2The last time she had felt this wind, time had seemed only a fable to her. It smelled sweet, in the summer. Memories that had since been buried in the passages of flowers crowding the ground, had risen anew with the buds on the trees.
Still, there was an acute sense of familiarity here. Even while some trees had fallen, some roots had reached higher to ensnare wanderers. The crows that cawed against the higher reaches still sent a thrill down her spine. A younger her had passed these places with a fleeting footstep, a giddy grin. A silly little doll clutched in her small little hands.
If she focused, there would be tears in her eyes, wandering back through all these shadowed sentinels. Her path softened, as it led to the opening through the trees – the slim parting which had since grown considerably from when her head had first brushed through it. Ducking, Christine knew the tangled ivy that hugged the trees had most likely deposited a leaf or two into her curls.
At least some things never changed.
Always a wild spirit is she. One who always tries to fly free.
O' you would not know the tale, behind the Bird and the Whale.
Shaking herself, and dusting away her leafy companion, Christine felt her gaze settle against the crest of the field, the rise ever so slight and placed to the left, where the noon's sun bathed it summer's cadence.
It had always been her field. Her playground of her own imagination. The living world that merged to one of outlandish, outdoor fantasy. The wilds where an Angel of Music had rested for many years.
The real gravesite of Gustave Daae.
She had been given leave to find this sanctuary, this recess that she'd once proudly strutted through as her own. Each flower given their own humble name, and each tree that became a hide-away.
A smile welled, but she blinked it back. If she gave more of an indication of emotion, then all of it would come crumbling down.
When she'd reached the top of the hill, her knees sent her a small complaint. Smiling ruefully, she settled down, knees tucked beneath her. Just as she had back when her knees weren't quite so argumentative.
She didn't look at the bark of the tree which patiently waited for her acknowledgement. Her fingers patted the ground, a respectful middle between a full greeting.
For a while, she waited. For the sun to glow, for the trees' susurrus, and a pigeon's coo to pass.
It was while the glade was bathed in such a light, her lips fell open. There, beyond the hill, and against the treeline were three figures.
Her head tilted, squinting against the light. It almost looked so very familiar – wasn't this a past illusion? Wasn't that her father in the feathering light, with a that jaunty stride she had always adored? And against him, a tiny figure that looked more of a petite faery, with wide curls? And another! A young lad – for he must be of nearly seven years – did he too have that golden hair?
Gasping, she raised her hand to her eyes, blinking, as they emerged from the sun's capturing glow.
What surprised her more, however, was what the shadows truly revealed.
It was him.
Her breath flew from her lips, a strange sound of surprise and laughter caught in her throat.
It couldn't be! How did he find her? Find her treasure garden?
But, they weren't looking at her, she realised.
She stumbled back out of view, leaning into the mighty tree's shadowed embrace.
The man and two children happily settled themselves into the curve of the hill. Their sighs of joy were mere echoes to her.
Her heart thudded desperately, a mixture of both elation and rumbling shock made her wish to sprint to them. Embrace him. To ask how he was! To see if he really had two fine children, with silken corn-hued hair, and each a dazzling smile, like any De Chagny heir would be.
But such emotions slowed when Raoul's calming, jovial, childish voice reached up to her and covered her in that soft lace comfort.
"Now, now Children. We have time for one story before we must leave! Mama would never forgive me if I let you come home after dark."
And she too, settled. Leaning into the tree, the unexpected, unknowing reunion grew as Raoul's voice folded into the long-debated and finally decided story of his children, of the Bird and the Whale.
She smiled.
"Yes, there was a Bird, Jeremiah. And Angelique, sit here, next to Papa, that way no bugs will get on your skirts." At last he cleared his throat, "Once upon a time, there existed both a Bird and a Whale. And a Whale is?"
"A big sea beast!" the boy squealed.
Christine laughed at Raoul's long suffering sigh, "I suppose that is one way of putting it. But, it is also a sea creature that is very large and rarely seen. It has a hole to breathe through, and it has a long, long body!"
"And, our story is set where a Bird one day finds itself lost in the middle of the sea. Its wings –"
"They use those to fly." The girl exclaimed triumphantly.
"Yes, my dear," Raoul said patiently, "Its wings were tired, and so this Bird found this large shape in the water and thought it would sit on it and rest. But, what the Bird hadn't realised, was that it was, in fact an animal –"
"A Whale," Jeremiah supplied knowingly.
"Yes, now hush," Raoul continued, "It was a whale. When the Bird sat, the beast arose slightly from the water. It asked the Bird kindly, 'Well, hello there. What are you doing on my back?' and the Bird replied, 'I am very tired from flying for so long, and I don't know where land is. Will you carry me there?'"
"Why doesn't the Birdy still fly?" the small female voice questioned.
"Well!" and a giggle came from the girl suddenly, as if she'd been prodded, "When you want to go to sleep, can you walk?"
The girl responded in the negative.
"So there you have it. This poor Birdy was SO tired, she just had to sleep on the back of this Whale. This Whale was very kind, and carried this Bird all across the sea. They saw many places together, but the Bird didn't leave the back of the Whale, so they weren't separated!"
"But why did the Bird not go when they got to another land? Surely it wanted to." Jeremiah's slightly petulant voice emanated, and Christine stifled another smile.
"You'll find out," Raoul replied, "The reason is, is that this Bird, realised she had fallen in love with the Whale. She enjoyed its company, its smile and the memories it gave her, visiting all the lands she couldn't visit with just her tired wings. However, eventually, this Bird started to miss how she used to fly everywhere. And, even though she enjoyed sailing on the back of this big Whale, this made her very conflicted. Do you know what that word means?"
"Confused?" Jeremiah offered.
"Yes, it does mean that. It also means to be in opposition of something." Raoul replied, "And so, this confused Bird had to reflect how much it wanted to travel independently, or on another's back. One day, the pair travelled to a land filled with Birds!"
"What Birds?" Angelique marvelled quietly.
"All kinds and variations. There were some which had only blue feathers and some only rainbow feathers, some had big ruffles and some had the tiniest beaks! Some even had multicoloured beaks. This was the first the Bird had seen so many like her. And, she realised they flew in groups, and could teach her new things, that the poor Whale could not. For the Whale belonged in the sea, with all the other sea creatures. And the Bird…The Bird very much didn't."
"What did she do?" the young girl breathed.
Raoul laughed, "Well, the Whale saw how this Bird was far more a Bird than he! He saw all the others of her kind, and how they wished for her to join them. And the Whale realised, that while the Bird didn't want to leave him alone, after they'd shared so much together…He would have to let her go. They lived in the world in very different environments – habitats, homes," he explained, "And while the Bird could survive in one, and would desert it to be with the Whale, he knew the noble act was to release her."
"But wouldn't the Whale be sad?" Angelique pouted.
"Of course he would," Jeremiah answered, "But he knew it was the right thing, didn't he Papa?"
Raoul's tone softened, so that even she could hear the loving pride in his voice, "Quite right, my boy. The Whale would let the Bird go, so she would be able to fly to her happiness. Even those memories she would always keep fondly, of each other, she belonged with another. And – so did he!"
"What happened to the Whale?" Jeremiah's voice lowered with curiosity.
"Ah, the Whale swam by itself for months, mourning the friendship and love they once had, but eventually found another whale to love. And the Bird – well, even while the Whale never saw it again, it knew that it had made its own happiness by being free. The End." Raoul finished with a sigh.
Christine swallowed, exhaling and wiped away a tear that would smudge the dry earth.
She slowly stood, and stroked her hand over the bark. The marks that were so crudely cut against it had aged well. The bark hadn't healed, and while she had regretted her vandalism against her subject, it bore the mark proudly.
Father.
From below, Christine heard Raoul stretching, with an exaggerated yawn that pulled against her. She should go down. To see him, even after this terribly wonderful co-incidence, to ask him how he'd found his way to her old cottage and followed that same trail to her domain – but she let the three mirages disappear back the way they came. The laughter and giggles that followed became just another echo which graced the glade from when her own adventures had led her there.
Always a wild spirit is she. One who always tries to fly free.
O' you would not know the tale, behind the bird and the whale.
For the bird would fly again, if it weren't for her sea-creature friend,
Betrothed to the sky, the whale let her fly, and away she flew,
Never to be seen again.
And the whale, who realised how lovely it was to be, a hero to one's fantasy.
The sun had dimmed by the time Christine felt the presence behind her.
"Did you enjoy the tale?" he asked, softly.
She turned, smiling. "I did. I don't know how you knew. But he was here!"
The man echoed her, tilting his head, "But he was here. And now, are you happy?"
Christine nodded, and flew into his tentative – open – arms, and they descended around her like a deep, soothing blanket.
"Did you worry I would be stolen?" she gasped, as his arms kept her against him, his chest thin enough to hear each tremendous heartbeat, "I would always follow you, my love,"
Her husband shuddered, his hand reaching and curling fingers against her hair, a little scrunch, "It took all my will not to come and take you home, dearest," his laughter was pale, and scratchy.
She crushed herself into his embrace all the tighter, smelling the musk of his clean shirt's linen, "Oh Erik, my darling, I am far too wise to not know any other would fit me as you do –" and her pleasing laughter sent a warm tremor through her husband.
His breath brushed her forehead, "Oh, you mustn't sound so profound. I might just have to steal you away again, my dear." His deep laughter followed, as he took her against his side.
They stood in front of the tree's mark, and Erik gave a solemn bow to the tree, a hushed silence falling that even the wind settled.
"I believe we have travelled with each wingbeat, and heartbeat together. I owe your daughter much more than my company," he swallowed, the mask tight against his cheek, "But I am ever your humble servant, Father of Christine. Thank you for giving her the wings to choose her own path, and the compassion for her to guide my own." His hand reached out, the barest press of pale fingertips against even paler bark, before he stepped back and returned his cloak to rest along her shoulders as well.
His smile looked as soft as his lip, as he gazed at her.
"I am pleased I have gotten as near him as I can be in this world, in order to thank him for you." His hand reached and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, still in awe as she leaned ever so slightly into the touch.
"I do love you so." Her quiet admission had barely breathed in the air before she was rising onto tip-toes, her own hand brushing against his cheek, back against his ear, and pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes as he curled back into her.
And for a while, the world once again faded away into another precious memory.
Welp! It's been a long time my phriends! I honestly had the toughest months of my life, so hence the absence from Christmas! But, I do intend to keep posting, and writing new and continueing current fics I have going (now I've had a little time to relax! )
BIG ANNOUNCEMENT:
I've moved to AO3, now. While I may keep up with FFN for my new oneshot stories, I may not. I am under the username of my tumblr EnigmaWritesStuff on AO3 too, and still have the same profile picture! Yay! I will end up putting Falling Petals on there too, once it is finished! (...I mean, if it all goes to plan?) While I could go back and rewrite it, I honestly do not have the mental energy. So, it will stay as it is!
I had this plot bunny start, because I felt nostalgic! Hope everyone has a good day, night or whichever you live in currently!
It's good to serve phood again, I tell you! ^^
PS I hope you had a wonderful, spring and now summer! (or the opposite, if you're in the other hemisphere). :P
Your humble writer,
Enigma