i do not own phantom of the opera or edelweiss

Ten years later…

Christine stepped off the carriage lightly, paying the man to have her luggage brought to her small apartment she was renting across the street. The wind whipped her clothing and hair about her wildly and she struggled to hold on to her hat. She looked up under the brim, ecstatic to be back. Her beloved Opera Populaire stood magnificently in front of her. She grinned excitedly.

Erik. The name whispered across her mind before she could stop it.

She was finally able to return. After her father's untimely death, she inherited the estate and money. Once the funeral and business matters were taken care of, she had left for Paris immediately.

All she wanted now was to see her Angel of Music once again. His promise ten years ago rang in her ears. I'll always be here. She hoped he still was. Excitement made her fingers tingle and she quickly mounted the stairs, holding her travel skirts out of the way.

Music poured from the concert room and she drew close, her memory of the opera house leading the way. She quickly found herself backstage at a rehearsal. A woman, their new primadona she supposed, sang in the center of the stage. Christine winced at the tone of her voice. It was awful. Almost too much to bear. She cringed and shuddered. She wondered what Erik thought of this creature before her. Biting back a chuckle, she left deciding to come back after rehearsal. Now, she had her angel to find.

Erik groaned and sat up, gripping his head from yet another painful migraine. His sleep lately had been restless and unsatisfactory. Perhaps it was from that dreadful Carlotta screeching at the top of her lungs.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He adjusted his mask and began preparing for the day. His internal clock told him it was around noon and he cursed himself for working late into the night. His unfinished opera sat messily on his organ, begging for his attention. The quill seemed to quiver in want of his fingers; the ink seemed to beckon him to the bottle. But he refrained. He had much to do before returning to work on his masterpiece.

The loneliness and bitterness once again welled up inside him. Ten years. It had been ten years that he had been alone and it was an all too familiar feeling. Instead of a hellhole at the circus, he was subject to his own torture as constant reminders of his angel stared him in the face daily.

Christine…

Oh how he missed her. But he had let go of hope years ago. She would never return. Who would, knowing a monster awaited them? In her absence, his soul had blackened and twisted much like his deformed face. He had killed, tormented, and haunted in this opera house for ten years. He would be satisfied continuing this regimen for the rest of his existence. Why wouldn't he? He shared his pain and misery with the rest of the world. They shouldn't be allowed to live happy lives while he couldn't.

He soon found himself in the rafters over the concert room. That beast Carlotta was singing. He shuddered involuntarily. God, she was awful. He would have to meet with the new managers and arrange for a new primadona as soon as possible.

He stiffened as he saw a familiar face waltz out onto the floor. The Vicompte de Chagny. Ballerinas quivered at the sight of him. His wavy brown hair was tied back in a ribbon and his attire screamed wealth and status. Raoul was their new patron. It sickened him to think this fool had anything to do with his opera house. He remembered all the torment he put Christine through in their childhood.

Flashback

Christine ducked behind a stage prop as a few stragglers left the concert room. Nervousness made her movements stiff and unsure. Tonight was a big night for her. She would sing for her Angel of Music for the first time.

She silently crept towards the center of the stage, just how Erik had told her to do. Suddenly, she sensed his presence. A shy smile crept on her face and she clasped her hands behind her back.

"Go on, Christine." His gentle voice whispered in her ear. She shivered. Erik was a magician who could make his voice go anywhere he wanted. It always delighted her.

Christine took a deep breath and opened her mouth.

"Edelweiss, edelweiss. Every morning you greet me," her soft voice filled the room with its angelic tone. Erik, who hid in the rafters above, felt pride and awe swell within him. Christine was magnificent. Her voice was purer and more talented than anything he had ever heard.

Christine gained confidence and her voice grew stronger. "Small and white, clean and bright, you look happy to meet me. Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever."

"Edel-" she was cut off by a cruel snort from behind her. She whirled to see a young Raoul stalking towards her. He held a lantern up to his face and she could see it was twisted into a look of mockery.

"What are you doing here, you foolish girl? Singing?" He sneered. Christine shrunk away, nodding.

"Y-yes, Raoul. Why can't I-" She stuttered.

"Why can't you sing? Simple! Because you can't sing." He got into her face and spit the last sentence out. Tears pricked her eyes.

"I can to sing. My angel-" he cut her off once again.

"You're angel of music? Grow up, Christine. Fairytales fed to you by your failure of a father." Raoul spat. Christine started to sob softly.

"Papa…" she whimpered. Raoul sat back, satisfied. He couldn't have his future wife chasing such silly dreams as a singer and believing in such nonsense.

Erik saw red. At first he felt only mild irritation at the intrusion of her betrothed, but after seeing him torment her to the point of tears, he could stand it no longer. His beautiful, innocent angel was hurting because of the cruel words fed to her by this bigot. His rage caused him to shake.

No one messed with what was his.

"Insolent fool! You slave of fashion, basking in your glory!" Erik made his voice reverberate in the concert room, shaking even the chandelier. He saw Raoul pale in the flickering lantern light.

"What trickery is this?" he whispered, fear rising. Christine stopped crying and gazed up into the ceiling, a small smile on her tearstained face.

"I am her Angel of Music," Erik sang. Raoul scoffed.

"Come out, whoever you are. Face me like a man!" He cried. Erik scoffed. As if that idiot was a man. Instead, he drew a knife from the folds of his shirt. With a flick of his wrist, he cut the ropes holding the curtains. They fell in whispering folds to land behind Raoul and Christine. They both jumped in surprise, and Raoul dropped the lantern. Uttering a curse, he fled.

"Thank you, Erik." Christine murmured. Erik calmed down at her soft voice and his expression became tender. No one messed with what was his.

End Flashback

With a swoosh of his cape, Erik vanished from the concert room. The memory angered him. It took him ages to convince Christine to sing again. Her confidence had been shattered by that ignorant fool. Ever since then, Raoul had been cruel but wary of the young girl. Erik had to keep a close watch on him to prevent him from tormenting her.

He sought out Madam Giry. He had a note to leave her.

Christine huffed, slumping down on a forgotten chair. It was impossible. Even as a child she only knew that one way to find Erik's home. But there was no way she would fit into that cramped space now. Her angel had always been so secretive of his passageways in the opera house. He always came to her and it was rarely the other way around.

"Christine!" cried a familiar voice. Turning, she smiled as she caught sight of her long lost friend.

"Meg!" The two embraced quickly. Christine pulled away. "How have you been?"

"I've been great! It's been so long, Christine. How have you been?"

"I've been better, but I'm great now that I'm back in Paris. How is everyone?" she questioned excitedly.

"Oh they're the same. Not much has changed since you left. We have a new star soprano, Carlotta." Meg said, with a disgusted look on her face.

"Was that Carlotta singing during the rehearsal?" Christine asked. Meg nodded. Christine shuddered. "How awful. Why won't the managers replace her?"

Meg shrugged. "I have no idea. I await the day when she will. Come, you must meet with Mother. She's been anxiously waiting for your arrival."

Christine nodded and let the blonde woman lead her away. A tinge a disappointment pulled Christine's mouth into a small frown. Maybe today wasn't the day when she would be reunited with her friend.

oooo when will they finally meet? if it isn't already obvious, i hate raoul ;)

R&R please!

LD