They arrived at his home. Raoul gallantly stepped out of the carriage and helped Christine down. The wedding dress she wore was still heavy with the weight of the water from the lair. "You'll stay here," he said. Christine weakly nodded. She had no other place to go. "I'll have one of the guest suites readied for you. You''ll stay with my family until we're married." The soprano nodded. "Until we're married..." she echoed. They stopped in front of the huge door. Raoul gallantly moved to open it for her. "Wait!" Christine cried. Raoul paused and turned back to her. Her tired eyes looked earnestly into his. "I know it must be hard...loving me." The Vicomte raised his hands as if to stop her.
"No, let me finish. I just wanted to say that...I love you, too. Even when it doesn't always seem like it. It's so easy to love you, I forget myself every now and then. And...it's just...It's sometimes...Oh. I think I love Erik too." Christine tore her eyes from Raoul's and looked into the night around them. Raoul bit his fine lower lip and waited for her to finish.
"But if there's anything I've learned from all of this – it's that there's different sorts of love. Erik...well, the Phantom to you...I couldn't be with him for the rest of my life. It would destroy us. But you, Raoul, I want to be with you. I love you, and it's a healthy, good love." She reached out to grasp his hands. "I want to marry you, and soon. We can be happy together, even if we're tainted with sorrow. So...thank you. Thank you for giving me shreds of happiness when everyone else only offered confusion and disdain. I want to spend the rest of my life making you a happy man, Raoul." She turned back to him. Her features mirrored the firm resolution in her mind. "Oh, Christine..." he murmured, and crushed her against his chest. She let him. A few moments later, he led her inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Three Weeks Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Don't you think that dress is a bit immodest?" A high voice cooed. Adelynn, Raoul's beautiful but judgmental mother, had unaccompanied Christine to the dress maker's. Christine had regretfully agreed to a new gown for a ball that would hold announce her engagement to the public. The employees of the opera house had already known such, but they had since scattered. The fire had devastated the theater, and the slow plans of reconstruction were already being built. An older and nearly deserted theater, simply called the Opera de Paris, was now the current opera house for Parisians to attend. Many of the workers and performers were transferred there, and the rest simply vanished.
"I think not," Christine sweetly answered. The gown was a light peridot colored silk, with loose sleeves that fell of her shoulders and a bodice lined with garnets at the seams. While Adelynn loathed her son's fiancee, she kept to a kind and polite nature in public, and Christine did the same. "The color is most demure," Christine continued. She smoothed her hands over the ruffled skirt. It was covered in silky waves linked by more garnets. The soprano would wear a gold mesh net over up swept curls, and dainty little golden slippers. "I am quite fond of the sweetheart neckline dear, but I would advise it to be raised." Adelynn sniffed. The dress was acceptable for a young woman, but the Comtess wanted a reason to harass Christine and it proved to be the only option. "The final alternations for your gown have been made, Madame De Chagny." the humble maid said, entering the dressing room. "Madame Layette herself has decreed it so." Adelynn immediately ignored Christine, and hurried out of the dressing room to coo over her new plum colored gown. Two tediously spent hours later, Christine was finally permitted to leave. She immediately ran into her room at the De Changy mansion. It was very feminine; filled with pastel colors, soft pillows and rugs, sweet smelling candles and roses of all colors, excluding red. She quickly walked through the room, and swept out into the balcony. The lovely room overlooked one of the gardens, and felt very private to her. She loved it.
"Knock knock," a sweet voice called. "Raoul!" Christine squealed, and turned to see her fiancee stride in. He had recently gotten his hair cut, and now the golden waves fell to layers around his ears. She thought it made him look even more dashing. The boyish features of his face seemed to have faded since the night of Don Juan's opening, and his new haircut made him appear to be a handsome and at last, completely grown man. The new clarity of his striking face and hardened features inspired thoughts of both happiness and heartache, and Christine experienced a new degree of physical attraction she hadn't ever felt. Raoul reached her and Christine eagerly kissed him. "I adore this," he murmured. Christine kissed him again, then demurely asked, "What?" Raoul wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and ran his lips along her neck. "The way you touch me. You're open now, Christine. You never let me touch you before, my love. And I'm not just talking about physically, dear. You used to close your...your very being, your soul to me. Now I feel so close, so connected with you - spiritually and physically. Indeed, access to your sweet caresses is a delight I shan't ever tire from." He quickly licked the soft skin beneath her ear, and Christine giggled nervously. She strove to be pure and open with Raoul, to keep true to her promise made after leaving Erik. It wasn't very hard, she loved Raoul and he was terribly handsome. Thoughts of Erik sometimes came to her unexpectedly and staggered her, and those were what made it difficult to be completely open with her husband to be. Her new physical relations with Raoul scared her and thrilled her in equal parts. They had both agreed to save the holy act of making love for their wedding night, for which Christine was relieved, but his kisses and wandering hands had become frequent occurrences. And Christine wantonly encouraged them!
The soprano found her new boldness to be embarrassing, though Raoul clearly loved it. It was her first time with such things, excluding all of the burning touches the Phantom had laid over her skin. She would awaken at night from passionate dreams every so often. Sometimes it was Raoul who touched her, sometimes it was Erik. The nature of the dreams horrified her, to be thinking of such naughty things before she was wed, and sometimes with a man who wasn't her fiancee! Though for a short time she had been forced to be... Overall, Christine decided to be very honest with her husband. When he asked her what plagued her mind, she told him, even if it was Erik. Such revelations hurt him, but he readily admitted that he would rather know then always wonder if her thoughts pined after that other man. They both stated that honesty would help them keep a pure relationship, and so they were happy.
"Oh Raoul!" Christine moaned as the pressure of his kisses increased. Raoul grudgingly backed away and offered his arm. "I was actually sent up here to escort you to dinner, love. I fear that I we were distracted. Forgive me?" She playfully batted at his arm and said, "Always. I just don't know if your mother will." Christine had informed him of his mother's awful behavior. Raoul had simply chuckled and said, "I knew it! Mother really isn't a bear. She just always entertained hopes of me wedding some royal heiress. She'll leave you alone once we're safely married. Really, dear, she won't be too atrocious." Christine had laughed with him, and they had let the subject die. Raoul's family, excluding Adelynn, seemed to love Christine. Philippe, the youngest, even seemed overly fond of the young singer. His attentions sometimes embarrassed her, and Raoul would in turn be overtly protective. But in Philippe she had found a true friend; he made her laugh and never asked to learn about the scandal from Don Juan's premiere. "Just think, tomorrow night the world will know of our engagement!"
Christine laughed, then replied, "Dear, I imagine everyone already knows. I'm living at your home!" He led her into the wide hallway and murmured, "However true that may be, you should know how I've looked forward to that night. Ever since that gala night so many months ago, I've wanted this!" He gestured to their linked hands. "I've always known I'd wed you. Always, even when I was a young boy who had hurried into the sea to rescue your scarf." Christine smiled at his tender words of adoration, and replied, "I only wish I had been so decisive. All of these problems my fickle heart led to...but it is alright now. We've been granted our happy ending."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~One Month Later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were to be married the very next day. It had been a scandalously short engagement, but Raoul had grown restless. "I've waited this long for her, and we've been secretly engaged for months!" the Vicomte often said as an explanation to his confused friends and despairing mother. Christine's gown had been rushed into preparation by the most coveted dressmaker in France, and the wedding invitations and finery had been created in the short days after the engagement ball. Christine had learned a basic understanding of Raoul's society rules in the month after the ball. His "closest" friends, which included the richest and noblest of the French had opted to accept Christine. She noticed how some of the women disdainfully smirked at her behind their fans, but most offered tight smiles and she was grateful. There were a few who weren't included in Raoul's large circle, and they were the ones who clambered for her attention. They smiled too often, wore immodest gowns and to be put simply– garish. Those women and men annoyed and warmed Christine in equal parts. They reminded her of the employees of the Opera Populaire, whom she greatly missed. If she was truthful, there was much she missed about the opera. She had barely attained her "Prima Donna" title before it was stolen away. The soprano wanted to sing on the stage until she peacefully died with gray curls. Such a life was impossible with Raoul as a spouse, so she hadn't applied for a job at the Opera de Paris. Trying to remain inconspicuous, she weekly sought out information about the current theater. The Opera Populaire had recently begun it's lengthy construction. It was rumored that it would take a bit less then a decade to restore.
The news left Christine heartbroken. An innocent desire to once again reign over the Populaire had bloomed in her heart, and she had childishly wanted to sing there once it reopened. The reality of it all crashed over her a week ago, and she had run, weeping, into Raoul's arms. He hadn't understood her tears, but had comforted her. Then Christine had seen the new soprano at the de Paris. She was beautiful, with long golden curls and vivid brown eyes. Her name was Alais, and she would sing at Christine's wedding, though both Raoul and the girl had never heard her. There were rumors about her astonishing voice. It made Christine's skin crawl. She had never felt such jealously over a girl she hadn't ever met. The soprano wasn't a jealous or suspicious creature by nature, but the days away from her music had made her harder, more aware of her situations. Just like Raoul had grown up after they left the opera, so had Christine. Neither of them were innocent like they had been, and their adult struggles seemed to draw them even closer together. Christine's new boldness and awareness over her control of Raoul spurred her into action.
She was supposed to be in bed. It was late, even the servants had retired to their rooms. Christine was dressed in an elaborate, worn dressing gown. It was sparkling white, sheer, lacy, womanly. To her, it held exquisite and sinful memories. She wore it the night before her wedding in an act of remembrance to the man who had pushed her passage into womanhood. She wore it to honor his sacrifice in releasing her, she wore it to honor him and the life he had granted her to live. On her slender finger was a ring shaped like a rose.
"Raoul?" Christine whispered. She had just entered his room, which was empty. "Raoul?" she repeated, then saw that his balcony door was open. "There you are," she murmured while walking into the dark, then wrapped her arms around his trim waist. He shuddered. "Hmm?" the soprano asked. Raoul shuddered again, then stiffened. "What's wrong, dear?" Christine asked with growing curiosity. Raoul felt different somehow – like he had been standing outside for a very long time, and had grown cold and somber. Then he turned.
~~~~Yeah, that was a cliffhanger if you didn't realize it. Guys, I really appreciate reviews...so...hint hint :) Thanks for reading.