[August 7] [The Phantom of the Opera] [Whispers of the Forest Elves, Chapter 3]

[rose-of-pollux.livejournal.com]

Title: Whispers of the Forest Elves; Chapter 3: The Lynx and the Elf Circle
Day/Theme: August 7; "Somewhere just left of the point of nowhere"
Series: The Phantom of the Opera
Character/Pairing: Raoul de Chagny/Christine Daaé
Rating: PG

This chapter will be cross-posted to 30_memories and http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4394628/3/


“Christine,” said Raoul, keeping as calm as he could (in reality, his heart was pounding in his chest as the lynx bared its sharp teeth). “Back away slowly, and whatever you do, do not run.”

Carefully, the two children took slow, cautious steps away from the log and the kitten.

“Do you think we’ve angered it…?” Christine asked, in a small voice.

“I am afraid so; going too close to its child would be more than enough provocation,” said Raoul. “I want you to find the nearest tree which you can climb, and get to a high branch.”

Christine risked a glance behind her. There were no climbable trees nearby; the tree trunks were tall and smooth. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw a low-hanging oak branch. Perhaps, if she jumped, she would be able to reach it.

Desperate to get out of the way of the lynx, she didn’t stop to consider that the sudden move would have been enough to act as the last straw for the angered cat. The moment she jumped and grabbed hold of the branch, the lynx ran at her, swiping at her dangling feet. Christine shrieked in alarm, holding onto the branch for dear life as she desperately tried to keep her feet out of the creature’s way.

“Christine!” Raoul yelled. All good judgment left him; grabbing a fallen branch from the forest floor, he approached the cat, brandishing the branch in order to distract it from Christine.

His plan worked all too well; the lynx left Christine and turned on him.

“Run, Christine!” he ordered.

Christine obeyed, casting a horrified glance at the scene behind her; the lynx was forcing Raoul to literally run backwards. Unfortunately for the young viscount, he couldn’t afford to look behind him, which resulted in him tripping over a moss-covered stone.

Christine, who had still been glancing behind her as she ran, screamed as she saw the lynx take a swipe at her friend. Raoul did his best to dodge the cat’s blow; he successfully got to his feet, but not without enduring a few gashes from the lynx’s claws on his right shoulder.

“Keep running!” he called to her, deciding to retreat as well.

Only after ensuring that he was alright did the girl flee. He was right behind her, with the lynx in pursuit. Only after they had run several yards away did the lynx give up the chase and return to her kitten.

But Raoul and Christine, still wary that she might change her mind and resume her pursuit, continued to run. Both of them had forgotten to keep track of where they had been running; Raoul had dropped the chalk-like stone when the lynx had charged at them, and even if he had still had it in his possession, he wouldn’t have had the time to draw the dashes on the trees.

All he could do was pray that he would be able to remember their way back to the village.

**************************************

Back in the village, Raoul’s governess was hard at work; she was mending one of the boy’s many torn jackets.

“Every time he goes off with that Daaé girl, he always ends up ruining his jackets in some way or another,” she sighed to herself. “Heaven only knows what those two get themselves into…”

Her thoughts were diverted by a sharp knocking upon the front door.

“Master Philippe!” the governess exclaimed, curtseying before him. “What brings you here?”

“I wish to speak with my younger brother,” the count replied. “I have been called to London on business, and I feel as though that it would beneficial for Raoul to accompany me.”

“Are you certain?” asked the governess, trying as casually as possible to hide the boy’s torn jacket. “He is but a child, Master Philippe; I do not know if going on a business trip at such a young age is wise.”

“The boy needs to learn of the responsibilities that will one day be his; now is just as good a time as any to learn,” said Philippe. “And I would think that he should be pleased at the chance to go abroad for a change. I must speak with him at once; where is he?”

“He has been in his room all morning,” the governess replied. “It is odd, I must say; I haven’t heard a word from him all day. It usually is a constant struggle to keep him in the house.” She led Philippe to the upstairs room. “Master Raoul? Your brother is here to speak with you!”

There was no reply.

“Master Raoul?” she asked.

“Raoul, I must speak with you at once,” said Philippe, in a slightly commanding tone.

There was still no reply, and the door was locked.

“Surely he cannot be asleep at this time!” said the governess. “Oh, I pray he isn’t ill…”

“Raoul, I order you to open this door!” said Philippe.

And when no reply came, Philippe forced the locked door open. To his astonishment, the room was empty.

“Mercy!” cried the governess. She pointed to a bed sheet, which had been twisted into a rope. One end had been tied to the bedpost, and the other end vanished outside, through the open window. “Oh, Master Raoul, what have you done!? Where have you gone!?”

“You haven’t the slightest idea as to when he left?” asked Philippe.

“None at all, Master Philippe!” the governess wailed, wringing her hands in worry. “I thought that he was in his room this entire time!”

“Pull yourself together,” said Philippe, in a calm voice, hoping that the governess would calm down as well. “Surely you must have some idea where Raoul goes during the times he actually announces his departure.”

“He often goes to the village square with the violinist’s daughter,” the woman recalled. “Or they go by the seaside; those two explore every part of the village and the surrounding area.”

“Fine,” said Philippe. “We shall pay a visit to this violinist; perhaps he is aware of where my brother is…”

“You… you shan’t be too harsh on Master Raoul, shall you?” asked the governess. “He is only a child; he doesn’t know any better…”

“Then it is high time that he learned,” said Philippe, with a sigh. “He cannot act this stubborn and impulsive forver; it will one day lead him into trouble, mark my words…”

But in the back of his mind, he had to admit that he was trying to treat Raoul as though he was several years older than his true age. It wasn’t intentional, of course; Philippe himself had been pulled into adulthood far earlier than he had expected to. With his two sisters married off, he alone had to care for his younger brother. And Philippe had to admit that he wasn’t sure as to what he was doing. Raoul was unlike the other young members of the aristocracy. It seemed as though the children of most other noblemen held their titles and ranks with pride, happily attending high-class gatherings and banquets. Raoul, on the other hand, seemed more at easing spending time with this daughter of a violinist, preferring treks and walks to galas and dinners. One would never guess that he was a Chagny.

That was partly the reason why he had wanted Raoul to accompany him to London; it would have given Philippe the chance to better understand his younger brother.

“When will you understand, younger brother, that this was not my choice, either?” he thought.

“Do you think that we should pay a visit to Monsieur Daaé and ask him where Master Raoul is?” asked the governess, trying her hardest not to fret over the missing viscount.

“Yes; we shall leave at once,” said Philippe.

************************************

It seemed like an age and a half until Raoul and Christine felt safe enough to stop running. They reached a clearing. It was a small, grassy clearing where the mushrooms grew in an odd circle formation, but the children were far too exhausted and shaken to admire it.

“Raoul, your shoulder!” Christine exclaimed.

“I’ll be fine, Christine,” he promised her. “But I don’t expect that my governess will be pleased to see that I’ve ruined yet another jacket…”

“Why on earth would you wear your best clothes to the woods?” asked Christine, as she placed a handkerchief on Raoul’s shoulder.

Despite himself, Raoul smiled, and Christine seemed to read his mind.

“Your governess didn’t know that you were coming today, did she?” Christine asked, her eyebrows arched. “Oh, Raoul…”

“Can you blame me for not telling her, Christine?” he asked. “She would never have let me go this far into the woods, either…” He trailed off as he realized that they were, in fact, lost.

“This is my fault…” Christine realized.

“No,” said Raoul, hastily. “You didn’t know that it was a lynx kitten that you were hearing--”

“I wouldn’t have heard the kitten if I had listened to you about straying from the path,” she said, her lip quivering slightly. "And now look at where I’ve got us! Not only are we lost, but you’ve hurt your shoulder because of me!”

“But I told you, Christine; I’m absolutely fine!” he said. He wasn’t upset with Christine at all; he was merely relieved that she had escaped from the lynx. Being lost was a predicament, but it was a predicament that could easily be remedied after a few careful observations of the sky.

“But how shall we ever find our way back?”

“Simple,” said Raoul. “We shall wait for evening. Once I find the North Star, I should be able to find the way back. After that, we just explain to your father that we lost track of time, and that we apologize for being late for supper. And no one will ever know that we were lost.”

Christine glanced up at the sky.

“I hope you are right,” she said. “But it looks like those clouds are rolling in; how will you ever find the North Star if the clouds remain there?”

Raoul let out a low whistle, adding a silent prayer that the clouds would disperse by twilight. If they did not clear by that time, it would certainly present problems for them.

Christine looked away.

“I’m sorry, Raoul.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured her. “If you had not asked me to come today, I’d be in my room, studying.”

“At least you wouldn’t be lost in the woods,” she replied, forlornly.

“Well, you wanted to have an adventure, Christine,” he said. “I say we make the most of it.”

And, at last, a slight smile found its way to Christine’s lips.

“Yes…” she said, and she pointed to the circle of mushrooms. “I think we might be close to the elves, Raoul; we have found an elf circle!”

And Raoul had to wonder if finding the ring of mushrooms was a coincidence, or if it had something to do with seeing the strange creature not too long ago. Legend had it that rings of mushrooms were gateways to the realm of the fair folk. If that was the case, what on earth had that green creature been?

Raoul leaned forward, to try to see if he could discern any small footprints in the grass, which would have indicated the presence of something walking into the circle of mushrooms.

“Be careful, Raoul; mind that you don’t go into the ring!” warned Christine, placing a hand upon his arm. “If you go in, you might not come out! I wouldn’t want you to disappear like that…”

“True,” Raoul mused. “We only came to see the elves—not join them… And Philippe wouldn’t be at all pleased if that were to actually happen.”

They sat by the circle of mushrooms for a few minutes.

“I doubt that the elves will show themselves whilst we sit here and wait for them,” Christine said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We should hide behind some of the trees and see if they come!”

Raoul nodded; it would do no good for them to wander around. Perhaps it would be best if they waited here for twilight, so that they’d be able to see the stars. And he had to admit that coming across the elf circle had slightly intrigued him; maybe, just maybe, they had seen an elf.

The two friends immediately retreated behind the nearest couple of trees, watching and waiting for something to happen.