A/N: Thank you to An Anti-Sheep Cheese Muffin for the great list of names. You are my hero : ) Please review and tell me what you think of my new chapter!

When I awoke, the dull ache had returned to my muscles, but I felt more rested than I had in weeks. With no natural light, I had no way of knowing how much time had passed since I fell asleep, or even what time of day it was. I slowly removed the covers, and sat up, rubbing my eyes and stretching luxuriously. A quick glance around the room revealed that fresh water had been placed on my washstand, along with a small towel. Through the curtains, I could tell that more candles had been lit.

I stood up, testing my left foot's strength gently before placing my weight on it. When I found that I could stand on it, I limped toward the curtain. I pulled the silken cord that I had seen Erik use to open it, and walked through, carefully watching my footing as I went down the steps. When I reached the bottom, I looked around me, my eyes settling on Erik, who was wrapping a dark cloak around his shoulders. When he heard me approach, he turned towards me, his eyes traveling from my feet to my head. For reasons I did not care to analyze, I was suddenly very aware of my rumpled appearance. The reasonable part of me scolded me for caring; the girl in me wished desperately for a hot bath and a pretty dress.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you." I wondered if all my conversations with him would always be this formal.

"Is there anything you require?"

Well, fresh air would be nice, this place was starting to feel like a prison cell. I also wouldn't mind a fresh croissant and a hot cup of coffee, and perhaps some clothing that fit. For that matter, I would very much like to know what time it was.

"No, thank you."

Why did I always do that? I could have at least asked for the time. He wouldn't have minded telling me. Why was I always so unwilling to make my needs known? When would I stop being such a timid little rabbit? I was suddenly aware that he was watching my face very carefully, as if he could read my thoughts.

"I have some errands I must do, will you be alright if I leave you here?"

The thought of being alone was not a pleasant one, and even though I knew he was only asking out of courtesy, I did not want to be left here in the darkness by myself.

"May I go with you?" I didn't much like the pleading tone my voice had taken on, but hopefully he would feel enough pity to take me with him, wherever he was going.

"Are you sure that you are strong enough?" He glanced at my leg, and I immediately drew myself up to my full height, which, granted, was not very tall. I could doubt myself all I wanted, but I did not appreciate him casting aspersions on my physical ability. Never mind that he was probably right. I got the vague idea that I was being unreasonable, but could not bring myself to care.

"I shall be fine, thank you." He seemed amused by my emphatic response, and gestured for me to follow him, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips. Much to my relief, I found I could walk with only a little difficulty, and my boots were large enough to accommodate any swelling that remained in my ankle; apparently it was only twisted, not even a real sprain.

He led me away from the lake, to a corner of the cavern I had not noticed before, and removing a candle from a small side table, beckoned me through a door.

Immediately, I felt off-balance and confused, finding that I had been ushered in to a room full of revolving mirrors. I thought I saw Erik's shape in front of me, but then it disappeared and was beside me, then it was on the other side...I tried to keep track of where I had come in from, and where Erik was, but I felt myself becoming ill with dizziness.

After a few moments, I thought heard his voice, but I was too dazed and confused to understand his words. Suddenly, I felt him place one arm over my shoulders, his black-gloved hand wrapping around my eyes.

"When I uncover your eyes, you must keep them trained on the floor, do you understand? You must not look at the walls."

I nodded that I had understood, and he removed his hand from my eyes.

"Now do you see the base of that tree?"

I looked a few feet in front of me, and my eyes were met with the strange spectacle of a large metal tree trunk that appeared to be growing out of the middle of the smooth floor. Again I nodded, and he ordered me to walk forward towards it. When we reached it, he covered my hand with his, and moved it to the side of the tree, where I felt a small switch. When I flipped it up, the mirrors stopped revolving, and a door appeared on one side of the room. Wordlessly, he followed me through it.

When I stepped through the door, I saw the ruins of a long hallway stretching out before me. Their were doors stretching along it on either side, and through the ash, I could make out the ornate design of some gaudy wallpaper. I turned to see Erik coming through the door behind me, then moving some mechanism behind a wall sconce. The door we had come through blended perfectly into the wall, and once it closed, I was not entirely sure where it had been.

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle, I should not have taken you that way... I only thought that because it was shorter it would be easier for you, with your injury." He seemed so uncomfortable and angry with himself that I had to smile. I was lucky he had allowed me to come with him, I certainly wasn't in any position to complain.

"Don't worry, it was really quite diverting."

He didn't seem to understand that I was trying to lighten the oppressive atmosphere, and my casual sarcasm was wasted on him. He turned his back on me, and began to walk forward, slowly for my sake. For a few minutes, we were both silent, but after having spent so much time alone, in prison and on the road, I was desperate for the simple human act of conversation.

"I've seen contraptions like it at home," Years of not being allowed to speak of my past in the gypsy camp stopped me from mentioning that I had been well acquainted with the owner of a similar hall of mirrors, who used it as an attraction in our traveling fair, "but never one that moves. And I must say, the tree is an original touch."

He stayed silent, ignoring my silent plea that he speak.

"Where exactly are we?"

"Backstage. These," he gestured with his candle, "were all dressing rooms. Up ahead of us is the costume room. I thought you might want to pick out some better fitting clothing."

So he had noticed. It was either a thoughtful gesture, or a means of getting rid of me, but I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. When we reached the end of the hallway, he pointed out a set of double doors, and gave me his candle.

"Won't you need a light?"

"I will manage. If you finish before I return, don't wander too far. Many of the floors are not sturdy enough to support much weight."

With that he left me alone again. The costume room was truly amazing, and by the light of a very small candle, somewhat frightening. The clothes were indeed very well preserved, and it looked like the fire hadn't touched this part of the Opera House. I rummaged around for a while, until I found rows of ballet costumes, which I assumed would fit me best, being rather small. I quickly dismissed the slave girls outfits, complete with ornate chains, and the fluffy milkmaid dresses. When I was finished, I had a small pile of clothing consisting of another white blouse, a pair of black breeches, a simple blue cotton dress, and a pair of supple black shoes. I might eventually need more, when I emerged back into the outside world, but this would do me quite nicely for now.

As I walked back to the entrance of the room, another costume caught my eye. It was a bright red ruffled skirt and black bodice, covered with beautiful embroidery. Looking at it, my mind turned back to a memory of nearly fifteen years ago, when my mother had presented me with an outfit very much like it.

'You have all the skill you shall need to begin performing,' she had told me, handing over the dress she had spent weeks working on; even as her illness ate away at her body, her smile remained bright and her eyes danced. My heart had nearly burst with pride when she told me that, for I had been practicing so hard to be allowed to join the older dancers. What was that song they used to perform to, the one I used to beg Stefan to play for me so I could practice? I began to absent-mindedly hum it to myself, taking comfort in the familiar sound breaking up the monotony of silence that surrounded me.