Disclaimer: I don't own Erik or anything that obviously belongs to someone else, such as The Magic Flute or Robert le Diable. I gave credit where credit was due for those in the story where the credit really belongs. As a consolation prize, I do own Danielle D'Artoi. The song that Erik sings in this chapter contains my humble lyrics. I'm sure that he would do a better job, but you work with what you have.

A/N: I have to make a special shout-out to angel-lover elysian for giving me such a great review and for recommending me to her friends.

A/N: If you review, and you would find it offensive if I dedicate a chapter to you, or give you a shout-out, please tell me so. I don't want to offend any of my readers.

A/N: I am also celebrating the fact that I have gotten more than 20 reviews thus far. I have also gotten more than 1000 hits! Yayness! A new chapter for everyone to celebrate how cool you are!

Chapter Nine: A Seed

Danielle

There was a beautiful sound somewhere. Danielle didn't quite know what it was. Perhaps it was a dream. The music, for she was now able to positively identify it as music, was gently pulling her out of her slumber. She opened her eyes to find herself, not lying on a lumpy couch in her dressing room, but in a soft, warm bed. Danielle groped about in the dark for a few moments and located a lamp on the table beside the bed. She lit it with a hesitating hand, and the room was immediately illuminated. She caught sight of the vanity mirror and everything came back to her.

She had been taken, in the middle of the night, from her music room, through the mirror, down into the lowest part of the opera house where Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, dwelt. Where she had agreed to dwell. She was suddenly feeling light-headed. Had it really been a good idea to consent to live alone with a man she knew little about, far away from any other human being? Despite her head's logic, Danielle's heart trusted Erik. He had shown her nothing but kindness and respect for as long as she had known him, which was an admittedly short time.

Danielle bathed and raided the wardrobe again, choosing an outfit that matched her eyes at their darkest green.

When she finally ventured out, Erik stopped playing and turned around to face her. He seemed to freeze, his muscles tensing, at the sight of her. Little did she know that she looked positively enchanting in the candlelight.

Danielle stepped lightly towards him, trying to avoid the papers scattered all over the floor. She noticed with some embarrassment that he wasn't dressed as flawlessly as usual. He wore an open white shirt and a loose black robe. Danielle tore her eyes away from the exposed chest, looking, instead, into his eyes. She realized too late that they weren't any safer territory. He really did have amazing eyes, no matter what light, or lack thereof, they were in.

Erik's calm voice startled her when he asked, "Did you find your bedroom satisfactory?"

"Of course," she answered with a laugh. "It's a palace compared to the dressing room I've been sleeping in for the past year. It's even more comfortable than my room at home."

"I'm glad you like it. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to inform me. I wish you to feel at home here."

"You're incredibly thoughtful, Erik, but I couldn't impose upon you," she told him. She moved to the chair she had occupied the night before, blissfully unaware that by doing so, she had established a niche for herself.

"There would be no imposition."

There was a short pause, neither really knowing what to say. Danielle decided to keep the conversation on comfortable, distracting topics.

"What exactly do you do to amuse yourself here?"

"I have several books and I enjoy art," he said, "but most of my time is spent with my music. I play the organ and the piano as you have already seen, but I also play the violin. I compose almost every day. We will, of course, be continuing your lessons."

"Then I doubt I shall ever be bored," she assured him.

This statement was quite true. Erik brought down all of her possessions, including the piano. Once she got back from rehearsals, they would have a lesson, dine, and then take turns playing and singing to one another, much to the delight of both. Danielle was also able to continue her compositions. She found that in the presence of Erik's genius, melodies were coming much more easily and more beautifully.

Erik

He was playing one of his most despairing compositions. Erik had lost something very dear to him, or perhaps he was about to lose it. He was coaxing the soft melody out of his violin with such a mournful tone that demons would have wept had they been privy to his secret wretchedness.

But wait! It wasn't so secret. His pupil was standing in her doorway, bathed in glowing light, listening to him. There was pity in her grey eyes, a heart-breaking pity for him. That wasn't what Erik wanted from her. He wanted her passion, her love, her soul. He wanted her all, not scraps of feeling. He desired nothing more or less than to inspire her every thought.

Not taking his eyes off of her, the music issuing from his instrument glided into a different piece, and a different emotion, entirely. Danae's head jerked upward, and her eyes widened in shock as she recognized that emotion: lust. She moved forward as her reaction changed to that of intrigue. Erik stopped only when her face was inches away from his.

"Why are you here," he breathed.

"I have to be here, Erik," she whispered with a coy smile playing about her tempting lips.

"You're not making your purpose any clearer, my songbird."

"I need to be here with you, near you. I can't stand it any longer," she said, suddenly sounding tormented. "I've seen the way you look at me. I know how you feel. Well," she continued after a slight pause, as if she were bolstering her courage, "I feel the same way about you, Erik. I need you to be more than my friend or my teacher. Hold me," she pleaded.

Erik was more than happy to oblige. He moved behind her and gently slid his arms around her waist. It felt so good to hold a woman again. It had been so many years since he had shown a woman that he was a man. Erik buried his face in her hair and sighed, "I need you, too, Danae."

She said in a low, seductive tone, "I'm yours."

Erik turned her around to face him. He had never felt so much bliss after hearing two simple words before. He tightened his grip with one arm and allowed the other hand to slide down to her hip. He could feel her arms rise to his neck. Danae brought her lips to his for one searing kiss and then –

He woke up.

The dream had been longer than usual. It normally ended with either him holding her, or her whispered, "I'm yours." Erik felt sick at this, his betrayal. Danielle was his student. She trusted him, and he was having naughty fantasies concerning her! Besides, he was at least thirty years old; she would turn nineteen in two month's time. He had seen much of the world, while she had never set foot out of France. Danielle was wise beyond her years, yes, but she was an innocent in the ways of the world.

How could he continue to face her everyday when thoughts of her lips distracted him?

Danielle

It was announced two weeks after Danielle took up residence with Erik that auditions for Robert le Diable by Meyerbeer would be held later that month. The managers had still not discovered a suitable replacement for their last diva. It was nothing short of distressing. Until they could find a new prima donna, they would simply have to hold auditions for every production due to their lack of a contracted leading lady.

Erik assured Danielle that by the auditions, she would be ready to take one of the female leads, probably Alice, Robert's innocent foster-sister, who saves Robert from Satan, his father. They began working on Danielle's audition piece, The Queen of the Night's aria from The Magic Flute by Mozart.

Erik and Danielle were both thrilled at the improvement she made daily. When they sang duets to pass the time, it seemed to Danielle that their souls, as well as their voices, were creating harmony. It was as if their spirits were mingling through their shared song. It was an intense sensation that confused and scared and pleased her all at once. Danielle really couldn't believe her luck. Why would she be so blessed as to work with Erik? When she prayed, she always added her thanks for her time with him.

The night before the Robert le Diable auditions, Erik was confident that the part of Alice was hers, but Danielle was extremely nervous. She went to bed early at his behest, but she only lay awake for hours, waiting for the dawn, while dreading it at the same time. The lengthening hours grew tedious. Erik had decided not to work so that he wouldn't disturb her, but it was just too quiet. She had gotten used to hearing him at work and missed it. When Danielle felt that she would go mad, she left her room, still in her nightgown and a light robe.

"Trouble sleeping," asked a cool voice to her right. It was strange how that voice still sent shivers up her spine after so many weeks hearing it. She turned toward the voice. Erik was at his writing desk, looking up at her with his one visible eyebrow raised.

"My stomach is filled with butterflies. I think they're in my chest, too," she admitted. "Every time I think of the auditions, I get restless, and I think I'm bound to fail. I just know I'll forget something you told me to do. I may forget everything you've taught me completely," she said, sounding panicked. And, she added to herself, you'll be so disgusted that you'll never want to see me again.

"You won't fail, or forget. You have a rather astounding teacher, you know," Erik said with a smirk. "And your teacher has a very remarkable student," this time with more warmth than Danielle had ever heard him use. She felt herself getting red in the face.

"I hope you're right," she said shakily.

"I'm always right."

"Modest, too," she answered with a giggle.

"Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?"

"Well, there is on thing," she muttered shyly, not sure how best to continue. "But it's stupid; you wouldn't want to."

"What is it?"

"Would you sing me to sleep? Please?"

Apparently he hadn't expected such a request. His eyes became very round before saying that he would. She didn't notice that his perpetually unruffled voice didn't sound quite so composed as usual.

"Oh, thank you, Erik," she said gratefully, opening the door of her bedroom and walking in. "Come in."

Erik moved to the door, but hesitated at the threshold. Seeing his reluctance to enter, Danielle called from the bed, which she was sitting on, "Please do it in here; there's nowhere else for me to lie down."

He finally walked in and over to the bed. Danielle moved to the middle and invitingly patted the spot she had just vacated. Erik took a seat next to her, suddenly very aware of how hot his face was. Danielle casually pulled his arm up and around her shoulders.

Then Erik began to sing. Danielle immediately recognized the tune as the song he had written for her. He had never sung her the lyrics.

"Come, my love, heal my broken spirit.

Come to me and let me have your heart.

Show me how to live and love again.

Come to me and never let us part.

I'm yours, so just let be near you.

That is all your fond servant needs.

If you listen closely, you will hear it.

The beating of my heart for thee.

Danielle closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of Erik's arm, and voice, wrapped around her. The last thing she heard as she was growing sleepy was his soft voice. The last thing she thought was, If only it were true.

Erik

It was amazing how much torture he would have to suffer. The gesture of asking him to sing her to sleep was sweet, but forcing him to sit on her bed and hold her was the worst of unwitting cruelties. How could she know how much he longed for her? How could she realize that he would kill for one kiss? How could she understand that his feelings for her, feelings he did not want, were always standing by to flame up and grip him? His fragile heart couldn't take this type of punishment. He could hardly breathe as he began singing.

As the song flowed around them both, he willed Danielle to believe his words. He was more sincere than he had ever been.

When Erik finished the song, he looked down at the head resting on his shoulder and saw that she was sleeping peacefully. He gently disentangled himself from Danielle's sleeping form, careful not to wake her. He knelt by her bedside and gazed at the sight before him.

He loved Danielle. He loved her. Even after swearing that he would protect his heart from all females everywhere for the rest of his life, this girl had, without meaning to, without comprehending it, sown a seed of love in his heart that was now flourishing. How could this have happened? And after he had known her all of three months! It had taken him years to fall in love with Christine, but, of course, that hadn't happened until she had grown up a bit. He hadn't realized that his feelings had become anything but that of teacher for pupil until she had turned fifteen. So how had his fondness for this girl become so deep in so short a span of time?

The answer came quite easily, actually. Erik had fallen in love with her – no, come to love her – because of the smiles she sent his way, because of the gentle words she used with him, and because of the endless hours he spent searching her soul through her voice, her face, and her words. Erik's own efforts, as well as Danielle's natural kindness, had chipped away at his defenses. She treated him differently than any woman had ever treated him before, so he must have been doomed from the start. There was nothing left but to admit defeat. Danielle had won whether she knew she was playing the game, or not.

Erik allowed himself the luxury of reaching out and caressing her warm cheek. Danielle squirmed a little in her sleep, pressing her face to his hand. He reluctantly stood up and crossed to the open door. Before he closed it, he distinctly heard her whisper one word: Erik. That was nearly his undoing.

Back in his own bedroom Erik began pacing and arguing with himself. Did he dare to hope for her love? Had she fallen asleep because of his voice or because his arm had been around her at the time? Had she taken comfort from his voice or from his presence? Surely it was simply his voice. But, then again, she had whispered his name.

Erik spent hours meticulously examining every detail of the five or six minutes he had spent with Danielle, trying to find any hidden meanings in her words and actions that could justify the hope attempting to blossom in his chest. He only succeeded in sending his head spinning. He would have to be patient and wait for any evidence that would support or disprove his suspicions. Until then, Erik would enjoy the memory of that one night, that one moment in time.

A/N: Well, Erik has finally admitted his true feelings for her, if only to himself. As they say, admitting you have a problem is the first step. Not that it's really a problem, but it will seem that way to Erik for a while.