The Phantom Ascending |✔| [Phantom of the Opera Fanfiction]

Home at Last

Christine

Home.

It was strange to be home again after nearly a month of being pampered by Mrs. Manelli and her household.

The only useful thing I've been doing during that time was repeatedly reading the libretto and the score of the next opera Manelli was producing, even if my singing was reduced to humming.

And now! To practice with my Angel of Music at last -- there was so much joy in it, even if this was an opera he didn't write. Understandable, since one can hardly write a new epic opera every couple of months. It was still a lovely piece, a tragedy in which my character dies at the end, and I knew that these roles can move the audiences the best.

The muffled sounds that came from the kitchens and the servants' part of the house told me that some work was underway. The house looked clean. In my absence, the cleaning was organized by Mrs. Manelli, and it was now up to me to take care of the further schedule.

I informed the servants they were to keep working in the early hours, and to leave in the afternoons, which suited everyone best, especially since some of them had second jobs in the afternoons.

The biggest flaw of this arrangement was reheating or cooking my own supper, and tying and untying all my dresses, bit I've had a lot of practice in this by now, and if nothing else, it meant not wearing corsets unless when on stage; or wearing them, rarely, but less tight-laced than any self-respecting maid would allow.

As everyone left, I felt a rush of excitement. With an energy of a person who was bedridden and was now finally free, I ran upstairs with a huge grin on my face. The run left my muscles hurting, but I didn't care.

"Erik?" I called out, spinning around.

Silence.

I knocked on the study door and called out again. The door opened and I entered. Erik was standing there, smiling at me.

"Christine."

He had a habit of conveying a dozen meanings in that single word, just by saying my name. Something warmed within me, and suddenly I was really, really happy to be home again, in a house that was empty, but where I could also feel completely unrestrained. Free to run, laugh, sing, and free to feel, even when those feelings were a little scary.

Seized by that impulse, I smiled and embraced him. Surprised, he tensed under my touch, which made me blush and let go. I wanted to start talking about something else, but he started talking first.

"I've done some investigating by proxy, and I've learned his name."

Well. I blinked at his blunt delivery of a news piece.

"I'd-- we'd better sit down."

And we did. I looked at Erik in expectation.

"Marcello Teggio."

"I don't understand. The name is completely unknown to me," I shrunk in the large leather chair. "It doesn't mean a thing, doesn't help me..."

"But it does. It makes it easier to follow his trail and perhaps find him. He apparently never bothered with using false documents. There are records of him leaving across what used to be Venetian-Italian border."

"Good. I hope he stays wherever he left. It's my first day back home, so let's talk of something else, or let us retire to the music room. I am anxious to test my voice and see if I can fully use it. The rehearsals for the new production have already started without me."

He agreed to give me music lessons, and I could tell that his barely restrained excitement matched mine. I had to stop myself from giggling, but apart from being giddy, I was also nervous. An hour of singing later, Erik confirmed some of my fears.