Chapter Text
The wind was the strongest it had been all winter. The small town of Perros Guriec was accustomed to it at this point, the strong winds accompanied by the cold and darkness. It was the usual; it had been like that for centuries.
"Everyone, get inside!" The owner of a tavern by the sea, Mr. Daroga shouted. Mr. Daroga was one of the many gods that helped the people here on earth. He guided as well as watched many of the wanderers who came into Perros temporarily and stayed over the years. It was a small town, small but one that many arrived to and planned on staying until they got back on their feet. Many never did and would stay there for most of their lives.
One of the many wanderers was whom many described as touched by the gods. Raoul de Chagny was a poor boy, the son of a muse. He had arrived at Perros 15 years ago with his older brother Philippe after their mother had died. The plan was to stay there until Lady Melek, Goddess of spring, arrived so she would bless them. That spring turned into two, and as they waited for Lady Melek to arrive for the third year, the cold had reached Philippe. He passed away, leaving Raoul by himself.
Until Mr. Daroga took him in.
"Raoul! Get inside! You'll catch your death!" Raoul was no longer a kid. He was now a young man, 20 years of age, yet he was always out wandering on his own, and someone always had to fetch him. "Sorry, Sir! I was writing a song."
"A song, eh?" He said, raising an eyebrow, leading him closer to the fireplace, crowded by many of the wanderers that had run in minutes prior. Raoul was always writing songs and playing them on his violin, it was something that had been with him for a long time. His violin was the only thing that he had of Apollo, his father. It was a gift given before he had gone away.
"I'm not sure why, but something strange happened." He was quiet, staring at Daroga before looking back at his violin and all the folded and crumbled papers on his lap and pockets, presumably his music.
Mr. Daroga tilted his head and sat beside him, observing how he held his bow. He always carried it with him, like it was life or death. Raoul knew even as a young boy that he had a gift, he played the violin the way no one else could. He played for the people and the wind. Perhaps one of these days, one of the many wanderers who wandered into the tavern would be a famous performer who would hear Raoul and take him with them, and that would be the last they would ever see of him before becoming a star.
"It's cold, sir, and I was playing, maybe hoping it would warm me up. And I noticed the dull carnations and green bushes beside me were no more. They were bright and full of life." Raoul spoke, looking up at the fire before finally looking at him.
"What?" Mr. Daroga asked. He had not heard of that happening. Not in years. "Show me."
Raoul and Mr. Daroga walked in silence outside, being hit by the cold and harsh wind. They walked along the railroad track that had one use only, to transport Lady Melek. Every year, she stayed for six months to bless the wanderers, and of course, being the Goddess of spring, she would bring back the earth's warmth. But she would always return underground to the underworld. Every time she left, the warmth and safety would soon follow her and be replaced by cold winds, harsh waves, and sickness. It was the usual and to be expected, but it seemed like it was getting worse year by year.
Raoul pointed to a bush, and as Mr. Daroga reached even closer, he stopped dead in his tracks, seeing the out-of-place bright red orchids on the windiest day of winter. He walked closer, examining them. They seemed fresh. Like it just bloomed on a warm spring day.
"And you were singing when this happened?" He asked, looking up at Raoul, who stood there silently. He nodded and grabbed the bow of his violin. "Would you like me to show you, sir?" Mr. Daroga nodded, and he observed as his hands played the violin. Unfortunately, with every gust of wind came frustration. Everything sounded wrong. His hands struggle to keep the instrument on his hands, and frustration kept coming.
"We can try again another day. Come on, kid." Mr. Daroga stood up and wiped his hands on his long dark robe and brushed off any dirt that had landed on the feathers on his shoes. But just then, he heard a long beautiful note, a note coming from his violin and as Mr. Daroga turned around, Raoul stared at him with wide eyes as a flower around him came back to life. Their color and stature came back. They were now tall, proud and vibrant.
"Raoul," He stood there as the wind carried on in its vital force. Raoul said nothing. Just looking at Mr. Daroga. He did not move, almost as if he was waiting for an answer. "I haven't seen this. Not in a while." Mr
Daroga finally spoke. "I can barely recall the last time someone could bring back flowers, much less with music…Take a few dead flowers with you. I'll explain it to you back home. Come along, we don't want you catching a cold."
Raoul followed Daroga as he walked in front of him back to their tavern. The tavern was a large structure by the sea and by the railroad tracks. You would see the bar and tables on the right when you walked in. At the end of the wall were more tables, a bookshelf, and a fireplace, and the stairs to the upstairs area stood next to it, with a small balcony that overlooked the tavern. That is where the bed hall, as many called it, stood. It was a big and long, hall-like room that had countless bunk beds that all the wanderers slept in, and to the left was Mr. Daroga's office and room.
The wanderers all lived and shared their home there and called each other family, yet Raoul specifically saw Mr. Daroga as his father.
As they entered, the wanderers were silent. A few of them were looking off to the booth by the window, while the others were whispering amongst themselves. One of the many wanderers who helped run the bar was looking eagerly at Mr. Daroga.
Mr. Daroga signaled to Raoul to come with him to see what he wanted, and they both bowed, a typical practice that Mr. Daroga had told Raoul always to do, to show respect to others.
"Sir," He bowed before taking a small sip of his drink. "We have a new one. She came in while you were gone." He spoke, pointing off to the booth. "A new one? You mean…" Mister Daroga trailed off as he looked over. Raoul followed his gaze and noticed a girl he did not recognize was sitting by the fire, wearing nothing but summer clothes. She was the first wanderer this winter.
Raoul observed the girl in the booth. She was gorgeous. Almost like her beauty was a gift from the gods. She had long brown curly hair, and she wore a long skirt with what he noticed was a dirty shirt under a thin vest. He could see she wore dangly earrings, lots of bracelets, and necklaces that all must jingle when she walked. She must have been wandering on her own for a while.
"I'm going to go greet her." Mr. Daroga stated. Raoul did not react, simply keeping his eyes on the girl. He was entranced. "You want to talk to her?" Mr. Daroga asked in a chuckle. Raoul did not move a muscle. His eyes were still stuck on her, and his face only reddened. "More than anything."
"Well then," He gave him a gentle push in the direction of the girl. "Go on. I'll be watching from afar." He finally snapped out of his trance, and as he turned around, Mr. Daroga smiled at him, something he rarely seemed to expressed.
He took a deep breath and began making his way over to the girl, all while walking through the wanderers.
"Raoul!"
"Hey, Raoul, have a drink!"
"Come sit with us!"
He ignored all the yells and calls for him as he kept walking straight. His eyes were set on one thing only; her. She had her eyes down, holding a mug and reading a book, all while a flaming candle danced alongside her. She was even more stunning up close.
"You are beautiful." He spoke.
The girl looked up, a look of surprise on her face before her eyes met Raoul's. Her face softened, and he could see her face glow a slight red. "Who are you?" She laughed.
"Just someone who admires your radiance. I'm Raoul,"
"Are you the type to say this to everyone, lover boy?" She spoke with a grin, setting her book down and resting her face on her hand.
Raoul could feel his face redden. She's got the wrong idea! "No! I'm not like that. I just think you are beautiful, and I thought I should be the first here to tell you!"
It's like the girl could see the panic on his face and she smiled. "It's all right, I was teasing you. I'm Christine."
"Oh, Christine, your beauty is one I have just now seen." He sighed, looking at her. Christine laughed, covering her mouth with her book. "We have a poet on our hands?"
"Oh, I’m also a fiddler!"
Christine finally shut her book in excitement. "A fiddler? You are a musician!" She gasped, leaning in close. Raoul smiled and nodded. He had been a fiddler since he was a young boy, and few spoke of their excitement to hear the young boy play. But to his surprise, Christine seemed genuinely excited over the fact that he is a musician. "You could say that. I don't play for many people. Just myself, the wind and the trees." Raoul stated, placing his violin on the table, and allowing Christine to take a look at it; something he hardly allowed anyone to do so. He watched as Christine admired the smooth wood and the carving of his name on the side.
"I'm a musician too. I sing, specifically Opera." Opera. Before his brother had passed, he and Philippe would visit any opera house for entertainment and warmth while they traveled the earth, hoping that they would soon be able to find a home. Since then, Raoul had grown quite a liking of opera as a genre.
"I'm sure you are a wonderful singer." He said, grabbing back his violin, and making sure no damage was done to it. "Well you can ask your friends over there," Christine pointed to the side, and Raoul turned and saw all the wanderers staring at him and Christine. When they noticed Raoul was looking at them, they all turned back to their conversations. "When I told them I'm an opera singer they appeared confused, maybe a few were holding back laughter." She shrugged.
Raoul looked back at the wanderers who were once again looking back at him. "They were rude to you!? I'm sorry! I apologize on their behalf. You do not deserve that." He said, reaching out for her hand.
She smiled and looked down briefly before looking back up at him. "You're very kind, Raoul. I don't mean any harm to them, not sure why they are so distant…" She muttered.
"I apologize again. They can be very distant regarding new people coming in. My best guess is many of us see each other as family. And when someone else randomly walks in… it's like, letting a stranger in your home." He shrugged, looking out the window at the now pouring rain.
"I'm not sure how long I'll be here for. Perhaps a few weeks. Just until the storm calms down and I can continue on my journey." Christine said, joining Raoul and looking out the window. Her journey. Raoul always heard people, especially the wanderers say they were on their journey, but he never understood what that exactly meant, their journey to where?
"Stay as long as you wish to. But also, a lot of us have the same thought process as you, and a lot of us end up staying for the long run." Raoul said, looking off to the wanderers who now, only a select few were listening in. They were his family, some people have been here since Raoul's first winter 15 years ago, and some people joined last winter. Many of them had come and gone, many occasionally sent a letter and many were never seen or heard from again after they departed. It always took a while to warm up to each other, but in the end, they all considered themselves family.
"But I'm glad you are here, no matter what your decision is, to stay or go. I haven't interacted with someone new in a while." Raoul smiled, his face warm with affection for Christine as she sat in front of him, laughing and thanking him.
"Would you… like for me to give you a tour when the storm clears out, Christine? Around the village and…." He trailed off as he saw her soft smile turn into a grin. "Are you asking to spend time with me?"
Raoul gulped as Christine leaned in close. He did not know what to say but nodded.
"I feel honored. Of course." She said, Her smile was bright and oh-so-pretty. "I'm sorry, I don't have a welcome gift for you. We usually give those out, but with you being the first new person to walk in this late into the winter, many assumed we would have no more new people and took it for themselves."
Christine laughed and began drawing circles with her thumb on Raoul's hands. "Gifts aren't necessary!"
Raoul shook his head. "But someone as stunning as you deserve a gift. Someone like you deserves the world."
Christine was silent and stared at the inside of the mug she had with her. "Why me?" She said, almost with a sad smile.
"You are someone I have always known."
The look on Christine's face could only be described as stunned.. Her hold on Raoul's hand was only tightened. "I feel that too. You have that smile and kindness of someone I have spent years with. But I couldn't have, could I?"
That's it. He had to give her something. He could dig up some old gifts from past travelers in the bedroom hall. But as his thoughts continued racing with millions of random gifts around the tavern he could gift her, his hand trailed down to his violin. Perhaps… there was a gift he could give her.
"Let me show you something…." He set down a few dead flowers he had collected with Mr. Daroga in between them. They were dark and had died off when winter first started.
He grabbed the bow and began warming up with a few strokes. It had to be a good gift, a good song. But what song could he play? He looked at her. Christine was beautiful. He had the feeling that they had known each other forever. Like she was someone he had known all along. As he continued looking, it felt like his hands had a mind of their own as he began playing something that came to mind as he stared at her. He began to hum, and although he had no lyrics for the song at the moment, he started to sing.
"La la la la la la la…"
As he kept playing, his eyes closed, almost like he was in a trance once more. The room had gone silent, and the only sounds came from the echoes of his voice and violin.
"La la la la la la la…"
When he opened his eyes, everyone stared in astonishment, and he noticed that the flowers were bright again. They came back to life.
"La la la la la la la…"
And as he looked around, other than seeing dozens of eyes staring at him, flowers and leafs appeared to bloom from every crack in the floor and wall.
"La la la la la la…."
Christine admired the flowers as Raoul took a few breaths and set the instrument down. "You… Did this? With your violin? But how? And that melody?" "I don't know. I thought of the melody when I looked at you; when I saw something beautiful. "With that, he reached for the once dead flower; a rose and extended it out to her.
Christine looked at it in awe. "You thought of this? For me?" It felt like everything in the world at this moment was just the two of them and the rose. Just the two of them. The world fell away. Just...
"Raoul!" Mr. Daroga yelled, as he ran over. The world was back. It no longer was the two of them wrapped up in warmth, but it was now a cold large tavern with countless eyes on them. But most importantly, there was Mr. Daroga. The look on his face was one he could not describe. He looked horrified, yet relieved. "That melody. Where did you get it!? How did you get it!?"
Raoul finally regained his energy, and he stood up from the booth, followed by Christine. "It's an existing song? I'm sorry, it just came to mind. I assumed I had come up with it. I must have heard it somewhere-" "You couldn't have. No one has played that song for centuries. I didn't think anyone was capable of it."
The more that came out of Mr. Daroga's mouth, the more confused he was. What was he talking about?
"I don't understand."
"Raoul," Mr. Daroga slammed his staff to the ground and walked closer to Raoul. All eyes were on them at this moment.
"That's not just a normal melody. That song was written for Lady Melek thousands of years ago. By Mister Erik."