The reason they gave up this lifestyle in canon was that Raoul's brother was murdered, with the general assumption being that Raoul had gone off his head and killed him in a quarrel over his affair with Christine Daaé. Under those circumstances - going by what is said in the introduction, together with the final chapters - Leroux hints that they found it healthier to elope and enjoy their obvious happiness together in obscurity somewhere where Raoul wasn't regarded as the suspect in an unsolved criminal case :-(

However, if you want to base stories on the Lloyd Webber musical, there's no reason to presume that Christine didn't marry Raoul and take her place in society in that version of reality...(and indeed I've written a couple of post-canon vignettes based on just that assumption!)

I'm all in favour of R/C stories - obviously! :-)
But while I like the contrast you're making here between 'the Comtesse' and 'Christine', I didn't feel this story really started to work until we got down to "The more likely story, one that is not as often scoffed at". The writing in the opening paragraphs is stiff and phrased rather oddly in many places ("could not keep their eyes off of her" shouldn't have an 'of'; "certain to meet an unpleasant reprimanding" should be "certain to meet with an unpleasant reprimand").

It also has an overload of adjectives and descriptions: "gorgeous porcelain visage", "glittering diamond eyes", "twinkled like stars that hung abve them outside" - I don't know if you've come across the concept of the infamous Mary Sue, but this is the sort of language we tend to see lavished on *her*, to counterproductive effect. (As a general rule, it's best to avoid comparing heroines to precious stones - "her sapphire eyes flashed at him!" - or other inanimate valuables - "her flowing copper locks tumbled over a china brow" - and above all, food - "her chocolate curls brushed the peach-like skin of her cheek")
I understand that you're trying to tell the readers how beautiful the Comtesse is, but in these paragraphs the constant qualification of almost every noun by an additional adjective - "constant noise", "delicate forehead", "glamorous diva", "ear-splitting laughs" - soon becomes exhausting to read; the prose would flow better, I feel, if it were pared down a bit.

"She's a shy thing, the guests would say. Her modest upbringing made her so, they said" - this is much more successful, conveying obliquely here both the atmosphere of gossip in the ballroom (aided by the repetition), and the substance of what is being said.

I realise that you're trying to avoid Christine's name in the first half, but I felt that the repeated references to "the girl" read rather awkwardly; I think a lot of them could simply read "she" or "her" without any risk of ambiguity, and it would sound more natural (e.g. "He introduced her to various social circles", "Not very much was known about her past")

On the other hand, I loved the little description of Raoul tailing his young wife "like a puppy ready to pounce at any opportunity to please his master" (and hence "her little Comte"), and the whole of this fifth paragraph and much of what follows reads a lot more smoothly; the style is more original and more fluent, and it's as if it just took that long for the author to get into the flow of things :-)

One thing I did notice is that the story occasionally wanders between tenses, which is a bit disorienting: the sentence about how "there were rumours" (p[ast tense) is followed by one in which "It is never said" (present tense), for instance, and we are told that in a story "that is not as often scoffed at" (present tense), "it made sense as to why the boy was so very attracted" (past tense).
I think that if it is being narrated in the past tense - which it apparently is - then the whole thing needs to be consistently in the past tense, generalisations, conditionals and all. e.g. "she may" in sentences like "released his wife's hand so that she may hike up her skirts" or "unwrapped her fingers from each of his wrists so that he may delicately remove her lace gloves" or "so that he may unbutton her dress" needs to be "so that she might"

I like the image of the two of them constantly being seen whispering together, "too quick and too quiet for anyone to ever make it out", and that Christine keeps her undignified giggles for her husband while reserving polite laughter for her guests. (Though can a giggle really be described as a bell-like laugh? I'd have described it as a much *less* open and ringing sound than laughter, more like the chirping twitter of a small bird than an open-throated note of amusement.)

"her guest always shouted and squealed as loud as they pleased" - this is presumably a typo for "guests"
"a mother holding its newborn babe" - a mother is always female, so it would have to be *her* newborn babe

"her husband stood with a pipe in a circle of men" - I find it hard to imagine people smoking pipes at a ball; a pipe is a very domestic and unglamorous object! (I also suspect that if they'd wanted to smoke they'd have been expected to go outside, or at least ask the ladies' permission first.)

"slipping out of the intricate up do" - "up do" feels a bit anachronistic here to me, because it implies that this was something special, whereas *every* adult woman wore her hair up all the time - it was a rite of passage, like being allowed to wear long skirts (only little girls had knee-length dresses). People didn't talk about having "an up do" any more than they remarked upon the fact that their boots had buttons and not zips; they wore their hair up in lots of different styles and had names for all those, but the general 'up-ness' was taken for granted.

"The sooner an heir is produced, the sooner you can relax, dear" - has Christine by any chance accidentally announced that she is pregnant by saying 'yes' to the wrong question? :-D

"rose from their seats to join their husbands for the dance" - I'm not sure about French etiquette, but in English balls it wasn't usual for husbands to dance with their wives; it certainly wasn't obligatory, and if they did it people would probably talk. I can see Raoul and Christine defying convention because they want to dance with each other, but probably not everybody else at the same time...

I like the idea that she has whispered "Save me" at parties so many times that her husband knows exactly what she is trying to tell him :-p
And I like the little touch of dry humour in "If she was not mistaken, there was no reason to run through the garden to get to their bedroom".

"bounced of the walls" - typo ("off")

"stroking her bare hands, playing them between his fingers as if they were sand" - I'm not at all sure what Raoul means here by "as if they were sand"; very difficult to play with hands like sand, I'd have thought, since sand runs away between the fingers :-(

"She longed for the days where her hair needn't be twisted and pulled" - again, no grown woman would normally walk around with her hair down her back; it would be like wearing knee-socks and sandals ;-p
I don't recall my mother ever complaining about aches and pains when she wore her hair up, although I do remember that she used to shed a lot of hairpins wherever she went!

Describing Christine as "whining" (in several places) isn't very attractive. (Neither, in my opinion, is pouting, but I have seen that done as a supposedly alluring expression - whining is always pejorative in my experience.)

I like Raoul's sense of responsibility to his guests :-p
(And the tacit acknowledgement that men have responsibilities that women are excused from; if she pleads illness at the drop of a hat, everyone will think her charming and frail. If he does it, then people will think him boorish and an obvious liar...)

"She only ever asked him to say "I love you," and without fail he turned it into a poem every time" - lovely :-)

It's actually much more original to have Raoul being the perfect gentleman and holding out for deferred gratification in the days to come than it is to have them falling into bed in the middle of the ball, I think - and much more in period ;-) And I like the "little sailor boy" to go with "little Lotte" as the promise for their summer together...

It refreshing to read some Raoul and Christine romance, for once. Your story was quite cute!

I liked that very much! They were so cute together. I do believe you're right that in the original, they went off to a house by a lake together. Anyway, well done :-)

Many thanks for this! I'm not normally an R/C 'shipper but I really enjoyed this story. You've done an excellent job of writing Christine and Raoul as 'real' people having to deal with the trappings of his social station - and the way the world around them views the situation. A little variation from the canon is welcome, sometimes... The detail on being questioned about motherhood sounds true to period too.

This is the cutest thing I've ever read. Thank you so much for writing it.

R/C fluff! Hooray! I'll never understand why they don't have more fluff fic, either. :(

That was wonderfully written and perfectly characterized. I adored it.

OMGGGG SOOOOOOO CUUUUTE!

There is not enough RC in this world and this is a treasured gem and it's adorable! I love it and I love them and I love their love! Ugh. I wish you would write a whole series of vignettes about their beautiful married lives and their love and how well they fit together. Such an amazing little story and I found myself smiling the whole time I read it! Thank you!