What Dreams
May Come
Chapter 7
A Stolen Moment
Of Clarity
Alone in the darkness of her own despair, Elphaba fought furiously to jog her memory to everything that had happened before she had awoken to this dark, and dismal world of shadows and night. Yet no matter how hard she tried, the only thought that kept popping up in her fractured mind was leaving Fiyero.
An icy haze fell around her. Shivering, she weakly wound her good arm around her slender waist as she fought to keep her tears at bay. Sighing, she leaned back against the pillows.
Staring off into the distance, her mind wandered. She needed to get back home, for she needed to get back to him, if anything, to at least find his mutilated body and put him to rest.
Turning, she winced as she slid off the bed. She would find her broom and escape from this darkened world and somehow find her way back to the world she knew, a world that made sense, instead of this barbaric land of male idiocy, where men ruled with a raging libido.
Planting her feet firmly on the ground, Elphaba clenched her teeth and pushing off with her hands, forced her body to rise. Her legs quivered before giving beneath her. A cry and she collapses to the ground in a heap.
"Ozdamnit!" cries out Elphaba in anger.
Erik returns, a small pouch clutched tight in his hands. Entering the bedroom he stills, seeing the bed empty.
"Mademoiselle Elphaba?" he asked cautiously to the wind.
Immediately Elphaba stiffened hearing Erik approach. Ignoring him, she remained frozen on the ground. Perhaps, if she didn't move, he would think she had escaped and would leave, granting her the opportunity to flee.
Erik immediately relaxed and his darkened eyes reflected a hidden pain, unseen by the darkness surrounding him. Weakly, he bowed his head before turning away.
"Foolish art thou heart…for who would wish to be locked away in the darkness…with an abomination like me" he whispered to himself.
Elphaba heard his words and for a moment, her heart skipped a beat. Slowly she poked her head above the bed and stared back at Erik, standing but a few feet away, his back facing her.
"I'm here" she replied softly. Inwardly she feared if he kept speaking with such heartbreak, that she herself would start crying.
"You should have escaped" came his soft reply. He still refused to turn around.
" A little hard considering my condition," frowned Elphaba, "Also escape implies I'm your prisoner" a pause and she pulls herself upright, fear sparkled in her dark chocolate eyes, "Am I?"
Erik couldn't help but chuckle at her naivety.
"No Mademoiselle," slowly, Erik turned and gazed back at Elphaba; sadness, pain shimmered in his eyes, taking Elphaba's breath away, "As I stated before…you are free to go whenever you please"
"Good," sniffs Elphaba indignantly. She wouldn't let Erik see her emotions, "because if I were your prisoner things wouldn't end well for you" threatens Elphaba.
Sighing, Erik steps up beside Elphaba and bending down, carefully wraps his strong arms around her waist. Minding her ribs, he tenderly picks her up and sets her back on the bed.
"That I have no doubt" grumps Erik. Rising to his full height, he takes the bag he had thrown on the bed and hands it to Elphaba, "Here…it's not much…but it should help sate your hunger" he finishes softly.
Elphaba opens the bag and gasps at the rich fruit bundled inside. Snapping her head up, she stares confused back at Erik.
"A market not far from here…and no I didn't steal it" he finishes, eyeing Elphaba incredulously.
Elphaba couldn't help but smile.
"Thank you" taking an apple, she took a careful bite. As she chewed, she studied the man standing before her. Something seemed different. Suddenly it hit her, he was wearing a mask…or a half mask now covering the right side of his face, "Where did you get that?" she asks.
"My mask…fished it out of the ruins of my home" sighed Erik. Absently his fingers rose and touched the soft porcelain; half charred and stained in dirt and ash.
"Why do you wear it?" asks Elphaba confused.
"Don't," growls Erik. Slowly, he takes a step away from Elphaba, his dark brown eyes all but glaring back at her, "Don't go looking for answers I'm not going to give" he warns.
"Erik…" sighing, she leans against the pillows. She really wanted to know what it was that he was hiding from her. Shifting her gaze away from the masked man standing rigid before her, her eyes slowly drifted over the ruins of his once splendid lair, "Can you tell me what you were doing down here?" she asked softly.
Relaxing, Erik stepped further into the shadows and turned his gaze away from Elphaba.
"I live here" replied Erik simply.
Stunned, Elphaba shifts her gaze back to Erik and stares, "Really…I mean it doesn't seem very cozy" she amended. After all, who was she to speak of where he chose to dwell. After all, after she fled from the Wizard's palace she had spent many of nights in the forest, or inside a tree for cover.
"You get used to it" sighs Erik
Elphaba didn't know why, but she was quickly growing more and more frustrated with this man than any other she had encountered, and that included her time at Shiz with Fiyero.
Growling, she banged her fist on the bed, startling Erik from his silent reverie.
"Ok what is it? Do you not trust me or are you simply disgusted by the sight of me?" she snarled. She was getting sick of the fact that he didn't even have the decency to even look at her when she spoke, and she was really getting tired of him always hiding in the shadows.
"Do not push me Mademoiselle" growls Erik, his darkened gaze once again returned to Elphaba and for a moment, she shivered at how cold his eyes had become, "and as I have said before…" straightening, he pulls himself to his full height, "You would not like what you see"
"Would you stop saying that!" cries Elphaba in frustration, "I'm green for Oz sakes! It doesn't get much worse!"
Erik chuckled mirthlessly at her.
"Your skin is beautiful…not distorted…malformed and misshapen into a twisted being" he growled back.
Elphaba studied the mask. Wincing, she rose onto her elbow, her dark chocolate eyes never leaving Erik's face; or at least the part she could see.
"Do you always wear that?"
"Yes" hisses Erik.
"How long have you had to wear it?" asks Elphaba softly. She didn't know why, but her heart went out to his strange, mysterious man who always hid in shadows, and who feared the eyes of others looking upon him.
"My whole life," replies Erik softly. Absently his fingers rise and press against the cool surface of his mask and winced, feeling the porcelain scrap against his skin.
"Can I ask why?" she asked gently.
"The mark of the Devil" is all Erik says darkly, yet a hidden pain could be heard in his voice, and Elphaba's heart, immediately twisted hearing it.
"What?" asks Elphaba confused.
"A name I was given in my youth," explains Erik softly. Seeing the confused look on Elphaba's face, Erik sighed and took a seat at the end of the bed. Neatly, he folded his hands in his lap. He would tell her enough to sate her inquiries, "I had been sold to a travelling fair…and the Mark of the Devil became my trade name"
"Oh" was all Elphaba could manage to say, "That's truly horrible" he added in a mute whisper.
"No one weeps for the horrid and twisted" whispers Erik softly.
"No one mourns the Wicked" added Elphaba, half to herself, and half out loud. In truth, he hadn't even realized she had said that, until it was too late.
"I…I beg your pardon?" asks Erik. Startled, he turns and shifts his gaze towards Elphaba.
"It's just something people used to say about me" Elphaba said waving it off.
In the silence of the cavern, the Phantom of the Opera, and the Wicked Witch of the West, stared back at each other, a hidden flicker of something, sparkling within each of their darkened eyes.
