Author's Note: Nothing much to say here, other than the traditions "I don't own anything" speech. This was one of those "oh-god-have-to-write-everything-in-one-go-or-I'll-forget-it-all" chapters, and you'll see why later.

I'm glad people had a positive reaction to Changeling!Erik. That was one of those gray areas, kind of like the talking Ayesha.

But c'mon, it's Erik with wings. What's not to love?

Once again, a million thanks and a box of cookies to my beta, OritPetra.

Interlude Two

The Scorpion's Lair

Ayesha made her way stealthily down the palace hallways, her keen cat's vision cutting through the darkness as though it had been daylight. No one passing her way paid even a second glance at the feline. There were more than enough cats around the palace, mostly belonging to the shah. Even the diamond collar around her slim throat – the very same one Erik had taken from another cat – did not earn a second glance.

Earlier that evening, Ayesha felt an uneasy prickle down her spine, making all the fine, creamy hairs long her back stand on end. Something was not right, and it involved Erik. Being able to sense her master's distress was a sixth sense of sorts that all cats possessed. Erik was upset about something…very upset, and confused…and Ayesha was determined to find out what it was.

Of course, her first intuition pointed straight to that girl.

Without waiting for Erik to return, Ayesha slipped from the chambers. Even with the doors shut and bolted, there was still more than one way to get out if needed. Erik had seen to that almost as soon as they arrived in the palace of Mazanderan, feeling strongly that there would be a time that they would need the escape. She was not prowling down the hallways, passing through pools of light from the torches burning on the wall, making her way towards the East Tower. The moon was nearly full, and she knew that exactly where Erik would be. Although she knew her master preferred the darkness, he had always been fond of the moonlight. Erik had a special talent for the night magic that most magicians would never dare to touch, and the nights of the nearly full moon were the best times to harness it.

There was usually the utmost aura of peace and serenity that surrounded Erik on nights like this. What could have possibly happened to upset him so much?

Movement down at the end of the hall caught Ayesha's attention. She crouched low to the ground, all her senses at full attention. Whoever it was certainly was not Erik, nor was it a complete stranger. No, this is someone who she met before…

The figure walking down the hall stepped into a patch of silvery moonlight that filtered from in between two pillars, and Ayesha saw with a note of agitation than it was none other than Erik's ward. The moonlight was clearly shimmering off the tracks of tears that marred her face. For the briefest moment, Ayesha felt a thrill of hope. Did she have a chance encounter with Erik, seeing that she did not arrive in their chambers that night, and it turned out badly? Had Erik dismissed her as his student? It was almost too much to ask…

Smirking to herself, Ayesha lifted herself back up and trotted to the closest moonbeam, making herself well seen to the girl's inferior vision. "Why the tears, girl?" Ayesha asked, making no attempt to mock compassion or concern.

Christine's head snapped up in surprise at the cat's voice, but as soon as her dark eyes fell on Ayesha, she scowled deeply, her sorrow instantly forgotten for the time being. "What do you want?" she demanded.

"Where is Erik?" The cat demanded back, her tone as cold and unyielding as steel.

"How should I know? You're his nanny, you should be keeping better track of him."

The cat hissed. "Don't toy with me, stupid girl! I know you were with him, I can smell him on you. What have you done to him to make him so upset?"

Christine was taken slightly aback by Ayesha's question, but she feigned ignorance all the same. "That's none of your business."

Ayesha arched her back, her hackles on end. "Stupid, stubborn girl! I should tear your face to ribbons for lying to me! I know it was you that put him in a sour mood! I warned him to stay away from you, but you stupid girls are all the same! You care of nothing but yourselves!"

The girl proved to be faster than she looked. Before Ayesha had the chance to respond, even with reflexes as superior as her own, Christine had lunged forward and seized the cat by the scruff of her neck, lifting her clean off the ground so they were looking at each other eye-to-eye. "I should just toss you in a fountain, you horrid thing."

Ayesha's blue eyes widened in fury. "You wouldn't dare! Erik would expel you from his teachings if you did such a thing! He told you that himself!"

For a moment, it looked like Christine would carry out her threat anyway, but instead she sighed, and to Ayesha's silent relief, dropped the cat back to the ground. Ayesha quickly leapt back from the girl, and well out of arm's reach, careful not to let her guard down again. Christine was muttering to herself, speaking so softly that not even the cat could understand her.

"What did you say?"

"That's none of your business. I don't see why I should divulge with someone who eats bugs as a pastime."

Ayesha growled, but did not retort. Instead, she only pressed with her original question. "What did you do to Erik?"

"I did nothing!" Christine snapped, clearly flustered. She drew a breath, calming herself. "I saw his wings tonight, are you happy? Nadir sent me up to the East Tower… I didn't mean to sneak up on him, nor did I think that he would be so upset by it. But he left…he left before I had a chance to tell him that I wasn't afraid of them…"

"The wings are mere child's play. The only reason why no one here knows he is a changeling is because of their inane superstitions. You would have been more of a fool than I would have expected if you feared something as insignificant as his wings." Ayesha flipped her tail, looking up at Christine with those steel-blue eyes. "Erik has been hurt, far too hurt in his past to allow himself to trust many people. Why he's putting so much false hope into you is beyond me. I told him – told him many times not to get involved with your scheming ways."

"How dare you! I would never scheme against him…"

"Young girls are all the same!" Ayesha snapped. "I've seen how you look at that mask during the lessons. How many times have you thought of removing it, girl? How often do you fantasize about what lies beneath it? I'll warn you now, your false pure intentions could never possibly prepare you for the truth, and not even Erik would trust you so much to let you see beyond that mask."

Ayesha's words seemed to have struck a nerve, just as she was hoping. Christine's mouth moved a few times in silence before any words came out. "And…and what does it matter what he looks like underneath his mask? It doesn't change who he is…it won't change the fact that he's still Erik…"

"That's what Luciana said." Ayesha replied.

Before Christine had the chance to question Ayesha's remark, the cat flipped up her tail and disappeared into the darkness.

Of all the hundreds of rooms and chambers within the palace of Mazanderan, nor was as sinister or as forbidden as the personal chambers of the khanum herself. This was the place of the darkest conspiracies and the deadliest of schemes in all of Persia, yet very few were given the honor to see the chamber and its reinging monarch, the all-powerful mother of the shah. All throughout the kingdom the people spoke of her in no more than hushed whispers of the highest respect, and the stories of her great and terrible deeds were enough to frighten children and adults alike. If you were ever summoned to the khanum's presence, it was only for one of two reasons. It was of the greatest sign of honor, or it was to receive your own death.

Even now, Erik was not sure which option was waiting for him each time he was summoned to the woman's chambers.

The vast room was shrouded in a thick haze of incense smoke and long, gauzy curtains that gave it the very surreal, dream-like state that the khanum seemed to enjoy the most. Servants and harem girls moved about like ghosts, making naught a sound as to disturb the woman who was, at the time, lounging on her stomach on her nest of silk and satin pillows, trailing her fingers along the rim of a crystal goblet full of some deep red liquid. The khanum's beauty was unparalleled within her kingdom, her deep olive skin gleaming in the dim light of her chambers, her luxurious black hair falling down her back and arms like a silken cloak, her eyes as black as a moonless night. She was a majestic, strong woman, as beautiful as a swan, but as deadly as a cobra.

A black widow, Erik thought to himself. That's what she reminds me of. She would soon as kiss a man as she would kill him.

Erik stood at rigid attention before the khanum's mountain of pillows, waiting for her to speak first, for her to tell him why she wanted to see him. He doubted that she had anything important to say. She was more than likely bored…again…and merely wanted to harass him for her own enjoyment. Had Erik been in the presence of anyone else, he would have never shown such respect. To him, titles of royalty and the oh-so-sacred blueblood lines meant nothing to him. Killing a king was no more difficult than killing a thug, but he could not risk to take that chance with the khanum. Not when so much was at stake…

"So, Erik…" The khanum purred, not so much as lifting her eyes at him as she spoke. Her voice was like honey and poison. "I understand that you have a made a new friend. One of the daughter's of my son's trade partner from your country. Is this true?"

Erik drew a silent breath, choosing his words carefully. This was exactly what he had been afraid would happen. It was more than likely that a member of the Mazanderan court saw Christine making her nightly journey to his chambers. He had, of course, dreaded the khanum discovering this, but at least he knew how to keep the woman sated, even in her foulest of moods. It was the Grand Vizier he had to worry about finding out…

"The word 'friend' is perhaps a bit generous." He said quietly, slowly, in Persian. "She is my student. I am merely giving her singing lessons in my spare time at night."

He sensed the danger a mere second before it was too late, and dodged slightly to the right as the khanum's crystal goblet hurtled past his head, missing his ear by a scant inch. The crystal shattered violently behind him, causing several harem girls in the vicinity to gasp in shock and hastily retreat to a safe distance before the khanum's temper could gain full force.

"How dare you!" The khanum hissed, like a cobra ready to strike. "How dare you find time to amuse yourself while I rot from boredom in this prison! You forget, Erik, you are here to serve me, and me alone!"

Erik made a shallow bow, his eyes downcast, making sure that he kept his own explosive temper in check. "I apologize, Madame. I meant no offense by it."

The khanum smirked, sitting back on the pillows again. "I'm sure you are." She said sarcastically. Erik well knew that tone in her voice, and his blood ran cold. "Tell me, Erik…is your ward pretty?"

Erik swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where the khanum might be going with this question so he could intercept the worse before she was given the opportunity to unleash her infamous cruelty upon him. He thought of Christine, just briefly, weighing out an answer. Though Erik had never been with a woman himself, he knew what European men sought after in women, whether they were looking for a wife, a mistress, or a whore; a lush, full-bodied figure emphasized by those ghastly corsets they wore, with porcelain-pale skin, full pouting lips, hair like Chinese silk, and the intelligence that could rival that of a cow. Christine unfortunately did not quite measure up to those standards. She was small in body stature and build, her figure painfully modest, her arms and wrists a tad too thin, and her long, curly hair had a bad habit of sticking up in places where it shouldn't have. Although she was still a trifle naïve and child-like in many respects, there was still a sharp edge about her wit and thinking that would have turned most men away after one conversation with her. He thought of her eyes, though, her smile, her voice, her spirit…

"Yes." He answered truthfully. "She's beautiful."

"Is she now?" the khanum mused. "You seem fond of her…I can hear it in your voice."

"Christine is my student. Nothing more, nothing less. I am only fond of her as any teacher would be of his pupil."

"Oh, don't be so modest, Erik. Tell me, how does Christine act around you? Does she shrink away from your touch? Does she stare at that ghastly mask on your head? Has she ever asked to see that horrid visage of your face?"

Erik narrowed his eyes, his blood beginning to run cold in his veins. He knew what question was coming before she ever said it. "Christine is not one of your meek little harem girls, Madame. She may look of the timid type, but she has a strong will and a good heart. If she does fear me…then she shows no trace of it."

A hard smirk played at the corners of the khanum's devil-red lips. "Is she your angel then, Erik? A woman who does is not repelled by your corpse-like fingers? She must be a miracle to you then, a true gift of Allah. I wonder, however, if she will still be such an angel after the mask comes off."

"That will never happen." Erik snapped shortly, his temper beginning to wane.

"You sound so sure of yourself. Accidents do happen, Erik. What will become of your student then? What proof do you have that she's so pure, so good that she'll accept that horror show you call your face and move on with life as though it had no relevance?"

A muscle twitched in Erik's jaw, and he had to avert his eyes to suppress the urge to strangle the woman. "Christine is different."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself more than me, my dear corpse. It sounds to me, Erik, like you might be falling in love with this girl. Is that the case, Erik?"

Erik's already pale complexion turned a shocking shade of white at the khanum's words, and for the first time since his arrival in Persia, he was unable to mask his shock. The memories of the night before came rushing back to him in a jumbled blur…

Christine seeing his wings on the terrace of East Tower…

Christine standing with him on the banister while she sang…

Christine looking at him with those star-bright eyes…

Christine kissing him…

The dark-skinned woman's smirk grew larger. "So, it's true then…"

"Of course it isn't!" Erik could feel his grip on his composure slipping rapidly from his control. "As I said before, she is nothing more than my student! You can take that absurd notion of love and feed it to the scorpions!"

The khanum gave a short, barking laugh. "Of course not! How stupid could I be? Of course she's only your student. You said it yourself. But I can't help but wonder…Erik…how much you're hoping this girl is as good and as noble as you say she is? How much you're wishing for her acceptance of your ugliness? Are you hoping, Erik, that this girl, this Christine of yours, might end up loving you?"

Erik said nothing. The khanum laughed again. "Oh, this is too wonderful! You, of all people, hoping to be loved, and by an angel of all things!" Her expression hardened as she stood from her pillows and cushions, a colossal shadowing presence that filled the entire chamber. Slowly, she parted the gauzy curtain that separated them, moving closer to Erik, who seemed to have been rooted to the spot. "What makes you think you have the right to fall in love, Erik? What makes you think that anyone could possibly love a living corpse? No woman would ever love you Erik, not even at the end of the world. You know this. Your hope is a dead man's hope. Besides, if she does, Allah forbid, even manage to find a spark of love for you in her virgin's heart? How will she react to your face then, Erik? I can tell you. The same way everyone else reacts. With fear, with loathing, with the most hell-raising disgust she'd ever know. And she would not be the one betraying you, Erik. You'll be the one betraying her, for breaking that virgin's heart of hers. She would have wanted to love a man, but instead she'll find herself loving a corpse. Could you do that to her, Erik? Could you?"

"Stop it." Erik's voice was soft but as hard as stone. "You're speaking madness. I don't love her. I'll never love her, I'll never fall in love with anyone. And she'll never love me. I will never love anyone in my whole life!"

The khanum gave a satisfied smile, as though she had just heard exactly what she wanted Erik to say. "I can see I'm jumping to conclusions, then. Silly me…I should have known you don't love her. Besides, you would only end up hurting her in the end, anyway. Her poor little virgin's heart…" Slowly, the khanum reached up with one long-nailed hand and caressed Erik's masked cheek. "My poor, dear Angel of Doom…you know there's no hope for you, is there? You know you'll lead a lonely, loveless life, and you'll only have yourself to blame for it. For your whole life… But for now, you belong to me."

Erik said nothing. There was a deep, pained, cold emotion in his eyes, but he would not look at the woman before him.

The khanum pushed herself onto her toes, her lips just barely brushing Erik's ear. "But for now, I am bored, my Angel of Doom. I hope you'll do me proud."

Author's Note: Gaah, I've been reading far too much Fruits Basket lately.

I do enjoy writing the khanum. She's so delightfully evil; I just hope I didn't overkill her character. But, she is supposed to be cruel and taunt Erik for his ugliness, so she uses that to her full advantage. She really reminds me of Akito from Fruits Basket, so he helped fill in some of the blanks with her character. Poor, poor Erik. He's so confused.

The angst continues in chapter six.

Titania of the Fate: Thank you for your kind comments. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story thus far and Erik's pretty wings. "Walking in the Air" is such a pretty song, no?

MouetteHeartsErik I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter as much as I did writing it. Thank you for all your detailed reviews on the characters and elements of the story. Much love to you!

GoldenLyre I created an addiction? Woohoo! No, wait, bad, that's bad, isn't it? Haha. The angst has at last arrived, but the fluff shall return!

Erisofchaos8: Nyess…this is in no means a fluffy fic. I mean, yeah, it's romantic, but I don't feel right writing Erik and Christine flinging themselves at each other. I mean, it works for some fics, but defiantly not for this one. I like fluff, but only in small doses. I'm more of an angst whore myself, lol.

OritPetra Your comments are always important to me, no matter where they're written at. You're playing a bigger part in this than you give yourself credit for. I mean, you of all people should know how horrid my grammer is, lol. I am grateful to have you as my beta. Cheers, hon!

Twinkle22: I'm glad you like the idea of Erik as a changeling. Thank you for the review!

Jinxed4Ever: Wai, thank you for reviewing! It means a lot to me! PS: Twisted Every Way is my newest stalking fic. We luvs it, precious, luvs it!

Lady Skywalker: So quick updating will save me from bodily harm? Sounds like a deal to me. Lol, just kidding. I'm glad you and others have taken such an interest in this fic. It's what keeps me going. Like I said before, a weak-willed Christine just wouldn't do in this story. That, and I tend to like female characters with a little more backbone, lol. Otherwise I think I would strangle her. They're no fun if they're pansies. And yes, Erik is being his typical, icy, manish self. But we all know Christine will snap him out of it…hopefully. It'll look pretty dim for a while.

Miss Daae; Yeay for EC goodness!

Little Lemon: Thank you for your comments on Christine and Erik. Thanks for reading!