Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom

"I don't want to do this." Hazel eyes narrowed as bronzed hands clenched in frustration.

"How can you not want this Ziba? He's an artist." the younger girl shrunk back from Arezu, flinching from the anger in her voice.

"He is a monster."

"A monster would have killed the Khanum by now." The retort was sullen, uttered from someone unable to convey their opinions properly. Ziba sighed, taking on a distant look, attempting to look more mature and worldly.

"I will refuse." Arezu's eyes widened as her head snapped back to her friend.

"That's a death wish! If you refuse, he has the right to take you Ziba. Do you want that? And if he doesn't, the Shah will kill you." Ziba smiled wanly, patting her friends hand, chocolate eyes warm.

"Probably. But I will not touch that thing voluntarily." Azeru flinched, disconcerted by the tone and the words. She didn't want her friend to die. Didn't want her to be put in this position.

"What if we traded?" Ziba frowned, head cocking to the side, her silky tresses cascading over her shoulder.

"You mean I go to Nima and you go to it?" Arezu nodded fervently, hoping her friend went for it. "But didn't he choose you specifically?" She bit her lip, avoiding Ziba's gaze.

"I will go to Erik." Ziba hugged her friend, grateful to the older girl for taking her place. They broke apart, eyes wet with unshed tears. "Nima is a good man. He will treat you well."

"I wish I could say the same for you." Arezu shrugged, giving Ziba one last squeeze before following the guard to her husband. He was familiar to her, one she had spent many a day laughing with. He was not as sympathetic as she had anticipated though, ignoring her as if angry with her for some unknown reason. Or at least it would be unknown if she wasn't aware he hated Eric. Obviously her volunteering had put her in a less than worthy of conversation light to him. She sighed and trudged on, knowing her mild obsession for the mysterious magicioan and her love for her friend had just ostracized her.

The door was sealed, opulent like everything else in the palace. Arezu drew in a deep breath, nervously fixing the silk wrapped around her well shaped hips. Payam gave me a pitying look and opened the door, disregarding the fact that a conversation was obviously being held. Everything stopped as she entered the room, all eyes turning to her small form.

Her eyes landed on Erik, taking in his tense form and hungry gaze. A shiver of empowerment traveled down her spine as she realized that she was not completely without hold over him. She quickly glanced at the daroga before returning to Erik and smiled lightly.

"Bring her forward." His voice wasn't as beautiful as she remembered. More raw and grating. She shrugged out of Payam's grip and stepped towards him, gait steady and sensual as she was trained. "How old are you?" She blinked.

"Seventeen, master." Her voice sultry, eyes smoldering.

"And have you been told what you are to do?"

"Yes." He lifted his hand, pulling the veil off of her head to reveal her face. Her lips were slightly quirked, the red contrasting appealingly with her skin tone.

"Now that I have revealed your face, you may do the same for me." Her hands trembled minutely, reaching up to grasp the edges, he drew in a ragged breath and she pulled it off. It was worse than she imagined, his face. It seemed so unfair to her, such a beautiful mind and voice trapped in so hideous a body. And yet just, for if he were handsome, he would be perfect, no longer human. She blinked, fighting to keep from gasping. Arezu wasn't sure if her expression was disgusted or not, though she aimed for not.

"You may leave." With a brisk gesture, he motioned for the daroga and Payam to leave. Hazel eyes flickered to his long, dexterous fingers and she shuddered. He kept his gaze on her, burning into her. "What is your name?" Her smile returned, timid instead of confident as she tried to put both of them at ease.

"Arezu." She kept her gaze trained on his eyes, focusing on the gold flicked green instead of the unfortunate face. He nodded,and both stood there, her waiting for him, and he unsure how to proceed. She began to fidget under the intensity of his stare, hands pulling at each other. He noticed the movement, glancing down at them. He frowned inwardly, wishing he knew how to start the process. She seemed to realize his desperation, and gently caressed his face.

He trembled, nuzzling her apendage lightly. Her smile grew, and she placed her other hand over his heart. He followed her lead, cupping her face and tentatively wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her head tilted up, and his down. Her small smile encouraged him to close the distance and press his lips to hers, in an almost chaste brush.

They pulled apart and she gestured towards the bed. He inwardly gulped, but escorted her to the silken mattress. One hand reached up behind her, unclasping the hook at the base of her neck. The flimsy silk fell, revealing her soft curves to his hungry gaze. Feeling emboldened, she slid out of the skirt, leaving her completely bare, and sat on the bed, scooting back to the pillows and relaxing. Once positioned she crooked one finger at him in welcome.

He was completely still, taking in her naked form. Entranced by her ample curves, the bronzed skin and coffee tresses. He slowly knelt on the bed, crawling up to her. She was conflicted, repulsed and excited all at once. With shaking hands she undid the buttons on his shirt, breath held in anticipation and fear. His cloths came off easily, if awkwardly on his part, but soon both parties were nude,him hovering over her, she preparing her self for what was going to happen.

His hands trailed deftly from her neck to her pelvis, causing her to arch, and elicit a hiss from the man above her. She was putty in his hands as he explored her body, fingers tracing every dip and curve, memorizing her form with a sort of reverence. Writhing, she moaned, causing him to tremble. Taking his pause as an opportunity, she slip her nails up his abdomen, to his chest, and back down. He was still, unable to move as she stroked him. A small smile graced her lips before she cupped his cheek and kissed the other, laying back down and closing her eyes.

She was braced for the pain she knew was coming, and she wasn't disapointed. It was sharp, a stretching that tore at her as her body made to acomadate him. But as soon as he started to move it started to shift, the pain fading to a mixture of agony and bliss. She risked a look at him and quickly squeezed her eyes closed before he noticed. He was totally preoccupied with the sensations he was feeling. The pure pleasure coursing through him because of this one act he thought he would never experience.

One look at her squirming in obvious rapture was all it took to send him over the edge. He collapsed beside her, breathing labored. She snuggled into his side and sighed, closing her ees and instantly finding sleep. He soon followed.

0-0-0

Erik woke to the feel of a woman snuggling into his chest. He bolted up, assessing the situation only to find the girl from last night in a peaceful slumber beside him. She mumbled, missing his warmth, but shifted into the covers. His hand trembled as he stretched it out to brush the coffee waves out of her face. She smiled and sighed, content to remain oblivious to the world.

He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity before deciding to leave the room and request breakfast. As soon as the door closed Arezu opened her eyes and sighed, wishing he had just gone back to sleep. She slumped dejectedly, rolling over in defeat. Last night had been... bearable. Perhaps such an adjective was offensive to anyone else, but considering the circumstances, she felt it adequate.

He had been gentle, his fingers setting her on fire. But her was still Erik, the feared Angel of Death, harbinger of torture, monster for the Shah and Khamun. And oh so tender this morning as he brushed away her hair. She blushed, pushing herself out of bed to get dressed.

Sadly all that was available were the clothes from last night. She sighed resignedly, slipping the silver halter around her neck and wrapping the red silk around her hips. There was no mirror, so she wasn't quite sure what state her hair and makeup were in, but decided it really didn't matter. She stepped out of the room tentatively, unsure what to expect of the contradictory man.

He was sitting at a table, hunched over, and doing something with a pen. Cautiously, she approached him, not wanting to disturb him, but curious as to what he was doing. He turned as she neared him, standing abruptly.

"Good morning Mademoiselle." He was cordial, if fidgety in her opinion, but she disregarded it, bowing in respect.

"Good morning, master." He frowned, up set with his title.

"You may call me Erik." She rose, eyes disbelieving.

"Thank you... Eric." A smile played on her lips as her stomach growled. She blushed, turning away as he inwardly sweat dropped.

"I sent for breakfast a few seconds ago, it should be here any second..." He was anxious, unsure how to deal with a girl, and she found it utterly adorable if a bit disconcerting. Smiling reassuringly, she sat at what she supposed to be the dinning table, awaiting the promised food. He was still at a loss, deciding to join her and hope it went over well.

She didn't mind, simply stared out the window, attempting to look beautiful, even without a mirror to asses the damage done from last night. It was painfully awkward, and Arezu desperately wished her would start at least some sort of conversation, but he just sat there. It became unbearable, so flinging protocol aside, she spoke first.

"What is it you were working on, ma- Erik?" He blinked, then a type of animation over took him as he began to explain.

"Just putting the finishing touched on my design for the Shah's palace. The pompous idiot commissioned another secret passageway, and it is a miracle I haven't strangled him yet." He was saying to much, he knew that. But he was grasping for something to say to ease the mood. She giggled though, finding his depiction of the Shah amusing.

"He is rather... sheltered." He snorted at her mild rebuke.

"More like an ignorant and petulant child." She covered her mouth this time as her laughter trilled, filling him with the urge to join her. That of course was when Nadir decided to join them.

"Erik, may I come in?" He grunted, a sort of confirmation, and Nadir entered, looking at Arezu in speculation. "So this is your bride?" She averted her eyes, wishing she had worn her veil. While a naked face in front of Erik was okay, his friend was another matter entirely.

"If you'll excuse me", She stood, dashing back to the room to find the missing garment. Erik looked after her, frowning slightly.

"Yes, she's my bride." It was amazing to him, the willingness with which she lay with him. For the first time in his life, he felt accepted. He wasn't dumb enough to believe she could love him, but she could tolerate him, a feat he had not thought any woman could perform.

"She is lovely." He knew it was a complement, but a sort of possessiveness coursed through him, making him less than cordial towards the daroga. She walked out, cautious because of the company.

"Daroga." She bowed, showing him the respect due to his royal blood, and turned to smile at Erik wearily. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting visitors so... early." He smirked, glad she found his presence as annoying as he did at this moment.

"It is fine, please sit, the breakfast should be here..." As if on cue the door was once again knocked upon. "Come in." Servants carried trays of flat breads, butter, tabrizi and feta cheese, whipped cream, and a variety of jams. She stared at the plethora of treats, mouth watering. It took all she had not to rip into the food, but she waited for Erik to eat first. He just looked at her expectantly, wondering why she wasn't eating. It hit him when Nadir cleared his throat. They had trained her to wait for her master.

"You may eat, I am not hungry." She nodded, a weak smile on her lips as she helped herself. "Now Nadir, what is it you need?" Nadir blinked, looking at Erik and sighing.

"The Khamun has invited you to the execution of one of the gardeners. Gulzar, he ruined one of her favorite rose bushes. Erik scoffed.

"And why would I want to attend that?" Arezu chuckled at his incredulous tone, causing both men to glance at her. She pretended not to notice their stares, continuing to eat.

"Perhaps your bride would like to attend." Erik was doubtful of that, finding her to be far to delicate for such atrocities. She, however cocked her head, causing him to sigh in resignation.

"Perhaps it would behoove us to indulge this request." Nadir nodded, deciding it was probably was best to leave the couple. As soon as he left Arezu removed the cumbersome veil and really began to dig into the dishes.

"Are you sure you don't want any?" He nodded, seating himself across from her to follow her movements. A blush dusted across her cheeks at his intensity. "Um... what happens at an execution?" He blinked, thinking that she was jesting.

"Surely you've been to one." She shook her head.

"No, my mother always found them in bad taste, and forbid me to go." He snorted and she sighed, eating more bread.

"We will have to retrieve the rest of your wardrobe, after that I believe it should be time to make our way down." She nodded, slipping the veil back on and rising. He stood as well, motioning for her to move towards the door. "After you."

It was a quick walk to the harem, and an even faster removal of her clothes. They were just about to leave when Ziba walked through the door, gasping as she saw who was in there. Both turned to see her huddled against the wall, absolutely terrified. Erics hands clenched, bringing Arezu's focus to him. Without thinking, she grabbed his strained appendage, clasping it in hers.

"That's all I need Erik, let's go so I can change." He turned to her, a pained look in his eyes. She squeezed his hand and he relaxed, nodding and briskly exiting the room she used to share with her best friend. She did not remove her hand till they arrived in his suite, taking the clothes to the closet. He sat on the bed, frowning in contemplation as she arranged the fabric, wishing he would say something to break the silence.

"I am sorry for her behavior." He blinked up at her, confused at first. "It was rude and uncalled for."

"I am quite used to it." Her lips pursed.

"But you shouldn't be. You are far to kind." He snorted derisively.

"That is a word that has never been used to describe me." Her gaze dropped.

"You were more than kind to me last night."

"I stole your innocence."

"I gave you myself. And you treated me with respect. Most men would not have been so gentle." He just turned away from her, focusing on some place on the wall, leaving her frustrated. She wasn't sure how to alleviate the mood, but decided it best to change. She contemplated exiting the room, but decided that it might be best to just do it here.

So she dropped her clothes to the ground, acting natural as she rumaged for another out fit. A hiss escaped his lips at her maked form. One second he was sitting, the next standing behind her, arms around her waist.

"Why do you tempt me, mon amant doux petit?" She sighed, leaning against him, ignoring the chill of his arms.

"Will you teach me french Erik?" He trailed tender kisses down her neck, making her shudder.

"Of course, peu d'amor."

"Then what did you call me?" He nuzzled her pulse, eliciting a groan.

"Nothing, mon trésor parfait." She smiled, pulling away from him slowly.

"After the execution. And then my french lessons." He was left bereft as she slid a voluminous skirt and flimsy top on. She sighed, grabbed his hand once more, and began to guide him to the door. He followed her in a near trance, totally content.