The 'impromptu rehearsal' seemed to last for hours. Cecily, alone in the dormitories, set about straightening up the room. She straightened wrinkled sheets, picked up out-of-place ballet shoes, and slid unmentionables out of sight. Lord knows what such things would set off in the men's minds if they were to walk in and see them. Finally, she set herself to her own bed. She would be moving out, into another dormitory, the one that held the girls she would be watching over. She gathered everything in her sheets. She didn't have much, only a few changes in clothes and some vanity items. Everything else she needed could be procured when the time came from the various departments within l'Opera.

She had bundled up everything except the package Erik had sent her. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she slipped out of her frock and into the dress, which was luxurious by comparison. She couldn't help but smile, and she spun childishly. She loved the feel of spinning. Even in the most confined spaces, those tight, quick circles made her feel like she was flying. When she stopped, she reached out for the bedpost to steady her swirling head.

She stood there for a moment, breathing deeply, enjoying the moment. Suddenly, she heard her name being called. Her eyes snapped open. The sound seemed to have come from within the bedpost, but that was certainly impossible. She turned, trying to find the true source of the voice.

"Cecily…" It came again, this time from under the bed. She had to stop herself from bending over to assure herself there was no one there. There wasn't, she was sure, and she wan't going to make a fool of herself stooping over to check.

"If I ask it of you, Cecily, will you still return?"

Cecily's breath caught in her throat. It was him! What could she say? She couldn't turn him away; she had given her word. Neither could she simply leap up and wait for him to lead the way. Swallowing thickly, the words came slowly, but seemingly of their own accord, "Do you ask it?"

"I do."

"Then I will return." Her throat was suddenly dry, the words scratchy and empty. Where was he?

She was looking for him when she heard his voice again, closer this time. "Then come." He was direcly behind her, his hand extended as he helped her through a passage that most certainly had appeared out of the paneled wall.

As the door swung closed behind them, utter darkness surrounded them. Cecily's stomach tightened painfully, and she squeezed Erik's hand, moving close enough behind him to feel the trail of his cloack.

He felt the pressure on his hand, and turned to make sure that she was well. Even with eyes adjusted to the dark, there was no way her vision could penetrate the blackness surrounding them. She still dwelt in the light. But what had caused the sudden burst of fear? Surely it wasn't the darkness itself? It had to be him. But why then draw closer to him? Did she truly fear the dark?

He reached his other hand over and placed it on her shoulder, walking next to her through her tunnel. She leaned into him, feeling his movements in the darkness. She tried to absorb his confidence, the strength and familiarity with this place that he exuded. Surely there was nothing that would harm her here. Of course there wasn't; she was being silly.

At the sound of a scurrying rat, she pressed closer to him, clutching his arm like a lifeline. "What was that?"

"Only a rodent, my dear. It is far more frightened of you than you are of it."

She snorted disbelievingly. "I doubt it. Well, I'm not really all that scared of rats. Normally they don't bother me, but…"

He turned the both of them making the final descent to his lair. "It's the dark, isn't it?"

She hesitated, nodded, then remembered he probably couldn't see it. "Yes."

He slid away another panel revealing the music room. He sprang lithely down, a good four feet to the floor. She sat on the edge and slid into his aiding arms.

"I have never understood the fear of the dark. There is nothing there in the dark that is not present in the light."

She paused on the steps and looked back at him, the record of her inner debate etched into her face. "Exactly."

He wanted to press her as to what she meant, but the look on her face warned him against it. For a moment, he simply stood and watched her walk through the rooms. She was tired, he could tell. It was strange to him still, despite her visits, having this girl in his most sacred place. He felt the urge to ask her to come more often, but wasn't sure how to go about it.

She ran her fingers over the leather covers of the books on the shelf, and he was struck with an idea. "Cecily?"

She turned to him, her fingers lingering on the dusty shelf. "Hmm?"

"Would you like to learn to read those books?"

Her face was filled instantly with a guarded hope. "Why?"

"I thought perhaps you would like to learn, and it is a skill I have."

"You would really teach me?"

He nodded. He must not let her know that he craved her presence as much as she desired the knowledge in the books. "If you would return down here from time to time, I will spare some time. What do say to that?"

A smile slowly broke over her face. "Thank you so much, Erik! I don't even know what to say!" She ran over to him and threw her arms around him. He shifted uncomfortably, and she released him, suddenly awkward herself. "Thank you, Erik! I will come back here as often as I can."

She didn't know that there were no words he would have rather heard.