Author's notes: This chapter was purely the product of my boredom at school. The ending doesn't really mean anything – I'm not giving away the secrets yet! It could be anything, you know. Anyway, it's my birthday and I'm the one giving you presents! Ironic, isn't it?

Hsibelius – Don't worry, don't worry, here it is!

Mina – Yay! Cyber fudge!

Mominator – Mwahahaha!

Bre – I will, thanks!

Enrinye– I'm not gonna throw myself down a cliff after ya, Z!

Sandra – well… vaguely familiar, huh? Yes, they are finally reunited!

Moonjava – thanks!

X X X

Chapter XIII

X X X X

Touch.

The single thing denied to him throughout the years.

Touch and love.

The memory of holding an angel and watching her sleep, a faint smile remaining on her face, returned more than vividly. It was resurrected. He had anticipated the fainting spell and even if he wouldn't have, she fell slowly enough for him to catch easily.

It was an impulse to come here, really. The moment he knew it was indeed Christine, there was only one goal – to reach her. To see if she still remembered him. And then, to find out if the memory of him was a prized or a dreaded one.

Erik had about six seconds to see her looking into the mirror, her mind trying to determine if it was a mirage or reality. Then she said his name. She remembered. And for a moment, he managed to forget of her engagement to the Vicomte de Chagny as he admired her blanched face – the color was slowly returning, giving her cheeks a touch of rosy shades.

As if she were a ghost that could vanish easily, he held her limp form tightly, close to him. And she didn't pull away or shiver when coldness reached her flesh. A pale hand gently moved to caress the air just above her skin, then, fearfully and shyly, it made contact with her cheek, the touch feathery. Even now the coolness radiating from him didn't cause harm, but Christine sighed in her sleep softly, causing the hand to move away as quick as lightning.

Now wasn't the right time to wake her. After a long journey and a boring dinner, she had to be tired and the shock certainly didn't help. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow… tomorrow, the Vicomte would come for her. The boy would be allowed to touch her, receive her smiles… her kisses…!

Illusions were immediately shattered. In the presence of high society, Christine would likely quickly forget she ever knew him. And her fiancé would surely not be very happy to find out that she had once cared for someone like him, especially since that would require to elaborate why they were parted.

The golden orbs no longer shone warmth and love.

She was engaged. Why? Was the life of a diva not enough for her? With a voice of an angel and the appearance and personality matching that, to become a housewife would be an insult of her talent, a terrible waste! Or was she ensnared by the boy that much that she forgot her promises to her father – that she would study voice and become a prima donna?

Then again, the Vicomte was rich and handsome. He could provide her a life of wealth and comfort many women would kill and sell their souls for. Still, the Christine he knew and remembered spoke of poverty without shame, saying that music was what kept her family going. If she decided to marry and give up so much, there had to be more to the story than the surface belied. Some kind of background he never found out about.

Despite his own bitterness, it was still the boy he blamed, however.

Gently, he picked up Christine and carried her to the bed, laying her there. He brushed stray curls away from her face with care and admired the angel that had once again been thrust into his grasp.

Were it up to him, he would have stayed there all night, simply watching her and remembering the few moments of happiness they once shared. Senses told him, however, that someone was hurrying down the nearby corridor, a sound that made him withdraw swiftly and appear once more in the shadows of the corridor, a few steps behind the briskly walking figure.

"There is no need to patrol the palace tonight, daroga." Erik noted, with mild amusement, "Enough guards are watching over the guests."

The Persian almost did a double take as the sound of the voice reached him clearly, as if Erik were standing next to him. He turned swiftly and marched back to the masked man, outrage mixed with desperation on his face.

"You know I tolerate your disappearances, Erik, but couldn't you have picked a better night for showing-off your magician's skills? We should have been out of town by now!" he sighed dramatically, "Never mind that; what made you run off like that? Was the delegacy carrying a large chunk of ancient ruins you wanted to study? The last time you ran off like that, it was because of relics."

"Something from the past, yes, but not for studying. Only for admiration and care. Not all beautiful things in this world are made of stone, though some have their heart made of it. You cannot tell the difference until you see beneath the surface."

"Are you going to answer me or will the cryptic response have to suffice for the night?"

Erik shrugged lightly, "I am speaking quite clearly, daroga. Whether or not you understand my words is your problem alone."

"Can we at least go now?" Nadir shuddered slightly. "Sneaking off like this in the middle of the feast won't be easy…"

"We will manage just fine." Erik interrupted.

"…and I promised Reza I would come as soon as possible."

"Then off we go. I have just thought of a new trick to show him."

Nadir saw quite well that this was an attempt made to change the topic from whatever Erik sought to see. Though the Persian wasn't sure what it was yet, it was obviously of high importance to him. As a policeman by nature, he cautiously remembered where exactly Erik had reappeared, just for the sake of having the slightest idea where to begin the investigation as soon as they would return to Tehran.

X X X

Ironically, it was the sunlight that had woken her.

The gentle sunrays had entered the chamber, shining almost directly on her bed and into her eyes, causing her to squint. Christine wasn't a morning person, though she had gotten used to the tight schedule of the performers at the conservatoire. Night was beautiful to her, it had always been, for it reminded her of the happy days in Rome.

Opening her eyes, she observed the room around her. Persia, she remembered. So that part of the dream was real. She remembered a fancy dinner, then she unpacked her things, went to close the balcony door and then… she gasped.

With a single swing of her legs, Christine was on her feet, immediately running to the mirror. Her hands traced it, examined it, with effort, she actually managed to move it a bit away from the wall to see if there was something behind it… there was nothing. The mirror was perfectly normal, ordinary, if not overly polished. Nothing distinguished it from any other mirror.

Sighing, she threw herself on the bed. So it was a dream after all. But… now that she thought about it­… it couldn't have been a dream­. In her dreams, she saw Erik as she remembered him – a boy of fifteen, clearly tall and strong-built, but still a boy. In the mirror, yesterday night, she saw a man who she could have sworn a thousand times over was him.

The white mask was one of the few things that remained the same about him, but it wasn't that why she recognized him. It was the sparkling golden eyes. That was her first proof. She would have recognized the eyes anywhere. Then came the mask. What she saw of his face bore familiar features, his hair remained the same – dark and smooth, the color that matched his clothing.

It was Erik, without a doubt.

Things didn't make sense now. She would have to investigate this later. Currently, however, getting dressed was her first privilege, as she heard a soft knocking on the door.

"Little Lotte, are you awake?" Raoul´s voice asked from the corridor.

"Yes, Raoul, but I am still in my nightclothes – I need time to dress."

"Very well. I will come for you in five minutes – we have breakfast with the shah again. Will that be enough time for you to prepare?"

She nodded, though he couldn't see it. "It will. I will hurry."

Quickly moving to the closet, she chose a sky blue dress with little cornflowers on it as a sufficient morning attire and darted to the vanity table to prepare herself.

X X X

Throughout the whole stay at Nadir's house, Erik was rather detached from the events of the physical world, entering it only to please Reza, Nadir's son, with a new trick. Erik found he had a slight weakness for the boy, partially because he was so sick, partially because the boy accepted him without a second thought.

Nadir often saw him simply sitting in the garden, staring into space for hours at a time, just thinking. Not that thinking about things for long periods of time was unusual when it came to Erik, but this time, there was an aura of calm and satisfaction around him, as if something had managed to calm the fires that always seemed to burn within him.

Sometimes, the Persian would try to ask what was happening, but the answer was either irritated or cryptic, thus it seemed that either Erik was having fun infuriating him or, more probably, didn't want to answer the question… not yet.

He hated to admit it and certainly wouldn't say it out loud, but at times, he found himself counting each second until he would see Christine. He had no idea what to say to her, how to resume what had been cut off so abruptly five years ago, but knew that he had to see her and talk to her, whatever it would cost.

The return to Tehran, though it was just a day afterwards for Erik – Nadir was allowed to have a bit of a vacation for a few days, but the "eight wonder of the world" had to be present at the Persian court at all times - seemed to be an eternity later. The journey didn't take too long, thoughts of what lied ahead occupying him, until he finally reached the royal palace and had several servants feed his horses sufficiently. He cared for the animals enough to wait a few more moments until beginning his search for Christine.

It didn't take long.

It was as if the very essence of her stood out in the palace, but tracking her didn't prove as hard as one might have thought it would. He found her in the gardens where, apparently, the shah had decided to have a talk with her and the Vicomte, with him concerning the state affairs, with her concerning flattery and her feelings about becoming an aristocrat, probably.

He watched the group from afar for some time, because the sight of his angel was breathtaking, though in his opinion, the word was nowhere near describing what he felt. In a creamy off-white lace dress, clearly made of silk, she truly seemed to be an angel, the fabric giving the illusion that at any given moment, she could fly away.

Apparently, however, the dark colors he wore were a bit eye-catching, though he stood in the shadows of the building. The shah somehow noticed him and immediately made his way towards him, leaving the group behind with a polite excuse.

"Back already, my friend?" he asked.

Erik lowered his gaze as respectfully as he could. "I thought your majesty might be in need of my services, so I came. If not, please tell me how much time I have until that moment comes and I will use it for more productive activities than spying on diplomats."

The shah grimaced a bit. "At least you have plenty to see this time. The young Vicomte´s fiancée isn't the worst sight I've seen, quite the contrary." He then frowned. Showing off with such a talented servant was probably the best thing he could do! The idea quickly came to his mind. "Come, I shall introduce you to them. They are a young couple, French, like you, you might find some happiness in hearing your own language for a change."

After a brief calculation in his mind if this was a good idea, Erik decided to agree.

Several hundred feet away, Christine Daaé was turning pale as the tall man the shah had been conversing with stepped into the light. Even paler as she recognized him easily. Raoul´s words about how wonderful her dress was went unnoticed by her. There was nothing in the world, only the sight in front of her. Again, she had to remember to breathe.

It was Erik.

And he was looking at her, she knew, ever since the beginning, ever since he and the shah began walking towards them.

"My European friends, I would like to introduce Erik, my advisor and our resident eight wonder of the world, to you." The interpreter translated the shah's words to them.

Raoul seemed fascinated by the man in front of him, especially by the mask and the air around him that was filled with authority and mystique, the shah was too busy beaming with pride, thus no one noticed how Christine's breathing quickened. She closed her slightly opened mouth, prying her eyes away from the golden orbs that seemed to see right through her. She couldn't shake off the gaze, however.

"A pleasure to meet you both." Erik noted with polite indifference, still looking at Christine.

Raoul, surprised at hearing French, took no notice of this. "You are French, Monsieur?"

Briefly, Erik glanced at him. "Yes. My parents were both French, though it has been years since I have seen the country. I have traveled too far and for too long."

"Fascinating. I am Raoul de Chagny," he noted, extending his hand, which Erik took for a very short moment, releasing it almost immediately. It was still enough for the young nobleman to feel the coolness of the touch. Dismissing it, he took Christine's hand and brought her forward, vaguely noticing that as she walked those few steps, she trembled. "and this is Mademoiselle Christine Daaé, my fiancée and the future Vicomtesse."

Christine sucked in a breath as she met Erik's challenging gaze, daring her to play this game, and extended a timid hand towards him. Controlling his eagerness to grasp it, he looked at it with something close to fascination, then tenderly took it and gently brought it to his lips.

"An honor, Mademoiselle." He noted smoothly as he held the hand a bit longer, almost refusing to be parted from it.

Christine managed to regain her voice. "The honor is mine, Monsieur." she replied, silently praying that no one would take notice of the loud beats of her heart.

In that precise moment, however, it didn't matter the slightest. As he held her hand, Erik noticed one small detail he had missed before and the world turned upside down again. Was there no time to go shopping before they left? But no… that wasn't logical. Only one thing remained for sure.

The slender hand in his grasp lacked an engagement ring.