A/N: Well, finally, here is the finale! Sorry it's so short, but I couldn't think of any other way to end this. Thank you to everyone who has read this, and great thanks to all who reviewed!
Calliope froze in Erik's arms, feeling her blood freeze in her veins. She turned and looked up at her fiancée, fear in her eyes.
"They've found me Erik. What are we going to do? I can't lose you again, my heart could not bear it." she cried, tears filling her eyes. Erik reached out and caressed the side of her face, determination hard in his eyes.
"Do not worry, mon amour. All the armies of the world cannot take you from me again." he declared.
"What shall I tell the managers? They are going to send Mama to fetch you." Meg asked, her tone frantic. Erik took Calliope's hand.
"We will flee. Wherever you wish to go, my love. When it is safe, we will return." he said.
"I will tell the managers you have already left. They all know you were planning on leaving after the performance, so it will not be a great surprise." Christine said. Calliope looked at her friend and pulled her into a tight hug.
"Thank you, rossignol. I will be back, I promise." she said, and Christine smiled, pressing a kiss to the woman's cheek.
"Good luck to you both." she replied. Raoul pulled the soprano toward the door.
"I will have a carriage meet you at the rear of the theatre in an hour. Good luck, mon ami." he said, and the young couple departed. Calliope and Erik turned to the mirror, and Erik opened the secret door, holding out his hand to lead her through the door.
"Can we go to Italy? Papa used to tell me the most wonderful stories about Rome." she said, and Erik smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips.
"Of course. And then, we will go to Greece, and you can see the temples of your namesake. For you will always be Calliope to me." he replied. Just as they made to step into the tunnel, the main door burst open, and an older man wearing Persian clothes burst in, his eyes locking onto Calliope, before dropping to his knees before her.
"Princess Amira! Thank Allah you are safe! Who are these men who have stolen you from your home?" he demanded, standing swiftly and reaching for his sword. Erik made to throw his Punjab lasso before Calliope grabbed his arm.
"Enough Rashad! I was not kidnapped! Emir Rosan's men snatched me from my home the night my mother died. When I escaped his clutches I fled to Paris. I am here of my own volition, and I am now leaving by my own will with my fiancée." she snapped, her voice growing cold and commanding. Erik turned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a show of support and possessiveness. Rashad looked from Erik to Calliope in surprise.
"You are to be married?" he asked, as if not believing his ears. She nodded, clutching at Erik's arm.
"Yes. I will not return home, not after what that man and his advisors did to me." she replied, and Rashad's eyes widened in anger.
"What did they do? I would behead them myself if they yet lived." he roared, and it was Calliope's turn to blink in surprise.
"I knew Rosan was dead, but I was unaware that his advisors had perished." she said cautiously. Rashad nodded vigorously.
"His advisors attempted to overthrow your grandfather. They were executed for treason." he explained. Calliope sagged against Erik in relief.
"Why are you in Paris?" she asked, feeling Erik's arm slide around her waist. She knew he was prepared to disappear down the tunnels, and she was ready to follow him if Rashad made to take her away.
"I am here as an emissary, and I was invited to the opera. I must say princess, you still dance superbly." he said. Calliope tightened her grip on Erik's hand, her weight shifting ever so slightly towards the mirror.
"And now that you have found me here?" she asked, catching Madame Giry's eye and gesturing ever so slightly at the mirror. Madame gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
"I will take you home to your grandfather of course. You are still the next in line for the throne." he replied. Calliope shook her head, taking a small step closer to the tunnel.
"No, Rashad, I will not be returning to Persia. Do you honestly think that the people would accept a half breed woman as their ruler? Tell Grandfather that I am happy, and I have found a man who loves me as my father loved my mother." she declared. The Persian stood straighter, his eyes snapping with anger.
"Princess you may be, but you must still abide by your grandfather's wishes." he snapped. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, two things happened at once. Madame Giry stuck her cane in front of the man's foot, causing him to trip as he reached for the costume mistress, and Erik pulled her into the tunnel, sealing the door behind them. The pair raced through the tunnels, her hand held tightly in his. Once they reached his lair, Erik headed to a small room of to the side, where he picked up several satchels.
"What's all this?" she asked. He looked up and smiled at her.
"I have been getting a salary from the managers of my opera house for several years. I have collected quite a large savings." he replied, and Calliope grinned, following him up another tunnel.
"I love you, my darling." she said, as she followed closely behind him. His silky chuckle trailed back to her.
"The first thing we will do once we are safely away from Paris is select a ring fit for your hand, ma chere." he said, setting the bags near the hidden door to the alley behind the theatre. She smiled widely as she slipped her arms around his waist. He turned back and kissed her deeply.
"What did I do to deserve you?" she whispered. Erik gazed lovingly down into her face, brushing her hair back from her face.
"The real question is how did I ever gain the love of such a goddess?" he replied. She smiled warmly up at him.
"You have my love for the same reason I have yours. You look beyond the surface." she said. Erik laughed gently and glanced through the hidden door. After a moment, he pulled the door open and carried the satchels to the carriage before taking Calliope by the hand and helping her into the carriage. Once she was safely inside, he turned to the edge of the theatre.
"I am in your debt, Vicompt. We will send word once we reach Italy." he called. Calliope leaned out of the carriage and waved to her dearest friend.
"Adieu Rossignol! I will miss you!" she called.
"Adieu Roux! Good luck to you both!" Christine called back. Erik and Calliope settled back into the carriage as it headed down the road, their hands interlaced.
"Christine got your chest from your rooms and packed it in your things. We make for Marseilles, and from there we will head for Rome by train." Erik said, drawing her into his arms. She settled her head onto his shoulder, smiling.
"That would be wonderful. Erik, could we get married in Marseilles? I don't want to wait any longer." she asked. When she looked up at him, he was smiling widely at her.
"Your wish is my command, my love." he replied, bowing his head to meet her lips.
Ten years later
"Selene, Henri! Come down here, we are going to be late!" Erik called, holding his hat in one hand. A thundering of small feet preceded the two children, who hurried down the stairs to stand at their father's feet. Selene and Henri Deveroux were always extremely well behaved if it meant they could accompany their parents to the opera house. Erik looked the children over, adjusting Henri's tie and brushing a lock of Selene's hair back into place. He glanced up the stairs and froze, his mouth hanging open slightly. Calliope sailed down to stand next to her husband, a vision in a gown of deep purple, with ropes of black pearls woven through her hair. She smiled at Erik before reaching over and tapping his chin with her fan.
"Now you are making us late, mi amour." she teased, and Erik slid an arm around her waist, bringing his lips to hers as the two children protested.
"You are a vision, my muse." he whispered, leading his family out to the waiting carriage. The children sat calmly in their seat the whole way to the Opera Populaire, and obediently waited until their father had stepped out and taken their mother's hand before taking their own turn to exit the carriage. The four of them made their way into the grand foyer of the opera house, and were led to their seats.
As they watched the performance, Erik found his gaze returning to his lovely wife. Even after ten years, he was amazed at his good fortune. He and Calliope had traveled all of Europe after leaving Paris that fateful night, and in the end, the pair had traveled to Persia so Calliope could make amends with her grandfather. Much to Erik's surprise, the sultan was overjoyed at learning that his only granddaughter was happily married, and had warmly welcomed the former Phantom to the family. Abdul Jahad was a very understanding man, and while he lamented the fact that Calliope would not stay, he wished them well, and gifted them with enough riches to secure a suitable home in Paris for their family. When Calliope had protested that it was only the two of them, the jolly sultan had simply smiled. Not long after, Calliope learned she was expecting. Erik still claimed that her grandfather was a soothsayer, much to his wife's amusement.
Little Selene looked so much like her mother, her hair just a shade or two lighter, but her eyes were her father's, brilliant emeralds against her slightly tanned skin. Two years later, Henri had been born. The young boy had his fathers dark hair, but his eyes were a deep sapphire. Both children had already shown a natural talent for music, and Selene loved to paint, their playroom covered in her drawings. As the curtain closed on the performers, Erik realized that he had barely paid attention to the opera, he was so lost in his memories.
"Erik, darling, are you alright?" Calliope asked, concern evident on her face. He smiled warmly, lacing his fingers through hers.
"Everything is wonderful. I was just thinking, perhaps we should consider taking a trip to your homeland. I know that your grandfather would love to see the children." he said. Calliope smiled and stood, looking down at her smiling children as they chattered to themselves about the opera.
"I think that would be wonderful." she said, pressing her lips to his.