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Title: Beyond the Green Baize Door 40/44
Author: charleygirl
Word Count: 1455
Rating: G
Genre: General, Drama
Characters Involved: Raoul de Chagny, Christine Daae, Meg Giry
Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera is the creation of Gaston Leroux but probably these days copyright to Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Summary: Raoul recieves a bolt from the blue.
Author's Note: Chapter title taken from my other favourite musical, Evita
THE ACTRESS HASN’T LEARNED THE LINES YOU’D LIKE TO HEAR
“Christine, we can go home now. He’s in good hands.”
They stood in the hallway, Christine staring at the closed bedroom door. Madame Giry had remained within, and been joined by Doctor Lambert; this time Raoul did not offer his assistance, his concern solely for Christine. He hoped that the unhappy man behind that door would get the help he needed, but he was someone else’s burden now. They were finally free.
He took Christine’s hand, squeezing it. “You can forget all of this, everything that’s happened. We can start again, away from Paris, if that’s what you wish.”
She glanced up at him, gnawing on her bottom lip. “I... I don’t want to forget, Raoul.”
“You don’t..?” He frowned, confused. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying...” Christine took a deep breath and pulled away from him slightly. She looked down at her feet for a long time, and then at last raised her head to meet his eyes. “I’m saying that I’m staying here.”
Raoul stared at her in astonishment, almost thinking he had misheard her. “Christine – darling – there is no need for you to stay any longer. The Phantom... Erik... he has Meg and Madame Giry; he doesn’t need you as well. He doesn’t want you here, he made that perfectly plain. Please, come home with me.”
She shook her head, and he felt his horror mounting. She couldn’t be serious, surely? Who would want to remain, entombed in the ground like this, with a wounded, unstable man who could barely control his temper? “I’m sorry, Raoul, I can’t.” Holding out her hand to him, she unfurled her fingers: in her palm, sparkling in the lamplight, was a diamond ring. His heart sank at the sight of it. “Please, take it.”
“Christine, don’t do this,” he begged, unconsciously echoing her own words to the Phantom just a few moments before. She did not withdraw her hand. “I love you! And I thought you loved me too.”
“Oh, Raoul.” Her eyes were sad, but he did not miss the by now familiar determined set to her mouth. How could he have failed to see the confidence which had been growing within her over the past few weeks? “I do love you, but I realise now that I love you as a brother and a friend, as that brave, impulsive boy who ran into the sea to fetch my scarf.”
“Then why - ”
“That was so long ago! We are different people now – I’m not that little girl any longer, I’m not Little Lotte.” When he made no move to take the ring she reached for his hand, setting the diamonds there and curling his fingers around them. “I should never have agreed to marry you. It wasn’t fair of me, but I was alone and scared and I wanted to be safe. You deserve someone who can love you with all her heart, and I just can’t do that.”
Raoul’s stomach lurched. He swallowed slowly. “Is this because of him?” he asked, already sure of the answer.
“Perhaps.” Christine’s eyes dropped to the floor once more, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
“Christine, he abducted you - twice! He frightened you to death, made you scared of your own shadow! How can you keep defending him?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think I do.” His tone was sharper than he intended, and her head flew up, startled.
“I don’t want to lead you a dance, Raoul, pretending that I feel something I don’t. Please believe me, you are worth more than that.”
“It doesn’t matter! I’d endure anything just to be with you.” The ring felt cold and heavy in his grip; its delicate gold band might as well have been a lead weight. He held it out to her. “Please, please think again.”
“I can’t!” Her big brown eyes were full of tears. “I won’t make you miserable, and that is what would happen eventually. Sooner or later, you would want more than I could give, and you would hate me for it. I can’t suffer that, and neither should you. We have to make this break now, before it’s too late.”
“Christine... Christine... you are the only woman I have ever wanted to marry. I need you, I love you more than anything in the world,” Raoul said desperately. “Please say that you won’t forsake me.”
“I can’t... I can’t say what you want to hear.” Wringing her hands, she moved down the hall. She leant against an intricate table, and stroked the red velvet curtain which hung across one of the doorways, a sad smile touching her drawn face. With a jolt, Raoul realised that she looked quite at home in this extraordinary setting, more than she had ever done in his brother’s grand chateau or the Hôtel de Chagny. In those lavish rooms she appeared as lost and fragile as a single rose, plucked and left to wilt in a crystal vase; he saw now that she had never been content, not really. There had always been something missing, something she somehow found in an impossible house deep underground.
“Can you truly be happy here, with him?” he asked. “I remember when the darkness terrified you.”
Christine turned, the curtain falling from her grasp. “It did, until I realised there was darkness within me, too. The first time, after the gala, I admit he took me by surprise and I was scared, but tonight... tonight I went with him of my own free will. I don’t expect you to understand, Raoul,” she added, before he could speak, “I don’t even understand it myself, not entirely. I just know that your world of wealth and privilege felt more of a prison to me than this place could ever be.”
Clutching at straws, Raoul said quickly, “We could leave all that, go somewhere far away, just the two of us! Christine - ”
“You would hate it.” She stepped up to him, straightening his rumpled coat and smoothing down his lapels. “I don’t expect you to make that kind of sacrifice; no one should.”
“I don’t want to leave you here, with him,” he told her plaintively.
Christine smiled at him, reaching up to brush a lock of hair back from his brow. Standing on her toes, almost en pointe as the dancer she was, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Raoul, for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget it, and I’ll never forget you. Live a good life, won’t you?”
He nodded, dumbly, his throat suddenly too thick to allow any words. Briefly, Christine’s fingers traced the line of his jaw. She whispered, “God bless you,” and then she was gone, the door of the bedroom closing silently behind her.
________________________________________
Raoul stood for some minutes in the dim hallway before he became aware of a presence behind him. He turned to see Meg standing on the threshold of the library.
“I’m sorry,” she said simply.
He hefted the diamond ring in his hand. Christine never had worn it publicly, he realised. He should have guessed that something was not right when she insisted upon keeping their engagement a secret. “Maybe I’ll live to be lucky at cards, eh?” he remarked, trying to inject a levity he did not feel into his voice. His gaze returned to the closed door, his thoughts to the man behind it. “He’s won, hasn’t he?”
“Don’t think of it like that.” Meg laid a comforting hand on his arm. “If you do, you’ll be bitter to the end of your days.”
They stood in silence for a while. Raoul was grateful for her company; the last thing he wanted just now was to be alone. “Does she love him, do you think?” he wondered at last.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
“Does he love her?”
“I don’t know that either.”
He sighed, wanting nothing more than to sink to the floor, cover his face with his hands and curl up into a ball. It felt as though his heart had shattered like the fallen chandelier, its shards flung far and wide. “What can I do, Meg?”
She squeezed his arm. “Christine has made her decision; now you have to let her make her own mistakes.”
Raoul glanced down at her, wishing he could be so pragmatic. “Is that what you would do, as her friend?” She nodded. “And if things go wrong?”
“I will be here to pick up the pieces,” Meg said firmly. “That’s what friends are for.”
They didn’t speak again, but both knew that the other was watching that door and hoping that there would be no pieces to collect.
Author: charleygirl
Word Count: 1455
Rating: G
Genre: General, Drama
Characters Involved: Raoul de Chagny, Christine Daae, Meg Giry
Disclaimer: The Phantom of the Opera is the creation of Gaston Leroux but probably these days copyright to Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Summary: Raoul recieves a bolt from the blue.
Author's Note: Chapter title taken from my other favourite musical, Evita
THE ACTRESS HASN’T LEARNED THE LINES YOU’D LIKE TO HEAR
“Christine, we can go home now. He’s in good hands.”
They stood in the hallway, Christine staring at the closed bedroom door. Madame Giry had remained within, and been joined by Doctor Lambert; this time Raoul did not offer his assistance, his concern solely for Christine. He hoped that the unhappy man behind that door would get the help he needed, but he was someone else’s burden now. They were finally free.
He took Christine’s hand, squeezing it. “You can forget all of this, everything that’s happened. We can start again, away from Paris, if that’s what you wish.”
She glanced up at him, gnawing on her bottom lip. “I... I don’t want to forget, Raoul.”
“You don’t..?” He frowned, confused. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying...” Christine took a deep breath and pulled away from him slightly. She looked down at her feet for a long time, and then at last raised her head to meet his eyes. “I’m saying that I’m staying here.”
Raoul stared at her in astonishment, almost thinking he had misheard her. “Christine – darling – there is no need for you to stay any longer. The Phantom... Erik... he has Meg and Madame Giry; he doesn’t need you as well. He doesn’t want you here, he made that perfectly plain. Please, come home with me.”
She shook her head, and he felt his horror mounting. She couldn’t be serious, surely? Who would want to remain, entombed in the ground like this, with a wounded, unstable man who could barely control his temper? “I’m sorry, Raoul, I can’t.” Holding out her hand to him, she unfurled her fingers: in her palm, sparkling in the lamplight, was a diamond ring. His heart sank at the sight of it. “Please, take it.”
“Christine, don’t do this,” he begged, unconsciously echoing her own words to the Phantom just a few moments before. She did not withdraw her hand. “I love you! And I thought you loved me too.”
“Oh, Raoul.” Her eyes were sad, but he did not miss the by now familiar determined set to her mouth. How could he have failed to see the confidence which had been growing within her over the past few weeks? “I do love you, but I realise now that I love you as a brother and a friend, as that brave, impulsive boy who ran into the sea to fetch my scarf.”
“Then why - ”
“That was so long ago! We are different people now – I’m not that little girl any longer, I’m not Little Lotte.” When he made no move to take the ring she reached for his hand, setting the diamonds there and curling his fingers around them. “I should never have agreed to marry you. It wasn’t fair of me, but I was alone and scared and I wanted to be safe. You deserve someone who can love you with all her heart, and I just can’t do that.”
Raoul’s stomach lurched. He swallowed slowly. “Is this because of him?” he asked, already sure of the answer.
“Perhaps.” Christine’s eyes dropped to the floor once more, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
“Christine, he abducted you - twice! He frightened you to death, made you scared of your own shadow! How can you keep defending him?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think I do.” His tone was sharper than he intended, and her head flew up, startled.
“I don’t want to lead you a dance, Raoul, pretending that I feel something I don’t. Please believe me, you are worth more than that.”
“It doesn’t matter! I’d endure anything just to be with you.” The ring felt cold and heavy in his grip; its delicate gold band might as well have been a lead weight. He held it out to her. “Please, please think again.”
“I can’t!” Her big brown eyes were full of tears. “I won’t make you miserable, and that is what would happen eventually. Sooner or later, you would want more than I could give, and you would hate me for it. I can’t suffer that, and neither should you. We have to make this break now, before it’s too late.”
“Christine... Christine... you are the only woman I have ever wanted to marry. I need you, I love you more than anything in the world,” Raoul said desperately. “Please say that you won’t forsake me.”
“I can’t... I can’t say what you want to hear.” Wringing her hands, she moved down the hall. She leant against an intricate table, and stroked the red velvet curtain which hung across one of the doorways, a sad smile touching her drawn face. With a jolt, Raoul realised that she looked quite at home in this extraordinary setting, more than she had ever done in his brother’s grand chateau or the Hôtel de Chagny. In those lavish rooms she appeared as lost and fragile as a single rose, plucked and left to wilt in a crystal vase; he saw now that she had never been content, not really. There had always been something missing, something she somehow found in an impossible house deep underground.
“Can you truly be happy here, with him?” he asked. “I remember when the darkness terrified you.”
Christine turned, the curtain falling from her grasp. “It did, until I realised there was darkness within me, too. The first time, after the gala, I admit he took me by surprise and I was scared, but tonight... tonight I went with him of my own free will. I don’t expect you to understand, Raoul,” she added, before he could speak, “I don’t even understand it myself, not entirely. I just know that your world of wealth and privilege felt more of a prison to me than this place could ever be.”
Clutching at straws, Raoul said quickly, “We could leave all that, go somewhere far away, just the two of us! Christine - ”
“You would hate it.” She stepped up to him, straightening his rumpled coat and smoothing down his lapels. “I don’t expect you to make that kind of sacrifice; no one should.”
“I don’t want to leave you here, with him,” he told her plaintively.
Christine smiled at him, reaching up to brush a lock of hair back from his brow. Standing on her toes, almost en pointe as the dancer she was, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Raoul, for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget it, and I’ll never forget you. Live a good life, won’t you?”
He nodded, dumbly, his throat suddenly too thick to allow any words. Briefly, Christine’s fingers traced the line of his jaw. She whispered, “God bless you,” and then she was gone, the door of the bedroom closing silently behind her.
________________________________________
Raoul stood for some minutes in the dim hallway before he became aware of a presence behind him. He turned to see Meg standing on the threshold of the library.
“I’m sorry,” she said simply.
He hefted the diamond ring in his hand. Christine never had worn it publicly, he realised. He should have guessed that something was not right when she insisted upon keeping their engagement a secret. “Maybe I’ll live to be lucky at cards, eh?” he remarked, trying to inject a levity he did not feel into his voice. His gaze returned to the closed door, his thoughts to the man behind it. “He’s won, hasn’t he?”
“Don’t think of it like that.” Meg laid a comforting hand on his arm. “If you do, you’ll be bitter to the end of your days.”
They stood in silence for a while. Raoul was grateful for her company; the last thing he wanted just now was to be alone. “Does she love him, do you think?” he wondered at last.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly.
“Does he love her?”
“I don’t know that either.”
He sighed, wanting nothing more than to sink to the floor, cover his face with his hands and curl up into a ball. It felt as though his heart had shattered like the fallen chandelier, its shards flung far and wide. “What can I do, Meg?”
She squeezed his arm. “Christine has made her decision; now you have to let her make her own mistakes.”
Raoul glanced down at her, wishing he could be so pragmatic. “Is that what you would do, as her friend?” She nodded. “And if things go wrong?”
“I will be here to pick up the pieces,” Meg said firmly. “That’s what friends are for.”
They didn’t speak again, but both knew that the other was watching that door and hoping that there would be no pieces to collect.