Hurray Finals are over! Which means better update times. Thanks for all the nice reviews. I always enjoy hearing from those who are reading my story. But anyway enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: It is sad but I don't own the Phantom characters. Everyone else I do own! YAY!

Chapter 11: To Forgive and Forget

A week dragged by with excruciating sluggishness. Erik had never been more bored in his entire life. Even in the early days under the Opera, before he established the legend of the Phantom, he had found ways to entertain himself. Yet this place, though far more comfortable than the theater's cellars, was driving him into madness. Day and night the only things he had to occupy his mind were the comforts of his own thoughts. Which, as it turned out, were no comfort at all.

The days had settled into an uncomfortable routine. Brielle would appear at meal time to deposit a tray of food, only to immediately take her leave of him. An hour later, on the dot, she would return and remove the dishes. Never once in the seven days since he had struck out at her had she spoken a single word to him. Yet when he had warily requested some clothing, she had brought a pair of clean trousers and a plain cotton shirt at his next meal. She was good to him despite her anger.

Her face had not once betrayed the fury she obviously had been nursing. She was as expressive as a statue and cold as stone. The return of her icy façade was distressing; despite himself he missed her shy smiles. A fact which infuriated him, of course.

Her silence fed his ever growing guilt. It had taken him days to realize the atrocity of his actions, yet, he could not bring himself to openly speak of the issue. Something about the hurt he had seen in her eyes silenced any words he might have said. He had never apologized to another human being in all his years upon the Earth; now that one was required of him he had no idea as to how to go about it. Everything he thought of as he lay in bed seemed trivial when compared to the tears almost shed over his cruelty.

Worse yet than the curses and scathing remarks he had hurled at the young girl were his violent outbursts. More violent than he had known. In her temper Brielle had revealed that he had not only struck out with words, but with his fist as well. She had the black eye to prove her accusations, which he was sure would never have been mentioned if she had not lost her cool.

Over the week he had come to realize she was too good to intentionally lay that kind of guilt at his feet. With nothing else to occupy himself, he had resorted to observing his hostess with an intense scrutiny. He had learned by his surveillance many of her oddities.

She hid her emotions behind serene features to protect herself, yet he had come to see that Brielle was far from a calm creature. Her tempers were biting, her joys absolute. Often he had heard her laughter ringing down the hallways, as well as her outraged bellows. But odder still were the bashful tendencies to which she was prone. It came at strange times, her shyness, and often appearing when in his presence. It betrayed just how vulnerable she really was. Which made his violence towards her all the more horrifying.

Oh, and how he did feel the guilt of his actions. He had struck a woman; despite the fact he had been out of his mind with the fever at the time, he still felt sick with the knowledge. True he had spent his life blackmailing and terrorizing all those who had lived within the Paris Opera house, but it had never been personal. If anything it was business and no one had ever gotten hurt.

At least it had been business until he had been blinded by love. Love for Christine and for her angelic voice - and even then it had never been his intention to harm anyone, everything had just gone terribly wrong. God how he still missed her, despite her betrayal and the unintentional brutality of her flight from the Opera. Stop it! Do not think of her anymore. She left you to die alone in the darkness. Do not let her poison your mind any longer!

Erik sighed and turned onto his side, his eyes moving to stare out the window at the snow draped landscape outside. By the level of the sun he could tell it was early afternoon, but the day already seemed to have lasted an eternity. He didn't know if he could withstand another hour of confinement with his own thoughts. Every time he thought of Christine his heart broke all over again. The week had not served to dull the pain. Even the tinkling of exquisite piano music from elsewhere in the house could no longer distract him from his brooding thoughts.

The monotony was slowly weaving cobwebs within his brain, just as a solitary spider was in the corner of the room. Erik could feel himself growing more sluggish every day he had nothing with which to occupy his powerful intellect. Despite the extent of his guilt, it was the boredom which drove him towards an apology.

Sitting up in bed, Erik turned his thoughts away from the Opera and what had happened two weeks ago towards a way to solve his immediate problem. Surely an apology cannot be too difficult, he thought sourly as his brows drew down in concentration. After all she is a woman. I am sure I can convince her that I had no intention of spilling that damned bowl. He pursed his lips as he considered several possible ways to word his apology.

Erik's thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room slowly swung open. The absence of the usual polite knock slightly startled him. Brielle had made a point of always knocking before she entered. He was unable to see who had come into the room due to the thick drapery at the end of the bed, but the sound of light pattering footsteps could be heard crossing the room.

The footsteps slowed as they reached the foot of the bed and then grew silent; it sounded almost as if the person were tiptoeing around the end of the bed. Erik was quite sure Brielle was not the kind of woman to tiptoe, so the natural conclusion was that a stranger had entered his room. This fact instantly set him on edge.

Brielle had treated the oddity of his mask as a simple fact. She had never appeared to notice it, let alone ask about it. What could he say - the girl was odd. Yet he doubted a stranger would be as understanding. The possibility that he would have to put up with some moron's gawking sent him into a rage. Erik's entire body tensed between the sheets.

His shoulder muscles strained under his borrowed cotton shirt as he listened to the soft footsteps round the corner of the bed. A moment passed as his eyes scanned the room for the intruder. Yet, no one appeared. With a whoosh he let out a relieved breath. I must be going mad after all, he thought absently as he let his eyes slide shut with relief, his head leaning back against the headboard.

Erik had just begun to turn his thoughts back towards his dreaded apology when he distinctly felt a weight buckle the mattress on the opposite side of the bed. His eyes snapped open and with a gasp he jerked away from the new presence, nearly falling clean out of the bed.

He had barely begun to right himself when the delirious giggling of a child punctuated the silence of the house. His mouth fell open in astonishment when he caught sight of the little girl now perched on the edge of the bed. The child had shoulder length straight black hair tied up with a green ribbon and large, beguiling gray eyes. Somehow, her features were strangely familiar. She is almost the mirror image of Brielle.

The pair stared at each other in silence for several moments, Erik too shocked to speak and the child too busy scrutinizing his face. He waited for the moment when the toddler's face would contort in fright at his mask; children were the most open with their emotions. Children held no compunctions about throwing insults; they were the most honest and cruel faction of humanity. Yet the moment he dreaded didn't come. The little girl merely sat grinning at him.

With a fierce frown darkening his features, Erik finally found his voice. "Who the hell…" He ground to a halt, feeling odd cursing in front of the babe. "Er, rather, who are you? What do you want?"

The child stared at him in confusion, picking nervously at the bed linens. "Y-You talk funnier t-than daddy's family does. And t-they are f-from England." She said in stuttering English before raising a thumb to her mouth. His frown didn't appear to be having any effect on the girl whatsoever. Damned if she isn't as irritating as Brielle.

Erik repeated his question in fluent, if slightly accented, English. At his words the child's grin widened about the thumb in her mouth. "M-My name is Arianna Donovan. I u-used to l-live in Ireland b-but Momma hates daddy's snobby family so now we l-live here. Where are you from? Y-You have a pretty v-voice. Y-you still t-talk funny though."

Taking a breath, Aria barreled on. "Momma said I wasn't s-supposed to c-come in here, and if she c-catches me I bet I w-won't get no desert. A-Are you really mean? That is what M-Momma says." With that final statement Aria fell silent, patiently waiting for an answer to the multitude of questions she had been able to pose with two breaths.

Do all children blather on so? Or is this one just special? Erik thought, thoroughly astonished at the girl's penchant for words. He hardly knew how to respond.

"If you are not supposed to be in here then should you not leave immediately? And yes I am horribly mean. Your mother is correct in warning you."

Aria merely stared at him, incredulous, once again ignoring the scowl upon his face. "Y-you don't look so mean," she stated, scooting closer to him over the sheets. At her advance Erik drew back, pulling the linens up further over his chest.

"Looks can be deceiving," he growled.

Giggling, Aria drew back until her back end hung off the edge of the bed. Her legs dangled several moments until her toes found the floor and she took off across the room. "Y-you are a funny m-man!" she screeched with delight. "But I h-have to go n-now or I'll b-be caught! M-momma is calling m-me!"

Flabbergasted, Erik shook his head at the retreating toddler. "I don't hear anything," he said absently just before the sound of Brielle's voice cut through the silence of the house. How did she know…Wait a second…Brielle is her mother?

The child disappeared through the doorway, leaving the door slightly ajar. The sound of her stocking covered feet faded down the hall. Moments later, the familiar clicking of Brielle's low heeled boots came hurrying to his door. A knock sounded before the young woman burst into the room, her gray eyes quickly scanning the space before settling on Erik.

"By any chance have you seen a little girl run through here? For some reason she is finding it funny to hide from me today. Who would have thought the word 'bath' could make children disappear!" With a huff Brielle ran a hand through her hair, pulling some of the strands free from their braid. At Erik's startled look she quickly dropped her hand to her side, clearing her throat.

The moment Brielle had entered his room Erik's heart had leapt up into his throat. Her presence only served to remind him that he was required to come up with an apology, and quickly. At least that is what he told himself was the reason for his odd reaction.

"Uh, no I haven't seen a child today," Erik replied hastily, mysteriously covering for the little girl who had been to visit. Brielle didn't seem convinced, seeing as she bent down to glance under the bed as he lied to her. Damn if that woman can't read my mind.

"Look here boyo," Brielle began, her irritation coloring her cheeks. "I have been chasing that little demon about the house for over an hour now. And if I don't lay hands upon her soon I won't have time to finish dinner, which means you are going to go hungry tonight!" She took a threatening step towards the bed. "So you better fess up immediately or it will be prisoner rations for you!"

"Ohhh, you were talking about the little dark haired child who was just in here? Well then, yes she came for a visit but left just before you arrived," Erik consented easily, a surprisingly amused expression gracing his handsome features. He couldn't help but silently laugh at Brielle's exasperated appearance. His nervousness over his pending apology fled in front of Brielle's frustration.

With a growl Brielle whirled to stalk out of the room but Erik's voice stopped her. "Wait a moment I have something I wish to say," he began, sitting up straight on the bed. "I have been thinking about the subject for some time now, and I believe this would be a good time to discuss the issue."

"Oh now is a good time for you is it?" she asked pleasantly as she turned back towards the bed, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Well yes. You are here now. And since what I have to say involves you, it is a good time." Erik said hurriedly, the nervousness returning to curl within the pit of his stomach as Brielle turned her attention back to him. He completely missed the unmasked annoyance upon her face.

He cleared his throat before continuing. "Now I am not a man used to asking for anything. So in a way you should be happy about what I am about to ask of you." Erik pursed his lips in concentration, his dark brow drawing low. "I am not totally blind to the fact that you have been taking very good care of me these past weeks." He stopped then, having no idea how to continue.

Rolling her eyes skywards, Brielle prayed for patience when Erik paused in his prattling, obviously skirting the issue. Erik's ego was like none she had ever encountered before.

"To get to the point," he continued, raising his eyes to her face. "I have been thinking over the incident with the porridge bowl last week and I just wanted to impart to you that I really had no intention to knock the bowl from your hands. It was an accident, so I ask you to try and put the incident from your mind, " he finished, believing his part was complete. Erik was shocked to discover Brielle did not seem all that moved by his efforts to apologize.

"Well that was the poorest excuse for an apology I have ever had the misfortune to hear. You act like I should be grateful to you for even taking a stab at saying you are sorry."

That was not the reaction Erik had been hoping to hear. "Well excuse me! I wasn't aware you had such high standards. It should be enough that I tried, I told you I wasn't used to asking for anything!" he sputtered in outrage.

Brielle merely fisted her hands upon her hips, girding herself for battle. "It should be obvious that my standards are in fact low. After all I let you into the house didn't I! And I never said you had to be good at apologizing, just that you apologize. So far you haven't done so."

"What do you think I was just doing! I said I didn't intend to dump that porridge on you!" he roared, struggling free from the sheets and clambering to his feet.

"Yes, and the road to hell is paved with good intentions. It is our actions which speak the loudest of our character. And your character so far has proved lacking! You have behaved appallingly but at least act like an adult and admit it!" she shot right back at him, her features only barely holding onto the calm façade she was affecting.

"I will admit nothing of the sort! After all if you had just paid attention to my wishes in the first place, that bowl never would have been upset!"

Brielle advanced across the room until she stood mere inches from Erik where he leaned against the bed post. Her face turned up towards his, her eyes flashing and her chest heaving in agitation.

"So it is my fault is it then?" she hissed, raising a finger to wave about in his face.

"Waspish, bull headed…witch of a woman!"

"Of all the arrogant, egotistical…pig headed…"

"Ha! And is it not usually the woman's fault! Did not Eve seduce Adam with the fruit of knowledge!" he growled, batting her finger away from his face.

"Oh and isn't it just like a man to quote the Bible when it suits him! Now you listen to me and you listen hard," she ground out through clenched teeth, her accent nearly tilting her French beyond recognition. "Do not try and convince me that apologizing is so monumental a task that you cannot manage it! It is your pride which stops you, not the apology itself! And until you do apologize I will be a thorn in your side every waking moment!"

"This is what I get for trying to act the gentleman! I get a hysterical woman screaming insults at the top of her lungs and…."

"OHH! JUST SAY YOU ARE SORRY!" she screamed, pulling at her hair with both hands.

"FINNE! I AM SORRY!" he bellowed back into her face, his eyes hot enough to cause the sun to break out in a sweat.

They both fell silent then, each glaring at the other with enough intensity to burn a hole through steel. Slowly Brielle began to relax, her breath coming slower and her eyes cooling to calmer temperatures. When a radiant smile lit up her features, Erik could only stare at her, stunned.

"Now that wasn't so hard was it? Next time perhaps we can skip the boxing match and merely go straight to the apology."

"You provoked me on purpose?" he asked, amazed at her brazen attitude.

"Absolutely," she said, raising a hand to pat his chest just as she would stroke a horse in order to calm it. Erik sucked in a breath at her touch, unused to such casual human contact.

Unexpected electricity raced through the tips of Brielle's fingers when she brushed the cotton of his shirt. She instantly withdrew her hand as if she had been burnt glancing quickly up to Erik's face to see if he had noticed her odd behavior. An intense unnamable emotion flashed behind his bottomless blue eyes before quickly sinking beneath the surface. Brielle quickly looked away, pretending she hadn't noticed anything odd as she took a step back to a safer distance. What is this strange feeling? they both thought at once, before simultaneously discounting the sensation to fading temper.

"Perhaps we should take this opportunity to begin again," Brielle said calmly, the smile still shining upon her face. "I am sure we both merely started off on the wrong foot. From now on let's at least try to be civil to each other…maybe if we both are careful we can even become friends."

"Friends…?" Erik repeated quietly, as if the word were a foreign concept he couldn't quite understand. His eyes quickly lost their angry heat in his confusion.

All of a sudden he looks so sad, she thought, her smile dimming.

Nodding her head Brielle stuck out her right hand. "Absolutely. I am sure we can be friendly towards each other if we work at not screaming. I am willing if you are. Is it a deal?"

Erik blinked at her, confounded by her question. Slowly, his gaze lowered to her outstretched hand, then rose back up to her soft smoky eyes. "You are the strangest woman I have ever met," he mumbled quietly as he shook his head.

"No matter how I try I cannot figure you out." At her frown he quickly continued. "What I mean to say is I will try to be more civil to you…but I am not a friendly person…" Brielle began to lower her hand, looking embarrassed at his disheartening words, but he instinctively reached out and took her hand in his. "But it is a deal. I would be lucky to count you as a friend."

At his words Brielle's expression lit up once more with a gorgeous grin. She shook his hand vigorously before releasing him. "It is a bargain then." With a happy sigh she turned from him and started across the room towards the door.

Hesitating at the doorway, she turned and glanced back at him as he sat wearily back onto the bed. "I imagine you have been terribly bored. Would you like for me to fetch you some books to read when I bring you your dinner?"

"Please God yes!" he exclaimed, making Brielle chuckle at his eager reaction as she walked out the door, leaving it open for the first time since he had been in the house. For some reason, Erik couldn't stop the smile from growing upon his face. And at the moment he didn't care to stop it.