A/N: Jaina Kenobi, you have no idea happy you made me when you compared my angst to that of Pride and Prejudice, my favorite book of all time, by my favorite author ever.

Doe Eyed Dryad: I would not have thought of Anastasia as a comparison, but oddly enough, it is another of my favorite movies. Pretty cool.

Loved all the reviews, they make me so happy!

Dinner with Erik that night was the most painful experience of my life. Imprisonment, jeering, branding, betrayal; none of my past experience cut so deeply at my heart as that silent meal. We sat across from each other, but did not meet each other's eyes. We spoke only to communicate the necessary, and to convey last minute details of my imminent departure.

He maintained the same courteous, detached facade, and I followed suit, not wishing to provoke any further self-mutilating incidents. I had caused enough trouble already, the least I could d now was respect his wish for silence. The worst of the pain came from the knowledge that he did not wish me to stay. I knew that I couldn't, even had he asked me to, but I would have liked to think that he felt the same feelings towards me as I did towards him. Considering that I wasn't even sure of my own feelings, though, it was probably for the best that he didn't. After all, the last thing this man needed was any more mental and emotional confusion, and I would not have wished my somewhat fevered state of mind on anyone.

No, it was for the best that I would soon be gone. I had tried my hardest to force his heart open, but every time a crack appeared in his wall of ice, he built a new one, thicker than before and harder to break.

As if my heart was not giving me enough trouble, another fear preyed hungrily on my mind: what if Leon found me? I had barely escaped death before, would I be so lucky again? Erik seemed sure of my safety, sure that Leon would not be able to track me, but I could not help but doubt. Every time I tried to distract myself from thinking about Erik, I began to think about Leon, and I would shudder mentally. I would never forget the madness in his handsome face as he jeered at me through prison bars, the strength of his hands as he held me against the wall and laughed at my terror...

"Is something the matter?" Erik had noticed the change in my demeanor, the involuntary result of my current train of thought.

"No, not at all." He continued to stare at me, and I knew he was not fooled by my forced smile.

"You're a terrible liar." He observed.

"Am I that obvious?"

"Your eyes always give you away." I thought I heard tenderness in his voice when he said that, but then, it might just be the effect of too much strong wine.

"I'm just...well, worried. It really doesn't matter, it's nothing important."

"Perhaps I can help..." His hand reached out tentatively as if to take mine across the table, but was pulled back a second later.

"I doubt it."

"Ah, I see."

"See what?"

"You're afraid that if you leave, Leon will find you again, and you won't have enough luck left in you to escape. And you didn't want to tell me because you thought it was an irrational fear and were embarrassed."

"Good guess. When did you become so intuitive?"

He ignored my question, and excused himself from the table, telling me to wait here, that he would return in a moment. I did as he asked, and sat staring at the flickering candles, trying to fathom what my life would be like when I reached Marseille. The odd thing was, I couldn't get my mind off what my life would be like if Erik came with me. That, of course, was absurd. He would never leave this cave of his; he was too deeply entrenched in his lonely life to be convinced to leave, even if I had the courage to ask him.

I didn't hear him approach from behind me, and jumped up with surprise when he casually dropped a black silk covered package in front of me.

"What's this?"

"Consider it a farewell gift. Go on, open it."

I unwrapped the soft fabric, revealing a gleaming silver dagger. I gingerly picked it up; it seemed to fit my hand as if it had been made for me, and as a turned it over in my hands, it reflected the candlelight beautifully.

"It's...lovely. A little unexpected, but..."

"You need some way to defend yourself, Remy, and I thought this one would be a good size for you."

"That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you."

"I assume you kept the gun?"

"I did."

"Good. Try not to let anyone close enough that you need to use this, but I would hate to see you run out of bullets and have no way to fight. Though if you continue to hold it like that, you're far more likely to harm yourself than your enemy."

"You'll forgive me; it's been a long time since I've used a dagger."

"But you have used one?"

"You do remember me telling you about my childhood, don't you? You learn a lot of strange skills in a gypsy camp."

"Well, get up, and I'll give you a lesson to refresh your memory."

Before I could object that it really wouldn't be necessary, he had already walked over to the flat space in front of the organ, where there was the most room to move, and divested himself of his jacket and waistcoat.

"Come here." He commanded. I realized with a start that I had simply been standing there staring at him; I was only human, and I had always had a weakness for handsome, well-built men.

He took a second blade out of his desk drawer, and tried to show me how to hold mine, but the bandages on his hands made it difficult for him to demonstrate, and for some reason, being so near him was making my mind work sluggishly. Finally, he put his own dagger down, and wrapped his hand around mine, arranging my fingers into the proper position with his own. I heard him saying something about not letting the dagger get knocked out of my hand, but all I could thing about was how gently his hand touched mine, and how warm his breath was on the back of my neck.

For the next two hours, he showed me how to slash, how to stab, how to block an attack.. After explaining each motion, he would grasp my hand, and guide it through the technique he had just taught me. Then he picked up his own dagger and had me attack him and defend against his attacks. By the time I could fight to his satisfaction, I was sweaty and short of breath, and my hair clung to the back of my neck in a most unpleasant way. I also thought that I was starting to smell, but Erik didn't seem to notice anything.

"Well done, Remy." As I tried to catch my breath and respond, he put his own dagger back into its sheath, and brought me a glass of water, which I gulped down gratefully as he watched in ill-concealed amusement.

"If I may ask..." I acknowledged his request with a nod. "How did you manage to escape from prison in the first place?"

Oh dear, this might be embarrassing. I think he noticed the pink flush that rose in my cheeks.

"If you don't want to say..."

"I've already told you all the other details of my vapid existence, at least this story you might actually enjoy. On the night before I was to be burned at the stake-"

"I thought you said I would enjoy this story-"

"Well, I didn't actually die! Anyway, the night before, I was sulking in my cell, and I noticed that when the replacement guard arrived to begin the midnight shift, he had whiskey on his breath. He was reeling, and muttering under his breath, so I decided to...take advantage of his inebriated condition. So, I...well..I suppose you could say I seduced him." Erik's eyebrow shot up in amused surprise. "I made him all the kinds of promises lonely men love to hear, and when he got close enough, I knocked him unconscious with my meal tray and took the keys."

"How ingenious of you."

"A little less than subtle, but surprisingly effective."

"I would imagine so. What kind of fool would refuse a woman like you?" Now it was my turn to be surprised. What exactly had he meant by that? It was certainly a suggestive compliment, but I wasn't sure what he was suggesting. Perhaps he wasn't a compliment at all; perhaps he thought I was...was what? A whore? I didn't bother to respond, unsure as I was of what to say. After I was silent for a moment, trying to read his eyes, he turned from me abruptly and suggested that it would be best if I went to bed, as I was sure to need the sleep. Sensing that whatever chance we might have had was gone, I agreed.