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Erik was going through his sheet music looking for the right music to teach Christine. He was humming the melody as he looked at each piece. Ayesha walked into the room, hopping up on the organ, making it make noise. It caused Erik to look at her. He stroked her back a moment with a ghost of a smile on his face as she moved to the top of the organ. She sat on top and started to clean herself. He looked at her for a moment, wondering what Christine would think about her. He brought his hand to his mouth, deep in thought. He realized that he did not truly know her range. Yes, she was a high soprano, but how low could her voice go without harming it, and how high could it go? That was important. That would be the first thing they would do. Well, maybe second after warming up her voice. He went back to his sheet music. She was going to audition for the chorus she would need a piece for that. He had a few in mind. The training space was taken care of at least for now. He had Antonitte Giry book it for him, training room six. It had a piano in it. It would do for now. He would love to teach her down here with his organ. To play his music for her and hear and see her reaction. She was too young for that. She may have the body of a woman, but in her mind, she was still a child. He would only bring her to teach her once she was a woman in mind and body. He instantly dropped the sheet music as genius thought wormed its way into his mind.
Ayesha looked at him with a tilt of her head as he rushed out of his music room with lush carpet. He headed toward his workroom. He leafed through papers, hunting for the map of the caverns and the overlay of his design for his home down here. He found them. He picked up his pencils and started to figure out his plan. It would work perfectly. It would take years to make it perfect and for the work to be done. Christine should only be given perfection.
That was where Nadir found him. His back was hunched over the table, designing every detail of the bedroom for Christine. He had notes on color palettes that he found she liked from their conversations. From her love of red and blue, and other jewel tones to her preferring gold to silver, and cherry wood or dark woods to light ones. They had talked about what she would do to dormitory if was allowed to. Erik was to into his work that he did not notice his friend.
"Erik," Nadir said.
Erik's eyes instantly snapped to him. There was fire raging in his golden eyes. It caused Nadir to back up. Erik got up from his seat, rising to his full height. The imitation and temper that radiated from him would make anyone back up. This was the reason he was the favorite of the Shah of Persia. If Erik could throw him in one of the torture chambers, he would.
"You never told me," Erik yelled, his voice echoing off the chamber of his workroom. Nadir tried to figure out what he was talking about. Nadir kept backing up until he hit the rough rock surface. Erik's large, strong yet skeletal hand closed over Nadir's shoulders near his neck. The grip was tight, bruising so. Nadir's jade eyes locked with Erik's golden eyes. "You never told me she could sing. You knew she could. I know you do," Erik growled, his hands inching closer to his friend's neck.
Nadir's eyes went wide. He knew Christine could sing.
"I thought you knew," Nadir coughed.
Erik let go when he realized where his hands were and how close he was to killing one of his only friends back way. He clenched his hands and nearly folded himself. When Nadir's word entered Erik's mind. He turned to look at his friend over his shoulder.
"Why would I know that?" Erik growled.
"I told you, the Daae family had music in their veins. You never researched that fact. Christine's mother was a Swedish Prima Donna, where she met Christine's father at that opera house. She was only a prima Donna for a season before she fell pregnant with Christine. It seemed that Christine got her mother's voice and her looks," Nadir explained.
Erik's eyes closed at that knowledge. It explained why Christine longed to be a Prima Donna. She wanted to be like her mother. Maybe in a way, be closer to her. Nadir rubbed his shoulders. Erik looked over to him.
"Are you alright, my friend?" Erik asked
"I am fine. How did you learn she could sing?" Nadir asked.
"Tonight, she sang when little Giry asked her to," Erik said.
"Antonitte daughter," Nadir asked.
"Yes," Erik said.
"What song did she sing?" Nadir asked, trying to figure out how deep in this Erik was.
"The Jewel Song from Faust," Erik answered. Erik looked at him for a time. Nadir shook his head. In his mind, he thought Erik and Christine were perfect for each other. They did nothing in half measures. "How did you know she could sing?" Erik asked, wondering how Nadir knew about Christine.
"Gustave Daae had a concert outside Paris. He was a dying man even then. At his knees was his little daughter, Christine, maybe six at the time. She sang when he played. I knew her voice was something special with the right teacher, there would not be a height she could not reach," Nadir confessed, coughing everyone in while. Erik rubbed his chin with that knowledge. There was a calculating look in his golden eyes. That still did not explain why Nadir had not told him when he first spoke about Christine. Nadir caught the look in Erik's eyes. " She was a grieving girl, Erik. She already had the weight of the world on her small shoulders. Her plea was enough to turn your head. Can you honestly tell me you would not put more pressure on her to make her voice into a perfect instrument?" Nadir asked.
Erik sighed, walking back to his worktable. He sank into the stool. The mask on his face was knocked off. The clank of it hitting the worktable echoed through the room. He ran his hands up his face. Nadir was right, he would have pushed her possibly too far, too soon. Erik's mind quickly left that thought. He looked back at the table where the list of things he needed for Christine's room in his home was.
"I am going to place the world at her feet. She wants to be a Prima Donna. I will make her the greatest the world has ever seen," Erik stated.
"Erik," Nadir tried.
"I need somethings," Erik told him.
"What are you up to?" Nadir asked.
"Nothing you need worry about," Erik growled as he looked over his shoulder. The handsome, unmarred side of his face was on display. The disfigured side of his face was toward the wall.
Christine was so excited to have her first music lesson with her Angel of Music. She rushed back to her dormitory/dressing room. She changed out of her leotard and pointe shoes from ballet. She changed into peach colored Victorian day dress and boots. She was almost shaking with excitement. She walked over to her vanity. She started to untie the ribbon that held her hair back for the ballet, along with the pins. She brushed her hair and allowed her waves to hang freely around her body. She set her silver brush down. That was when she noticed a note resting against the vanity mirror. She picked it up. It looked eerily like the notes that Opera Ghost gave to the manager, Madame Giry, and Monsieur Reyner. She looked at the fancy, elegant yet deliberate movement of the script that bore her name. She turned the note over and noticed a red wax seal with what looked like an image of a red rose on the back. She let out a sigh of relief; the letters she saw from the Opera Ghost bore a red skull, not a red rose. For a moment, the thought that her Angel of Music was the Phantom of the Opera. She broke the seal, opening the note.
"Meet me in training room six at nine, Mon Petit, Your Angel of Music," Christine read aloud.
Nine came quickly, Christine with only a single candle lit, made her way out of the dormitories to where the training rooms were located. She heard the sounds of passion as she passed through the dormitories where some of the older dancers and chorus members were parting with the stage crew and orchestra members. She kept to the shadows as she moved closer to her destination.
When she finally found the training room, six. She opened the door. The room was dark. She could see the outline of a piano in the corner. She walked farther into the room, trembling as she did so. She placed the candle on the top of the piano. Her eyes searched the room for any sign of her angel. The door suddenly shut with a loud click. She turned, looking over her shoulder toward the door. She felt another presence in the room. It sent a shiver down her spine. She moved towards the center of the room.
"Angel, are you here?" Christine asked softly.
"Yes, child, shall we begin?" Erik said as he threw his voice so she could not pinpoint where it came from.
A single note on the piano echoed through the room. He could see her trembling with both fear and excitement. Christine shallowed nervously. She suddenly felt a presence behind her.
"Maestro," Christine answered in a shy, trembling voice.
She felt a brush of air by her ear and a strong hand on the small of her back. Erik relished the feeling of her body close to his own. She hunched into herself, but was quickly corrected by Erik's hands on her shoulder, straightening her back.
"Sing," Erik told her.
Christine took a deep breath and then sang back the note that was just played. She matched the note perfectly. Erik moved from her side and went to the piano. He started to play the scales. She followed his lead. It started in the middle range. Then it went higher and higher and higher still. She hit a note very few Prima Donnas could hit with ease and not years of training. Then he played down from the note, and she followed his lead back down. This worked as a warm-up and he learn her vocal range. Once he felt she was warmed up enough. He moved from the piano. He moved back to behind. She breathes shallowly, awaiting his next instruction.
"Sing what you sang last night," Erik instructed.
"Maestro," Christine said.
She still did not think was good enough to sing that song. Her eyes were trying to find him. Erik allowed her to take a moment before.
"You agreed to follow my every instruction, child. If you will not, I will find a more dutiful pupil," Erik growled, throwing his voice so she could not pinpoint where he was.
"Forgive, Maestro. Don't leave me… Please don't leave me," Christine fell to her knees pleading to him.
"Then sing, child," Erik answered.
Christine looked down. She pictured herself looking at jewels. She looked up, she took a trembling breath before allowing the song to take her. She slowly rose to her feet as she started to sing.
"Ah! je ris de me voir
si belle en ce miroir,
Ah! je ris de me voir
si belle en ce miroir,
Est-ce toi, Marguerite, est-ce toi?
Réponds-moi, réponds-moi,
Réponds, réponds, réponds vite!
Non! Non! ce nest plus toi!
Non...non, ce nest plus ton visage;
C'est la fille d'un roi;
Ce n'est plus toi,
C'est la fille d'un roi
Qu'on salut au passage!
Ah, s'il était ici!
S'il me voyait ainsi!
Comme une demoiselle
Il me trouverait belle, Ah!
Achevons la métamorphose,
Il me tarde encor d'essayer
Le bracelet it le collier!
Dieu! cest comme une main,
Qui sur mon bras se pose! ah! ah!
Ah! je ris
de me voir si belle dans ce miroir" Christine sang.
Christine felt strong hands correcting her posture as she sang. Her eyes were closed, and she felt a strong hand pushing on her abdomen, making her voice stronger. When she finished the song, her hand went to her throat. She could not believe the music she just heard echo back in her ears.
"Brava, Brava," Erik called out, throwing his voice around the room. She nearly sank to her knees in reverence to his praises. Believe he was truly an angel. For the voice that just came from her could not possibly be her own, but one from heaven. " Now, let's work on your audition piece for the chorus. Do you know the opera Hamlet, Pale et Blonde that Ophélie sings in act four," Erik asked.
"Yes, Maestro," Christine answered.
Erik moved back to the piano to play the opening of the song. He smiled when, right on cue, she began to sing. It was good, but with months of training before the next audition. When he was done with her voice, it would be perfection. They ran through the song multiple times. Until he started to see her eyes droop with sleep and her shoulders sag when she was not singing. She looked like she could fall asleep standing up.
"You have done well, mon petit, we will continue tomorrow, same time, same place," Erik told her as he moved into a hidden passageway.
"Thank you, Maestro, for believing in me," Christine muttered as she picked up the candle.
The candle was nearly burnt down. She headed back to her room. She could never guess how that day would change her life forever. In that room, she began to fall for the man behind the mask. She revealed her darkest secrets to him. It was not something many would understand. How could you start to love someone without ever seeing a person? He was strict and yet full of praise.
Months turned quickly. Erik spent a good portion of his day working on her room in his home. In his evening training her until normally eleven. Then he followed her back to her room, making sure she got there safely. He would sing her to sleep. She normally muttered thank you to him in her sleep. He was transfixed by a peaceful, angelic look on her face. Then he would return to his home to work some more on his opera or on her room. Her days were normally spent in dance classes or rehearsals. Then she went back to her room and changed into a day dress. And prepare for her lessons. So, to her a lesson with her Maestro. Sing for hours and go back to her room. Falling asleep quickly and normally dreaming of the man, she envisioned her Maestro, Angel of Music, to be.
Until the day of the audition came. Madame Giry gave her the day off from ballet. Christine stood outside the audition room. She was dressed in an emerald Victorian day dress. Her hair was perfectly styled with matching green hair ribbon and hair pins. She had her sheet music in her hands. The other auditioners looked at her oddly. They had not seen her before. They looked at her like she was insane. No one made it into the chorus on their first time.
"Christine Daae," Monsieur Reyer called.
Christine made her way over to the pianist and handed him her sheet music. The chorus director and Monsieur looked at her oddly. Normally, they all audition with full orchestration.
"My name is Christine Daae. I have prepared a piece from the opera Helmet. Sang in Act four by Ophélie, Pele et Blonde," Christine stated as she took center stage.
An aria, the chorus director, and Monsieur exchanged a look. No one could sing an aria like a diva this young. They were ready for what they believed to be a disaster. They nodded for the pianist to start to play. They looked down, going over their choices, ignoring Christine. Christine took a deep breath and began to sing just like she had rehearsed with her angel. As she started to sing, they both looked up in shock. They had their mouths open as she finished. They were on their feet, clapping.
"Mademoiselle Daae, you are now part of the chorus," the chorus director announced.
Christine nodded and went wide-eyed. She bowed again before leaving the room in a state of shock.
Christine made her way back to her room. She had a huge smile on her face. It lit up her face. She was so happy she nearly had tears in her eyes. She looked at the window. She spied a nightingale sitting on the branch of a red rose bush. Her smile grew even wider at the sight of him. She opened the window. The nightingale started to sing. She opened her mouth, matching each note he sang. They were both so happy, filled with joy, and free. She shut the window. She dropped to her knees by the large mirror in her room like she was praying.
"Angel," Christine called.
Erik was working on carving a swan head, which would be the footboard of her bed. He dropped the piece on his worktable when he heard her calling to him. He was dressed only in trousers and a white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His arms were lean but still so strong. Some scars littered their surface. Ayesha looked up from her spot near his worktable. She watched as her master quickly left his home, coming to this female voice.
Erik found her praying by her mirror. Her face was not visible, for her head was bowed. It was the middle of the day. He was trying to figure out why she called for him.
"What is it, mon petit?" Erik answered, slipping into his angel of music voice.
"I try out for the chorus today, Maestro. Guess what?" Christine told him as she got up from the ground.
Christine spun around allowing her dark green skirt to flow out around her. She was so happy and excited. She was acting like a young child again. Erik could not help but smile at the sight. Oh, yes, that was today. He meant to watch her audition, but got drawn into his work. Her melodic laughter filled his ears.
"What, my dear?" Erik asked finally.
Christine came to a stop, sinking into her chair by her vanity. The smile still had not left her face.
"Maestro, they say no one makes it on their first time," Christine said.
"What some little tart of a girl made it in the chorus over you," Erik growled, not pleased.
"I am no tart," Christine yelled back, anger taking the place of happiness.
"Of course you're not. You are pure and true, but what does that have to do with anything?" Erik placated her. Erik finally allowed the pieces to fall into place in his mind. Her smile had returned to her face. The excitement that filled her was contagious. Her words alone mean nothing, but the way her happiness seemed to radiate from inside her. A huge grin spread across his face. When he caught her meaning. "You, my child, you are amazing, my dear. Your papa would be so proud of you, my dear," Erik told her.
"I hope you are proud of me, Maestro. I sing only for you," Christine whispered meekly.
"I could not be prouder, Mon Petit," Erik told her.
They both had smiles that would not leave their faces. Erik could stay there forever just watching the happiness of his angel. Funny is it not, how they both found themselves angels in each other.
AN: I hope you like it. Let me know what you think