"He's there:

The Phantom of the Opera.

Beware,

The Phantom of the Opera." –The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter 2: Fiery Rose

Erik looked once more at the girl. Dark, sooty lashes framed her bright eyes and her hair fell in loose black curls down to her knees. Her skin was shimmering liquid copper and her slender frame was tensed in his presence. She was sopping wet from the lake and she shivered, her white teeth chattering involuntarily.

"A bride?" Erik repeated distantly.

"Yes, I brought her from my homeland. She was engaged to my brother, but sadly he has passed on. Since her family has already paid the dowry, I had to marry her off. She is a beautiful little flower isn't she?" The Persian touched her cheek. She lashed out and attempted to bite him. He withdrew quickly, her teeth only grazing his finger. "She's also a fiery demon. I thought she would amuse you."

"Amuse him! I am not a simple toy!" The young girl dared to speak.

Erik was taken aback. Her voice, though spiked with ire, was melodious.

"How dare you raise your voice to me! You are lucky I have already presented you to Erik or I would beat you!" The Persian raised his hand to strike her. Surprisingly, she didn't flinch in the slightest.

"You raise your hand to me as if I have never been struck before!"

Before the Persian could move, Erik grabbed the girl's face and yanked it towards him. She scowled at him, her beautiful eyes clouded with hate.

"What is your name, little demon?" he asked softly, seductively.

"Nasrin." Her reply was curt.

"Oh, no last name?" he asked mockingly.

"Not one that is worth my breath," she replied smoothly, attempting to mimic the seductive tone in his voice.

Erik looked up at Nadir. "Thank you, daroga. She will indeed amuse me. You have your leave to go now." He motioned towards the opening to the lair.

The Persian moved to protest when he saw the fire in Erik's eyes. Instead, he bowed deeply and rowed away, daring one look back at the two. They were frozen in place, watching him go. When he shrank into the distance, Erik glared at Nasrin.

"Now, let me untie you so that I am sure to have your complete attention. There are some rules I need to set down." He kneeled down and unbound her hands. They were swelled from poor circulation and her wrists were cut from the tight rope. When she was freed, she stumbled to her feet and stared down at Erik who tossed aside the rope.

"I don't live by guidelines given to me by men that live in caves," she seethed.

"You do now if you want to be my wife," he snapped.

A cynical laugh burst from her chest. "You imbecile. What makes you think I came here of my own will? Didn't you see me thrashing in the boat? Don't even delude yourself into thinking you can control me." She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. She batted her dark lashes coyly and smiled.

"Your pitiful attempts at seduction fall upon cold stone, my dear." He grabbed her chin and pressed her nose against his. Immediately, the coy expression gave way to a look sharp with hate.

"Touch me again without my consent and I-"

"You'll what? You're in my domain now, Madame. Here, I am the king, and you: the loyal servant." He lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper.

Nasrin's upper lip twitched in spite, but she remained silent. She shook with rage as she fought the urge to spit in his face.

"There now, you can be taught." Erik released her and began to walk away towards his organ.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To play my organ. Are those unnaturally pretty eyes of yours blind?" Erik snapped.

"Hn, a compliment coupled with an insult. You are new at banter, aren't you?" She crossed her arms and walked slowly towards him, her gold bracelets clinking together.

"I live in a labyrinth alone. What do you think, I practice arguing with myself?" he hissed.

"Well fix whatever problems that prevent you from showing yourself to the world! I don't want to live in a dank cave for the rest of my life!" She motioned to the slimy walls and the black lake.

"If you don't shut your mouth you won't have to deal with it much longer," he spat, pouring for himself a glass of red wine and swirling it in the chalice.

"I'm not even here an hour and already I've been given a death threat. I'm only saying that we need a house above ground, in the light. Raising a child in the darkness is no good if they know nothing else."

Erik, who had just begun to sip the wine calmly, spat it out as soon as a child was brought up. The crimson liquid splashed on the floor of the lair and he turned to her, eyes wide.

"Child! Are you out of your mind!"

Nasrin rolled her eyes disapprovingly before narrowing them again at him. "Look, I'm not thrilled with the idea of lying with you either. But I do believe that the point of marriage is procreation."

All the color drained from Erik's face before it became flushed with hatred. "If I were to ever father a child, it wouldn't be yours!"

Nasrin smirked and pursed her lips. "From what the daroga told me, you don't have much of a choice."

Erik's face contorted in loathing. "You defiant little devil! How dare you disrespect me!" He strode towards her angrily, his hand balled in a hard fist. When he reached her side, he halted, seeing no more defiance in her gaze. Her expression was solemn, yet irritated.

"Yes, that's right, strike me to avoid your problems. That is what men do, don't they? Is that what I'm here for?"

Erik relaxed, his fist opening and falling to his side. He looked into her eyes. The glitter in her eyes caught his attention. She was surveying him, examining his every feature and analyzing it, then storing it in her memory for future use. "What a clever little girl you are. How old are you, my new bride?" He practically spat the words 'new bride.'

She peered up at him, her blue green eyes still darting. "I am sixteen years old. I will be seventeen in a few months."

"That's all? Where did all your guile come from?"

"One has to be on their guard when dancing at parties with drunken men," she replied simply.

"Oh, you are a love slave?" he conjectured.

Her face twisted and she slapped him hard across the face. He stumbled back, touching his wounded cheek.

"No! I am the famous Persian dancer known as the Fire Rose! Apparently, you are as moronic as you are conceded. Didn't you hear the daroga say that I am a virgin bride? That means I haven't-"

"I know what virgin means!" he roared.

"All right, all right, no need to shout. And you're turning red, Phantom." She pointed to his face, which was colored scarlet.

"Don't call me Phantom," Erik growled.

"Then what should I call you, Monsieur?" she asked calmly.

"Erik."

"Just Erik? No last name?" Nasrin asked slyly.

Erik's eyes flickered with a hint of humor and a small grin twitched on his lips. He suppressed it with a snarl. "No last name."

"Very well, enough of this witty banter. I am very tired; I have traveled many miles today. Where do I sleep?" Her eyes looked up at him, wide with phony compassion.

"You will sleep on the floor for now, Nasrin," Erik replied absent mindedly as he sat on his organ bench and placed his hands on the keys.

"The floor!"

"Not the bare floor. I'll lay down some blankets for you. It would be in your best interest to watch out if you happen to complain much more; it's rather annoying and I know of only one way to permanently close loud mouths."

"So I believe," Nasrin murmured. "The Punjab lasso. It's what your famous for . . . or should I say infamous?"

"Infamous, I should say." He then fell silent.

"May I ask you a question?"

"I believe that answer is apparent."

"I mean would you mind?" Nasrin asked dramatically.

"No, but if you don't ask quickly, my patience will wane."

"You said that you wouldn't want to father my children in an odd way. The tone in your voice indicated that you had some other lady in mind. May I ask her name?"

Erik fell silent for a moment before turning to face the Persian girl. "Her name is Christine Daaé. She sings in the Opera above us. I probably should be going actually; she has a performance tonight as Elissa in Hannibal and I have a feeling it is going to be her greatest triumph. I want to be there to congratulate her. I am, after all, her teacher."

"Oh, all right then. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I want to bring her down here tonight. I don't want you seen by her."

Nasrin growled. "Fine! If you don't want me mothering your children, sleeping on your bed, or even being seen, I don't know what I'm doing here!" She stormed off towards another boat. "Ignorant, insolent, labyrinth dwelling hermit!"

"No you don't! You're not leaving with my only transport to Christine!" Erik stood up and rushed towards her.

"I'm not going to stay here and be ignored, you know!" Nasrin roared. "Or is this about your useless boat!"

"This is more about the boat. I know you won't leave me."

"Oh really? And what makes you so certain you know everything about me?" she challenged.

"Because . . . I don't know why. Something about you-"

"Oh don't even think that you can try to predict me. I doubt you'd get very far."

Erik stared deep into her eyes. "Try me."

Nasrin stormed up to him, her eyes alive with fire. When she reached him, she grabbed his cheeks and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Just as Erik began to get comfortable with the embrace, she brutally pushed him away again and stared triumphantly into his closed eyes.

"What was that?" he asked softly. He began to quiver, never before tasting the lips of another.

"Obviously not what you expected," she replied smoothly, her voice gentle and alluring. She brushed past him and walked slowly into the deeper parts of the lair. "Perhaps I'll stay down here a little while. After all, if I were to journey to the surface, I would have nowhere to go, no one to turn to. I guess I'm stuck down here with a husband who doesn't want me."

"You intrigue me, Nasrin. You have something about you that makes me think to keep you."

"Will you stop referring to me as if I were a stupid animal!"

"You had better hope to whoever you pray to that my patience for your complaining doesn't die out, though. The only reason I am 'sharing in your company' is because there is something that I can't place with you. For now, I must be going, though, I don't want to miss a second of Christine's performance."

Erik walked over to the lapping fingers of the lake and leaped in the boat. As he pushed the small gondola into the darker recesses of the lake, he called back to her, "Make sure you are not seen when I return. I will try to bring the Angel of Music down here tonight. Farewell, Fire Rose." He disappeared around a bend in the lake quickly, with only the lapping sound of the oar echoing his departure.

Nasrin stood by the edge of the lake, her bare feet tingling in the cold water. She growled in fury and roared, "Fine! If you don't want me seen, I won't be!" She stormed to the back of his lair and cloaked herself in shadow, her eyes dark with hellish rage.

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed:

Maidenhair: I hope this chapter answered at least some of your questions from the last chapter! If not, the rest will be revealed in time.

phantominhell: I'm glad you liked the first chappy. Good to hear from you again.

Maska: Hope you'll stay with it! I look forward to hearing feedback from you again.

the phantom's cry: Glad you like the concept. Physical descriptions get rather annoying after a while so I decided to leave this phantom to the imagination a little bit. Though when I speak of his deformity, it is more the 2004 movie than anything else. That is how I pictured him at least.

Nota Lone: Yeah, Nadir was pretty dark, just kinda giving away a girl like that. But that was how things were in the 1800's so it really wasn't that uncommon.

Videociraptor: Always with yayness to contribute! Thanks for reviewing! You are very yay! (glomps)