A/N: Hi y'all! I'm still having some clogged idea tubes, so if y'all have any suggestions, I'll gladly consider. Thank you for all of your lovely reviews!
What happened next can only be described as a moment of complete and utter panic. Madame Valerius looked on in concern as Raoul lay Christine down on the divan and went to fetch the maid. Erik fussed over the poor girl, wringing his hands and beseeching her to awaken.
"Please, Christine!" he begged, "Oh, Erik is terribly sorry! Please wake up!"
"Stand aside, you fool!" Raoul said, running back into the room and carrying a bottle of smelling salts. He was closely followed by the maid, who stood nervously off to the side. Raoul held the bottle under Christine's nose. She scrunched her face, making a little noise of protest before her eyes fluttered open.
"Are you alright, Christine?" the Vicomte asked, a look of concern upon his boyish face. She blinked once or twice before answering.
"Yes... fine, thank you," she replied, " But where is Erik?" At this Raoul frowned, and Erik hurriedly knelt down at her side once more.
"I am here, my Christine," he said reverently, "I am glad you are awake." She smiled and took his gloved hand in hers, before sitting up and adjusting her hair.
"I'm terribly sorry," she apologized, "Perhaps a cup of tea..." Erik was already on his feet and pouring her a cup, preparing it just the way she liked with cream and two lumps of sugar. He placed it on a saucer before handing it to Christine and taking a seat beside her on the divan. She smiled gratefully, and as she drank the hot beverage the color slowly began to return to her cheeks.
"Now tell me Christine," Raoul said gently, "What is it you were saying?" She sighed, looking down at her teacup.
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she murmured, "I just wanted to take Erik out on a quiet visit to meet Mama Valerius. What I was going to say was not that I fear losing the Angel of Music, for there is no real angel, as you already said. What I fear is losing one of two very good friends whom I love dearly, simply because I cannot love both of them in the same way that they love me."
"So what you are saying," Raoul said, very slowly, as if the words were hurting him, "Is that you do not love me anymore."
"Oh Raoul!" she sighed, "It's not like that at all! I love you dearly, I always have and always will, but I cannot love you as more than a friend. Society forbids it! What would your family think of you marrying a chorus girl?"
"They'd be fine with it!" the young man said firmly, "They don't object to Philippe and Sorelli being together, do they?"
"No," said Christine, "But Sorelli is only Philippe's mistress, Raoul! He's never going to actually marry her! That's why they don't object. But I am an honest woman, Raoul. I reserve myself for my husband and no other man." Raoul hung his head, a few tears slipping down his cheeks.
"I see," he said softly, before wiping his face and looking back at Christine with a small smile.
"Well if all I can be for you is a friend, miss Daae, then I am determined to do so," he said. Christine smiled and took his hand.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"My God!" Erik thought, his mouth slightly agape, "My God, she chose me! Christine has chosen Erik, a feeble old monster, over the handsome boy! Perhaps she finally sees how deeply Erik loves her, and has decided to reward him for his devotion! Heaven! Erik is in Heaven! She has chosen me! Oh, but Erik must not get ahead of himself. She has only refused the Vicomte's proposal, it does not mean she would be willing to accept one of mine."
"So how have you been, dear child?" asked Madame Valerius, trying to change the subject.
"Quite well, thank you," Christine replied promptly, "Erik has been taking very good care of me."
"I'm glad," the old woman said, "I missed you, Christine. But I knew that if you had gone anywhere, you would be with your good genius." With this she smiled at Erik, who returned the gesture shyly. He was self conscious about having his mouth and chin exposed. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten Christine's guardian with his thin, cracked lips and papery, yellowish-grey skin. Fortunately, these things did not seem to bother the elderly woman in the slightest.
"Christine was right!" Erik thought, "Madame Valerius isn't frightened of me at all! This is splendid! Perhaps, with Christine's help, I could even make a few friends! Of course, I don't particularly need friends, but it might be rather nice."
Erik continued to daydream for the rest of the visit. He did not have much to add to the conversation, for Raoul, Christine, and Madame Valerius began to reminisce about old times, talking and laughing for hours. Eventually, however, he was dragged out of his blissful reverie by the voice of the young Vicomte.
"Well Monsieur," Raoul said, holding out his hand, "It was a pleasure to meet you. I trust you will take good care of Christine. I love her, and I can tell by the way you look at her that you feel the same. Take care." Hesitantly, Erik shook the young man's hand. He was still wary of the Raoul, but decided that acting openly hostile towards him would unnecessarily upset Christine, so courtesy was the obvious course of action.
Christine smiled, relieved, as the two men shook hands. "Thank goodness," she thought, "I hadn't expected Raoul to be here, and I'm glad it went so well. I was honestly expecting Erik's jealous temper to get in the way of things, I'm glad he behaved like such a gentleman. And Raoul... Oh, poor Raoul... I care for him, I really do. Perhaps if things had been different, if we had been of the same class... but where would that have left Erik?"
They all said their goodbyes to Raoul and he departed, leaving Erik, Christine, and Madame Valerius alone. It seemed the moment of truth had arrived.
"Mama Valerius," Christine began, "Do you still have friends in the publishing business?"
"Why, of course, child!" the old woman said with a smile, "What brings this on?"
"Well Erik, my maestro, is a great musician. He wishes to share his music with the world, but he has no one to be his advocate. I was wondering if you might be able to help him get started."
"Why of course, dear!" Madame Valerius said, her face lighting up, "I'll help Monsieur Erik find his feet. I shall write at once to my good friend, Monsieur Meursault, and see what he charges for printing these days."
"Oh, thank you, Madame!" Erik exclaimed, "I don't think it is possible for you to imagine what this means to me." Taking her hand, he kissed it, tears welling up in his eyes.
"This woman neither hates nor fears me," Erik thought, "She is willing to help me publish my music and make my way at last into this cruel sunlit world. And Christine... To have her at my side, to have her sing my music for all of Paris... that would be the greatest thing of all..."
"Please, Monsieur," said Madame Valerius, "It is the least I can do for a man who has done so very much for my dear Christine." She turned to the young girl, beckoning her closer. Christine obliged.
"Tell me a story, my child, as I did for you when you were young," the old woman said, "Tell me the story of you and your good genius. Monsieur Erik, won't you tell also?" Christine smiled.
"I think Erik should begin," she said, "He tells wonderful stories, Mama." Erik gave a small sigh, remembering the happy times when he had told Christine stories. Seeing that the two women were looking at him expectantly, he began to speak.
"Well, once upon a time," he said with a small smile, "There was a beautiful girl named Christine. She spent her days in the Palais Garnier, the royal palace in the Kingdom of Music and Song.
In the dungeon of this palace, there dwelt a man named Erik, who, about four months ago, heard Christine singing after hours. He came up out of the depths to see who that beautiful voice belonged to. It... it was not love at first sight, but rather love at first hearing. And then, when I... when he saw how kind she was... I... he... Oh, what's the difference? Erik thought that she might be willing to grant him some of that lovely kindness. Then one night, Erik heard Christine wish for an Angel of Music to come and teach her to sing. Foolish creature that Erik was, he thought he would be content to be a teacher and love her from afar. It took that young Vicomte to make him realize how much he truly cared about the beautiful Christine." He was beet red under the mask, and couldn't look directly at either of the two women. Instead, he looked down at his gloved hands, which were twisting nervously in his lap.
"Well, I suppose it is my turn," Christine said after a moment's pause, "When my prayers for an angel were answered, I was so very happy. I worked very hard to please my Maestro, and when he told me that I was to sing Marguerite, I couldn't contain my joy. No one had tried to help me advance my voice in so many years, and to have the Angel of Music himself tell me I was ready for such a role..." She trailed off, looking over at Erik. His hands were still twisting in his lap, and she reached over and gently placed her own hand atop them.
"I was honored," she said softly, causing him to look up at her at last. She smiled sweetly at Erik, and his ears went red.
"Does she not know what that smile does to me?" he thought, "Oh, she must know! How can Erik help but wear his heart on his sleeve when she draws the fool thing out with such kindnesses? I would that she take my heart and keep it safe for me, let the old weary thing beat beside hers. It would fear no rejection there, nestled safely within her bosom." Christine turned back towards Madame Valerius, but left her hand on top of Erik's.
"The rest I believe you know," she said, concluding the story. The old woman sighed.
"It really is like a fairy tale, isn't it?" Madame Valerius said, "But it isn't over yet, my child. There's a bit to go before you live happily ever after." Christine nodded. When it came to stories, Mama Valerius knew what she was talking about.
At last it came time for them to leave. Christine hugged Mama Valerius close, promising she and Erik would return soon. Erik kissed the old woman's hand once more with the reverence of a child for a favorite aunt before bidding her adieu and offering his arm to Christine. She took it gladly, and the maid showed them out.
Back on the street, the two of them walked side by side. Erik felt perspiration forming on his forehead under the mask as people stopped and stared. He was filled with fear, terrified that at any moment someone would rip the bit of leather protection from his face. He began to tremble.
Christine felt him shaking and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He looked at her, saw the reassuring smile on her face, and immediately felt better. "Christine does not mind," he thought, "That is all that matters." He smiled back at her, and they continued walking down the busy Paris street.
"I've missed the sunlight," Christine thought, "And it's so nice to feel the open air again, even if it is freezing cold. Erik was so kind to take me out today. I'm glad he came along, he needs the sunlight and the air as much as I do, doesn't he? Perhaps he simply doesn't know it."
"Christine," Erik asked at length, "Is there any particular cafe you enjoy? I should be honored to treat you to lunch."
"Oh Erik, that would be wonderful!" Christine cried, "There's a little place just around this corner." His thin lips twitched into a smile, and as Christine led him towards the cafe, he slipped into thought once more.
"This feeling, this happiness, is this what normal men feel all the time?" he wondered, "Could I, being what I am, ever get used to this? Christine's arm is entwined in mine, her hand resting upon my own. These sweet moments of physical contact, that kiss to my forehead... How could a wretch like me ever ask for more? I am content with this. This is what Erik has dreamed of all his life."
At last they reached the cafe. Christine led Erik inside and they were seated at a quiet little table by the window. Christine ordered quiche florentine and Erik had quiche lorraine. While they were waiting for their food to arrive, they talked.
"Erik, do you like it up here?" Christine asked. He nodded.
"Yes Christine, but only if Erik can be with you. He would never come up on his own unless it was absolutely necessary."
"Do you think we might go away this summer? Perhaps to the sea? I think the salt air would do you good, Erik."
"Go away... w-with you?" he asked, eyes wide with shock and hope, "You... you would take Erik with you? To the sea? For Erik's health? Oh Christine, no one has ever cared about Erik's health before!"
"Yes, dear Erik," she said with a small smile, "Come to the sea with me."
"I will!" he cried, "Oh Christine I will, I will, I will! Erik shall be so happy at the sea with sweet, good Christine to take care of his health. Erik shall be the healthiest man alive if it will please his merciful Christine. And then, perhaps..." He trailed off as the waiter arrived with their food.
"Perhaps...?" she prompted, once the waiter had gone. Erik's expression grew guarded.
"It is nothing, Christine," he said sternly, "Erik has revealed enough."
They ate their lunch and Erik paid, and they left the cafe to continue on their walk. They walked along for a time before a certain window display caught Christine's eye. There was a mannequin clothed in a fine emerald green gown, her hair done up in the latest fashion. In her hand, she clutched a cream colored silk purse that had been covered over in green lace to match the dress. Christine let out a barely audible sigh.
"What is it, my dear?" Erik asked, having heard the tiny puff of air. She blushed, quickly pulling her eyes from the window display and looking back to him.
"Nothing," she replied, "Nothing at all." She tried to keep walking, but Erik had come to a dead halt.
"What is it?" he repeated, looking at her quizzically.
"Well if you must know, I was looking in the window display," she told him.
"Does Christine require a new dress?"
"Oh, no Erik. I'm alright."
"Well, does Christine want a new dress?" he asked.
"Erik, I couldn't-"
"But I can, Christine, and I will." And without further ado, he led Christine into the dressmaker's shop.