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This is the sequel to The Quest and takes up the morning after the last chapter of The Quest left off, so think of it more as "Part II" :)

Morning Song

Chapter I

How beautiful you are and how pleasing, O love, with your delights! Your stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit. I said, "I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit." May your breasts be like the clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine.
Song of Solomon

Music expresses feeling and thought, without language; it was below and before speech, and it is above and beyond all words.
Robert G. Ingersoll

xXx

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(Seville, Spain 1871: during the festival of La Feria de Sevilla)

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Before Christine remembered, she felt.

Indescribable pleasure relaxed every part of her being as though she had been covered in a blanket of soft contentment. As she fully woke to the sound of revelers stirring outside on the streets of the festive city, she wished to banish the dawn and let it forever remain night. Oh, that the stars could lay continual claim to the heavens, so that she could lie with her love in their own Eden, veiled from the intrusive world for all eternity!

Her body lay entwined in warmth, her cheek cradled against it. She lifted her head from her pillow of his chest and looked down upon the sleeping form of her husband. The glow of predawn illumined the walls of the tent, giving her dim light by which to see.

In slumber, the planes of his face were peaceful, beautiful, even the twisted side appeared somehow smoother, and he resembled the Angel that she so often called him. She now knew why he had remained firm in his resolve during their journey these past weeks when passion's flame had ignited between them, and gratitude humbled her. Once, she did not understand why he drew back. Last night he had taught her. Unsullied by guilt, they had come together in an offering of love, so sweet yet powerful, tears had run from their eyes. A moment's discomfort had not dampened the ecstasy of their union and hours later, when they awoke in the warmth of the velvet night and reached for one another again, she felt no pain. Nor had there been any awkwardness. Christine smiled in bashful recollection of the many marvels the night had held.

He had been gentle, yet passionate, what she'd always hoped for but more than she'd ever dreamed. An incredible paradise found within her lover's arms...and hers to visit and feast upon whenever she desired.

Blushing at the memory of the intensity of their lovemaking and her responses to him, hesitant at so new a tune taught her, yet bold with the desire to experience it again and learn it well, she ran her fingertips over Erik's lean muscled arm and shoulder. Overwhelmed with love for him, she sang into his mind, using her own words to the melody he crooned to her the night before.

Never once did I imagine ... never once could I have dreamed ... the truth we've found here, beloved ... my Angel, my King ...

She pressed her lips to his warm skin where her head recently lay, allowing her kiss to linger in the dusting of hair clustered there. Her fingers reveled in a slow, feather-light path over the hard planes of his abdomen and stomach.

A thousand words cannot be sung ... nor a thousand lines expressed ... to describe the matchless joy in your arms ... and my sweet Music's caress ...

The Treasure *Phantom of the Opera* (sequel to The Quest)Where stories live. Discover now