I'm terribly sorry for how long this took. I was on a trip, and i meant to post this before i left, but what with one thing and another...anyway, I beg your apologies! please! sigh...

Soon he heard the footsteps of the maid. She knocked on the door and Raoul got up and opened it. Instead of just giving him the food, she managed to enter the room. She carefully laid out his dinner and then reached into her pocket. She took out a letter and then eyed Raoul.

"Are you a Vicomte?" She asked curiously. Raoul blinked.

"Well, yes, I am," he admitted, quite surprised. The maid looked at him with big adoring eyes.

"Oooh, you must be rich as well as handsome," she said, moving up next to him.

"Er, if you say so, Mademoiselle," Raoul said.

"This is a letter for you," she purred, "it just came." She held the letter playfully out of his reach. Raoul blinked and reached for it. She smiled and twirled it in her fingers. Raoul watched her with confusion.

"Mademoiselle, may I have my letter?" He asked her. She laughed and placed it in his hands, keeping her hands touching his for as long as she could. She moved even closer.

"Monsieur, if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask me." She said. Her lips were only a few inches from Raoul's. He swallowed and pulled his hands out of hers, backing up.

"Mademoiselle, I regret to inform you that I am engaged," he said. She pouted.

"Engaged? But your fiancee would never know," she said slyly. Raoul shook his head.

"Thank you for my dinner. You may leave. Now." She left, frowning at him over her shoulder. As soon as she was out the door, Raoul shut it. He then glanced at the letter. It was addressed simply: Vicomte. He tore open the envelope and read the enclosed message. Then he read it again before he started laughing. They couldn't have gotten it more wrong! He read it again just to be sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

Vicomte,

I am pleased that you have arrived. Despite the loss of my messenger, your fiancee is still unharmed. Please tell your tall body guard that his skills are quite valuable, and that if he should wish to join with me, I would be delighted to hire him. Of course, I understand that he is probably entirely faithful to you and would gladly sacrifice himself to save you. I must warn you that if you do not simply hand over the money, there might be violence. I am not taken with violence, I prefer to use... Other means. If you have brought the money, and are willing to hand it over, please leave a green piece of cloth at the statue in the park tomorrow. If you are not willing to hand it over, please leave a yellow one. Once I have seen which course you choose to take, I shall contact you again.

Regards,

M. Noir

Raoul shook his head. Bodyguard indeed. He put the letter on the bed and turned to his food. He jumped almost a foot in the air when he saw Erik leaning against the wall.

"What?" He asked. "How?" Erik didn't answer.

"I understand you received a letter," he said, glancing at he bed. Raoul snatched it up.

"Yes, I did happen to receive a letter. It is my business, however." Erik held out his hand.

"Give it to me," he ordered. Raoul shook his head.

"No," he said, "it's my letter."

"It would be wise to give it to me," Erik said, "I've already taken the money, and I have no problem taking the letter by force." Raoul stubbornly shook his head, clutching the letter tighter.

"You've ordered me around so far, but I won't let you do it anymore." He said bravely. "It's my money, my fiancee, and my business! You wouldn't like what it says, anyway." He added. Erik advanced toward him.

"She may be your fiancee, but I won't let her be killed by your stupidity. You, I don't care about, you can die for all I care, but I won't let you drag her down too." Raoul ground his teeth.

"You think you're so high and mighty, don't you?" He retorted. "You're the smart one, you're the strong one, you're the leader, well, you're not! You may have written nice music, but where'd that ever get you in life? Stuck in a cage in the circus? It would have been better if you were never rescued!"

With a cry of fury, Erik launched himself at Raoul. Raoul dropped the letter and brought up his hands in an attempt to defend himself. Erik's first blow knocked him off his feet. Raoul rolled to the side and scrambled back up. He swung his fist wildly at Erik's face.

Now, Raoul was a member of upper society. He knew French, English, and moderate amounts of Italian, Latin, and Greek. He knew how to diplomatically stomp on someone. He knew which fork to use in a ten course meal. He even knew how to fence, and some archery. But what he didn't know anything about was street fighting.

Fistcuffs.

Hand combat.

Which was exactly what he was attempting.

His wild strike missed, and Erik punched him again. Raoul fell back, and when Erik lunged at him, Raoul buckled immediately. Erik's force carried him off Raoul, but he was on his feet in an instant. Raoul was on his knees, and he was immediately defending himself from Erik's blows. He managed to grab Erik's foot, but not knowing what to do with it, he simply jerked it to the right.

Which was a mistake, because a second later Erik crashed down on top of him.

Though the fall had disoriented him, Erik was quick to make good use of his situation. Shoving Raoul against the wall, he kicked him in the side. Raoul groaned and curled up, praying that he hadn't broken a rib.

Erik stood over him, his eyes blazing with anger. Raoul knelt against the wall, holding his side. Erik reached down toward him, and Raoul brought up his other hand above his head in defense. Erik grabbed his wrist and jerked him up. Raoul gasped as pain shot through his side. He tried to pry Erik's fingers off his wrist, but he knew it was hopeless.

Erik slammed him back against the wall, and Raoul didn't even try to fight. He knew that he would only get hurt more. Raoul shrank back against the wall and stared up into Erik's eyes.

Erik's heart burned. He would hurt this boy, make him feel all the pain that he himself had felt in his life. The boy was cornered, he had nowhere to go, no one to save him this time. Raoul looked up into Erik's eyes. Erik felt him shrink back against the wall, but he was frozen.

There was terror and hopelessness in Raoul's eyes, but there was also something deeper, something that told Erik that this boy would never truly yield to him no matter how much he was hurt. Erik knew what that look was. He knew exactly what went into it. Hadn't he worn it himself, almost every day before he was rescued? As he knelt in the cage, at the mercy of the gypsy, after a long day of being tormented. When he looked up and saw that there was no mercy in the eyes of the person above him. When he simply waited for the worst, though his heart burned with rebellion and refused to ever give in. And now he was being looked at that way.

Erik released Raoul and stepped back. How dare this boy make him out as the bad one! The one who hurt people. He turned away. He would not become someone like that!

Raoul sank to the floor with a gasp. He couldn't believe it. He looked up at Erik, but Erik's back was turned to him. There came an urgent knock on the door.

"Monsieur? Monsieur? Are you all right?" Came the voice of the maid. Erik turned back to Raoul with a look that plainly said: I might have let you go now, but tell and you won't be so lucky again. Raoul cleared his throat.

"No, no," he called, "I'm fine. I just hurt myself by mistake. Sorry, I'm fine now."

"Are you sure? Should I come in?"

"No!" Raoul quickly said. "I'm fine!" He heard the maid's footsteps going away. He put his hand to his side. It was a lie. He was not fine. He spotted the letter on the floor. He glanced up at Erik, then away quickly.

Who had won? Raoul pondered the question. At first thought, it was immediately clear that Erik had won, simply because he had... Well... Won. But Raoul suspected that there was more to it than that. He had managed to jolt Erik out of his murderous rage, and Raoul thought that that counted for something. He decided to concede the battle, just this once. He picked up the letter and got painfully to his feet.

"Here," he mumbled, holding out the letter to Erik. "You wanted to look at it." Erik glanced up at him, and Raoul swore that there was a look of surprise in his eyes. But a second later it was gone. He took the letter from Raoul and read it. He smirked and read it again. Raoul had been watching nervously, waiting to see if Erik would take the fact that he was assumed a bodyguard as an insult, or a joke. Once he saw that Erik was amused by it, he relaxed slightly.

"It's an interesting letter," Erik said, "though I must say that Monsieur noir is rather poorly informed, if he thinks that master servant is our relationship. Of course, one could say it is...simply that he got the roles mixed up." Raoul chuckled, before realizing what Erik had said.

"What?" He cried. "What do you mean? I'm not a - " Erik's smirk was growing. Raoul glowered at him, amazed that he could go from a dangerous murderer to someone with a sense of humor so quickly. Erik folded the letter and pocketed it. He strode out of Raoul's room and over to his own.

Raoul shut the door after him, wondering what was going to happen next. He at least had some control over that, he assured himself. His body and pride might be hurt, but his dinner was still intact. Flinching at the pain in his side when he sat, he proceeded to enjoy the now slightly cold meal.