A/N: Sorry for having that teaser and then nothing after it... Well, here it is. The proper first Chapter.
He was warm now. And tired. So tired. He wanted simply to fall back asleep, but the pain prevented him. Thirst plagued him and a growl from his stomach alerted to his hunger. The three plagues forced him to open his eyes and look at his surroundings.
"Madame! Madame! Il reveille!" said a voice, far too loudly. It sounded feminine, but when he turned to look at the source, it was masculine. It confused him greatly and caused the dull throb behind his temple grew to stab his brain. He groaned, but the voice continued.
"Will you stop you ceaseless yapping?" he snapped, but that led to a coughing fit.
"Sorry, monsieur! Sorry," said the she-boy. (What else was he going to call it? Its face was even that of a girl's! But its clothes and figure said otherwise.) The she-boy offered water to his lips. He took it warily, and studied the young she-boy. Its face was feminine, with soft angular features and wide brownish yellow eyes. Its hair fell to its shoulders, too short for a female, too long for a male. The hair shone a coppery brown in the firelight. A voice, female, spoke from the doorway.
"Erik, you are alive. Nicholas, go fetch some bread and broth from the kitchen."
The she-boy nodded and darted off.
Madame Giry strode forward, anger sketched across her aged face. She shook with either rage or self-control. She opened her mouth several times, trying to find the perfect words. Erik stared back at her until a sudden realization hit him.
"Where is my mask?"
"It broke, Erik. Meg tried to save it for you but it was damaged. The heat from the fire utterly destroyed it."
"I have been without my mask the entire time?"
"Yes."
"You show no fear. Nor did that… that boy."
"I have never had fear of your face. Nicholas, that is his name, has heard nothing of the rumors from the Opera House and knows nothing of your past. All he knows is that you are a poor, sick man who needed help. He found you, and has taken care of you since," Mme Giry said, softening.
"Oh."
That was all Erik could muster. He felt weak at the mention of the Opera House, his former home and love. He destroyed it, all because of that stupid girl- Christine. Pain tore at his chest with the mere thought of her. He loved her, with all his might. He did everything to have her, so show her his love. But she turned him away.
But for a fleeting moment, with her kiss, Erik felt the love returned him. It was wonderful and pure. It was not meant for him.
"Madame, I have the bread and broth," whispered Nicholas from the doorway. Mme Giry, who had been watching Erik's internal conflicts, nodded and motioned for the boy to come forward. He offered Erik the broth and bread.
"Eat," Nicholas whispered. "You need to eat. You've been sleeping for nearly two weeks. It's a miracle you're alive."
Erik looked away from Nicholas after accepting the food. He bit his tongue.
"Thank you," he finally said. Mme Giry smiled.
*Mme(s)= Madame(s)
On that note, Mlle(s)= Mademoiselle/Mesdemoiselles
M.= Monsieur
Messrs.= Messieurs