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thephantomessoftheopera · 3 years

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Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Chapter 27: „End of the Ghost‘s Love Story“

Artwork by @flaviamarquesart

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“End of the Ghost’s Love Story” is the most powerful chapter in the novel, because it reveals the full extent of Erik’s love for Christine. It is also the one that makes the story truly extraordinary, because it redeems his character and lifts him above the level of a gothic villain, who is usually defeated and punished in the end. This is why he is generally considered a “Byronic Hero” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byronic_hero). The Byronic hero is a complex, often tragic form of romantic anti-hero who is generally more villain than traditional hero, but who has at least one redeeming quality (usually connected to love) which makes him a sympathetic figure despite his flaws and/or crimes. The character type was created by the English poet Lord Byron in his works such as “The Corsair” and “Don Juan”, and became extremely popular in the 19th century. Except for his looks, Erik fits that classic character type in almost all other aspects (highly intelligent, tortured, violent, ruthless, manipulative and driven by an all-consuming passion).

The chapter’s title also makes it clear that the whole thing is a love story at its core - everything in the novel happened because Erik fell in love with Christine. It is, and has always been, the story of Erik’s love - he is the one character we follow up until the end.

The final chapter is narrated by Leroux again, but it draws on what the Persian supposedly told him when he went to visit him in his flat in the rue de Rivoli. When the Persian wakes up after losing consciousness in the water, he and Raoul are resting in the Louis-Philippe room, and Erik and Christine are taking care of them. Raoul has already woken up before the Persian, and is now asleep again.

The room itself astounds the Persian in how ordinary and old-fashioned it looks, and how much it contrasts with Erik’s general appearance (remember that the Persian had never been in Erik’s house before). Erik explains to him that the furniture once belonged to his mother, which explains why the style is so different from his bedroom, which is decidedly more „Erik“. The Persian also wonders why Christine, who is moving silently through the room and then sitting down beside the fireplace, ignores both Raoul and himself when tries to call her. The Persian believes that Christine is reading “The Imitation of Christ”, which is significant and which I will come back to a little later. The “opposites” theme is also present in this scene again, describing Erik’s figure as black and a demon, and Christine’s as white and an angel. The Persian finally falls asleep again.

When he wakes for the second time, Erik has already delivered him back to his flat according to the promise he made to “his wife”. The Persian immediately sends to find out what happened to Raoul, and learns that Raoul has disappeared and that Philippe’s body has been found on the shore of the lake under the opera house. The Persian has no doubt that Philippe was drowned by Erik (or “the siren”), and decides to denounce him to the police. However, his testimony is ridiculed, and he - like Raoul - is taken for a lunatic. The Persian then decides to write everything down and later hands his manuscript to Leroux (which is what we’ve been reading in these last chapters).

When he has finished writing his account down, Erik comes to visit him. He is clearly unwell and described as weak, leaning against the wall and “pale as a sheet”. The Persian accuses him of murdering Philippe and wants to know what happened to Raoul and Christine, whether they are dead or alive. Erik denies murdering Philippe, but the Persian doesn’t believe him. We don’t really know the truth though, so the “murder mystery” has no definite resolution and turns into more of a side note.

Erik tells the Persian that he is about to “die of love” for Christine. As I’ve mentioned before, I believe that the most likely physical cause of his death would really be the gunshot that Raoul fired at him, and a possible infection following that injury which would lead to his precarious state of health as seen in this chapter. This could metaphorically also be described as “dying of love” (because he wouldn’t have caught that bullet if he hadn’t been in love).

After turning the scorpion, Christine begged him to save Raoul, and she had already offered before to accept his proposal if he gave her the key to the torture chamber, but Erik did not care then, because he did not believe her. But when she swears to him that she will become his “living wife”, it‘s different as he finally sees in her eyes what he has been hoping to see - Christine’s genuine commitment. She means to go through with her promise and is accepting him as her husband at that moment - and this is why her commitment is powerful enough to break through to him.

According to their agreement, Erik takes the Persian aboveground, but since Raoul probably wouldn’t agree to leave, Erik drugs him and locks him up in the dungeon beneath the fifth cellar. Then he returns to Christine, who stands calmly waiting for him. Erik suddenly feels “shyer than a little child” as he approaches Christine, but she does not back away from him. He tenderly kisses her forehead and is overwhelmed with how good it feels to kiss her, as no woman has ever allowed him to, not even his mother. Christine even leans into his touch a little, and remains close to him after the kiss, „as if it were perfectly natural“.

Fear and disgust are very powerful, primal emotions, but Christine‘s feelings for Erik are strong enough to overcome both. Considering that no one, not even the Persian, was able to even look at Erik’s face without horror, I feel that Christine must have cared very deeply for him, as she allows his kiss without fear and without recoiling from him at all, even after everything he has put her through.

He falls at her feet and starts crying of happiness, and seeing his tears, Christine starts to cry as well. Erik tears off his mask so that he won’t lose any of her tears on his skin, and still Christine shows no sign of horror or disgust. And she doesn’t only allow him to touch her, but she also touches him of her own free will and takes his hand, saying “poor, unhappy Erik”. I feel that this is the moment when the full expanse of his life’s tragedy truly hits her. She is not only the first woman, but the first person in his entire life to treat him with tenderness and acceptance.

Gratitude and love for her overwhelm him and make him realize that he has forced her choice. He puts the gold wedding ring into her hand, setting her free and telling her that he knows she loves Raoul and that she is free to go and marry him whenever she pleases. He „calmly cuts his heart to pieces“ and puts her happiness before his own in this final expression of true love and sacrifice. For as damaged as he was, the ending proves that Erik truly loved Christine because his love is ultimately selfless. There is also no bitterness in his feelings towards Christine after she leaves - he has always loved her, and still continues to love her. He still feels protective of her: “I’d better not hear that anyone has touched a single hair on her head!” Christine gave him “all the happiness in the world”, and he is grateful to her for this gift. His love for her redeems him as a character and proves to be his moral compass - before, he considered himself “outside the human race” and therefore not bound by common moral values.

In the previous chapter, Christine is shown reading what the Persian believes to be “The Imitation of Christ”. I don’t think that is a coincidence, and I also believe that the name “Christine” was perhaps even chosen for her on purpose (she was originally named Pauline, according to Leroux’s manuscript). Christine becomes a “Christ figure” here in two ways: through her sacrifice, she saves the lives of Raoul, the Persian and everyone in the Opera. But she also offers acceptance and love to a sinner, an outcast who has been shunned by society - and this is an extremely powerful gesture. She possessed the strength necessary to see Erik as a human being, and that is what sets her apart from everyone else. Her love here transcends the realm of romantic love and becomes almost divine - all-encompassing, forgiving, healing.

Christine may superficially fit the traditional image of a “damsel in distress”, but the would-be hero who was coming to rescue her didn’t get very far, nor could he do anything to save her. The only hero who saved Christine was Christine herself - and she also saved everyone else: Raoul, the Persian, everyone in the Opera, and Erik. Both Christine and Erik show incredible bravery in this chapter: Christine‘s bravery shows in her truly accepting Erik as a man and in saving Raoul, and Erik‘s bravery consists in letting her go, relinquishing his one chance in his life of having everything he has ever dreamed of.

Erik then goes to free Raoul and brings him to Christine, where Raoul and Christine kiss. Christine swears to Erik that she will come back to bury him with the ring, and then she finally kisses him before they leave.

Seeing Erik weeping and overcome with emotion, the Persian no longer doubts him. Erik tells the Persian that when he feels he is close to dying, he will send the letters that Christine had left with him and a few of her personal objects to him, and that this would be the cue for the Persian to put an obituary notice in the newspaper so that Christine and Raoul would know. Interestingly, that entire arrangement hinged on Erik himself announcing his death without anyone confirming it, because he could only mail things to the Persian if he was still alive. This leaves a lot of blank space for the reader’s imagination, because who knows if he really died…? The Persian, at least, never saw him again, but announced three weeks later that “Erik is dead”.

Next chapter >>

#phantom of the opera #lerouxreadingguide #leroux erik #leroux phantom #gaston leroux #le fantôme de l'opéra #erik in love #erik x christine #give erik a hug #the ghost‘s love story #the phantom #the phantom of the opera #erik the phantom #christine daae #byronic hero #gothic romance #classic literature #the persian #raoul shoots erik

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missyart123 · 3 years

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Soulbound - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | AO3

Techno stirred, slowly registering a presence beside him. His mind felt like it was made of sludge and it took him far longer than it should have to make Phil’s face out amongst the dim surroundings.

His eyes focused on Phil’s lips as they stopped moving, tilting his head to gesture for him to repeat himself.

Phil sighed. “You alright, mate?” Techno didn’t deign that with a response, merely flicking his eyes up to meet Phil’s with the most judgemental face he could muster. “Yeah, okay, stupid question.” The older man huffed a laugh, leaning back.

Silence engulfed them and Techno didn’t bother to break it. Instead, his eyes traced the patterns on the ceiling, trying to ignore the aching pain that was a constant in his chest. He didn’t try changing position, knowing it would do nothing. The pain wasn’t physical, but rather metaphysical: his soul crying out as it was ripped in two. And that wasn’t even a metaphor; he could feel the tethers slowly snapping one by one as the other half of his being moved further and further away from this plane.

Phil shifted beside him, leaning across to place a grounding hand on Techno’s shoulder. “Just hang in there mate, we’ll get him back. We have to.”

Techno huffed, shrugging off Phil’s hand with an eye roll. “Yeah, sure.”

Sarcasm dripped from his tone, and he could tell that Phil wanted to retort, but knew it was pointless. They’d had this argument too many times before. Phil was being stupidly optimistic.

He was gone. Nothing would change that now.

Phil ran a hand through his hair, frustration lining every movement, and Techno couldn’t help but feel guilty. Phil didn’t deserve to have to deal with this; he was better off just leaving. Techno would be fine.

But the one time Techno had tried explaining this to him, Phil had responded so negatively that Techno hadn’t bothered to try again. It was frustrating, though. Why wouldn’t Phil just leave him alone?

“Dream’s coming by soon.” Techno groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Why did the green bastard have to be so persistent? He wasn’t in the mood to spar today and he knew Dream would pick up on that instantly.

Regardless, he heaved himself into a sitting position. He wasn’t about to show an ounce of weakness to that demented Teletubby.

A couple of hours later and he and Dream were heading out once again. It had become a routine of sorts; every week Dream would come by, buzzing with pent up energy, and they’d spar for hours, weapons clashing until one of them yielded. What with their matching egos, this didn’t happen very often, and more often than not they’d reach a stalemate, both too exhausted to throw another punch.

He eyed the energized man next to him warily. The weight of the sword he had struggled to heave onto his shoulder felt heavier now more than ever and he knew today wasn’t going to end well. Dream wouldn’t be happy.

They reached a clearing and the masked man immediately began constructing the rough ring they used to fight in. Usually Techno would help out, but today he hung back instead, Dream shooting him annoyed glances every few seconds. It was probably only going to fuel Dream in their upcoming session, but he couldn’t care less. A small, vindictive part of him was enjoying watching Dream get steadily wound up. Maybe Dream would feel a fraction of what he had put his brothers through.

The thought normally would have sparked rage in him, but lately he just felt tired. He knew it was probably a side effect of having his soul pried apart, but he couldn’t pull together enough strength to really give a shit about anything. God, today was a bad idea.

“Come on then, Blood God. What have you got?” Techno smirked at the irritation in the other’s voice. He could feel the man’s gaze boring into to him as he slowly pushed off of the tree he was leaning against, slowly making his way towards the ring in a way that was absolutely because he was trying to piss off Dream and definitely not because he couldn’t move any faster.

“More than you, Teletubby.” The joke fell flat, his voice not carrying enough inflection to hold the usual bite. Dream paused, eyes roaming over Techno as if looking for something wrong with him.

Techno scoffed. Enough with the bullshit.

Techno lunged without warning, sword swinging down in arc that Dream was barely quick enough to block. He watched as what he could see of Dream’s mouth curved into a grin and braced.

Dream dropped the block quickly and pushed forward instead, slamming his shoulder into Techno’s chest. Techno purposefully stumbled back with it, twisting his body to shove the weight past him, but Dream was anticipating it. He quickly dropped his stance, grounding his centre of weight, before flinging his axe up in a wide swing that Techno just barely dodged out of the way of.

Techno cursed to himself. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have dodged that easily. Dream clearly realised it too.

The other man breathed in frustration, immediately returning to the attack with renewed vigour.

Techno quickly spun out of the way as the axe materialised where he had been standing moments before and relaxed into the movement, using the momentum to swing a hard strike towards Dream’s head. The man ducked, curving his strike back towards Techno. Techno hissed as the axe connected with his chest plate, the attack winding his already aching chest.

Dream became even more frenzied after that, swings becoming harder and faster, attacks sloppier and less controlled as his aggression bled into his movements. Despite this, Techno was just barely keeping up, blocks last minute and barely thought out. He knew he was missing blatant openings, Dream purposefully leaving them open for him to push back, but Techno was constantly on the defensive.

A particularly brutal swing just barely missed Techno’s head and Dream growled in frustration. “What is wrong with you?” The man pushed forward violently, cutting through Techno’s weak defence like it was nothing and swinging sharply down towards Techno’s ankles. The hit connected, and he grunted as pain whitened his vision. “Fucking fight back!” Each word was punctuated with a ruthless swing, blade sliding between the cracks in Techno’s armour and leaving him collapsing to the ground.

Techno stared up, eyes wide, as Dream raised his axe above his head. He grit his teeth, unwilling to show weakness in his final moments as the blade arced down, speeding towards his head.

He stared up in shock as Dream stopped, just barely, blade inches from his face. In the midst of the fighting Dream’s mask had come loose, swinging lightly by the side of his face, and Techno could see Dream’s luminous green eyes glaring down at him with absolute fury.

He watched, frozen, as Dream closed his eyes, taking a few calming breaths, and looked back down again with clearer eyes, flickering across his body. “What is it?” The words were a demand, not a question, and Techno bristled, indignant despite the weapon still poised above his head.

“What’s it to you,” he grunted, shoving the axe to the side and slumping backwards, bleeding joints no longer able to hold up his weight. Dream allowed the movement, stepping back up into a rest position and sheathing his weapon on his back.

Dream continued to stare blankly down at him and Techno huffed. It wouldn’t make a difference if he told him or not, but it was a matter of pride. Dream would see him as weak and he wouldn’t allow it.

Snap.

Techno cried out as his vision whited out with agony. Oh fuck – not now, not now. Heat burned through his chest and he screamed, another of the tethers of his soul ripping violently as it was stretched beyond its limits.

The sound cut off as he choked, struggling to flip over as blood began to fill his airways. He coughed into the grass, globs of red spraying across the ground as he hacked them out of his lungs. Oh God, this was worse than last time. There hadn’t been nearly as much blood.

He heaved as the fit finally passed, straining to push his body up. He was not going to collapse into his blood again. Not in front of Dream.

He leaned back as he finally got into a sitting position, allowing himself a brief moment of respite. Blood smeared across his chin as he half-assedly wiped it with his palm, arms shaking.

As he flicked his gaze up, he found Dream stood motionless, eyes dark and blank. Techno assumed he had initially startled back as his hand was still wrapped around the hilt of the axe behind him, seeming not to have realised he had even reached for it. Techno sighed. Might as well deal with this now.

He breathed out slowly and locked eyes with the other man.

“I’m dying, Dream.”

Dream’s eyebrows furrowed, green eyes narrowing as he finally let go of his weapon. The man took a step forward, towering over Techno’s hunched form. “So? You have two more lives. Just eat a God apple or something. I know you have one.”

Techno laughed bitterly. Trust the practically immortal man not to understand what he was saying. “I’m talking something that can bypass that.” Dream paused at that and if he didn’t know any better he’d say the other man almost looked panicked. As it was, a strange expression crossed his face.

“That’s not good.”

Techno shrugged, wincing as the movement pulled on his wounds. A hand appeared in front of his face and Techno allowed the freckled man to pull him to his feet, groaning as his muscles protested the movement.

Dream began to pack up in silence, shooting him glances every so often, and Techno could have laughed at the parallels between now and when they arrived if he wasn’t so worried about what Dream was thinking. While they were allies of sorts, in no way did Techno trust the other man and his odd reaction filled him with trepidation.

The other man slung him his bag, which he caught just barely, before stalking into the forest, not waiting to see if Techno was following. Techno glared weakly at the man’s back, reluctantly trailing him.

They walked in silence for a while, the now masked man slashing at any vegetation that got in their way and pausing every so often for Techno to catch up. Techno followed behind, gait slower than he would like, but pushing himself to remain rigid. He couldn’t allow Dream any more leeway.

“Why?” The break in silence startled Techno and a jolt of pain ran up his shoulder. He grit his teeth, annoyed as Dream just continued to walk on, not turning to look back once.

“You’re aware that I’m a piglin hybrid, right?” Dream tilted his head, and he took that as a motion to continue. “And that Wilbur’s my twin?”

Dream didn’t respond for a few moments, as if measuring his words. “I… had an idea.”

“Then you’re aware of soul bonds, right?”

That stopped him in his tracks. Dream finally looked back, the eyes of his mask meeting Techno’s blood red irises.

“You and Wilbur were soul bonded.” Dream spoke the words as if he were testing them on his tongue, tone strange. Techno nodded.

“Piglin twins are bonded from birth; it wasn’t a ritual or anything. I probably haven’t got long left.” Dream tensed and Techno got the feeling he didn’t like the sound of that, though the reason why was beyond him.

“Why has it taken so long to start breaking down?” As he spoke, Dream turned to continue walking. His pace was relaxed, but Techno could see the way his fists clenched periodically, giving him away. Techno wondered what his rival was thinking.

“It was after Wilbur disappeared – for good. Before it was just a dull ache when Wil was a ghost, but now the bond is pulling apart. It’s likely because he isn’t on this plane anymore.” Techno shrugged humorously, keeping his tone light. “I’ll be gone soon, so if you have any declarations of love for me, now’s the time.”

Dream laughed dryly, head tilted as if he was thinking something over. Dream finally turned and Techno had a bad feeling that he was smirking behind that mask.

“What if I said I have a proposition for you?”

Techno breathed out heavily, scrutinising the other man. Well, this wasn’t anything good. Soul bonds were, well, binding. There wasn’t much you could do once that bond started breaking down and Techno refused to let Dream take it away, if that was even a possibility. He’d rather die than lose his last link to Wilbur.

Techno inclined his head, waiting.

“What if I said I could bring back Wilbur?”

Techno froze, eyes wide. He could… there was no way. They’d tried everything. Surely he couldn’t – could he?

“Really?” He breathed.

Techno got the distinct feeling he was walking into a trap, but he didn’t care if it meant he could get Wilbur back. He’d do anything to get Wilbur back.

“Do you take me to be a liar, Technoblade? Of course I can.”

Techno almost laughed aloud, soul pulsing with euphoria, before logic kicked in, stopping him dead in his tracks. Techno swallowed, dread settling in his stomach. “What do you want?”

Dream paused and Techno knew that if he could see his face, it would be stretched into a grin. “Oh, Techno, you know me so well.”

Dream carried on walking and the hybrid followed warily, eyes trained uneasily on the back of his head.

It wasn’t until they reached the edge of the forest that Dream finally stopped, turning to face him with a stance suspiciously relaxed. Techno subtly held his breath, clenching his fists to hide the tremors running through them.

Dream positively glowed.

“All you’d have to do is owe me a favour.”

Shit. Shit. Techno felt as if his ears were ringing, sound muffled like he’d been dunked under water.

“After all, I would have saved your life again, would I not?”

Techno could hear the triumph in the other man’s voice and struggled not to grimace. He couldn’t imagine anything worse. Being indebted to Dream twice by life bind. He’d have no choice but to follow what Dream wanted, no matter how he felt about it, and there was no guarantee that Dream wouldn’t bring back Wilbur only to have Techno do something to him later down the line. Was it really worth it?

He jolted as Dream clapped a hand down onto his shoulder, body language smug. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to answer me now,” Dream laughed, the sound more mocking than anything else. “Just… think on it.”

He watched as Dream disappeared into the treeline, stomach twisting with anxiety.

Would it be worth it?

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fieryfafarfanfics · 7 years

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Reunion and Realization

Takumi wondered if he had gone blind from that terribly bright light. Eyes still squeezed shut, he slowly lowered his arms. Fujin Yumi still tight in his grasp, he prince exhaled through his mouth and shook his head lightly from the incoming headache. “Welcome, Takumi.” Immediately he snapped his eyes open at the voice.

And once he did, shock registered quickly into him to see a person cloaked in a robe of gold and white. The person flashed a smile, her left hand waving in his direction while her right holding some sort of weapon. Caution popped swiftly into his mind, Takumi tightened his hold on Fujin Yumi and almost positioned himself to attack. Kiran was faster to take notice. “Eh, eh!” Panic blooming in the summoner, she quickly raised both hands and levelled them near her head. “I’m not here to attack!” Dark brown eyes witnessed his gaze that fell to the Breidablik. “This won’t hurt anyone!” Shivers ran down her spine to spot a doubtful glare towards her. “I don’t even know how to fight!” God, if this kept on any longer, Kiran swore she was going to spout pathetic nonsense about herself. Thankfully, the last statement somewhat eased him from raising his Fujin Yumi any further. As humiliating as it was that that convinced him, Kiran was utterly relieved as well. “A-Anyways,” Coughing once into her left fist, she looked at the silently confused prince. “I’m Kiran, the summoner of this kingdom. And you’ve been summoned as a fellow Hero to help the people of Askr.” Though her face resonated serenity, Kiran was beyond thrilled and proud to have uttered the statements smoothly and clearly; obviously, saying those words in front of a mirror nearly every day was paying off. Silent still held the prince’s lips. But upon hearing her explanation, he slowly began to nod his head. “I…see.” Hazel eyes observed her from head to toe. Clearly she wasn’t a threat. Her smile was still genuine, gleaming even with cheeks dusted a slight red. Heat warming into his face as well at the former doubt, Takumi finally cocked a sincere smile of his own. “In that case,” Fuyin Yumi moved to his left hand, Takumi placed his right palm onto his heart, “let me introduce myself. I’m Takumi, a prince of Hoshido and wielder of the divine Fujin Yumi.” He lifted the weapon slightly. “Which…makes me pretty useful, I’d say.” The statement wasn’t meant to sound pitiful, but Kiran quickly bit back the frown that almost formed her pretty pink lips. “Thank you, Takumi.” She gave a single bow, then stood up properly with her smile still beaming like the sun. “You’re gonna be really helpful here. I just know it!” After their little introduction, the summoner then raised her right hand and popped her lips open to tell him about the castle and other facilities. “Kiran, where are you?” However, silence struck her next once that voice rang from outside the summoning chamber. Now, Kiran’s silence wasn’t because of her voice. Oh no, no. After almost a year, hearing her voice didn’t surprise her in the least. Hell, even if the princess roared violently into the sky, Kiran would just take it as casual noise. No. What brought her to silence was the complete bafflement that splashed Takumi’s face. “Kiran?” Without waiting for a response, Kamui entered the chamber. “Oh, there you are!” A smile curling at the corners to see the summoner, the princess happily approached her. “Ready to go to the market? I’ve been dying to see the little markets in Askr!” Slender hands casually held more delicate ones. “I heard from Sharena that they even have a stall that sells the most delicious pastries! I want to go try!” Kamui swore, any more excited than she was, a tail would surely pop out and wag ecstatically at the idea. That joy, however, dimmed to confusion when she saw Kiran’s lack of enthusiasm. “Kiran, what’s wrong?” Head tilted slightly, Kamui carefully waved one hand across the summoner’s face. “Kamui.” Confusion froze into pure shock once that voice – that lovely, lovely voice she’d missed so much – slipped into her ears. Crimson eyes as wide as they could be, Kamui quickly turned around. And when she did, by Gods, she had gasped so loud, both hands swiftly slapped to her gaping mouth. He’s here. He’s here, he’s here, he was finally here. Silence hanged heavily inside the chamber. One stared in complete disbelief and bafflement. One stared with breathing choppy and heartbeat manic inside a chest. While one stood from a few feet away, her steps slowly sliding backwards in order to give them a moment. But man, Kiran wanted so badly to watch this scene unfold without making it awkward for both of them. He still didn’t say a word. She still stood still as a statue. Suddenly, as silence still sang its hollow song, footsteps shattered the heavy air. Tap, tap, Takumi walked forward, hazel eyes focused on no one but the stunned dragon princess. Kamui. Her name chanted endlessly in his mind. Kamui, Kamui, Kamui, Kamui, Kamui, Kamui. Her name became a hypnotic mantra that haunted his thoughts. Tap. Clang! “Kamui…” Without a moment’s hesitance, Takumi pulled the baffled princess into a tight hug. Fujin Yumi unwarily dropped to the side, the prince nuzzled and nestled and kissed the left side of her head, her soft hair, her twitching ear. “Oh Gods, Kamui…” Eyes warmed with tears, Takumi squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his embrace. A short gasp escaped weakly through shaking lips once he felt her hands on his back. “Welcome home, Takumi…” Though a single tear trickled down flushed cheeks, he couldn’t help the laughter that had bubbled out of him. “I’m h-home…” Teeth chattered then clenched tightly, Takumi pressed a long, lingering kiss to the side of her head again. “I…I finally found you, dear.” Gods, how badly he missed her sweet, sweet laugh. “I’m sorry for being gone for so long, darling.” Head tipped comfortably on his left shoulder, Kamui slightly turned her head so that her lips pecked his ear. “But you found me!” Gods, how horribly he missed her adorably endearing personality. Again, shaky laughter popped out of his mouth. “Don’t e-ever—” He took a deep breath and slid his arms around her waist. “—leave me again.” And with that, Takumi easily lifted her up and twirled her around. Surprised by the sudden lift, Kamui then laughed louder and louder as she placed her hands on his shoulders. Tears and dignity be damned, Takumi took a deep breath before breaking out another shaky sob. Still, his smile stayed in place, never wavered, never gone now that she was finally in his arms. --- Kiran only watched the scene behind the other end of the door. Her jaw had gone a bit numb from all the smiling, but she couldn’t give a damn. It always brought her absolute joy to see couples being reunited. After all, it was partially her fault that these Heroes appeared without warning. The least she could do was hope for the best and summon their friends, families, or loved ones. “Kiran?” Speaking of loved ones. Quickly she turned around, her heart skipped a beat to see the Askarian prince. “Alfonse!” Eyes unblinking at the sudden visitor, Kiran quickly but carefully pressed the door closed behind her. “I—what’s up?” Oh dear Gods, she almost burst out a cackle to see him subconsciously looking up. Upon realizing that he was fooled by one of her metaphorical sentence – again – Alfonse closed his eyes and pursed his lips in pure shame. “I should’ve known better.” Masking his embarrassment with a single cough, the prince bit the insides of his lower lip and looked at the summoner. Gods, his teeth nipped harder to see that radiant smile. Unaware of the little emotional whirlwind he had caused her, Kiran gently tapped her chin. Laughter still rang inside the chamber. And as much as she wanted to show this moment of bliss to the prince, Kiran was pretty sure the two preferred some privacy after months of being separated from each other. Plus, she really didn’t want to know what it was like to piss off a powerful prince and a terrifying dragon. And with that, an idea beamed on top of her head. “Hey, Alfonse.” Slowly she approached him, her heart picking up its pace at every step. “Are you free today?” A single eyebrow was seen being raised and by Gods, he’s too cute! “I am.” Just by the sight of her smile alone, Alfonse could feel his lips curl so naturally at her presence. “Why?” She swore, her heart was about to burst out of her chest. “Do you want to accompany me to the market today?” She didn’t know what made her more nervous: the question or his shocked reaction. “I-I mean—!” Quickly she waved her hands, though voice still evened so that she wouldn’t startle the royal couple on the other side of the door. “I—Sharena said there’s this stall that has the best pastries and I’m really stoked to see the stuff they have!” Clap, her hands pressed together. “So, if you’re free today, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me for a bit—” “Of course.” Her mouth gaped to a stupor. “What?” Both hands lingered near her pressed lips to see his charming smile and dusted cheeks. “I—yes.” Again he answered, voice clear as day. “I would love y—to go with you!” His mouth was quicker, but Gods, his heart was now a violent tornado of hoping – terribly, badly, madly hoping – that she didn’t pick that up. To see the excited gleam in her eyes, Alfonse was beyond relieved. “Yay!” Unable to contain her thrill, Kiran clapped again and even bounced right in front of him. “Great! I’ll go get my tiny stash of coins in my bedroom and we’ll be ready to go!” Without waiting for a reaction, she dashed away and even hummed in glee at the moment of fun they were going to have. While she beamed in anticipation for the day, Alfonse only watched her in silence. In seconds, her figure disappeared from his line of sight. But by Gods, even if she wasn’t physically there, her image would always, always haunt his mind, day and night. His heart thumped just as madly when he remembered his humiliating mistake. “Gods…” Heat now burned to the ears, Alfonse cupped his face with both hands and even slowly, agonizingly stooped down to the ground. He had done it. He had done the one thing he swore himself to never do. Fingers parted away to see his right eye, Alfonse sighed bitterly as he gazed at the ground. He could still vividly see her smile. You’ve fallen in love with her… END

#Takumi #Kamui #Alfonse #Kiran #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Heroes #HE FINALLY CAME HOME YALLLLL #HE CAME HOME AND IM SO FUCKING!!! HAPPY!!!#IM SO HAPPY I WROTE A THING!!!#LMAOOOO!!#this was meant to be short BUT TAKUKAMU HAPPENED N ALSO!!! ALFOKIRAN!!! FUCK ME THE UP #oneshot #takukamu #kiralfonse

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