well, here it is. the next chappie. it took me a while to write because i have two other stories and school started and i had no computor this weekend. so hear ya go.

Chapter Five- Wonderings and Market meetings

Try as she might, Sita just couldn't sleep. Wedged between her sisters Ngana and Parvati on a pallet in their tent, Sita's mind refused to quiet and allow her some much needed rest. Even Ngana's warm breath, softly whispering against her neck, couldn't lull her into sleep.

She just couldn't stop thinking about Erik. He was a strange man that was for sure, dangerous too. But Sita felt completely at ease with him, felt a connection with him that went deep. She felt like she had known him for years, even though they had just met mere hours ago. She already thought of him as a friend, a very good one, like Kartik.

She wondered if she would ever see him again. He was already riding off when she asked if she could. Perhaps he didn't hear her. Sita frowned and felt oddly saddened by the prospect of seeing him again. He was pleasant to talk to, the only adult who treated her like an equal. She was sure that she could be completely open with him about everything. Well, not everything. There was one secret he would never be told.

There was pain, cutting deep into the soul. My mind was caught between the realms of sanity and madness. The hard rocks in the ground dug into my back, and my body was racked in the most horrible pain. Like daggers.

Sita gasped and shot up in bed as she woke from her trance like memory. She heard a groan next to her and saw that Parvati was waking. Her twelve year old sister rubbed her eyes sleepily, pushing her black hair out of her eyes.

"Sita, what's going on?"

"Nothing, I've just been thinking too much. Go back to sleep Parvati."

Parvati sat up and studied Sita, her liquid black eyes boring into Sita's emerald ones. For a girl her age, Parvati had the intensity and maturity of an old woman. Sita found herself looking away form her sister's eyes, knowing Parvati had a way of finding hidden secrets in people's eyes.

"That's not true Sita."

"Yes it is," Sita retorted scathingly back, annoyed with her sister's prying. "You can't possibly know if its true or not. You can't read my mind Parvati. And go to sleep, you'll wake Ngana."

Parvati ignored her last comment and pressed on. "But I can read you're face, Sita. Something's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong Parvati, go to sleep."

"Then why are you crying?"

Sita touched her cheek and was surprised to find it damp with her tear. Odd, she didn't remember crying. She froze. Sita knew from past experience that this wasn't good. She had to get out of the stuffy tent to someplace she could breathe. Furiously wiping away her tears, Sita sprang from the bed and grabbed her shawl.

"Where are you going?"

Sita glanced back at Parvati with a cold look and said in an equally cold voice, "My, you are just full of questions tonight aren't you." Sita turned before she saw the hurt look on Parvati's face that she could feel there. Without another word, Sita walked out of the tent.

The cool night air felt so wonderful on her face, perfect to calm her thoughts. She felt guilt settle in her stomach for being so cruel to Parvati, but she had to get out of the tent before the numbness settled over her, and the blackness that came with it.

Sitting on a stump on the outskirts of the forest, Sita cried out the horrifying numbness and the evil blackness until her soul was drained of it.

Temporarily.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two Weeks Later

"Erik? Erik where are you? Answer me man!"

From his chair in the library, Erik grinned as he heard Nadir Khan calling him. The foolish man had obviously used the gondola and was currently barred from Erik's home by the portcullis. The foolish man! He knew better than to come this way. By all means, he deserved to be kept out there waiting to be let in for hours on end. But, alas, Erik would not do that to the first friend he had ever had. Sighing, Erik set down his book, Le Notre Dame de Paris, and entered the main room of his home. Sure enough, the tan, thinly tall, green eyed form of Nadir.

"Ah Daroga, so nice to see you again," Erik said, pulling the lever that lifted the grate, allowing the fuming Persian in.

"Where on earth have you been?" he said while climbing out of the boat, advancing on Erik. "I haven't heard anything of you in nearly a month, and when Antoinette comes down she says you were a blithering drunk mess. Goddamnit Erik, she was out of her mind with worry over you!" Nadir was right up in his face, angry fire burning in his eyes. If he didn't know better, Erik would have thought it was hatred he was seeing in Nadir's eyes. But Nadir cared too much and was deeply worried about him. Erik was painfully reminded of seeing Nadir like this before, only over his dying son Reza. Guilt seeped into Erik's veins, horrified at the pain he had put both Nadir and Antoinette through. He opened his mouth to apologize, but was cut off by Nadir. "And what have you been doing. Given the circumstances, you look remarkably well." Nadir didn't need to say what those circumstances were, Erik knew all to well.

"Let's just say I have had a pleasant chance meeting," he said, aware that he was grinning like a fool. He was also aware that he had tickled Nadir's curiosity, thus dissolving his anger.

"A lady?" he said rather hopefully. Erik was touched that his old friend cared for his happiness.

"A girl actually, just turned sixteen."

"Tell me about her." The two men entered Erik's library and sat down as Erik told his friend about Sita.

"Well, she young, smart, with a fiery temper and could make the strongest of men cower in fear. Her only problem is her knack for getting into trouble."

"Trouble you say?

"Yes, that is actually how we came to meet. She had being chased a lynch mob and found her way into the sewers where I found her. I brought her hear until the mob had quieted."

"Lynch mob?" Nadir's eyes widened comically, the shock, outrage and utter disbelief that people would attack a child written plainly on his face.

"She's a gypsy." Erik didn't need to say anymore, that simple statement said all. Like Erik, Nadir too knew what it was like to be shunned and maltreated for being different. As a Persian and Muslim, the devout Catholics and xenophobic people of Paris feared him.

"And, is she alright after what happened?" Erik was touched by the worry and concern Nadir had in his voice for a girl he had never met. It was one of those moments that made Erik happy he found a friend in Nadir. He was truly a rare person.

"Yes, the girl is fine. I saw her safely home and back to her family."

Now Nadir's concern for Sita turned to shock of what he had been told. "Y-you went out in public!" The world had to be askew!

"Yes, I wasn't about to let the girl roam around Paris after dark. You know damn well what the streets of Paris are like then, Nadir," Erik said firmly. Nadir was looking at him oddly, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Well, my old friend, you never fail to surprise me. Here I was thinking that you would never help anyone in the world unless it was Antoinette, Christine and I. And now, you help a girl you don't even know and go straight into a camp of the very people you despise."

"She's a special girl. I don't think I could ever let anything harm her. No, I KNOW I would never let any harm befall her," Erik said softly. "As for her people, they are the kindest people I have ever met. They are truly not like the others."

Erik saw Nadir's face go from shocked, to puzzled, to understanding and something else Erik couldn't identify. Was it recognition? And then there was a sharp gleam to his jade eyes, as if Nadir had figured something out.

"Do you feel anything for her?"

"I don't know. I felt completely at ease around her, if that's what you mean."

"No, that's not what I mean. Does she make you feel?"

Erik paused before answering. This was the same thing he had been wondering for nearly two weeks since his meeting with Sita. Sleep eluded him hours after he lay down, as his thoughts were so full of her. Even sleep could not keep her away for her beautiful face weaved its way into his dreams. The more he thought about her, the more Christine seemed to pale in comparison to the gypsy girl. Sita was strong, impulsive, and didn't take garbage from anyone. Well, she showed a certain obedience and respect for her mother, but that was to be expected. Sita was just so different from Christine, so much better. She was someone he could admire, someone he could talk to and freely. And she had the most glorious singing voice he had ever seen. She was truly Athena incarnated, not a muse. She was to strong to be a muse.

"I admire her Nadir," Erik began slowly. "I admire her, respect her and haven't been able to get her out of my mind for these past to weeks. She's very intriguing and she makes me feel…"

Nadir leaned forward, much like an eager child at Christmas, waiting for his present. Erik could feel his friend's anticipation for his answer.

"Yes?"

"She makes me feel like am not alone."

Erik could tell this was not the answer Nadir had been looking for, but it was the truth. It ought to satisfy the former chief of police while Erik had more time to sort out his thoughts concerning Sita.

Without ceremony, Nadir rose from his seat and gathered his coat. "Well, my friend, now that I know that you are well and can report to Antoinette without fear of death (Erik chuckled at that), I will cease bothering you this fine morning." Walking to the gondola, Nadir continued, "I must go to the market this morning. There is someone I wish to see there."

Erik's curiosity was peaked. Grabbing his cloak, he said, "I'll come with you."

Nadir turned around with a rather amused expression. "You? Come with me in broad daylight. I must say, I am rather surprised." Although he said he was surprised, Nadir's tone suggested otherwise. It was as if he expected Erik to come with him, wanted him to. There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

"Yes, I shall keep my hood over my face." He took in Nadir's expression. Suspicious, he said "You're up to something!"

With a slight smirk and a raise of his brow, the Persian replied, "Possibly."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Milling through the busy Market square, Erik fought off waves of claustrophobia and panic. Perhaps this wasn't a very good idea. Sticking close to Nadir, Erik felt as helpless as an infant. While he was the dark Hades of the Opera House, Erik had almost no experience when it came to the busy markets of Paris. He was completely dependant on Nadir and that galled him to no end. Nadir on the other hand, looked as if he was enjoying himself greatly. He took humor from his friend's foul mood.

"Come, there is one stand we must go to," Nadir said, gesturing to the south of the market. "The person I mentioned his there." With a twinkle in his eyes, Nadir led Erik to a small stand selling beautifully patterned and dyed silks. There were silks of all colors of the rainbow, some plain and some embroidered elegantly. And there selling a forest green length of silk to a corpulent lady was Sita.

Erik sputtered for a moment, not believing that he was seeing the one he had been dreaming of for two weeks. She looked different today, something had changed. Then she looked nothing like she had when they had met. Instead, she was dressed in a clean white blouse with a navy corset embroidered in gold thread over it. Her skirt was a vivid green that matched her eyes. A purple scarf was wrapped around her hips, giving her slight figure more curves. Her silky hair was pulled into a long braid that hung down her back and gold hoops adorned her ears. Her movements were elegant, and her face composed. She looked beautiful, like a woman. She didn't seem like the dirty, disheveled, clumsy, stubborn girl he had met.

"I take it this is the girl you told me about earlier?"

Nadir's voice startled Erik out of his thoughts. He was looking at him in a knowing, yet challenging way. There was hardness in Nadir's eyes that said he didn't want Erik near this girl. Erik felt seething anger begin to boil in his blood at his friend's distrust. But before he could say anything, the fat woman had paid for her silk and left, Leaving Nadir and Erik the next in line. Actually, they were the line, but that was hardly relevant. All Erik knew was that he was three feet away from the most glorious creature to ever walk the planet. He could smell her jasmine scent, almost feel her essence permeate him.

And then she changed. No longer was there the serene, elegant woman, but a giddy child with wide eyes and a cheerful face.

"Nadir, its so wonderful to see you. You haven't been by the camp for more than a week. What's kept you?" Sita squealed, hugging the Persian from across the stand.

Sita knew Nadir? Apparently so, as they greeted each other like a fond uncle and niece. It was blatantly obvious that Nadir cared for the girl, which went to explain Nadir's hard eyed and warnings. He was just the same as Sita's mother, wanting her to be safe. Why? Sita was a girl who was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, she shouldn't be treated like a naive child. She was anything but. It was strange, Sita was two years younger than Christine but had more maturity than Christine would ever have.

"Erik?"

Once again, Erik was startled out of his thoughts, this time by a sweet, accented voice that sounded like a spring rain and moonlight fog combined, childish innocence and mature wisdom. He found Sita staring at him, her emerald eyes gazing at him. Her beautiful face was full of shock and joy. Was this divine creature actually happy to see him? The very thought of that made his heart swell.

Sita peered under the dark hood, she was sure it was Erik. In her delight at seeing Nadir, Sita had felt a strange presence permeate her, congealing the air into a thick swirl of spice and musk. It had to be Erik; his strange, mystical essence that he radiated was so familiar to Sita, having felt it in her dreams. Sure enough, there was a tall, dark cloaked figure with sharp grey eyes piercing out from under a hood. Squinting her eyes, Sita saw the white blur of a half mask.

"Erik it is you!" she squealed, louder than when she had greeted Nadir. Several shoppers turned and looked at the spectacle, shaking their heads and murmuring about the incivility of gypsies. But neither noticed. Sita was too caught up in seeing the man she had spent so much time pondering about and visiting in her dreams. Erik, on the other hands, was thrown completely off guard when the girl threw her arms around him, squeezing him as tight as the table between them would allow. Well, this is different. Erik couldn't recall a time in his life he had been willing hugged. Well, Madame Giry had, but she hardly counted. He had never been willing hugged by a young, beautiful girl. Not even Christine had. Of course, Sita hadn't seen his face.

But it was over almost as soon as it had begun. Sita pulled away, blushing deeply and looking over at a nearby fountain, where Erik spied Ngana and another girl who looked to be about ten or so playing. Sita obviously didn't want her sisters telling stories to their protective mother. He also saw her glance at two gypsy boys. One was rather young, barely older than Ngana. The other, however, had to be at least Sita's age and bore no resemblance to Sita or her sisters. Erik felt the familiar burning of jealousy course through his veins like morphine. So, Sita had a beau!

After seeing that the "spies" Mama had sent were distracted, Sita turned back to Erik, alarmed by the hardness in his eyes as he looked over to where the boys were. Was that jealousy she saw in his eyes? After he noticed her looking, his eyes soften and he became the Erik she knew.

"Well, how have you been?" Sita felt rather awkward now, hardly knowing what to say. The simple question seemed a good way to start a conversation, though. And she truly wanted to know.

"I have actually been quite well, quite well indeed," Erik replied. So, they would make small talk. That hardly surprised him. They hardly knew anything about each other.

"That's nice…" Sita trailed off. What on earth was she to say now? That she had been thinking of nothing but him for the past two weeks? That it was the memory of him that fought of the darkness? That provoked it? How could she even tell him about the reason for that darkness? The questions burbled around in her head, muddling her thinking in wooly thickness so dense that she only vaguely heard Erik say something to her.

"Oh, what?"

"I said, what are you doing hear, selling these?" Erik repeated. He noticed the vagueness in Sita's face, remembering it meant she was lost in her thoughts. It was the only thing he could think of to say to her. Damn, where had Nadir gone?

"Oh, well, we have to make money somehow. This is an honest way to make a living, not like what other camps do." There was definite poison laced in her voice.

"No, I mean why are you selling these?"

"That's simple, I made them."

"You made them?" Well, color him surprised. He could hardly believe that little Sita had made these with her own, elegant, little, divine hands. This fine silks, with there lush colors and delicate embroidery looked to be the work of the greatest weaver in the world.

Sita was aware she was blushing now. "Yes, we trade for silk thread and I make the dyes, weave the cloth and decorate it if necessary." Disbelief was still written on Erik's shadowed face. "I know they aren't that good but they do sell rather well and my sisters love them."

"Stop."

Sita looked at Erik in shock. She averted her eyes, shame creeping on to her face. She had no right to boast like that. Now he must think her some stuck up, spoiled whore of a gypsy. Damn, why did she always have to ruin everything?

Erik noticed her shame and quickly spoke to fix the damage he created. "Listen to me Sita, Never, ever again have doubts about your talent. Never speak so little of yourself." Sita's eyes lifted and met his. For an instant, Erik could see the times of a degraded child, but by whom? "You are an incredibly gifted artist, your voice, and these silks. Never have I heard or seen such remarkable beauty."

Sita felt tears prick her eyes. His praise felt so good. All her life she had been taught to be modest, only singing to herself or around the fire. Her people never lavished much praise on one another. Merely, they could commend you for a job well done or applaud politely. It was also expected to disregard the praise, acting with humility and humbleness. Obviously Erik knew nothing of her people.

Trapped once more in her thoughts, Sita slipped from the world. Again, Erik noted this, but decided to give Sita her peace this time and let his words sink in. Leafing through the rainbow of silks, Erik came upon the diamond in the rough among the dazzling gems. It was a true beauty, such that only a true artist would appreciate it. It was plain by society's standards, but elegant. The long reel of silk was a deep indigo color that glimmered a vivid blue in the sunlight. It was soft to the touch and strong too. It had to be the most beautiful cloth he had ever seen. He didn't know why, but Erik had to have that silk. He didn't know what he'd do with it, but he needed it.

"How much for this Mademoiselle?"

"Hmm? Oh that, well you can have it. No one will buy it and I owe you so take it."

Erik protested this, but in the end, Sita managed to convince Erik to take it for free, but with one condition.

"Alright, what is this condition you speak of?"

"That I can come and visit you again."

Erik was shocked by her request. But, nevertheless, he conceded to her condition. Sita squealed with delight and clapped her hands like a small child would when given a treat. God, Erik could swear that Sita shared her body with the soul of a child and the soul of an adult. Slipping the silk underneath his cloak, Erik was unpleasantly surprised when he saw the young man he had seen earlier come over to them.

Upon closer inspection, Erik could see he was definitely a gypsy. His coco skin was smooth, flawless and his face handsome, crowned with ebony curls. His opal eyes glared suspiciously at Erik, taking a spot far to near to Sita for his taste.

"Monsieur, you have lingered here too long and I will thank you to be own your way." Well, if it wasn't the Vicomte as a Gypsy!

Before he could say anything, Sita whacked the boy's arm, albeit playfully. "Kartik, will you stop acting on my mother's order's to the letter? You know damn well I can take care of myself."

The boy, Kartik, grinned. "Yes and that's why you almost drowned in the River."

"That was because Rama pushed me."

"Yes, but you do have a knack for getting into trouble."

"And I can always beat you in a fight and sweep the floor with your remains." After this, Sita stuck her tounge out at Kartik.

A relieved sigh escaped Erik. This two were obviously not lovers; their childish banter proved that much. However, they did seem rather intimate.

"And who are you?" Kartik said, glaring at Erik.

Sita jumped to his rescue. "This is Erik, the one who helped me out two weeks ago. Remember? I told you."

"Ah." The boy's protective attitude dropped and he nodded at Erik. But before anymore words could be exchanged, Nadir had returned, stopping all current conversation.

"Well, we shan't keep you to much longer. Erik and I must be off. Good to see you Kartik. Sita, take care of yourself." Leaning over the table, Nadir place a light kiss on her cheek. "Adieu, my children."

Erik turned to go with Nadir, nodding once at Sita. As before, her voice was the last thing he heard in their parting.

"I shall hold you to your bargain, Monsieur!"

p.s.: if you review, i'll give you an erik clone to keep!