Sing Once Again With Me

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this

Prologue

Paris, France 1921

The sky was clear, the sun was shining and the autumn weather fair as Countess Freya du Lac went to the dilapidated Opera de Camelot. She helped into her wheelchair by her nurse and accompanied by her oldest friends and family in all but blood, to the auction that was taking place inside the opera house. The opera house had burnt down several years ago and now the contents were being sold before the opera house would be refurbished and new theatre items brought to the opera house.

Entering the opera house brought back many memories for the countess. She'd never been a singer or a stagehand there, but she'd found her soul mate at the opera house and several events she would never forget had taken place there when she'd been a young girl, of just sixteen years, innocent, carefree and far more beautiful. She'd come to the auction hoping for some small trinket of younger days to bring back to her husband.

"Place me over there. I want a good view of the items as they're being sold," said Freya, pointing to a small area.

"Of course, Freya," said Arthur.

"My word, is that really Morgause?" asked Gwen, looking surprised and happy.

An elderly veiled lady dressed in black was standing in the corner as the auction took place. She was older, but looked no less the same as she had when they'd first known her many decades ago.

"Yes. No doubt she's here for the same reason we are," said Freya, softly. Except unlike me, she's here for her sister. I wonder if her sister's even still alive? She shared a polite nod with the old woman when their eyes met and then the auction caught their attention.

"Lot number six hundred and sixty-five, ladies and gentleman," said the auctioneer. "A papier-mâché musical box in the shape of a dragon and attached is the figure of a dragon playing the cymbals. This item was discovered in the vaults of the theatre, and is still in working order, ladies and gentleman. It's shown here by my associate."

The man holding the music box played it and a familiar tune hit their ears.

Freya's heart leapt as her eyes fell upon the music box. It can't be the same one, can it? But indeed it was, the same music box her beloved husband had spoken of. She knew then and there that the music box was exactly what she was looking for.

"May I commence the bidding at fifteen francs?"

Morgause raised her hand. Naturally she wanted the music box. It was only to be expected, after all, considering the past.

"Fifteen. Thank you, Madame."

When Freya's hand went unnoticed, she shot a pleading look at Arthur, who then raised his hand while Gwen comfortingly squeezed Freya's.

"Twenty from you, Countess, thank you."

Morgause raised her hand, raising her bid.

"Madame Le Fey, twenty-five. Twenty-five, I'm bid. Do I hear thirty?"

Again Arthur raised his hand for Freya.

"Thirty! And thirty-five?" asked the auctioneer. But when Morgause's face softened at the sight of Freya's pleading eyes, she shook her head and quit trying to buy the music box.

"Selling for thirty francs. Going once…going twice…sold!" He pounded his gavel once. "Sold for thirty francs to the Countess du Lac. Thank you, Madame."

Freya smiled in relief as the music box was carefully placed her hands and she rested it on her lap. With tears in her eyes, she gently ran her fingers over the beautiful music box and the dragon that rest on top of it. It was a small black box lined with gold and painted with moons and stars. Rested on a deep blue pillow was a masterfully crafted golden dragon with little brass cymbals.

"Freya, dear, are you alright?" asked Gwen.

"Yes, I'm quite alright," said Freya, softly. She kept her eyes on the box. A collector's piece indeed! Every detail was exactly as he'd said. But would it still play when all of them were dead? Freya looked up when the auctioneer called their attention.

"Lot number six hundred and sixty-six, ladies and gentleman," he said. "A chandelier in pieces. Now, some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera, a mystery never fully explained. We're told, ladies and gentleman, that this is the very chandelier that figures in the famous disaster. Our workmen have repaired it and wired parts of it for the new electric light. Perhaps we can frighten away the ghosts of so many years ago with a little illumination. Gentleman?"

If only that were possible, thought Freya, as she watched the chandelier be lit up and hoisted into the air for the first time in over fifty years. As it went up, she recalled the past. The opera seemed to change around her. It was no longer broken and dead, but new looking and magnificent. Freya felt the years lift from her and she was whisked away to a time long ago…