A/N: I fear, kids, that this is the final chapter for these two. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it and watching your reactions all the way through. I always hate saying goodbye to characters like this, but you can't stay with them forever.
I want to put my goodbyes here because I want the last words to be the absolute last for this story. I am currently working on a new story titled Guardian Angel (no, I really never stop). It's something of a different take on Erik's title for his beloved muse. I hope to see you all there, so keep your eyes peeled. Thank you all who have followed, favorited, reviewed, and read this, and all who may do so long after it is now finished. Feel free to message me, or leave reviews, I always reply (though I cannot reply if you do not have an account, so thank you Guest who reviewed on the 2nd, I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner). Enjoy the last chapter of our darling Swan Song.
They remained engaged for a few weeks, sneaking kisses in the kitchen over meals, laughs in the sitting room, and snuggling embraces in the library. They both lived for each and every moment together. Both knew how short life could be, and though this did not stop the occasional stubborn argument, they made the most of their time by filling it with words of love and devotion.
Finally, when Nadir could stand it no longer, they married. It made the Daroga proud to be the witness to the affair as they came before a judge with nervousness and smiles. The Persian thought of how far these two had come, all of the rows they had thrown, all of the tears which had been shed, but mostly how much they truly loved one another. He thought of his wife and how much he still loved her. He knew that Erik would not last without Christine, but if he were to, they would be in the same boat; unable to love another. Christine would most assuredly be the same, but she hid it for Erik's sake. She let him believe she would move on if tragedy were to separate them. Nadir knew this would be for the best. It would only cause undue stress to them as Erik still had little faith in the tie he had around her heart.
The wedding went by quickly and flawlessly, which was good because Erik was too concerned to worry about anything else. Standing at the altar, he turned to Nadir with pure fear in his dark eyes.
'What if she doesn't come?' He asked, as they waited for the lovely angel. 'What if she realises what she is doing and leaves me? I cannot live without her, Nadir, but I wouldn't dare stop her. I just...I can't lose her.' He lamented, feeling his shoulders slumping in defeat while his mind pictured how incomparably beautiful she would be running away into the evening light. Her hair would dance in its unruly curls as she flew. She always walked like she was only just barely touching the ground.
'Calm yourself, Erik. She loves you, you know that. She would not have made it this far if she didn't know what she was doing. Besides, I think she may be more concerned you will leave her.' Nadir assured calmly, trying not to shake his head at this foolishness.
'Why would I ever leave her?' Erik looked puzzled by this. He watched Nadir sigh tiredly before suddenly straightening as something at the other end of the aisle. Erik turned to see what it was and found all breath leaving his body in one fell swoop.
Christine felt very alone as she walked down the aisle until Nadir hurried to her side, taking her arm and beaming at her as he escorted her to the love of her life. Her curls, only partially tamed, were done up at the back of her head and trailing over her shoulders lightly. Her white dress billowed gracefully down with minimal train, long sleeves that opened at the elbows, and modest bodice. It had white lace and was highlighted with soft green beading to bring out her subtle elegance as well as the irresistible green of her eyes. Her bouquet was what made it all fit wonderfully, however. Erik had delivered it to her that morning in secret, getting rid of her soft blue flowers that the shop she worked at had given her. In her delicate hands, shining with her ruby engagement ring, was a single red rose.
They made it through most of the ceremony swiftly until it came time for the vows. Christine had not even thought to come up with any until Erik turned to her, looking deeply into her eyes with all of his heart. She could see his love brimming right on the edge of his eyes and hanging on his trembling lips.
'I will protect you with everything I have, do anything for you, hold you forever, care for you no matter what, carry you even when I'm too weak to move, and never leave you. You makes me want things I never thought would matter. I want to make things perfect for you, to make you happy. I want to see you smile every day, to hear you laugh, to have you run to me and hold me. I want you to be happy me. I want you to-to…' He paused, feeling the tears choke him. She already had tracks in her porcelain skin from her own salty drops of emotion. 'Oh, Christine,' he sighed, thumbing away a few of her tears. 'I want you to keep loving me as you have been. I do not know how or why you do it, but I would die if you ever stopped.' He told her, promising her everything he had with his gaze alone.
'Let me share your life and give you my love, please just stay beside me and I am yours completely.' She told him, somehow regaining her voice through her unmatched happiness.
Erik barely heard the judge's permission to kiss the bride. She was his in heart and soul, which were the only ones that mattered. They had both lost track of anyone else in the room as they kissed, pouring all of their love into it.
Releasing her at last, Erik noticed she had never looked so unimaginably beautiful. 'My wife, my Christine.' He whispered as he looked into her sage eyes.
'My husband, my Erik.' She mimicked, smiling at him with a spark of unconstrained joy. He had never looked so wonderful to her as he did at that moment. He was hers, and she was his.
Years of complete and utter bliss passed for the two. The bliss was dotted with the occasion glare or unintentional word, but it was these moments that made it worthwhile. Erik continued with Christine's singing lessons, edging her voice back to something of what it once was. Both were amazed by how far it had come, but were too afraid of disappointing the other that they did not mention it. She would never hit the higher or lower notes as well as she had, but it was better than nothing. They were once again able to sing together, spending long hours at the organ, or him accompanying her on his violin.
The first time she had heard him play the instrument, she had burst into tears. This of course upset him greatly as he could not find a reason for why his wife was crying at his music.
'My love, please, please don't cry.' He begged, on his knees at the wingback she was curled up in. 'Please, just tell me what's wrong, my darling Christine.' He nearly wept with her. He caught her instantly as she flung her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder a thousand dampened apologies.
'I have never heard anyone play like him. I did not think it was possible.' She cried.
'Play like who, my sweetest?' He asked, trying to decipher her words through her tears.
'My father. You play just like him.' She explained with one long sob.
Erik was stunned. He knew what high regard she held for her father's music, so finding he played the same way was both a glorious compliment and a wonderful surprise.
'Well, there's an easy answer, isn't there.' He told her, growing a bit mischievous in his tone.
She looked at him confusedly.
'I, too, was visited by the Angel of Music which taught your father.' He told her with mock pride.
She laughed, her features softening. 'No, my love, you are the Angel of Music.' She smiled gently at him before kissing him. He laughed through her lips before simply holding her. He would never tire of this.
After a little while, he returned to his playing, hearing her angelic voice ring through his ears gracefully. She sounded so perfect when accompanied by his music. He had found himself on more than one occasion staying up late writing songs for her and of her. He would sit at his organ for hours on end, letting time slip past him until he turned round to find Christine asleep in one of the wingbacks or on the chaise lounge with a book in her hands or her cheek resting on her arm. He would of course feel guilty over keeping her there so late into the night as well as not showering her with attention. He would come over to her and if she did not wake up to his gentle caresses, he would carry her to their bed.
It had amazed him the night of their wedding that she had wanted him. She had slipped off his mask and kissed his horrible face, making him choke back the tears at her wonderful kindness. He knew she loved him, and he honestly would have lived with only that for the rest of his days, but to find she wanted him sent him over an edge he had not realised was there in his utter joy. He loved her and worshipped every inch of her that night as she did the same for him. She kissed nearly every scar his body held from his less than savoury past. She winced slightly at the sight of them, but quickly assured him that she did not love him any less. If he were being honest with himself, he would think she only loved him more for it. She had told him many times over then and since that it was who he was inside that she loved, though she would occasionally give a breath-taking compliment to his smile or eyes. He accepted her love and held onto it like the precious gift it most assuredly was.
He thought of all of the desolate years of his life, how he had never truly entertained the thought of someone loving him. He certainly had not thought he would find someone as perfectly lovely as his Christine. Even now, with her carefully cradled in his arms, he looked at her like a mystery. How could she love one such as himself so completely? He thought of the time he had asked what she saw in him and smiled inwardly. She had always seen the potential good in him. She had acknowledged his darker side, and instead brought the light out. She made him shine in his own shadow. He would always love and be indebted to her for this. She had once argued that it made them even, as he had saved her life in so many ways. He agreed simply to keep her from worrying. He did not believe they were really equal. Of course he saved her, he loved her more than life itself, and it was not even a question. If he had known then, he would have made the same vow the moment he first saw her. She had somehow known his thoughts and had come over to wrap her lovely arms around his neck.
'It's the same thing with me, Erik. I knew the second I met you that I would try to make your life better. I could see the inner torment you put yourself through even then. You were in Persia with me for God's sake, of course your life was Hell.' She had laughed. 'I will always love you, dearest, and I will always do my upmost to keep you from falling into your pit of despair.' She had told him, kissing him, but looking into his watery eyes as he pulled her into his embrace. She always had a way of holding him that made everything wicked in the world suddenly seem insignificant. Her light washed away all of the horrible pieces of his life and filled him with happiness and hope.
Christine opened her eyes to find herself in bed, Erik fussing about in the bathroom, whispering curses at anything that made what he thought to be too much noise. She grinned at his silliness. He was forever her protector and guardian. He took such good care of her that she sometimes worried he was getting nothing out of her. His sparkling smile always set her at ease, though. She made him the food he liked, though he still refused to eat often enough, she kissed him often and held him close when he seemed to be falling. He still had dark moods where he would find no joy even in his music. It was times like this that she put her strong side forward and shouldered through it with him. She would let him say his piece, letting out all of the frustration, and then she would reason with him. Some days it felt more like an argument than others, but she stayed calm and firm. She would then hold him as he caught his breath or collapsed from tearful apologies. He would weep that she deserved better and she would calmly remind him just how much she loved him.
She lived for the moments when she would return home from the flower shop, though. She would walk through the door and no matter where he was in the house, he would smile so wonderfully when she hunted him down. No matter how deep he may be in drawing or composing, he would scoop her into his arms like she had left for thirty years instead of half the day. She had worried at first that this would grow tedious, but a more selfish part of her revelled in how happy he was to have her return. She loved him all the more for it.
Christine smiled as Erik came into the bed and rolled over to hold onto him. He actually liked this. She had been somewhat concerned he would become tired of her constant clinging, but just like always, he would gasp in happy surprise and gently return it. He was always treating her like a delicate flower even though she had proven on more than one occasion that she was not as fragile as she seemed.
She giggled a bit as he tickled her ear with a whispered "I love you" before kissing her cheek. She happily snuggled into him, letting his embrace wrap around her and his glorious scent envelope her. She did not know what it was about him, but he just put her completely at ease with every ounce of his being.
'Goodnight, my sweet Erik.' She whispered, sitting up to place a kiss on his exposed cheek before peppering them down to his lips, savouring the taste of his smile.
'Goodnight, my angel.' He replied, giving her one last kiss before she nestled her head back onto his chest. Even then, he planted one in her hair, enjoying the silken curls as they tickled his lips. If he had a nose, he supposed it would have tickled that too. He smiled at the absolute happiness he felt when holding her, to drift off to sleep with her in his arms. His mind flashed images of the first time he had seen her, so pure and beautiful across the pond with the Persian sun shining off her milky skin while the white of her clothes made her look like a swan. Looking down at her sleeping form in his arms, he found she still looked more bird, more angel, than human. He nearly laughed when he remembered she had likened him to a cat. Funny how such opposites could find happiness together. And to think, it was all because she had not died. She had saved him from his darkness, and he had saved her from her swan song.