A/N: Sorry for all of you who like a more compassionate Erik. I want to capture how different the sides of him are. He loves Christine with all of his heart, but his love is...dark and obsessive. Although he cares for her, remember this is a man that does not let anything get in the way of what he wants. He is just not accustomed to company, you will see the softer side of him too don't worry.

Thanks to everyone for their reviews it really means a lot that you gave me some feedback. I am pleased with the results this fanfic is getting.

Always Yours,

Christine Dahl

"With those tears, you would think it had been an awful experience," Erik mumbled sitting beside me as we dined. I had forgotten how hungary I was. He meanwhile, was watching me finish. When I pushed everything away and stood, I said nothing. I had not spoken to him all the day long. I had spent every hour except a few moments when I had to leave, in my room doing a variety of things, mostly thinking. I would not speak to him at all. What was there to say to him? I pushed the chair of the table up, and turned walking toward the Louise-Phillipe room. I did not wish to see him, nor speak with him for fear of causing that anger I had seen moments ago. I sat down on the edge of the bed wondering what I could do. There really was nothing for me here, besides singing and Erik, and one could not entertain themselves on those two things alone. I sat down, testing my voice with a few notes. Starting with a few of the simple lullabies my father had taught me.

"Your voice is angelic," Erik drew me from my daydreams of waves and sunshine.

"Leave me!" I began harshly, knowing that anger would flare from him. I could not look at him, so I shifted my feet, watching them move across the floor. He seemed sad when he awnsered.

"Very well, but remember your body is as much mine as it is yours, you are my bride. I did nothing wrong," I was surpised at the words, but I gave him no reply.

"I said' Leave Me!" I repeated now more insistant.

"Christine," he breathed in frustration, I felt a sense of joy at making him upset. Afterall I had come to the conclusion that what had happened had not entirely been my fault, if he learned to control himself..."You know what I say is true. I love you, but you will soon realize that I will take what I will from you, with or without your consent," he began to speak quietly, "it is not as if your body did not respond to me, you wanted it, it does not matter if you admit it or not?" He stood there and I could feel his eyes burning into my back. "Oh, Christine," finally he left, leaving the door open as he went.

I allowed myself to let out a sob in frustration, whispering the words I had vowed I would never again say. "Monster..he is a monster," I began to ask myself if I should have remained with Raoul afterall. Despite the fact that I could never love him with my entire heart. I could have given Raoul my body, but my mind would always be haunted. I would always dream of Erik even if I willed myself not to do so. I belonged to him and he was right, my body was as much his as it was mine. That was the rule of society, as a woman I had no right to deny my husband what he desired even if I did not wish for the same things. It could have been worse. I could be with a man with no regards for my feelings what so ever. At least he tried to give me pleasure as well as himself. He would soon grow warmer to me when he realized how I felt for him, perhaps he would lose that part of himself that was the ghost of our opera house.

I felt tears rise in my eyes again and I forced myself into a calm. The sorrow subsided and I held my head high refusing to feel sorry for myself. Afterall, as I had said I was not in an impossible position, I had to remind myself that life could have been worse. I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing, pacing around the room angrily. The conclusions that I had came to did not in the least, cool my fury at him, nor that nagging fear in my stomach.

Outside I could hear him pounding on the organ, but even if it was nonsense, the sequence of notes sounded haunting and melodious. I had no desire to run to him as I had before, I only listened in pity, knowing that music was his only emotional outlit. I sat on the bed's edge, spreading my skirts around my legs flatteringly, trying to listen and understand him. I hoped that I would come to know more about what made Erik himself, what made him what and who he was. I sighed incredulously at the realization that I knew nearly nothing at all about the man whose bed I was warming. I tried understanding the things he was writing, why he wrote them, what emotions they conveyed, yet I knew nothing about them. They were as complex and strange as the man who composed them.

I stood again unable to sit still, my body was shaking at the notes which filled my soul with agony and despair. Was that what they were meant to do? I stepped into the hall and walked toward his room. I followed the music until I was at the door. He must not have heard me for he never stopped playing with furious intensity. I rested my forehead against the closed door for a moment. He paused and quickly continued again. I cracked the door as silently as I could and peeked inside, watching him move. His entire body moving with his arms. He put everything into playing and into writing.

The moment seemed private, intimate even. I watched in horror and yet I was unable to look away. He seemed so placid one moment and yet so violent the next, I wondered what expression his face held. I tore my eyes from him and ran back to my room embarrassed that I had ever spied on him.

Upon returning to the safety of my room, I took a few relaxing breaths and sat. I closed my eyes, reclining on the bed. I wanted to sleep, I wanted to wake up and be laying next to my father again. I wanted to go back to the days when life was less complicated, but how many times had I wished the very same thing in my life?

I changed into my night clothing and tucked myself between the sheets, closing my eyes tightly, but leaving the light on. All the same how could the light banish the fears that you lived with everyday.I squinted trying to push the darkness from my mind and calm my racing heart. I didn't drift off right away, instead I lay there unable to block out the insistant organ.

After nearly another hour it faded to silence. I waited wondering what he would do now. I could not hear him as he approached though a feeling arose in me and I knew he was coming, though I could not judge his reasoning. I could feel his presence as he stood in the room although he was perfectly quiet. He stood watching me as I tried not to move.

"Christine?" I opened my eyes finding that the room was black as pitch. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of those golden eyes that one could only see in the dark. I had no doubt that he could see me as well as in the day. I felt the bed move as he sat next to me and in an effort to be far from him I moved over. He seemed to think I was inviting him to lay beside me for that was exactly what he did.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"This room is mine alone, you promised that it was so, why are you here?" I was cold and distant, attempting to be as cruel as I could.

"The situation has changed, my dear. As a wife you have certain duties to your husband, and you cannot fulfill those if you are not accustomed to even being in the same bed as me," he leaned toward me, putting his head against my shoulder. I shivered and reached over to push him away, moving again. My finger came into contact with what should have been his nose, he was not wearing his mask. He always wore a mask of some sort, even now. I gave a small gasp and pulled my hand away with mild disgust, No matter how I tried, my horror would not subside whenever I saw that face. It drew pity and many other emotions from my heart.

"Does it suprise you?" He pulled his face from me and turned from me. "I apologize for not being a handsome Vicomte, you will grow accustomed to it in time," he assured himself now not attempting to touch me, he added, "I will return to my coffin if you would prefer,"

"No one should be forced to sleep in...one of those," I could not bring myself to add 'no matter how corpse-like they are.' "Stay."

"You are so kind, to allow this monster to share your bed," he leaned over and placed an ackward kiss to my hand. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was alright, but I could not.

"Erik, do not hide yourself behind a mask, if we are to be wed, we should grow accustomed to both the pleasant and unpleasant aspects of one another." My comment caused a small chuckle to escape him.

"Yes, and there are precious few pleasant qualities about me, just as there are so few unpleasant about you, but no! I will not cause you undue horror. I will only shed my mask in the dark, so you will not be forced to endure my monstrous visage."

I had no strength to argue over something so trivial, and now I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. I could tell he was debating on saying something else, for after a moment he took my hand and feeling my shudder released it. "Will you ever forgive me for being as I am, I have not known anything but hatred,"

"I cannot forgive you," the words were like acid for he moaned sadly and we did not speak anymore. He fell into a dream, but I could not do the same. Instead I lay there, trying to keep my body as far from his as I could.

He began to mutter something and than give small cries of sorrow. My eyes flew open and I sat up, trying to make out his shape in the darkness. He rolled over again and again, tossing and gripping for something. He continued with his terrified utterings and apologies. Who was he speaking to? I felt an overwhelming urge to cuddle him as a mother might her babe. Snaking my hand around his waist and the other his chest, I found myself holding him. "Erik, I am here now, you are no longer alone, calm yourself," I spoke softly. He stopped shaking and only whimpered for a few more moments.

I can not say how long I stayed clutching him tightly to me. As I listened to him cry I began to understand a bit more of why he was as he was. He had endured so much suffering, he wanted to be normal but he only knew how to be angry. He had known nothing else through his life, and naturally kindness was alien to him. Was I really going to forgive him? I told myself that I would.

He gave one last cry and buried his head against me, "Where are you?"

"Right here, I will always be right here, you need not worry, mon ange,"

"Christine, Christine," He simply repeated my name over and over as if it were a sacred prayer. Eventually the speaking ceased and his breathing became ordinary again. I could tell that his face was wet with tears, and silently I cursed everyone for what had been done to him. His own mother had not been kind enough to even kiss him once, what sort of woman could do that to her child? No matter how hideous he was, he was still her son.

What made Erik look as he did? There was so much I wanted to know about him, and so much I dared not ask him. So many questions that I would never get awnsers to. I dozed in and out of sleep all night, suprised at the way the darkness never changed. There were no window in the room, there were no ways to tell when morning had come at last. My eyes burned and my body ached from waking every hour. Ask for him, he slept like the dead. He did not move any more, I could hardly feel his chest rise and fall with each new breath.

Refreshed and clean, I sat flipping through the book I had previously been reading. I had much to learn about love and lovers. Truthfully I did not believe that Erik would be as adequate a teacher in this field. If only I had allowed myself to grow up more, perhaps Mamma Valerius would have been more inclined to speak of such matters to me. I had many things to teach myself if I was to be a proper wife.

Mamma...surely she was worried. I would have to make an effort to go and see her before we were to leave France. I knew however to go to her, I would have to somehow assure Erik I would return. I would have to tell him I had forgiven him and perhaps give myself to him willingly a few times. I shut the novel and tucked it away once more, before starting to think of way to apologize. Although he was the one who had forced himself on me, I would have to beg forgiveness for my behavior all the same. I wished, silently that he would take his time on returning from whereever he had gone. I needed time to plan out my speech. He had told me that he had recieved some news on our home and would return in a few hours, that he must go and make sure everything was in order.

It still amazed me that he had said nothing about waking in my arms. I had woken many times, reaching over and sweeping the small strands of hair he had, with my fingers, touching his dead flesh with worry, and placing my ear on his chest to hear that his heart still beat within. I had hoped that he would at least say something to me for taking him in my arms and holding him all night. I had hoped that he would have at least taken notice upon waking. When he had not I was sorely disappointed and said little to him, prefering instead to wash and find a flattering style for my hair. If he would ignore my kindness I would not show him any. My anger was childish perhaps but I was not entirely a woman yet. I knew he had more to worry over than me and yet...and yet I could not refuse that small girl inside of me telling me to be furious with him.

When Erik returned he did not say anything to me. He merely smiled trying to catch my eye as he moved about the room. "Erik," I cleared my throat meriting a frown from him. I stood and tried to go to him but only moving a few steps closer. "I...wanted to apologize for my behavior the past two days." His mouth trembled slightly as if he were about to cry, "I am to be your wife, and I should not have brought his name into this house." His eyes cast down to the ground as I spoke, "You are my husband and my body is your's whenever you wish to have it. I can only hope that you will forgive me, Angel." The name softened his face and he held his arms out to me, looking expectantly into my face.

I went to him and allowed him to take me in his arms, thanking god that he was not on his knees moaning and crying. Instead he held me there for several moments against his trembling body. His lips kissing my forehead and cheeks. Finally he took my chin in his hands and tilted my face upward for a kiss on my own rosy lips. I felt the cold from his body was over me, the kiss felt as if it continued for an eternity. At last we pulled apart, my bosom heaving as I attempted to catch my breath.

"You need not be forgiven, we are both at fault, my love," he continued to rub those hands through my hair over and over until I felt strangely ill. My love and horror were one together for him. I met his eyes and agreed to try and be a better wife. "We have so much to do before we are able to leave Paris," he shook my shoulder's lightly until I gratified him with a giggle. "So we celebrate, before the stress of getting ourselves ready. Let us dedicate a few hours to music," he held my arm firmly and led me to the organ. I wanted to take the time to ask question upon question about him, since there was so little I knew about him.

"What shall we sing?" He asked as he sat down and than with a wink he asked if we should start with something from Faust. I agreed and after we had sang a bit from that opera we moved along. We only stopped for lunch which I only nibbled at, and which Erik ate none. I wondered when he ate.

"Erik?" He looked at me curiously, "How old are you?"

"I ceased to count my years long ago, my dear, but in an estimate I would say somewhere between fifty and sixty." He laughed at my face, but I managed to keep on with the questions.

"Since you recieved the name Erik by accident, I suppose you have no last name?"

"No, I suppose not. I have used many names in my life but none are true to me, why do you ask, you inquisitive little thing?"

"If we are to be married..."

"Christine, we are married. I do not live by god's laws, god abandoned me long ago. My faith in him no longer exists. I should like to make it legal all the same," he clapped his hands in delight and his eyes danced passionately. "We shall have to marry soon! Soon if we are to do it at the Madeline as I wished...although with all the publicity you have recieved it may be better to make new plans when we arrive in Sweden,"

My heart sank slightly, I had not thought of our wedding in some time. I had thought of being with him, but never truly being in front of a man of god and pledging myself to him forever. I smiled as largely as I could, "Yes, perhaps waiting until we are away from this place would be better. Erik, let us leave the past behind," he agreed with a small kiss on my cheek.

"I am sure the priest could make things rather discreet, although I wanted our marriage to be just as anyone else's, no secret from the world," he seemed a bit depressed by the knowledge that we would have to wait.

"Yes, but people will have come up with a theory for my disappearance, and if the priest recognizes me, he may think me kidnapped and forced into a marriage," We exchanged rather odd glances and Erik's eyes fell to the table again, and I said nothing for a moment.

Words could not describe how modest he was at times, how sad, how apologetic for everything he had done wrong. "Do you know what country you were born in? You speak French very well, but...I have heard of your travels," my eyes clouded and I felt as if I were speaking to a stranger instead of my own betrothed.

"I have told you, I have no origin. What does it matter, such trivial matters, Christine..why concern yourself with such questions?" he did not wish to speak of his past in the least, and although I wanted very much to know about it, I allowed it to drop.

"My love, how did you ever learn to sing so well?" He sighed in frustration and proceeded to call me 'an inquisitive little thing,' once more.

"I suppose I have learned many things over the years, I have only come to further my talents," he gave no real awnser and I leaned over to take his hand in my own. I said nothing else only gave his masked cheek a slight caress.I shivered at how cold it was, how strange for a wife to have to touch her husband through a mask...still I would be as affectionate as possible, and show him that he could trust me. He closed his eyes allowing himself to fall prey to my touches. I was not attempting to lure him into bed, only to be a loving bride. Somewhere in his mind he must have been suspicious of my intentions, for after a moment he took my wrist firmly in his hand and led it away from him.

"Should we, than, return to our music?"

"If you would like," I was exhausted of being underground. I wanted to get outside and see the sunshine. I wanted to stroll in the streets of the city and ride in a brougham in the moonlight with Erik. I wanted to feel the fresh air upon my cheeks.

"Tomorrow morning, if you do not mind, I would like very much to take you to see the daroga,"

"Of course."