Annnnnnnd we're back with authoress Haleybob and my silent and sarcastic muse, Erik! Amazing, actually...to be back in the story of my first written AND completed phan fiction! Sheesh, time didn't fly too much before a sequel was requested (thank you! It was flattered!) and my brain started chugging with new ideas! Frankly, I didn't plan to but then, as Jimmy Neturon would say: "Brain blast!" I was off! If you're new to this story, um, you need to read the first one Winter's Lark before reading this little beauty! Sorry, but that's the way it works here!
Erik: You're babbling, again. I think the readers would appreciate you moving on instead of rabbling your incorherent speech. If they do not mind reading it...I would like you to get a move on!!
Okay! Okay! Sheesh... That kind of hurt BUT I will get a move on! Here we are...(takes deep breath) Here we go!
DISCLAIMER: I never owned Phantom! But I DO own my own characters! (happy squee!)
Part One:
"It doesn't seem too bad." A young girl with dark blonde hair stood swaying gently in the breeze, her usually sea-green eyes closed against the world. Her companion, a tall, skeletally thin, rather ominous looking man in a plain white face mask snorted dubiously. "Oh, and you would know, hm?" She turned to him, eyes slowly opening to reveal fogged, glassy eyes. She was blind. "Oh, ha, ha, Erik." She smiled, rolling her eyes. "That's mean, poking fun at a blind girl." They stood comfortably in the front yard of a rather long cottage with its shutters peeling of their paint coats and hanging off their hinges. The rest of it was rather shabby and the yard seemed more like a safari with the long, softly browning grass and large oak tree shading the rest of the house. "Technically speaking, you are not such a girl anymore. More of a young woman, yes?" The man, Erik, observed the house with distaste as the female rolled her misty eyes again. He had thought it would be in better condition if it had been in the girl's mother's will. "I have only two words to say, Lark." He said, scowling. She glanced in the direction of his voice with curiosity.
"What is that?" Lark asked mildly though she had a pretty good, or bad, feeling about what he was going to say. Erik huffed and turned his back on the cottage. "We're leaving. Get back in the carriage." He started heading off, the smooth dirt path crunching under his feet. The girl heaved a sigh and reached out expertly and managed to seize a handful of Erik's dark cloak. "Oh, no you don't." she said warningly, pulling him back. "We are going to make this work." The man, irritated that he had been led back like some sort of bad puppy, scowled more under his mask and snorted. "How do you intend to do that?" He asked, annoyed. "You obviously can't work…" Here Lark winced, it was true. "And I am in no mood to start decorating a house by myself." He finished. With another glance at the yard he added quickly. "Or ever." Lark crossed her arms and looked helplessly around, once Erik said he wasn't going to do something it was an immense pain to persuade him otherwise. "Couldn't we hire people to work?" she asked, biting her lip. "Let's just go in, see how it looks!" Erik glanced at her through his mask's eyeholes. "…Well, you'll see how it is." She amended.
Erik snorted again and unwillingly prodded Lark in the right direction, keeping an eye on her so she wouldn't trip as they moseyed around the yard to the front door. With a face, Erik approached the peeling door, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to prevent her from running into him or the door itself. "Fine," he groaned, "we go in, have a look around, then leave, alright?" Lark scowled, an interesting look on such a young innocent face. "No, we see how badly we need workers. Then we can leave." Erik wished she could see him roll his eyes at her but his hand turned the old, rather stylish doorknob. He noticed, as the door creaked open, that the door knocker was a roaring dragon with a rose clutched in its fangs. Unusual, he thought, but not unwanted. Lark took in a breath and was startled by the familiar scent. "Oh!" She wavered on the doorstep and would have fallen if Erik did not steady her. "What is it?" He asked, forgetting to look inside the house as he peered at her concerned. She shook her head and gasped out. "It…and this may sound odd, but it…it's just like Mama and mine old house! The scent!"
"Ah." Erik never understood why she was so taken by a simple scent but then…she used all other senses to help her in her blindness. Curious he helped Lark into the house and took a long look around and was surprised. "Not bad!" he slipped out accidentally. The house inside was much better taken care of than the outside had been. Smooth, dark green patterned wallpaper made out the entry hall which led to an equally green sitting room. Furniture was covered in clean white sheets, looking like ghosts in a dark forest. Smaller sheets also covered both large and small pictures that hung, besides the sheets on them, rather becomingly on the walls. A large fireplace was placed to the far left with a covered something on its mahogany ledge. More doors led to supposedly other rooms and an open doorway to the right led to a lighter, blue kitchen with dark cabinets that matched the table inside with three or four chairs grouped around it.
"The air isn't dusty…is it clean, Erik?" Lark chirped, a warm feeling filling her as she reached for his hand. He let her take it and scowled around at the comfortable house. "Yes. It is fine on the inside…Looks like a wreck from the outside of course." Her face lit up, his sarcasm and inflexibility something she was used to. "Does that mean…?" she said excitedly, leaning forward anxious to put the house into her 'memory'. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, grinding his teeth. "Yes. Yes, we're…staying." Lark let out an ecstatic cry and let go of his hand and felt her way carefully until she bumped into the nearest bookshelf. Erik winced but watched with amusement as the girl carefully felt it and took steps back and forth, measuring the distance and then setting off to fall over the sofa once she got the bookshelf in her mind. He walked over to her, smirking to himself as she tried to disentangle herself from the white sheet. "So this is how it goes?" He asked casually, leaning against the back of the divan. "You bump into everything then never do it again?"
Lark managed to free herself and plopped down to the ground with a bump. "Ouch…" she rubbed her head a little but nodded all the same. "This is how it's done most of the time." she admitted, getting up and sprawling in another direction. Erik sighed then with a cry, lunged to seize her around the waist as she nearly tumbled headfirst into the fireplace ledge. "Damn it, be careful!" He growled, straightening her up. Lark's eyes were as wide as teacup saucers. "Oh, oh, that was close." She gasped, pressing a hand to her fluttering heart. "What was I going to hit?" Erik glowered and grasped her hand, pressing it against the hard fireplace ledge where she had nearly impaled herself on. The color drained out of her face and she gave him a weak smile. "Good thing you're here, huh, Erik?" He sighed and ran a hand over his mask, it was rubbing again. "You are very lucky I am here." He replied, steering her to the now half covered chair. "Why don't you try another way besides bumping into things?"
She shifted to get comfortable and moaned a little. "I would have to use your help, though!" she said guiltily, "And I know you've been wanting to get back to your music." This was true as Erik had spent most of the trip handing Lark the reins to scribble a few more note heads on his work before snatching them back before they could crash. He winced at the memory of a particularly close miss of an old man with his wife. Erik hadn't known that people that age could curse so much! Still, he spared a glance at Lark. Her face was creased with worry but her eyes were so blank and empty. "No, I would help." He said. Her face started to brighten again. "But only when the Bair's come." He finished. If there was something wrong, there would be more people to help. Plus, mademoiselle Rachel would love to help out Lark and save him some trouble. Lark seemed to recognize this and she laughed. "Alright, fair enough." She said, giggling. Erik was about to smile when the doorknocker gave out a sharp rap, rap, rap. Someone was at the door.
Well hope the beginning is to your alls taste! I was quite happy with it but...whadda think???