tampered | Log; Complete

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Log; Complete

When; Saturday, evening.
Rating; PG?
Characters; Christine (

princess_crow) & Erik (if the mun wants).
Summary; Christine arrives; Rue tells her to join her at the stage.
Log;
The torrential rain had ruined whatever plan Rue had to go to the Cafe for crème puffs and tea. She had waited vainly for it to stop during hours before she gave up and returned to the stage in order to practice the basics.

Rue had changed into a maroon bodice and a pair of matching, satin en pointe shoes. She had tied her long, black hair up with a clip and grabbed a towel to wash the sweat of her face after she was done with the practice. Fortunately, the Opera House contained a huge clothing supply that suited her just fine. No one else wore them.

The Opera House was far too big for two lonely souls who yearned for the embrace of their lost soulmates.

On the silent stage of the Carnival City, illuminated with dim light, Rue had performed the fifth positions with her feet and hands, finishing with a demi-plié and a plié.

Professor Cat would have been proud of me, Rue thought, sitting on the edge of the stage, placing the white towel over her shoulders. Her former teacher always remarked the importance of the basic positions, even among the advanced students such as her or her Prince.

Her Prince.

Rue could already sense the darkness stir within her body to notice his absence. The rain and grey sky outside did not help. Shadows played with her mind, drawing fake crow wings for her tormented eyes.

To distract herself from the despair the memory of Mytho provoked her, the Prima Donna checked the strange device that she had acquired in the City to read briefly the whereabouts of those trapped within as her.

It was during her break that afternoon, Rue realized Mr. Erik and her were no longer alone in the Opera House. A newcomer had arrived recently, one that the Ghost of the Opera knew very well.

Settling the towel to a side, she waited for the arrival of Miss Christine. Rue wondered what type of woman Mr. Erik had fallen in love with. What intentions that missy might have had now with him? She would not stand to see her only close acquaintance in the City with a bleeding heart.

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Christine managed to find her way to the Opera House with the help of several passersby. Most people in the city carried umbrellas on their person to keep the rain off of themselves, but Christine was too hurried to care that her dress and brown hair were soaked. She tried to stay near places that had people; every time she wandered off without anyone close by, the maddening ticking that had assaulted her ears when she arrived began again.

By the time she reached the Opera House, she was hardly presentable. Shivering, her breath coming out in puffs of smoke, Christine opened the doors to the Opera House, following the instructions Rue gave her to the stage. Her blue dress clung to her, and her normally curly hair was straight for the time being. She opened the doors to the stage and stifled a gasp.

The stage was enormous, almost big enough to envy the Paris Opera House. All of the red velvet seats were vacant, and a chandelier hung gracefully near the carefully painted roof. Everything looked to be in perfect condition as she walked down one of the aisles towards the stage. It's beautiful, she thought in wonder.

Christine spotted the black-haired girl watching her from the stage. All of a sudden, she realized that the ticking had stopped. Why this was so, she wasn't sure, but the thought of the Phantom and that he was here, somewhere, pushed thoughts of the ticking aside.

'You must be Rue, am I right?' Christine asked gently. The girl seemed quite protective of the Phantom, and had already shown a hint of dislike towards her. She didn't want her first interaction with someone in this city to be a complete disaster, so she would tread carefully.

Rue heard the door opening and leaped out the edge of the stage down, landing gracefully en pointe, her arms spread lightly to balance the fall. She stepped forward, turning on the lights as Mr. Erik had taught her during her first day in the Opera House, offering Miss Christine more lightening to ease her path to her.

Oh, she knew the woman had come for the ticking had stopped and that only happened in company of another. Rue did not mind the noise any longer; it distracted her thoughts so fixated on her lost Prince.

“Princess Rue,” Rue corrected Christine with a haughty sniff, looking at her crossly. There, in her judgmental surveillance of the other woman, the Prima Donna noticed she was soaked wet and disgruntled. Her features softened, cursing her lack of manners and her own temper. She was not like Ahiru, she had problems to connect with others.

Rue would mend her discourtesy immediately. Thus, she strode towards the stage and picked up the unused white towel to offer the cloth to Christine. “But you are allowed to address me as Rue, Miss Christine. Take this. I’ll escort you to the dressers before you catch a cold or something worse,” she added, smiling.

'Oh...thank you,' Christine said, taking the towel gratefully. She truly was grateful, and relieved. It would be good to get out of her wet clothes and into something more comfortable.

She's a princess? What is a princess doing in a place like this, all alone? She looks young...I wonder where her parents are, Christine wondered, drying herself off. She would ask these personal questions later; now wasn't the time. She returned Rue's smile, glad to find that underneath the girl's cold exterior was a person of genuine kindness.

'Does it always rain like this?' Christine asked. She did not know this place or its weather temperaments, and if it rained like it was all the time, she didn't think she would like this city very much. 'It hasn't let up at all; I'm surprised the streets aren't flooded by now.' Christine got a better look at the girl. She was a ballerina, Christine could see, and she kept herself from engaging the princess in whatever babblings were trying to break free.

Control yourself, she mentally told herself. You can talk to her about these things later. You need to learn more about where you are first.

Rue glanced at Christine’s hair curiously. Hadn’t Mr. Erik told her his beloved had blonde hair? She could ask her if she changed her colour later. Several ladies preferred to apply tints to their hair, unpleased by the result of nature. Rue often contemplated to get the rid of her own shade - black as a crow’s feather.

“I don’t know, Miss Christine,” replied Rue as she beckoned the singer to follow her at the back of the stage. There were satyrs and gargoyles that used to adorned the stage, sprawled and hidden in the shadows. They were too creepy for Rue’s taste in decoration. “I arrived recently. This is the first time it rains since I’m here.”

'I see. You know no more about this place than I do,' Christine murmured, following the girl closely, the towel wrapped tightly around her shoulders. 'I'm curious....you haven't been hearing an odd ticking sound lately, have you? It's been driving me mad and I have no idea where it's coming from. It's gone now,' Christine added hastily, hoping that the young monarch wouldn't think that she was indeed mad.

Christine looked around the back of the stage, taking in all of the unused props. Satyrs and gargoyles leered from the shadows, sets from Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro to Georges Bizet's infamous Carmen. 'This is a very impressive l'Opera House,' Christine commented. 'It reminds me of home.'

Could anything be greater than Place de l'Opera? She wasn't sure, but this certainly came very, very, very close. She could tell that there was still work to be done on making it acceptable for the public, but what she did see was very promising. In time, it could very well be a beautiful palace for the arts. She had no doubt that the Phantom would be the king of this realm, even more so than he had been at the Palais Garnier.

“Hmph. Don’t exaggerated, Miss Christine. Of course I know more than you of the City,” Rue informed her, opening the door and ushering the woman through it. There was a narrow corridor, illuminated by bright lights; the walls were decorated by rich tapestries and frescos. The dressers were located at the end of the corridor. “The ticking disappears when you stay with someone. I don’t know why is that. I only heard rumors that comes from the carousel.”

Rue stopped when she reached the end, gesturing to the close door. “Choose your wardrobe, Miss Christine. There are different designs and sizes,” she commented, crossing her arms. “I will wait outside until you finish changing.” She made a pause, deciding it would be a good practice for her responsibilities as Mytho’s Princess to play hostess. “I suppose you are hungry. There is a kitchen in this level.”

Christine nodded. 'I am a little bit hungry,' she admitted. 'Thank you again, Miss Rue.' She gave the girl a smile in spite of herself before turning to open one of the dresser drawers.

She was surprised at what she found. Women's and men's clothing from every era of humankind and beyond were in these shelves. She was stunned. Some of these dresses cost thousands of francs back in Paris, dresses that she could only dream of wearing. 'Remarkable,' she murmured in awe, finally choosing a light red gown. It was nothing fancy, but not too plain either.Rue was indeed a princess, and based on what she had told her before, the Opera Ghost lurked nearby. She wanted to look nice for him, even if it was to slightly please her teacher somewhat.

She entered the dressing room and disposed of her wet clothing. It was a relief to have the freezing dress off of her, and the temperature inside the Opera House was not displeasing. She waited a moment, letting the warmth wash over her and relieve the numbness in her toes and fingers.

Remembering who was waiting for her, Christine dressed, fixing her hair as best she could before draping the wet blue gown over the changing screen. It would dry there well enough. She left the room feeling ten-times better than she had before.

'Thank you for waiting for me,' Christine curtsied as was customary. It wasn't necessary, perhaps, but manners had taught her otherwise.

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Christine,” Rue replied and set to wait. The Opera House curious heat system kept the rooms warm enough for her to be able to walk with bodices and tutus if she wanted. There was no need for her to change unless it was absolutely necessary.

As Christine dressed herself, Rue stood still, musing about the woman’s appearance. Mr. Erik would be glad to see her, she was sure of it, but she did not wish to be forgotten because of the woman’s arrival. It put her at unease her position at the Opera House was threatened, it made her tainted blood boiled in selfishness. But she was strong, she was Rue.

Taking a deep breath allowed Rue to focus on the world. On the sumptuous corridor she was on. There was no darkness there, or inside her heart. She would not allow it again. The sound of the door opening snapped Rue of her struggle. Blinking, she beheld surprised Christine’s curtsy.

“I…” Rue trailed off, her pale cheeks blushed bright, losing her ability to speak up. “I wouldn’t leave you alone, Miss Christine. It’s horrible to be alone in this City. I know that in flesh.”

Christine was touched by the girl's words. For all of her efforts to act strong and immovable, Rue had a heart of gold. Christine wondered if others had treated her badly because they were unable to see the kind girl within. Misconceptions of others seemed to be all too frequent lately.

'Talking of depressing things only dampens the mood, don't you think?' Christine asked kindly. 'What is it that you do at the Opera House? Other than ballet, of course,' she added hurriedly. She was still itching to talk to her about ballet, but kept her composure. She hadn't talked to fellow ballerinas or singers in years. She had kept a correspondence with Meg, but they barely talked of the Opera House and their lives there. Raoul took her to several performances throughout the years; never to the Palais Garnier, however. There were too many memories, and Raoul was reluctant to even chance the possibility that certain ghosts still lingered.

In her own way, Christine had mourned her loss of being a part of the theatre. Her life with her family was good, yes, but things still weren't the same. Her life at the Opera House was most of what she knew. The formalities of court and the responsibilities that came with being the Vicomte de Chagny's wife were foreign to her, and even after all these years, she was unable to get used to them.

Raoul is not here, and neither is Anthony, she told herself. You are in a strange new place, Christine. Let your concerns for your family rest awhile. You don't seem to be the only one who's lost.

Rue nodded in agreement. Thinking in depressing subjects damped her mood as the rain had dampened her schedule for the day. She whirled to her left, motioned Christine to follow her as they conversed. She was going to take her to the kitchen, so they could serve themselves something to eat and drink.

“I cook and arrange my own room. The stage too,” Rue commented, pondering to see if there was a missing detail. “I also spend time with Mr. Erik, he’s a lonely soul and I am also trapped by myself in this City. He will compose a ballet for me.” She hoped she had the chance to dance it with her beloved Prince one day. “Oh, and one day we had to fence the Opera House from an intruder who wanted to held a boisterous convention within!”

She made a pause, glancing at her dainty ring: a marriage alliance. That would break Mr. Erik’s heart. “Are you married, Miss Christine?”

Christine followed the girl as before, holding her skirt up so as not to tread on them. Her eyes widened when she spoke of an intruder who wished to hold a convention in an Opera House. 'Why would someone do that?' She asked. 'Don't they know that an Opera House is for music, and the arts? It is not a place for boisterous merry-making. Such things are for the backstage, where the workers live. The only parties in the Palais Garnier were Masque Balls, from what I can remember.'

She smiled at the thought of the Phantom writing a ballet for the young princess. He was a genius, she had to admit that. That he would do such a great deed for this girl touched Christine. He must be her only friend, she realized. They are here, all alone, with no one else to talk to.

Rue's question brought Christine back to the present. Was she married? Yes, by all standards she was. Just because she had suddenly found herself somewhere new did not mean that she wasn't. She tried to recall again what exactly happened before she had arrived here. The sounds of a horse rearing and the screech of an autocar was her only answer. What happened to me? she wondered. Why is the Phantom here, and everyone else someplace else?

She shook her head, ridding herself of her confusion as best she could. 'Yes,' she answered. 'It...is all right, I suppose. Things are very different. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and my son, but it came with a price.

'Things like that always do,' she murmured.

“Because they are ignorant idiots without basic education or common sense,” Rue assured Christine quite miffed to remember the ordeal. The Opera House entrance had been swarmed in those hideous pamphlets. She was certain there were still some outside walls covered with them. “We didn’t think it funny.” Nor did the building, according to Mr. Erik but Rue did not believe the construction spoke to him.

Rue hesitated to press further after Christine’s troubled answer of the marriage question. She held her gaze with her intense, red eyes before opening the kitchen’s door, gesturing for her to go first.

“Happiness comes with a price and a long battle against the obstacles,” she murmured while she entered to the kitchen. She looked wary to employ those strange boxes and devices that did not belong to her era. There was barely coal and wood to heat things. So she usually ate her meal cold. “As long there is love, everything is all right.” Rue paused, opening the odd white box that kept the supplies under a low temperature to extract juice. “I was happily engaged before I was taken to this place.” She cast her gaze down, the absence of her Prince made her heart bleed in agony.

The front door of the opera house lets a breeze circulate through the main foyer. Erik stomps dirt from his feet as he keeps walking toward the stage. "I must remember to write a stern letter to Mr. Valentine. It has been far too long since he has even mentioned a dog and I still think that we could use one or two around."

He proceeds to step in, walking to the stage. "Rue? Isn't it time for practice?" He sighs and removes his cloak and drapes it over the piano before sitting on it himself. While waiting for the ballerina he organizes the sheet music.

The Phantom's voice echoed towards the kitchen. Christine froze, unable to move, or speak, or think of anything except for the fact that he was here. He was in the same room as her, so very, very close. The man who had inspired her voice and had made her the woman she was today. The Phantom himself. He was not dead, no, he was here.

She swallowed, trying to keep herself from trembling. How many years has it been? she thought, trying to think of something that would snap her out of this paralyzed state. Three, four years? I can't remember.

She took a shuddering breath, willing herself to maintain some self-control, focusing on Miss Rue and what she had just told her. 'How cruel...' she murmured. 'This place isn't kind, is it, if it does these sorts of things to people.'

Erik sighs and stands. "If you won't come out, I'm going to just take my time." He stands and walks, finding himself feeling peckish Erik heads to the kitchen. Upon seeing the lights on he enters. "Well there you--"

Words fail as he sees not only Rue but another woman. He steps back one step after another. This is a cruel trick. A curse that I was not warned of yet. Erik forces himself to blink and attempts to compose himself.

Rue heard him too and watched Christine’s reaction. She did not know how he managed to echo his voice through the entire damned place!

Time for practice? Rue thought insulted, crossing her arms irked. That was about an hour ago. What sort of broken clock does he employ?

Quietly, she glanced at Christine, thinking what to do now. If Erik found out she was married and with a child, no less! But she could not sequester her either. He would be angry if she did.

“He’s at the stage,” she said curtly. “If you are able to face him, Miss Christine. He’s playing the piano-” Her words were caught short when he emerged to search for her. Rue moved shiftily out the way and minded her attention in pouring juice for her and something stronger for the other two.

Christine gathered her resolve and turned to face the Phantom. He looked just as stunned to see her as she was to see him. She was not afraid of his face any longer. Mask or no, she would only see the man that he was. She stared at him, struggling to find the right words to say. What do you say to someone who has gone through hell and back, who has loved you with every inch of love in their soul only to shove it back in their face and leave them for someone else? she asked herself. Is there anything you can say for what you've done to him?

'....I'm sorry,' she managed to say, meaning every syllable. 'I am so sorry for what I have done. It was cruel and unfair of me to treat you in such a manner. I have thought of you often, and have never been able to forgive myself.'

There. She said it. She said what she wished she had said to him years ago. Would he run? Or would he treat her just as she treated him? She wasn't sure what was going through his mind at that moment.

Her words touch the empty air and Erik shakily lifts a hand over his eyes. Right now his only thoughts are of breathing, any other function of the brain is deeped too complicated for the moment.

"R-rue... child, tell me. Please tell me you see her too," his voice is tight with pain and disbelief. "Tell me you hear her."

Rue rushed to Erik’s side, offering him a goblet with red wine. She looked at Christine then at her unusual housemate once again, stilling her hand over his shoulder. He really needed to employ some perfume to hide the smell somehow.

“I do, Mr. Erik,” assured Rue as soft as she could. “Miss Christine recently arrived. She was lost, hungry and soaked by the rain. I offered her shelter.” She would not ask if she was wrong or right. Rue did not need his permission. “She is as real as you and me.”

Christine nodded in affirmation to Rue's story. 'Miss Rue is very kind indeed,' she said, wondering if it would be safe to approach Erik. She took a tentative step forward. 'It really is me. I don't know how I got here or why, but I am here nonetheless.'

She glanced at Rue, nervousness making her stomach tie in knots. Was she doing this right? It all seemed ephereal, as if she were in a dream. But this was as real as the blood in her veins. She couldn't wake up from this even if she wanted to...and she didn't. She would take everything as it came.

"Turning you out into the rain is not an option....Christine." Erik has spoken her name so often and yet this time there is a strange unfamiliarity now that she is actually here to be addressed. He looks away and takes a rather large drink of the wine. "It has been most dreadful these past few hours one could drown on the street."

"Thank you for the wine, Rue." Feeling solidified in his body by the drink, he again lifts his glass.

If she is here... "I suspect you will be staying the night until your husband fetches you. You are welcomed to." A facade of formality slides over Erik's surprise and nerves as he tries to sort what weight is in his chest.

They expected her to be the pillar to help them, didn’t they? Gods, Rue could barely hold herself in one piece, they surely wouldn’t pretend that! Where was Ahiru and her life-saving little speeches routine when she needed her!

Rue cleared her throat and fetched the empty glass away from Erik, looking at him with determination and concern. “You should sit down, Mr. Erik. Your knees are shaking,” she said firmly, trying to drag the man to the nearest chair. She was quite demanding on her way to do things right; Rue was not allowing Erik decline that due to stupid pride. “Miss Christine is trapped alone in the City. Her husband isn’t here,” she reminded him, glancing briefly at Christine to corroborate her truth on that.

'Raoul is not here. I came alone,' she told him, sitting herself a few seats away from him. 'It is just us.' She gestured to the both of them to include Rue in her statement. 'I know as little about this place as you do.'

She felt guilty for having to put Rue through the motions of being the referee in their conversation when the girl obviously already had a lot on her mind. Christine felt like a child again; a shy, timid thing who found it hard to find the right words to say.

Tentatively, she reached across the table to grasp a bone-like hand in one of her own. He was cold as always. 'We're going to have to work together in this strange place. I won't leave you this time,' she assured him. It was true; he was the only one that she knew in this strange place, before she had made Rue's acquaintance.She didn't know if there even was a way out of this city.

Erik looks to Rue after practically falling into it. The child certainly had strengths of her own. She surely must think he's being foolish in this unstable mannerism he's taken up.

Christine's words in addition to her touch create a heat on Erik's skin. He looks into her face and all the disbelief he's felt is gone completely.

"You are...most welcome to stay with us...with me, Christine if that is truly what you wish." He clears his throught and braces his tone with more confidance. "You are free to come and go as you please in this strange City, but know that I will be ready to help you in whatever way you need."

Erik looks down at their joined hands and slowly sighs.

Satisfied with Erik safely on a chair and out of peril of fainting on the floor, Rue released him to speak with Christine. She assented when the other woman stated that they were just then, looking away after doing so.

Christine was right and that made Rue extremely miserable. She wanted her Prince’s embrace more than anything. The darkness kept strangulating her heart, extinguishing her life as Rue. It was unfair only Erik got his significant other with him.

But she’s married and with a child. He’ll be as miserable as you when he finds that out, a malicious voice murmured inside her. Rue covered her face with both hands and whirled, her heart pounded faster. That voice…was hers yet not. Kraehe.

“I… I’ll make dinner,” Rue stated anxiously, glancing over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on Erik. “You should show Miss Christine her room.” She knew he had prepared one for Christine since the beginning. The reserved quarters he had told it was taken.

She looked at the food supplies with annoyance. Rue hoped that would not ruin her royal hands. They should me soft and beautiful for Mytho. Oh well, Ahiru. This is harder than it looks like. How did you do it?

The room! The first room beside his own and Rue's to be refurbished was a ladies dressing room. Erik told himself it was just for when the opera would be opened, but that was a lie. The decour as completely catered to Christine's taste. He had been very careful not to make it look like her other room, even he could not have standed that. Only in dreams did Erik imagine that she would stay.

"Yes. You must be very tired. There is a room ready not far. Please follow me." He stood and felt the shaking Rue had talked of earlier.

Erik met Rue's gaze and catches a shadow of sadness in her eyes. She surely misses her prince as much as he has missed Christine. "Rue, I shall be only a moment and we shall fix a meal together."

Christine rose from her seat, giving Rue a worried glance. 'Are you all right?' she asked the young princess. 'I know I don't know this place very well and I just arrived here, but....I will help you to find your prince in any way I can.' She gave a reassuring smile; Christine didn't even know who Rue's Prince was or what he looked like, but it didn't matter. Rue had shown her kindness, and she would repay her for doing so. I start making up for my past mistakes now, she told herself.

Christine smiled once again at the thought of the young girl and Erik cooking things in the strange kitchen. It warmed her heart to know that he had begun to make companions, and was not limited to the anti-social life that was the catacombs of the Palais Garnier. I guess this City isn't that bad, in that aspect, I suppose, she thought. I still think it sad that Rue was taken from her Prince.

She bit her lip for a moment, thinking. She was with Raoul and Anthony before she came here. If they had come with her, Raoul would find her by the next day. If not, then what she said was true, and she was alone here. If this City did not let people leave, then maybe it would be better to let them go. Anthony was still so young, and he needed a mother who was there to care for him. Raoul was strong, but Christine had told him before that if anything had happened to her, she wished for him to find someone else to love, and to have happiness.

Wait. If he does not come within the next two days, then you know something is very wrong, she thought. I should talk to someone who knows about this place, and find out what happened to me. Either way, I won't leave Erik again, that I am sure of.

“No,” Rue declined Erik’s offer, shaking her head softly. She knew very well how much Christine meant to him and to show herself as Rue, she would be selfless, even if it hurt her. Kraehe would have accepted the offer and cantered all the attention in an egoistical manner. “Mr. Erik, I always fix the meal without help,” she mentioned with a small smile. “You can take it her quarters when is done.”

Slowly, Rue’s gaze fell on Christine. The woman was gentle and empathic as Ahiru was, but lacked what made her duck friend special: her optimism. “You will? I…” she started, inclining her head formally. “I appreciate your offer. I really do. But you can’t help me in this, Miss Christine. Instead of bothering with matters of my heart, you should take care of yours.” She was rather blunt in her opinion. It was obvious the woman held affection for Erik but also, she was married and had a son with another.

The opera ghost nodded. Rue knew how to take care of herself, and although he could see that she was not in the best of spirits Erik would make a point to speak with her when they had a chance. From her response, he gathered that now the young princess wished to be alone. "Rue is quite talented when she puts her mind to a task, Christine. She is a very skilled dancer, I'm sure she must have told you."

He rose slowly not pulling away far to break the contact of his hand with Christine's. She had willingly reached out to take his hand! Erik was treating her touch as though it were from a saint. "I shall take you to your room. I hope it is to your liking."

Christine did not know what to say in response to Rue's statement. It had hit home extremely hard, forcing Christine to snap back into the reality of the situation. She couldn't go around flirting with any man that she wanted, not while she was still married by all accounts. Such behavior was deemed improper by many ladies of the court.

This isn't the court, Christine, a voice inside her head, one that she had not heard in a very long time, scolded her. You know better than that. This isn't France, either. And you know just as well that Raoul isn't here. You can hope and dream and pine all you like, but he isn't coming. You hardly even know where you are! How is he supposed to find you? He won't, end of story. If you need closure, go find it. But don't act as if you're an upstanding wife and are better than everybody else like all of the other duchesses and nobles. You've daydreamed more than once about the Phantom, and you know it.

Trying to hide the blush that was forming in her cheeks, Christine gave Erik her most winning smile. 'Of course. If you designed it, I'm sure I will.' He was a marvelous architect, after all.

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