By Mary Chapel

Word Count: 672

Rating: G (suitable for all audiences)

Summary: Christine de Chagny still morns for unhappy Erik, but a new friend shows her the way forward.

Sometimes, Christine wanders and wonders….

Poor Erik!

~*~

Christine de Chagny, once Christine Daae had a peculiar fondness for graveyards.

This was never spoken of around other people; yet they knew and remarked on it.

Such a pretty young girl. Why does she spend hours in such dreary places? Is she mourning someone? A dead child? A handsome lover, perhaps?

Monsieur de Chagny was never seen with her when she made her odd visits. Why is that, mmmm? Is she keeping secrets from her husband? Does she have a meeting with someone? Does he approve?

But the couple and their new twin daughter and son rarely spoke to the locals, and the question was never resolved before they moved on to another town.

Why does she visit graveyards?

~*~

“Where is Mama going, Papa?” asked little Marguerite, nose pressed to the window.

“Whenever we move, she does the same thing!” reasoned Marius, pulling at his father’s arm. “Is she looking for the best place to buy yummy food?”

“She wouldn’t look so sad if she was shopping, Ma’ius! Don’t be silly!”

Raoul sighed and put down the carpetbags, trying to advert the beginning squabble. “Papa doesn’t know much about this, mes petits. She is very sad today. Perhaps she needs some ‘alone’ time.”

“But we’ve been good, Papa! I didn’t hit Marius once today, and I shared my sweets!”

Raoul picked Marguerite off the windowseat. “It’s not your fault, ma cherie. Now, how about we unpack so as surprise Mama when she comes home?”

“Yes Papa!”

Where are you now, Christine?

~*~

Christine needed to be alone. She hurried into the old village graveyard, blindly opening the gate. With eyes full of tears, she sat down on an old, rusty bench.

Today is the anniversary of Erik’s death. Oh, Erik….poor Erik….

Her tears fell lightly around her, coming faster and faster. Muffled weeping floated away over the misty meadows.

I should have stayed. Raoul could have found love elsewhere….but I wasn’t brave enough. I let you down. Oh, Erik, Erik….can you forgive me? I’m so sorry….

“You can’t marry because of pity, my dear,” a voice said softly above her.

Christine looked up. Another young woman stood near the bench. She was dressed in light gray, her hair was loose and free, and both swayed gently in the soft, misty air as if she was dancing, though she stood still.

“May I join you?” she asked, her voice quiet and serene.

“What do you know about my state?” Christine asked bitterly. She was past the point of politness. “You don’t even know my name or who I am!”

“More than you think. I went through similar times. Torn between the man I loved, and the man I pitied. I chose love and regretted it sorely. But it was the right choice. I could not love the other, and he did not want my pity. It is for the best, and I know that to be true now.”

Christine looked at the strange lady. “Did you…”

“Accept it? Yes I did, and found that, though I was not worthy of the final sacrifice he made for me, I would not have it otherwise for the whole world.”

She slipped into the seat next to Christine. “Look at your joys, your children, the love he bears for you, your life together as man and wife. Put away the ghosts of the past. They were never yours to begin with, and the choice is made, Christine Daae. It is time to live in the present, for him, for your children, and for the new one who needs his mother.”

“How…how did you know?” Christine stammered. “I’ve told no one!”

The stranger smiled and arose. “Remember me, Christine. Farewell!”

She stepped lightly away.

“Wait! Who are you? What is your name?” Christine called.

The lady turned, her hair and dress floating around her. “Lucie….Lucie Darnay.”

Christine blinked. She was alone once more.