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Christmas had always been a happy time for Christine Daaé. Even during the years when it was just her and her father and times were tight, he would find a way to make it special for her, usually managing to obtain a small trinket or a sweet for her, and always telling her the story of the Savior's birth. Her favorite part was the way he described the choir of angels heralding the Christ Child's birth with their heavenly song.
After they came to live with Professor and Madame Valérius, their Christmases changed, but Christine still remembered each one fondly. However, this year there was a feeling of strain over the household. Not only were they missing the professor, who had gone on to his heavenly reward, but her father's health, poor for several years, had recently taken a sharp decline.
His cough had worsened to an alarming degree, and most days he could barely rise from his bed at all. The doctor had been to see him several times, but there was nothing further to be done.
He had sorrowfully informed them that he didn't expect her father to make it until the new year, and Christine knew in her heart that the doctor was right. She didn't know how she was going to cope with his loss - all she knew was that her life would never be the same again.
*****
It wasn't until several years had passed that Christine was able to find joy in the Christmas season once more, but on the night of her simple celebration with Mamma Valérius, she found herself feeling somewhat melancholy.
"You've been quiet tonight, my dear. You've seemed so much happier lately, I had hoped you'd enjoy yourself more this evening."
Christine started guiltily at the older woman's words. She had hoped that she was hiding her distraction, but she clearly wasn't.
"Oh, I have been happier recently, and this is a lovely evening, truly. It's just that...I suppose I miss the Angel. I know it's silly, because angels don't concern themselves with earthly things like we do, but I hate the thought of him being alone on Christmas."
"I understand. I know he's very special to you, darling." Mamma rose from her chair and crossed the room to give Christine a kiss on the cheek before departing the room for the kitchen.
Alone in the room, knowing that Mamma's hearing wasn't what it once was, Christine continued speaking softly, needing to let the words that were in her heart out, even if there was no one to hear them.
"He is very special to me. In fact, there are days I wish he wasn't an angel. Because if he was a real man, maybe he could be here tonight, and we could be together."
Outside on the balcony of their tiny apartment, the 'angel' in question closed his eyes in grief at Christine's poignant words. There was nothing he had ever wanted more in his long, miserable life than to be inside with the girl he already loved more than he could have ever thought possible, celebrating Christmas with her and her beloved foster mother, but of course that was a dream that could never happen.
He had started on this course when he became the Voice to her, and when he confirmed her suspicion that he was the Angel of Music, his fate had been sealed. He could never reveal himself to her after all the lies he had told.
But really, what did it matter? Even if he had approached her as a man, it wasn't as if she would have welcomed him into her life. A pure creature like her could never want a loathsome specimen like himself, and that was how it should be.
He would have to resign himself to a lifetime of being her angel. It was either that, or not have Christine in his life at all - and that option was simply unthinkable.
*****
One year later, Christine celebrated the holiday season with Raoul at his family's country home, still trying to come to terms with all the changes in her life that had occurred over the past year. Her silly wish that she would discover that her angel was really a man had come true, but it certainly hadn't played out in reality at all the way she had dreamed it would. And, her dear mamma had passed on to her heavenly reward, joining Christine's father and the professor, leaving her with no one who truly cared for her, except of course for Raoul.
However, it was safe to say that no matter how highly he regarded her, the same could not be said of his family. His older brother Philippe had made no secret of the fact that he didn't welcome her presence in the slightest, and was only tolerating her being there for Raoul's sake. His sisters, while much more polite, still kept a distance from her, no doubt unsure what to make of her presence with their family during the holidays.
While she would never admit it, Christine was unable to enjoy the festivities for another reason: despite everything he had done to her, she still found her thoughts inexorably drifting back to the man whose name she now knew was Erik. She wondered if he was all right, or even in fact still alive - there had been no sign of him at the opera house for nearly six months now. Life would be so much simpler if she could simply hate him as he deserved, but so far she had found she could not.
Suddenly, the door to the library where she had escaped to have some time to herself was swept open, interrupting her reverie. Entering the room with his typical energy, Christine saw a smile creep across Raoul's face when his eyes landed on her, and despite her melancholy, she was cheered a bit. Whatever else, there was no doubt that this valiant man truly cared for her - possibly more than she deserved, given her thoughts from a few moments ago.
"There you are, Lotte! I thought you had run off and deserted me," he said teasingly, striding over to the armchair she was curled up in.
Giggling a little, Christine smiled up at him. "Of course not, Raoul. I just needed some time to myself. I'm not used to so much family activity, you know."
"Actually, I'm glad I found you alone. I have something I've been meaning to ask you," he replied, moving to the chair that sat next to hers. "Christine, you know I love you so very much, and would do anything in my power to keep you safe and happy. Will you marry me?"
Christine felt the smile fade from her face as she realized he was serious. It was true that marriage to Raoul would be a good thing for her in many ways, but she feared that he was rushing into this headlong, not having thought through the consequences of what he was proposing.
"Raoul...I don't know," she said slowly, watching the confident smile on his face dim slightly. "I love you, too, but your brother will never give his approval for this. Surely you realize that."
Clearly taking her words to mean that her only objection was his family's certain reaction, Raoul quickly regained his normal full confidence. "Don't you worry about Philippe, Lotte. I know he has reservations, but he'll come around to our marriage once he sees how happy you make me. He only wants the best for me, and in time he'll certainly see that a life with you is exactly that."
Ignoring the faint alarm in the back of her head, Christine conceded, not sure what other options she had and too weary at the moment to think them through even if she knew. "Very well then, Raoul, I will marry you."
After he sprang from his chair, drawing her to her feet to kiss and embrace her tenderly, Christine drew back. "But, you must promise me that we won't tell anyone just yet."
Raoul's face fell. "Why, Christine? Why would we need to keep this a secret? I wish for everyone to know how happy we are, and how proud I am that you'll be my wife."
"Surely you know why, Raoul."
After a moment, he took her meaning, and Christine could feel him stiffen as the realization hit him. "Because of him? Christine, he is gone! We haven't seen or heard from him in half a year - and even if he did return he can't come between us. I won't let him."
Inwardly cringing at the way Raoul's words seemed to tempt fate, Christine persisted. "That is my condition, Raoul. Of course we will tell everyone eventually, but not yet."
She could tell he didn't like it, but a moment later he nodded curtly in agreement. "Then I will agree to your condition, Christine. But that monster had best hope he never crosses paths with me again, or I shall take my revenge for the hurt and suffering he has caused you."
Allowing herself to be caught up in Raoul's embrace again, Christine closed her eyes and told herself that what he was assuming was in fact the truth: her only reason for hesitating was fear of Erik and what he might do when he found out that she planned to marry Raoul. If she felt a longing she couldn't explain toward her former tutor, no doubt it was only caused by stress and confusion, and would soon fade altogether.
At that very same time, underneath the opera house, the man who occupied Christine's thoughts was thinking of nothing but her, furiously working to finish his Don Juan Triumphant at long last. If he continued working at this breakneck pace, he would have it completed in time to deliver to the incompetent fools who thought they managed this place during the New Year's Ball. Finally, after months of waiting, he would see Christine again, and his plan would be put into motion.
Surely, once Christine heard this music he had written and they had sung it together on the stage of the opera, she would realize the incontrovertible truth that they were destined to be together, and stop trying to flee from him.
This plan would work. It had to - there was no other option.
*****
Christine looked up and smiled as her husband of less than a year entered their small sitting room, joining her on the settee. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, Raoul murmured, "Merry Christmas, darling."
"Merry Christmas," she returned, leaning into him as he placed a strong arm around her. She knew the two of them were still recovering from the events of that night beneath the opera house, but they seemed to be doing better recently, and Christine had hope for their future.
While Philippe had not accepted their marriage in the way that Raoul had believed he would, he hadn't turned them away from the de Chagny family entirely, providing them with a modest but comfortable house, and she and Raoul were turning it into a home, together. They had each other, and their love, and Christine found that she was mostly content in their new life. If she sometimes found herself thinking of Erik, she reassured herself that it was only because she had no idea what had become of him. Despite everything, the man had helped her find her voice once again, and she found she couldn't discount that entirely. That was all it was, the uncertainty.
However, tonight she had something else to occupy her thoughts. "I have something to tell you, Raoul."
He pulled away from her slightly, looking down at her questioningly. Smiling, she took his hand and laid it against her stomach, waiting until recognition dawned on his face.
"Truly?" he whispered, seeming nearly overcome with emotion. When she nodded, Raoul gingerly wrapped his arms around her, seeming almost afraid to even touch her. "Oh, Lotte, I love you so much. Our future only gets brighter and brighter the more time I spend with you."
Closing her eyes at his sweet words, Christine returned his embrace. Years of loss had made her naturally less optimistic at most times than Raoul was, but in that moment she wanted nothing more than for his words to prove true.
*****
Erik settled himself into his chair in front of the fireplace, ready to enjoy his nightly glass of port as he had done nearly every evening since he had moved into this comfortable house in a quiet part of Paris. It was hard to believe, but nearly two years had passed since he had purchased the home, needing a refuge after the debacle that had occurred beneath the opera.
And, as they also did every night, his thoughts turned to Christine. He supposed she was happy living her life with her boy, hopefully enjoying the Christmas season that meant nothing to him but that he knew had once been very important to her. Hopefully the vicomte would help her find that joy again, yet another thing he could do for her that Erik hadn't been able to.
As more time went by since that fateful night, Erik had come to understand just how much his control over himself had slipped when it came to her, and although it had been touch and go at first, he felt he had regained enough of that control to be sure that he would be able to leave her alone permanently.
That didn't mean he wouldn't still think of her every night for the rest of his life, however.
*****
"Mama, Father is coughing again."
At her son's words, Christine tried to school her face into a neutral expression before she turned to face him, not for the first time thinking how unfair this all was, especially to her children. At three years old, Gustave should be happily enjoying the Christmas season, not having to learn about the harsh realities of life before he was even old enough to be able to understand them.
And while Christine was trying to hold on to some hope, she had been through this situation enough that she knew, in some part of her mind that she was trying not to acknowledge, that her month-old daughter would most likely have no memory of her father.
Raoul had been struck by a mysterious illness, and over the last months he had deteriorated to the point that he could barely rise from their bed for more than an hour or two before he had to lay back down. And in that time the mild cough he had developed at the beginning of all this had become worse and worse, to the point that Christine heard the past echoes of her father's struggles to breathe in her husband's current condition. Although Raoul was nowhere near as bad as her father had been at the end, Christine feared it was only a matter of time until he was.
And to make matters worse, while her husband did his best to comfort her and remain positive, Christine knew that Raoul knew where this situation was heading as well, even though they both tried to encourage one another. There was also the added concern that Philippe was no more accepting of their marriage now than he had ever been, and Christine wasn't sure how he would react if something did happen to Raoul. She wanted to hope that he wouldn't turn his brother's children out with nothing, but she wasn't sure - he had never shown the slightest interest in the children, seeming only to ever have any concern to spare for Raoul.
As she gave her son a false reassurance and watched him run off to play before going to check on Raoul, Christine quickly wiped away the tear that had escaped her eye, indulging in one brief moment of self-pity. Why was she destined to lose everyone who had ever loved her? Would she ever escape from this shadow of death that seemed to follow her everywhere she went?
*****
In just another year, Christine found her world fundamentally changed once again. With another Christmas approaching, she was leaving the small home she had shared with Raoul, with only her two children and a trunk of their personal belongings. Right up until the end, Raoul had insisted that his brother would do the noble thing and continue to provide for Christine and his niece and nephew, but Philippe had not been worthy of his brother's faith in him, instead choosing to have them evicted from their home.
However, even Raoul must have known there was a chance this would happen, because he had left her with one other alternative, and it was this option she was following now, taking a hired carriage with what was nearly the last of the money she had to an address Raoul had given her about a month before he died.
Looking even more pale and worried than usual, he had handed her an envelope with a piece of paper with an unfamiliar address written on it. When she looked at him questioningly, he had explained reluctantly, "If for some reason you need help in the future, if you're truly in need, I want you to have this address."
For a moment Christine had stared blankly at the paper, until the truth dawned on her. She nearly gave him reassurances that they would both know to be false, but stopped herself. For Raoul to be this desperate, she knew he must be more worried than he let on. For his sake, she merely nodded solemnly, before tucking the paper away in a secure location, hoping things never became dire enough for her to have to use it.
But, like so many others, that hope hadn't been realized, and now the hired carriage was pulling to a stop in front of a quietly elegant house, and the driver was carrying her trunk up to the front step for her before she paid him and he departed. Drawing a deep breath, she looked down at Gustave and Claire standing next to her, Gustave holding his sister's hand protectively, before knocking on the door with a decisiveness she assuredly didn't feel.
When there was no answer, even though she had seen a light through one of the windows around the side of the house when the carriage had arrived, Christine felt desperation begin to overtake her. Kneeling down, she brushed a hand over Gustave's round cheek. It wasn't fair that her little boy was having to deal with all of this at only four years old, she thought sadly. "Stay here with your sister. I'm just going to step around the corner over there - I'll be right back."
When Gustave nodded, Christine quickly swept around the corner to the window she had seen the light shining in earlier. Although she couldn't see into the room from the ground, fortunately she found she could just reach high enough to bang her fist against it - which she did, as she was well and truly out of any other options.
Erik had ignored the knocking at his front door, assuming whoever it was had the wrong house and would eventually give up and leave, but when he heard a banging against the window of the room he was currently reading in, he felt anger spike. If an intruder thought to bother him, they had picked the wrong residence, he reflected as he departed the room, reflexively checking for the Punjab lasso that was always with him, even now.
Opening his front door, he planned to silently slip around the side of the house and come up on this unwise intruder from behind, but the sight that met his eyes brought him to a dead stop instead. Staring in surprise at the two children standing at the bottom of his front step, the older one staring up at him in fear, Erik received even more of a shock a moment later as a small woman came barreling around the corner of his home - a woman he recognized almost immediately, even after all this time.
"Christine?" he asked thinly. Was he hallucinating?
When she raised her drawn face to his, however, he thought that possibility less likely. Whenever he dreamed of her, he pictured her as happy and serene, but the Christine standing before him looked like she was only holding herself together by the slightest thread.
"Angel, please, we need help. I have nowhere else to turn."
At her simple statement, Erik roused himself, still unable to believe this was happening. Stepping back, he opened the door behind himself, gesturing for her to lead the children inside before picking up her trunk and following them.
*****
As Gustave and Claire tiredly looked over the presents that Erik had made possible for them to receive, Christine smiled, grateful for the change in all of their fortunes over this past year. Things could have turned out very differently had he turned them away, but fortunately he had welcomed the three of them into his home.
She still hated the fact that her children had to grow up without their father, however. Christine did her best to keep Raoul's memory alive for them, something that was easier with Gustave since he actually remembered his father, unlike Claire. Shaking herself from her reverie, she rose to collect them and put them to bed, despite Gustave's protests that he wasn't tired.
The excitement of the day had gotten to them, though, and both of them were asleep within minutes of her tucking them into their beds. After she was sure they were both settled, Christine slipped back into the sitting room, finding Erik waiting for her on the settee.
When he wordlessly opened his arms to her, she went to him without a second thought, snuggling against him and returning his gentle kiss. While she still didn't know exactly what to make of it, their relationship had changed over the last few months, with them frequently exchanging kisses over these last weeks, although things hadn't gone any further physically than that.
Pulling back, Christine could see the protest in his eyes, but Erik said nothing, respectfully dropping his arms from her. Sometimes she could barely believe he was the same man from those days underneath the opera house - while he was still unpredictable, he seemed to have much greater control over himself now, and that was a large factor in how comfortable she had grown with him.
Retrieving a small package that she had nestled in the greenery on the mantel, Christine returned to the settee, smiling shyly as she held it out to him - a smile that faded a bit when he merely stared at the gift instead of reaching for it. Did Erik not want a present from her?
"It's for you," she said with forced cheer, hoping she hadn't made a fool of herself, but Erik's gaze shot to hers at her words.
"For me?" he whispered, and suddenly Christine realized that he was probably overwhelmed by the moment. It was doubtful that he would have received many gifts in his life - if any.
When Erik opened his present and merely gazed at it for a long moment, Christine felt her own confidence fade. Did he think the watch she had gotten him was a foolish gift? It wasn't as though Erik didn't already have several. Starting to feel embarrassed, she apologized, "I'm sorry, it isn't much. And of course, I had to use your money to pay for it," she explained unnecessarily, but when Erik looked up at her, she could see the emotion burning in his eyes.
"Thank you, Christine. I'll treasure it always," he said softly, before seeming to gather himself a bit. "And I have something for you," he added, reaching for a box that he had apparently tucked under the settee while she was putting the children to bed.
Delighted, she opened the gift, exclaiming over the beautiful brush and comb set he had purchased for her, as well as the package of sweets he had tucked into the box.
"Erik," she giggled, "I thought you didn't want me to have too much sugar."
"Well, it's true that we need to keep that perfect voice of yours in the best shape possible, but a few sweets now and then won't hurt, I don't think."
Smiling, she sat the box carefully on the floor at her feet. "I won't overdo it, I promise. You know I want to be at my best for our next lesson."
His lips curved slightly in return under the mask. "In all seriousness Christine, your voice is wonderful. I'm just happy you agreed to let me give you lessons again."
"I'm glad, too, Erik,' she replied before they lapsed into silence for a time, both staring into the fireplace, lost in their thoughts, until Erik spoke again.
"However, I have been thinking about the future. You've been here for just over a year now, you know."
Christine tried to fight back the surge of panic she felt at his words. Was Erik about to ask them to leave? She had thought he seemed so happy to have them in his home that she hadn't concerned herself very much with thinking of long-term plans, instead enjoying reconnecting with her old teacher and having a safe haven for herself and her children.
"I know," she said softly, not sure what else to say, but Erik wasn't finished.
"Well, I was thinking - and this is just a suggestion - that maybe we should...get married." Apparently mistaking her shocked gasp at his words as a sign of distress, he continued somewhat despondently, "It's just, you know I care for the children, and you...and I thought it might be a good idea," he trailed off, sounding hopeless.
"I suppose it does make sense, but I don't want to marry you because it's practical, Erik."
His shoulders fell at her words. "No, of course not. I'm sorry, Christine, I shouldn't have said anything. Why don't we pretend this never happened?" he concluded, sounding thoroughly miserable.
"No."
Confused, he looked at her pleadingly, and she reached out and grasped his hands, hearing the soft exhale he gave at her touch.
"Erik, I didn't say I wouldn't marry you," she said, feeling his hands tighten around hers reflexively at her words. "But you should know, before I say yes, that I'm not agreeing to your proposal only because it's practical - although of course it is."
Looking into his eyes, wanting him to see the truth in hers, Christine continued, "It might make sense for us to get married, but I can't agree without letting you know why I want to marry you, and that's because I love you, Erik. In some ways, I always have."
Seeing his yellow eyes glinting in the firelight, Christine reached up and slowly untied his mask, giving him ample time to pull away before she removed it if he chose to, but he didn't. Leaning up, she gave him a kiss on his sunken cheek before pulling back to look him in the eye once again.
"So, yes, I'll marry you, if you're all right with knowing that I love you, that it's not just an arrangement to me."
Erik returned her gaze wordlessly for a long moment, before suddenly wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him. Instinctively, Christine raised her face to his, and their lips met in a tender, passionate kiss that told her everything she needed to know about Erik's feelings for her.
*****
As Christine watched her children in the aftermath of their Christmas celebration, she felt tears of happiness forming in her eyes, as her gaze drifted over Claire where she had fallen asleep in Erik's lap, still clutching the doll she had received that day, before moving to her sons. At seven years old, Gustave considered himself quite grown up lately, seeming to think he had to impart all of his knowledge to his baby brother. He was currently showing Charles the wooden horses he had received for a gift, although she doubted Charles was getting very much out of the interaction.
"Mama, I think he's asleep," Gustave said a moment later, confirming her suspicion. Hiding her smile, Christine rose from her chair and moved to pick Charles up from the blanket he had been lying on on the floor.
"I think it's time for all of you to be in bed," she said, ignoring Gustave's half-hearted protests before he followed her from the room as Erik trailed behind him carrying Claire.
Once they had tucked the two younger children in, neither of them waking from their sleep, she and Erik settled Gustave in bed, before returning to the sitting room.
Once they were curled up together on the settee, Erik reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. "Erik!" she said in mock admonishment. "We already exchanged gifts."
"Well, I thought one more wouldn't hurt," he said as Christine opened the box to reveal a necklace with a beautiful diamond pendant.
"Erik!" she said again. "This is too extravagant! I love it, though."
"I wanted to try to give you something to show you how much you mean to me, although of course there's nothing I could give you that could truly impart how happy you've made me these last three years."
Feeling tears prick at her eyes once more at Erik's sweet words, Christine embraced him tightly before leaning up to kiss him. After a few minutes, Erik rose from the sofa suddenly, taking her hand and leading her to their bedroom.
As the door closed behind them and Christine moved into her husband's arms once again, she couldn't help but reflect on how grateful she was that fate had brought them to this moment, in spite of all the odds against them.
So much of her life had been defined by loss - the mother she barely remembered, her father, the professor and Mother Valérius, and of course Raoul - that she knew it had changed her indelibly. But, now, with Erik's arms around her and her children sleeping safely in their home, Christine had finally found the ability to accept the past for what it was, and to look forward to the future she hoped their family could have.
She and Erik had found a way to build a life with each other, and while Christine certainly knew that the world came with no guarantees, she felt in her heart that the five of them would be celebrating many more Christmases together.