5Yet again Madame Giry and I meet amid screams and chaos, all caused by him. Only it is she who seeks me out this time, no longer keeping the Opera Ghost's secrets. She leads me down, our hands carefully held at the level of our eyes. The path seems to go on forever but eventually brings us to a lake, and she will go no further.
As I stare into the black water below it seems I am standing at the mouth of Hades, and despite my lack of musical skill I cannot help but compare myself to Orpheus. I leap, praying that the abyss will not swallow me whole. The cold is shocking but I soon find my bearings and begin swimming to the other side.
When I fear I cannot continue, there is a gate, and candlelight piercing the darkness. I drag myself onto shore and see them - angel and demon. They do not notice my presence at first. She is dressed in a wedding gown and he in evening clothes, the mockery of a bride and groom. Before I can form a plan, I am discovered. Christine runs to me, and I reach for her through the metal bars.
He taunts me but I return his scorn with pleas for mercy. I demand to see her and he obliges, raising the gate. I do not hesitate to gather her into my arms, searching her for signs of harm. Our focus is only on each other, so neither of us notices the deadly flash of red until it is too late. The noose tightens around my neck, pulling me to my toes. She grasps at me and at it, desperate but unable to stop what is happening.
The monster drags Christine away while I can only struggle and choke for breath. I feel powerless as he clutches at her, offering her the horrible trade of my life and freedom for hers. Her eyes shine with tears but she is not defeated. She rises to challenge him, and he rages as I ask her forgiveness for failing to protect her as I promised.
He approaches as if to attack, but she steps between us with arms spread wide. My enemy and I are agreed on one thing - that he has already won. I beg Christine to refuse, insisting that her life with him would be a lie and mean my death all the same. The truth displeases him and he lunges toward me, but she continues to block his path. I marvel as this cold-blooded murderer shrinks under her gaze and retreats to the other side of the room. She follows, not backing down.
They thunder at each other in a queer sort of duet until they both collapse, he into his throne-like chair and she onto the floor at his feet. She slings a final accusation at him, but his patience is spent and he growls for her to choose at last. He stands and turns away, hands trembling as he clasps them behind his back. All is silent save the blood pounding in my ears. We are both condemned men, awaiting our sentence.
I cannot see Christine's face as she lifts herself to her feet and steps toward him. She reaches for her fallen Angel, voice full of gentleness and understanding. I can only watch in horror as she spins him around and draws him down to her. Their lips meet and I cry out, overcome by despair. For I know the truth - that I will never stop trying to free her, and that he will never let me live as long as he has her.
Her hands cradle his death's-head, while his flutter helplessly at her sides. The kiss ends but instead of releasing him, she clings to him tightly, pressing her face to his chest. His eyes are wide in disbelief. I fight the rope in vain and rasp out her name as she pulls him down a second time. Once more it feels as if my heart is being rent into pieces. His arms curl around her in the semblance of an embrace. I look away, unable to bear the sight any longer. I have failed her - and now she is lost to me forever.
From the corner of my vision, I see them separate. He gasps and stumbles to the organ but she remains behind, fingers pressed to her lips. He looks back at her for a long moment before his gaze locks on mine, expression pained. I can only guess at his intent as he takes a candle and raises it toward me. Christine's eyes never leave him, imploring him to uphold his half of the bargain.
A burst of flame is followed by the sudden release of pressure. Air rushes into my lungs and I fall to my knees. Freeing myself from the lasso, I throw it as far from me as my faded strength will allow. Christine is quickly at my side, helping me to stand. Her hands are on my face, my hair, my neck. I revel in the tender touch I thought I would never feel again.
The sound of angry voices carries over the lake. Even without Madame Giry's help, the mob has found their way through the cellars. He speaks to me, and at first I do not understand that he means to let us go. He tells me to take her, to leave together, to forget him and all that has happened here. Christine and I do not move, suspicious that this is another cruel trick.
I shield her from him, but she reaches out from behind me, a wordless plea for him to come with us. He gives us no choice but to leave, chasing us away with an inhuman wail. Just before we step into the boat Christine stops suddenly, looking down at his ring on her finger. She tells me she cannot leave him this way. I ask what she means, remembering the look of bewilderment on her face after she kissed him. One moment, she says. It will only take a moment to say goodbye, properly.
She turns from me and I see her as I imagine he must have - the true Angel of Music, a figure of white light in the darkness. The minutes pass like years, but she returns, finger bare. She does not hide her tears from me, and I do not ask what was spoken between them. She is with me now - my Christine, my savior - and nothing else matters.
We cross the lake in silence, listening for any signs of the approaching crowd. When we reach the other shore, our freedom so near, I am overcome with emotion. I keep hold of her hands after helping her out of the boat and pull her into an embrace. She returns it fiercely, and I can no longer contain my tears of joy and relief. Her kiss is a breath of new life, the promise of a new start together.
She leads me now, easily finding her way through the tunnels, and I wonder just how many times she has made this trek. I follow, clasping her hand desperately to reassure myself that she is real. We do not look at each other - afraid to tempt the fates, afraid that the other will vanish into the dark if we consider our victory won even a moment too soon. I push ahead as we approach the surface in case any of the mob has decided to wait outside the Opera, but the street is empty.
Only as we enter the night air, the dim gas street lamps shining like the sun after the endless black of the cellars, do I dare look back at her...my Eurydice.
A/N: I sketched out this plot bunny a few months ago and was inspired to finish it after finally seeing Love Never Dies in person. They completely ruined Raoul's character out of lazy storytelling, so I wanted to write something pro-Raoul and pro-R/C. Credit goes to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and all the amazing Raouls I've seen on stage over the years.