Disclaimer: The sexy Erik/Phantom is not mine, though I tried (and failed) to go back in time and get him.
AN: This is my first Phantom fic, so please be kind if something seems out of place or wrong. No, I haven't read the book or seen the Broadway musical; I'm totally going with my creative imagination, one viewing of the film, hundreds of fan fiction stories, and countless hours of listening to Gerard Butler sing on the soundtrack, so if I get something wrong, don't be afraid to tell me! Otherwise, I hope that you enjoy this and will review! Many thanks!
Chapter 1: Life Before the Opera House:
A chill wind blew through the small English village overlooking the sea, stealing the breath of those unfortunate enough as to have been caught out of doors on this horrible gray day. As Gustave Daae prepared his violin, he glanced over at this lovely wife, Laurette, who sat by the fireplace, stitching a hole in one of his shirts. His pale blue-gray eyes watched as her fingers nimbly worked the needle, seeming to magically cause the hole in his shirt's sleeve to vanish before his eyes. Oh, how he wished she were sewing something far smaller and more darling than his baggy shirt. He sighed.
"Merely sighing will bring you nothing," Laurette's soft voice whispered into the warm air of the small room. "Just be thankful that we have a comfortable inn to stay at on a day like this. It would cause serious harm to your violin, should you be caught traveling to London in weather like this!"
Gustave couldn't help but smile; his lovely wife always had a pleasant way of chiding him, and it warmed his heart. Instead of replying, though, he began to play, watching as the firelight glinted on Laurette's golden-blonde hair and made her blue eyes sparkle in a way that seemed to keep time with his music. Perhaps it was because of that sparkle in her eyes that he had married her…well, that and the fact that her bright smile could make his violin bow stop in midair while he was playing.
Tearing his eyes away from the pleasant sight, he turned his thoughts to his music. Unknowingly, he had begun to play a lullaby for babies and little children. He saw Laurette stop in her sewing and sigh as well, her eyes turning misty as she set aside her task on a nearby table and stood. Ever so softly, she made her way to his side and knelt in front of his knees, the sad, tearful look in her eyes causing to stop his playing, the violin bow dropping from the strings and into his lap.
A sudden knock on the door prevented the moment from becoming too much to bear. Gustave heaved a silent sigh of relief as he handed Laurette his instrument and went to see who could be knocking at this hour. They were comfortably situated in a private little cottage separate from the inn, so anyone who would try to visit the Daae's was in for a very cold wait in the oncoming darkness of the night.
Bracing himself for the wave of cold evening air, Gustave opened the door and was puzzled to see no one there. A small shuffling noise drew his gaze downwards to a carefully wrapped bundle in blue blankets, set comfortably in a large whicker basket. Thinking that someone had left a litter of kittens on his doorstep, Gustave shrugged and picked the bundle up, carrying it inside to his wife. Be it a litter of kittens or puppies, they would not go hungry under his roof! Laurette had a soft spot for animals of all kinds, though baby creatures were of a particular favorite of hers.
Setting the basket on the rug in front of the fire, he watched as his wife began to unwrap the slightly damp blanket, smiling as she did so with a look of eagerness in her eyes. Ah, well…if they could not have a child of their own, at least they could care for little animals that had been abandoned by those who did not want them. As a corner of the blanket fell away, Gustave heard his wife give a small cry of joy the likes of which he hadn't heard since the day he had proposed to her.
"Gustave!" she gasped, reaching into the basket and fully unwrapping its precious contents. "Oh, my love, look!"
Gustave Daae could not reply as he stared at the small being…the small baby girl gazing up at him with lovely, dark brown eyes.
Five Years Later: Sweden:
Marie playfully skipped beside her father, a cheerful smile on her lips as she did so. The two had been walking laps around their music room for the past hour, and Marie was beginning to get tired. Her loving Mama was elsewhere, a place that Marie was not allowed to go, so she had been forced to stay downstairs in the music room with her Papa as he continuously drove her mad with his walking, his impatiently running his fingers through his thick, dark hair.
"Papa!" she cried excitedly, her voice stopping her father in his tracks as he turned to look at her. "When will my brother or sister be here?"
Gustave could only smile at the eager little girl. It had been over five years since he and Laurette had taken Marie as their daughter, and now they were about to have a little babe of their very own! Marie had been ecstatic when they had told her that she would have a sibling to play with; her deep-brown eyes had lit up and her equally dark brown hair had trailed behind her as she rushed about, cheering and laughing with happiness. Marie may not have been their blood, but to the Daae's, she was their child, and would always remain so.
"Soon, petite," he said, stooping down and sweeping the little girl up in his arms.
Over the years, his precious little Marie had developed the uncanny ability to distract someone from their troubles by merely looking at them with her curious brown eyes and asking a simple question or two. Laurette had found her invaluable while taking afternoon tea with the wives of Gustave's admirers; whenever they asked Madame Daae a question that she was unable to answer or felt uncomfortable about, Marie would merely make an innocent comment or question about one of the women's dresses and receive coos of praise for her remarks.
'And now here she is, calming down her expectant Papa,' he thought, sitting down on the rug near the fireplace and placing Marie in his lap, crooning her a song as they continued their wait.
It was near dawn the next morning when Gustave saw the midwife enter the room, a large smile on her face as she approached him and the now-sleeping Marie.
"Congratulations, Monsieur, you have a baby girl," she said, looking down at the dozing child in his lap. "Your wife is resting, but you are free to visit her and the babe, if you wish."
Gustave leapt off the floor and headed upstairs, gently shaking his daughter awake as he did so. Marie blinked and rubbed her eyes as the two entered the master bedroom. There Laurette lay, her blue eyes sparkling as she motioned for her husband to put Marie on the bed. A small wiggling bundle lay in her arms, and Marie carefully crawled over to get a good look at the tiny person.
"She's pretty," the little girl stated. "Her eyes are gray like Papa's, and her hair is dark like his and mine!"
Laurette laughed. "That's right," she said, reaching over with her free hand and running her fingers through her eldest daughter's straight hair. "This is your little sister Christine, and you must always take care of her, no matter what, understand? Since you are her elder sister, you must be sure that you set a good example for her to follow." Marie nodded and went back to staring at the small baby.
"There's a good girl," her father replied, reaching over to wrap his three ladies in a gentle family hug.
A Year Later:
"Come on, Christine, you can do it!" Marie cried, her hands held out. Little Christine merely smiled at her older sister and gave a loud giggle as she began to stand up.
For the past several weeks, Gustave and Laurette had tried, without success, to get Christine to walk instead of crawl. However, it was only Marie who could somehow manage to persuade the tiny toddler to stand up on her own legs. The two parents proudly watched their girls as Christine stood up and began to test her right foot, tapping it up and down in an experimental manner.
Marie suddenly gave a small cooing sound, and Christine instantly looked at her. Wiggling her fingers at the smaller girl, Marie moved backwards, hoping to coax at least a step or two out of the baby. Innocent, trusting gray eyes focused on the older girl as a small foot moved forwards. Marie held her breath as Christine began to shift her weight forward, moving towards her goal. The entire family watched breathlessly as one step became two, and two became three. Finally, Christine collapsed in a fit of giggles in her older sister's lap, Marie wrapping her arms around her little sister and crowing compliments the whole time.
Gustave watched as Laurette began to cough into her handkerchief. The winter had not been good to her, and what had at first been dubbed a cold was now mercilessly wearing away at his lovely wife's health. They both knew that, if she had not improved by now, she likely never would. It broke his heart to watch his beloved sicken this way, but there was nothing the doctors could do for her. As they exchanged sad smiles, they both shared a bittersweet contentment in knowing that she had at least seen their precious daughters learn to walk in her presence. Reaching out, Gustave took her hand in his, knowing that this would be one of the last happy evenings he could spend with her as a family.
She would not live past the first of the New Year.
"Marie!" Christine crowed as she raced towards her older sister, laughing as she was caught up in a tremendous hug.
"Goodness, Chrissie, I was only at the market for a little while!" twelve-year-old girl laughingly replied, pulling a wisp of her straight brown hair out of her equally brown eyes.
Christine looked up at her with adoration, joy, and excitement. "Will you come and play with me?" she asked, hope flashing in her gray eyes. "Papa says he's too tired."
Ever since their mother had died, Marie had quickly stepped into the roll of both mother and older sister for Christine, doing everything she could by fulfilling the promise she had made her mother when Christine had been born. She make sure that they both ate, slept, and bathed, and kept quiet when their father needed to practice his violin. Recently, she had taken to doing their shopping, since their father was far too busy to do it himself.
"Of course I'll play with you!" Marie said, smiling as they moved towards the kitchen so that she could put away the food she had bought. "Why don't you go get your toys ready and I'll be in there in a moment?" Christine gave her a lovely smile before racing off, her brown curls bouncing as she skipped away towards the sitting room.
Marie sighed before turning back toward the basket she had carried home. It wasn't right to be envious of her sister, and she knew that, but the only trait they shared was the same pale skin. She so wanted curly hair like Christine's, and was tired of her straight hair that had absolutely nothing interesting about it, as far as she could see. And Christine had such lovely gray eyes, the complete opposite of Marie's dark brown ones. However, Marie loved her little sister too much to really envy her. Besides, there really wasn't anything that she liked more than to take care of Christine.
"Marie, petite, could you come here a moment?" her father's faint voice called.
"Coming, Papa!" She hurriedly put away the bread, butter, and bacon that she had purchased and raced out of the kitchen. On the way to her father's room, Marie poked her head into the sitting room, where Christine sat with two dolls in front of her. "Chrissie, Papa needs me for a moment. I'll return soon to play, all right?"
Christine looked up and gave a bright smile before turning back to her dolls. A slight smile tugging on her own lips, Marie quickly headed towards the back of the small home, towards her father's bedroom. She knocked before quietly slipping inside when he called for her to enter. Her papa sat on the bed, his eyes tired and solemn.
"Come, petite," he said, opening his arms to her. She obeyed and was quickly wrapped in a warm embrace. "You have worked so hard to take care of your sister and me, haven't you? Just as your Mama asked, before the Angels called her home." Marie nodded, and he sighed. "You have not even had much time to play with our dear little Christine, or even be a normal little girl, as I would like you to be. Therefore, I have summoned an old friend of mine to come and help take care of you for a little while."
Marie sharply turned her head towards him. "Who?" she asked, not liking the idea of a stranger coming into their house.
She'd heard from some little girls in the market that when lonely fathers invited 'old friends' who happened to be women to help with their motherless children, they usually meant to marry them later on. Marie would not let a stranger 'help' her with Christine, no matter what. This woman would not be allowed to lay one finger on her precious sister.
"She is a woman from France that I met long ago, when I first met your mother," he said, smiling at the obvious jealousy and anger on his eldest daughter's face. "Her name is Madame Giry, and she has a daughter about Christine's age named Meg. Her daughter will stay behind in France with a friend, but Madame Giry will be here to help you with the cooking and things for a while…"
Looking up into her father's tired gray eyes, Marie didn't understand why he suddenly looked so sad. "Papa, is everything alright?" she asked, raising a hand to caress his left cheek.
He smiled down at her. "I'm fine, petite," he whispered, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Our guest and helper should be arriving tomorrow, so you must help prepare the house for her arrival."
Marie sighed and went to give Christine the unhappy news of not being able to play together tonight.
Despite wanting to dislike the woman who was to invade her house, Marie couldn't help but like her the moment she stepped foot though the doors.
Madame Giry was a tall, slender woman who possessed a well-aging beauty on her serious face. In one hand she carried a carpetbag full of clothes, and in her other, she held a cane made of black wood and was adorned with an ivory handle. However, Marie instantly looked past the severe exterior and saw a good woman beneath it. Her eyes, though serious, held a sort of gentleness to them, and the corners of her mouth showed that it was no stranger to a smile. So, after opening the door, escorting and assisting in Mme. Giry settling into her room, Marie threw her arms around the woman's waist and gave her a tight hug.
The woman had been surprised, to say the least, but had let out a small chuckle as she returned the affectionate gesture. The two had then begun to talk about things over a cup of tea in the sitting room, watching as Christine played with her dolls and sang to them in her soft, off-key voice that was almost charming. Once the tea dishes were put away, Madame Giry had gone upstairs to check on their father as Marie stayed behind to play with Christine.
The four of them got along well together, though Christine was particularly thrilled to have her sister play with her more often, now that Madame had taken over the cooking, cleaning, and shopping. However, Marie noticed that her father spent more and more time in bed, his once-healthy face becoming as pale as new snow. It was then that she realized that she would lose her father the same way that she and Christine had lost their mother all those years ago. Still, the elder girl said nothing and did her best to keep Christine from discovering the unhappy truth about their beloved father.
But however hard one might try to hide something from a small child, it is impossible to do so for very long. Little children can be remarkably observant, and after Madame Giry had been with the Daae family for two weeks, it was clear that Christine knew that something was not right with her father's health. Since she knew her sister better than anyone, Marie saw the frightened look upon Christine's face after she'd visited their father at his sick bed and knew that she could no longer keep their father's condition a secret. Taking her little sister to their small nursery, Marie sat her down and began to explain something that Madame Giry had told her only a day or two before.
"Chrissie, there's something I need to tell you," the older girl said, quickly gaining the smaller girl's attention. "Papa is very sick, and soon he's going to be taken by the Angels to join Mama in Heaven."
Christine looked horrified. She hadn't known her mother, couldn't even remember the lovely woman who had loved her so dearly, but she remembered how sad her papa had been, every time he spoke about her. And now she was going to lose the only other member of the family that she had left.
"But who will take care of me?" the little seven-year-old asked, her eyes filling with tears.
Marie smiled and wrapped her arms around her sister. "I'll take care of you, Christine," she said, holding her close. "I promise."
Christine merely sniffed and hugged her back.
As Marie led Christine to see their fading Papa, she suddenly felt a huge burden being placed on her shoulders. When Mama had died, their father had always been there to provide love and comfort to the two girls. Now, with Papa soon to join their mother, there would only be Marie left to be sure that Christine had all of the love and happiness that she needed.
At first, Marie had thought that Madame Giry would help take care of them. However, she knew that the older woman had to largely divide her attention between Meg and the ballet students that she taught in Paris. Once their beloved Papa was dead, there would be no one to take care of the Daae girls specifically; they would merely have to be satisfied with what attention and love they could get from whenever Madame Giry could spare it, and from each other. Sighing, Marie did her best to focus on what her father was saying to Christine.
"Do not worry, petite," he whispered, his gray eyes soft as he looked at his youngest child. "Marie will take good care of you; she loves you so." He smiled as Christine gave a small sniff. "When I arrive in Heaven, I will send the Angel of Music to come and visit you, and to guide you though your tears."
Marie felt that was a bit unfair, since Papa was practically stating that her love and care would not be enough for her little sister. Still, it was most likely what Christine needed to hear, so she merely put her hands on Christine's shoulders and looked over the brown, curly hair mass in front of her to her father. After he had finished giving Christine a farewell kiss on the hand, his eyes turned towards Marie.
"My darling little lady," he said, his voice much weaker than before. "You know how I love you, and how proud I am that you have taken such good care of your sister." Marie nodded. "When I am gone, you must take even greater of her, because she looks to you for guidance more than any other." He looked deep into her deep brown eyes. "Promise me, petite."
"I promise, Papa," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears as her father gave her one last smile before closing his eyes forever.
Christine did not let go of her sister's hand once since the moment Gustave Daae had taken his final breath in front of the girls. During the entire preparation process and the voyage to Paris itself, Christine had latched on to Marie's side and refused to spend more than a few minutes out of her company. The little seven-year-old appeared to be terrified at what might happen, now that her Papa was no longer there. However, Marie dutifully sat next to her, crooning soothing words into her ear and squeezing her hand as the train rolled through the countryside.
Madame Antoinette Giry sat across from them, her eyes focused on Marie and the attention she was lavishing on the unusually quiet Christine. The ballet mistress of the Opera Populaire had been astonished to see a girl so young take care of a child who had to be at least five years her junior. In his urgent letter to her, Gustave had told of Marie taking on the roll of both mother and sister since his dear Laurette had died, but Antoinette hadn't believed it. True, Marie was older than both Meg and Christine, but she was still a girl-child of only twelve.
'And yet, when she first opened that door for me, the air about her was that of the oldest twelve-year-old girl I had ever seen,' she thought, watching the two girls play a small, hand-slapping game. But perhaps the two girls would fit in well at the Populaire. They might even be in the corps de ballet, and even if they weren't able to dance, Madame Giry felt confident that she would find a way to keep the two together and in the Opera House as long as she could.
As the train pulled into the station, Christine stopped playing and a terrified look settled on her face, her small, pale hand clutching at her sister's as she looked up into Marie's brown eyes. The older girl merely smiled and hugged her until Christine managed to calm down.
'Yes, they will fit in quite well if Marie and I have anything to say about it,' Madame Giry thought as they walked off the train and into the streets of Paris.
AN: Well, that was my first attempt at a Phantom story chapter! Please be kind and review, even if it's to let me know that I got something wrong or if you thought the chapter was choppy or something! Thanks!