A/n: I'm back again. At least I wasn't gone as long as last time, right? I
hope you enjoy this chapter.
Erik is EXTREMELY out of character, unfortunately. I don't know what happened, but this chapter just didn't come out right.
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own 'In Our Lovely Desert', which is (again) from my hymnbook. As you can tell, I am still in great need for lyrics. If anyone has any, please let me know. Oh, and the song is written by Eliza R. Snow, and the music by George F. Root.
And one question that has been bothering me: Is Emily a Mary-Sue (or too Mary-Sueish)? I've been worrying about it, but I can't seem to decide on my own. Please let me know if she is, and what I might do to correct it.
Thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Emma sighed, frustrated. She was sick of this song. She used to love it, but Amy had made her sing it WAY too many times.
"Again, Emma." Amy said sharply, sitting at the piano. She wasn't going to admit it was her fault Emily had run off, and still wasn't back.
"But you still haven't told me where Em'ly is." Emma complained.
"I told you, you have no right to know. Now, Emma. Sing it again." She started playing the music, but Emma didn't start singing.
"What happened?" Emma asked stubbornly. Amy sighed and thunder roared. It was going to rain.
"She decided she wanted to be alone for a while. It's not my fault if she decides to get wet." Amy said, surrendering to the five-year-olds stubbornness.
"But didn't Mommy get sick in the rain?" Emma asked, scared.
"Yes." Amy said. She wasn't about to admit that she was getting a little worried. Their father would never forgive her if she let Emily get sick...and maybe die.
"But..."
"Enough, Emma. You need to practice." Amy started playing again. Emma sighed, but sung this time.
"} In our lovely Deseret, Where the Saints of God have met,
There's a multitude of children all around.
They are generous and brave; they have precious souls to save;
They must listen and obey the gospel's sound.
Hark! hark! hark! 'tis children's music- Children's voices, oh, how sweet,
When in innocence and love, like the angels up above,
They with happy hearts and cheerful faces meet.
That the children may live long And be beautiful and strong
Tea and coffee and tobacco they despise,
Drink no liquor and they eat But a very little meat;
They are seeking to be great and good and wise.
Hark! hark! hark! 'tis children's music- Children's voices, oh, how sweet,
When in innocence and love, like the angels up above,
They with happy hearts and cheerful faces meet.
They should be instructed young How to watch and guard the tongue,
And their tempers train and evil passions bind;
They should always be polite, and treat everybody right,
And in ev'ry place be affable and kind.
Hark! hark! hark! 'tis children's music- Children's voices, oh, how sweet,
When in innocence and love, like the angels up above,
They with happy hearts and cheerful faces meet.
They must not forget to pray, Night and morning ev'ry day,
For the Lord to keep them safe from ev'ry ill,
And assist them to do right, that with all their mind and might,
They may love him and may learn to do his will.{"
Emma stopped suddenly when the door opened and Emily stepped in, a little wet, wearing a black cloak that didn't belong to her.
"Emily," Amy started. "It's about time. Where were you? You were maki-" Amy stopped speaking as Erik stepped in. "Who are you?" she demanded, standing up, her hands on her waist and her eyes glaring at Erik.
He found it amusing, seeing such a small woman trying to give him a scolding glare with squinting brown eyes, and light brown hair falling into her face.
"I am Erik." He answered simply, amusement obvious in his voice. He swore she almost growled.
"Well, /Erik/, why do you know Emily?" Amy demanded to know.
Erik noted the use of 'why' over 'how'.
"She saved my life." He said, almost smiling at the look of shock and surprise on Amy's face.
"You...she..." Amy stuttered, then regained control of herself. "Well. What are you doing here?"
"I came to visit Emma, of course." He said, smiling at Emma, who squealed and ran up to give him a hug.
"Erik! You're back!" she proclaimed happily.
He laughed and picked her up.
"Hello, Emma." He greeted. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Amy stood there, shocked. There was nothing she could find to say. She was disgusted at this display of affection, when they were not related at all. Should this Erik marry Emily, it would be better, but Emily was never meant to marry. And what was with that mask? He must be a criminal. It was just like Emily, to trust anyone she found on the street.
Erik put Emma down, glancing at Amy's disgusted gaze. He looked coldly into her eyes.
"Perhaps we could speak together, alone, Mademoiselle Lamb?" Erik addressed Amy. Amy's jaw dropped.
"Do you /know/ how /inappropriate/ your /absolutely ridiculous/ suggestion /is/?" Amy demanded, utterly bewildered by this man's manners. He must certainly was a criminal!
Emily picked Emma up and headed upstairs. Amy started to follow, furious, but Erik took her wrist and led her to the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Amy demanded angrily.
"We need to talk."
"'We need to talk'?" Amy laughed. "I don't even know you."
"Yes, however, I know enough about you from Emily."
Amy gulped. Somehow she didn't like that idea. "Oh?" she asked.
"Yes." Erik glared at her, and she shifted uncomfortably.
"Well? What do you know?"
"You need to stop blaming Emily for your Mother's death. You know as well as I that it could not have been her fault."
Amy's fists clenched, and she stood as tall as she could (which meant very little next to Erik), her eyes on fire.
"Well! I never! How DARE you presume to know so much about it!?"
"Emily told me." Erik said calmly.
"Then you don't know the half of it!"
"When Emily was younger she went to a friend's house. She didn't come home before dark. Your mother went out in a storm to get her while she was sick, and she became even more ill and died." Erik recited.
"Well..." Amy failed to find something else. "Well...then you know it IS her fault."
"You are blaming her to make yourself feel better about your mother's death. But you seem to be somewhat mature enough to let go."
"A-" she paused. She had nothing left to say. She couldn't think of anything to defend herself.
But of course he couldn't be right.
"You have to let go. Emily was very young then. She wouldn't know any better. She didn't know what would happen."
"But-" Amy said weakly, and paused. He couldn't be right. Could he?
"So it couldn't possibly be her fault. So stop blaming her. Alright?"
"Mmm." Amy paused. But somehow, somehow she couldn't deny his voice. "Alright."
Erik smiled. "Good." He walked out of the kitchen as Emma started running down the stairs again holding her newest doll.
"Look, Erik! I named her Sally!"
Erik smiled. "She's beautiful."
Emily slowly came downstairs, just as Amy stormed up them. She gave Erik a curious look. He simply nodded reassuringly.
Emily smiled.
~~~~~~~
There is more to this visit, but you'll have to wait until the next chapter. I'm sorry. I just simply ran out of time. You'll hopefully see my next chapter soon.
Forgive me for this chapter being so short, and so...unusual. It didn't come out the way I wanted it to.
I don't mean to sound desperate, but I also have another phic up called White Roses. It's an E/AW, E/C. Don't understand? Read it. Trust me, it's not as bad as it sounds (or how it started, for that matter).
Please leave a review.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail
Erik is EXTREMELY out of character, unfortunately. I don't know what happened, but this chapter just didn't come out right.
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own 'In Our Lovely Desert', which is (again) from my hymnbook. As you can tell, I am still in great need for lyrics. If anyone has any, please let me know. Oh, and the song is written by Eliza R. Snow, and the music by George F. Root.
And one question that has been bothering me: Is Emily a Mary-Sue (or too Mary-Sueish)? I've been worrying about it, but I can't seem to decide on my own. Please let me know if she is, and what I might do to correct it.
Thank you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Emma sighed, frustrated. She was sick of this song. She used to love it, but Amy had made her sing it WAY too many times.
"Again, Emma." Amy said sharply, sitting at the piano. She wasn't going to admit it was her fault Emily had run off, and still wasn't back.
"But you still haven't told me where Em'ly is." Emma complained.
"I told you, you have no right to know. Now, Emma. Sing it again." She started playing the music, but Emma didn't start singing.
"What happened?" Emma asked stubbornly. Amy sighed and thunder roared. It was going to rain.
"She decided she wanted to be alone for a while. It's not my fault if she decides to get wet." Amy said, surrendering to the five-year-olds stubbornness.
"But didn't Mommy get sick in the rain?" Emma asked, scared.
"Yes." Amy said. She wasn't about to admit that she was getting a little worried. Their father would never forgive her if she let Emily get sick...and maybe die.
"But..."
"Enough, Emma. You need to practice." Amy started playing again. Emma sighed, but sung this time.
"} In our lovely Deseret, Where the Saints of God have met,
There's a multitude of children all around.
They are generous and brave; they have precious souls to save;
They must listen and obey the gospel's sound.
Hark! hark! hark! 'tis children's music- Children's voices, oh, how sweet,
When in innocence and love, like the angels up above,
They with happy hearts and cheerful faces meet.
That the children may live long And be beautiful and strong
Tea and coffee and tobacco they despise,
Drink no liquor and they eat But a very little meat;
They are seeking to be great and good and wise.
Hark! hark! hark! 'tis children's music- Children's voices, oh, how sweet,
When in innocence and love, like the angels up above,
They with happy hearts and cheerful faces meet.
They should be instructed young How to watch and guard the tongue,
And their tempers train and evil passions bind;
They should always be polite, and treat everybody right,
And in ev'ry place be affable and kind.
Hark! hark! hark! 'tis children's music- Children's voices, oh, how sweet,
When in innocence and love, like the angels up above,
They with happy hearts and cheerful faces meet.
They must not forget to pray, Night and morning ev'ry day,
For the Lord to keep them safe from ev'ry ill,
And assist them to do right, that with all their mind and might,
They may love him and may learn to do his will.{"
Emma stopped suddenly when the door opened and Emily stepped in, a little wet, wearing a black cloak that didn't belong to her.
"Emily," Amy started. "It's about time. Where were you? You were maki-" Amy stopped speaking as Erik stepped in. "Who are you?" she demanded, standing up, her hands on her waist and her eyes glaring at Erik.
He found it amusing, seeing such a small woman trying to give him a scolding glare with squinting brown eyes, and light brown hair falling into her face.
"I am Erik." He answered simply, amusement obvious in his voice. He swore she almost growled.
"Well, /Erik/, why do you know Emily?" Amy demanded to know.
Erik noted the use of 'why' over 'how'.
"She saved my life." He said, almost smiling at the look of shock and surprise on Amy's face.
"You...she..." Amy stuttered, then regained control of herself. "Well. What are you doing here?"
"I came to visit Emma, of course." He said, smiling at Emma, who squealed and ran up to give him a hug.
"Erik! You're back!" she proclaimed happily.
He laughed and picked her up.
"Hello, Emma." He greeted. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Amy stood there, shocked. There was nothing she could find to say. She was disgusted at this display of affection, when they were not related at all. Should this Erik marry Emily, it would be better, but Emily was never meant to marry. And what was with that mask? He must be a criminal. It was just like Emily, to trust anyone she found on the street.
Erik put Emma down, glancing at Amy's disgusted gaze. He looked coldly into her eyes.
"Perhaps we could speak together, alone, Mademoiselle Lamb?" Erik addressed Amy. Amy's jaw dropped.
"Do you /know/ how /inappropriate/ your /absolutely ridiculous/ suggestion /is/?" Amy demanded, utterly bewildered by this man's manners. He must certainly was a criminal!
Emily picked Emma up and headed upstairs. Amy started to follow, furious, but Erik took her wrist and led her to the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Amy demanded angrily.
"We need to talk."
"'We need to talk'?" Amy laughed. "I don't even know you."
"Yes, however, I know enough about you from Emily."
Amy gulped. Somehow she didn't like that idea. "Oh?" she asked.
"Yes." Erik glared at her, and she shifted uncomfortably.
"Well? What do you know?"
"You need to stop blaming Emily for your Mother's death. You know as well as I that it could not have been her fault."
Amy's fists clenched, and she stood as tall as she could (which meant very little next to Erik), her eyes on fire.
"Well! I never! How DARE you presume to know so much about it!?"
"Emily told me." Erik said calmly.
"Then you don't know the half of it!"
"When Emily was younger she went to a friend's house. She didn't come home before dark. Your mother went out in a storm to get her while she was sick, and she became even more ill and died." Erik recited.
"Well..." Amy failed to find something else. "Well...then you know it IS her fault."
"You are blaming her to make yourself feel better about your mother's death. But you seem to be somewhat mature enough to let go."
"A-" she paused. She had nothing left to say. She couldn't think of anything to defend herself.
But of course he couldn't be right.
"You have to let go. Emily was very young then. She wouldn't know any better. She didn't know what would happen."
"But-" Amy said weakly, and paused. He couldn't be right. Could he?
"So it couldn't possibly be her fault. So stop blaming her. Alright?"
"Mmm." Amy paused. But somehow, somehow she couldn't deny his voice. "Alright."
Erik smiled. "Good." He walked out of the kitchen as Emma started running down the stairs again holding her newest doll.
"Look, Erik! I named her Sally!"
Erik smiled. "She's beautiful."
Emily slowly came downstairs, just as Amy stormed up them. She gave Erik a curious look. He simply nodded reassuringly.
Emily smiled.
~~~~~~~
There is more to this visit, but you'll have to wait until the next chapter. I'm sorry. I just simply ran out of time. You'll hopefully see my next chapter soon.
Forgive me for this chapter being so short, and so...unusual. It didn't come out the way I wanted it to.
I don't mean to sound desperate, but I also have another phic up called White Roses. It's an E/AW, E/C. Don't understand? Read it. Trust me, it's not as bad as it sounds (or how it started, for that matter).
Please leave a review.
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail