Haleybob, again! Hope you liked the first cause it's only gonna get better!
DISCLAIMER: I don't and never will own Phantom of the Opera. ... But i can own my KEYBOARD!! (types new chapter)
Part Two:
Meg quickly called a pair of stagehands to carry the 'boy' up to her mother's room. Madame Giry, who had been sorting through some papers, accepted them in then instructed the stagehands to set the child on the couch. Looking the boy over, Madame Giry looked at her daughter. "What have we here, Meg?" she asked as the stagehands left.
"This is Monsieur Lark," Meg indicated the 'boy's' unconscious form. "He was looking for a room just for tonight. He paid, of course..." Meg slipped out the coins and handed them over to her mother.
Madame Giry frowned as she counted them, "Wouldn't an inn be more reasonable? There is quite a bit of money here; I'd say enough for five days at least."
"No room, all the inns are full this month." Meg answered promptly.
Lark groaned and tried to sit up but Madame Giry pushed him firmly back down. Feeling his forehead, Madame Giry swiftly pulled back her hand as though it were burned; the boy's head was on fire. Lark could feel only the chill from the outdoors and was oblivious to the fact that she was burning in temperature.
"Meg, fetch a bowl of cold water and some tonic," she checked Lark's eyes and pulse; "the poor thing has a fever, a bad one I must say too."
Lark's eyes snapped open and she frantically tried to sit up again only to be pushed down by Madame Giry.
"No! I-I cannot be sick!" she gasped, Mama had gotten sick once…but she didn't get well… "I have to leave in the morning, I cannot stay!"
Madame Giry shushed her, "We will take care of things while you are ill, Monsieur Lark. You can pay us back later; I daresay that you have enough to pay for your medical bill."
Lark bit her tongue and swallowed the tonic that was brought up to her mouth in a spoon by Meg. She couldn't stay and not let them know she wasn't a boy. 'Yes,' she decided to herself, 'I'll just tell them and that's it.'
"Mademoiselle?" she asked timidly.
"It's 'Madame Giry,'"
Lark blushed, "Sorry," she apologized, "but Madame Giry? I have to say that I'm no monsieur, I'm a girl. Please don't tell anyone else who I am, don't ask me why though…" Madame Giry was shocked but not angry; she smoothed the girl's short damp hair away from her face. "Well, mademoiselle," she said, "we will still allow you to stay and I will respect your wishes and not tell anyone you are a girl." Lark smiled weakly at her and thanked her for her kindness.
"But first we will need you to stay in another room, for you cannot stay here in my room." Said Madame Giry, straightening her dress as she stood up; she seemed to think about something as Lark watched her with feverish eyes.
"We will have to move you into another room, mademoiselle," Madame Giry finished. Lark couldn't be sure but she had thought she heard Madame Giry mutter under her breath, "Even if Erik is displeased, the girl needs a room to stay in; she did pay for herself anyway…" Turning to the girl, she asked her what age she was.
"I'll be thirteen in a week or so," was the soft reply. Madame Giry only nodded.
As Madame Giry left the room Lark felt the tonic starting to make her feel drowsy 'I wonder who Monsieur Erik is,' she thought before sleep had claimed her for its own.
In the hallway, the man called 'Monsieur Erik' was perched silently on a rafter, smirking at the stagehands that bustled what looked like a young boy into Madame Giry's room with Meg in the lead. 'Oh what trouble a simple ill child can make for soft-hearted fools, he thought grinning wickedly. With no more thoughts or cares on the matter, the man vanished from his perch into the darkness that surrounded him.
Again, sorry that it is short but this is my original work. The ones that have been updated will have a little mark next to the top, so you'll know which one's I've fixed. Reviews are beautiful in my eyes!