While Lotte is a die-hard member of the "Christine should have married the Phantom" group, she has written fanfic in favor of Raoul marrying Christine, and that is the only reason it's under Raoul-Lovers.
"How�s this?" Christine emerged from the dressing room wearing a shiny sky-blue dress that floated in long, fabulous waves from her waist into a pretty dome.
"Oh, Christine!" cried a near-speechless Meg.
"Goodness!" puffed Mme. Giry. "You look twice as beautiful as I expected, though only HALF that good would have sufficed!"
"Is that a compliment?" asked Meg.
Christine smiled. "I think so."
"We�ll arrange your hair like so," rambled Mme. Giry, toying with the long rich ringlets of Christine�s hair, "and give you a bouquet of blue roses to cover your hands. Though," she added with a motherly smile, "Your hands are quite pretty enough without the roses!"
"And your hair MUST be tied with blue ribbons!" cried Meg.
"Do you think he�ll like it?" asked Christine anxiously.
"Darling," laughed the old Giry, "he likes ANYTHING on you."
"Oh, I just wish I could tell Erik first! I haven�t seen him since my wedding-day, and sometimes I worry."
"In a year?" asked Meg, wide-eyed.
"Hush, Meg!" snapped Mme. Giry. Turning to her lovely charge, she soothed, "I�ve no doubt he�ll be there tonight. He still loves to hear you sing."
"I MUST see him! But how will I find him?"
"Don�t worry! He�ll BE there!"
*****
"Ready, dear?"
Raoul glanced up from the newspaper at his wife, just cleaned and dressed to go. "Darling, isn�t it a bit early to leave? You�re restless tonight!"
"Sorry, dear, but I�m anxious to go."
"Fine." Raising his voice, Raoul called, "Victoria! Order the fine horses! Bring them to the door!" Turning to his wife again, he asked in concern, "Are you all right? You�ve been rather queer lately."
Christine sat in his lap and gave him a child-like hug. "I�m sorry," she drawled.
Raoul kissed her affectionately. "Oh well. Never mind. Let�s go."
He led her to the carriage, where they rode to the Opera House. Christine, blowing him a kiss, ran off to the dressing rooms and quickly entered hers.
Just as it had always been... Just like the room she had had so many music lessons in from a strange, unseen ventriloquist. Just like the room he had kidnapped her from. She sighed. She had thought she was happy then, but now she truly knew the meaning of happiness.
Christine slipped into the graceful blue dress and surveyed herself in the mirror--the very mirror that had once opened to let her down into horror and blackness. She shuddered, wondering if she was prepared to face the master of that horror and blackness again.
"Ready?" called a voice from the door.
"Yes, come on in," Christine invited.
In came Mama Valerius, the new hair stylist for the performers. Laying out her various tools for the artistic work, she commented, "That dress is lovely on you, Mrs. de Chagny!"
Christine smiled. "Thank you, Mama."
Mme. Valerius began tying all sorts of streamers into the luscious hair. She frizzed it into a sort of cloud about her mistress�s head, then applied no end of hair-spray stationaries to hold the mass together.
"Thank you, Mama," Christine said as the old woman prepared to leave.
"You make a beautiful Violetta!"
As the door closed, Christine put away her terror and bravely faced the mirror. "Erik!" she called, loudly and clearly. "Angel of Music! Come to me!"
The mirror suddenly radiated with white light which dimly illuminated the entire room. Through the silver shimmer of the mirror, the figure of a man dressed in a black suit and wearing a mask strode.
"Angel," whispered Christine as he stood facing her. "I just wanted to know that you would come to tonight�s performance."
"I always come," Erik assured her.
Christine smiled. "Meet me and Raoul in Box Three after it�s over, will you please? I have some wonderful which I don�t know who to tell first--you or him. Please come."
"Anything to oblige you, my dear," Erik promised. Over the last year, he had lost his bitter hatred for Raoul and now looked on him as the best, most worthy present to be had for such a beautiful opera singer. Though wistful of their happiness, Erik was no longer consumed with jealousy when he saw Christine and Raoul together. Instead, he lived on underground, composing music and letting the past just die. Now he vanished as suddenly as he had appeared and left Christine, trembling alone, alone to go downstairs to prepare for the opera she was about to star in.
La Traviata, the opera they were about to perform, is a tragic grand opera of the Italian school, composed by Giuseppe Verdi. It is based upon the story of Camile, by Alexander Dumas the Younger. The opera was presented in Venice in 1853. It remains a favorite year after year, chiefly because of the richly emotional melodies.
The beautiful yet wicked Violetta Valery (soprano) entertains Alfred Germont (tenor) at a party at her house in Paris. When the guests retire to the ballroom, Alfred tells Violetta that he loves her and wants her to forsake the life she leads. She goes to marry him in a quiet country setting, as she is won by the thought that an honest man really cares for her. But Giorgio Germont (baritone), Alfred�s father, persuades her to forsake Alfred for the sake of the family.
The opera was pulled off with flying colors. Triumph was showered on the heads of all the performers, and the audience stood and applauded thunderously. No chandelier crashed to the stage; nor did anyone croak or mysteriously disappear. Erik�s days of trickery were over, and most people assumed the "Phantom fellow" had died or gone elsewhere.
Christine immediately slipped away to Box Three where Raoul was waiting to shower love on her. When she finally stepped back from his embraces, he asked, "What�s the secret, Little Lot?"
"Darling, I can�t tell you yet. Erik�s not here!"
"Christine!" cried Raoul in horror and wonder. "You DIDN�T go to him!"
"Yes, Raoul, I did. He neither touched me nor attempted murder. I have wonderful news to tell both of you � I didn�t know who to tell first, so I invited you both."
"I�ll kill him!" snarled Raoul furiously.
"Settle down, dear," urged Christine, gently pushing him into a seat. "I have a feeling you�d be safer already down. Erik�s not even here yet, so just cool it."
"Who says he isn�t?" asked a voice, when suddenly the Phantom of the Opera appeared.
Raoul doubled his fists, but Christine said, "Sit down, Erik. I have news for you."
"Let�s hear it," ordered Raoul, eyes and glare and fist aimed at the guest. Erik, totally unconcerned, sat in a chair and leaned back in relaxation, running his fingers through his hair. Quite in contrast to the Vicomte, the Opera Ghost smiled and appeared quite at ease.
"Raoul, forgive me," apologized Christine (and this got her husband�s attention). "I probably should have told you first...but Erik has always been a dear, dear friend, and he let me free to marry you. I felt he ought to know along with you."
Raoul glowered menacingly at the Phantom. "Go on."
Christine smiled, putting a hand on Raoul�s tense arm. "Honey, you and I are parents."
I don�t know how to put into words the scene that followed... Would "pandemonium" help conjure up the image in your mind? Raoul went nuts--totally off his handle. He laughed, he cried, he hugged, he danced, he wanted to know when and what, he sang, he shrieked by turn. He told Christine to take it easy in one breath and in the next half asphyxiated her in hugs. Christine laughed �til she cried at his zeal and enthusiasm. Erik chuckled, then got occupied prying the Vicomte off the mother-to-be lest she be suffocated. Raoul returned the favor by heartily shaking Erik�s hand and pounding him on the back. Then he screamed to the entire house of actors, musicians, and spectators, "I�m gonna be a DADDY!!!!!"
"Raoul!" laughed Christine, trying to calm him down, "you ARE a Daddy! The baby is alive, now!"
This only excited Raoul further. He announced to the world that he already WAS a Daddy.
"Take it easy, Monsieur," begged Erik, forcefully pushing Raoul into a seat. "Catch your breath, at least! You�re gagging!"
Raoul was, indeed, coughing for air, but he sat there laughing and crying in a MOST undignified manner. Erik produced a handkerchief which Raoul gratefully accepted. At length he calmed down and began drilling Christine with questions and orders, �til she could only laugh. Erik slipped away unnoticed.
But later, when the never-happier couple were lying in bed, Raoul remarked, "You know, Lot? That Phantom fellow is one decent guy! Let�s name our boy after him!"
"IF it�s a boy!" reminded Christine.
"If it�s a girl, how about Margaret Christine?"
"I vote for Christine Aminta."
Raoul sighed happily. "Well, we have lots of time to think!"
