A/N: Ok, prepare to have Erik's world shaken up a good bit! I feel a bit bad for him, but he must have known it was coming. Also, here is the credit to the song within. I'm sorry it's not a classical song, but it fits so nicely. Greenfinch and Linnet Bird, music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, from Sweeney Todd (1979).

Christine walked into a heavily curtained room and laced her fingers behind her modestly as she faced a sheer curtain hanging between herself and the imposingly stern figure of the Khanum. They began their age old battle of wits with their eyes as they stared each other down in perpetual hope one would give in. This had not happened in four years, however, and it sure as hell was not about to happen now.

Erik could practically feel the room's temperature drop a few degrees despite the stifling heat in the women's eyes. He had never seen or even considered such fire could burn in Christine, but a part of him was incredibly glad he had yet to do anything to warrant the incomparable hate radiating off of her. It was odd to see how this unrivalled abhorrence affected the Khanum. He had come to see the woman as a cruel statue, but under Christine's heat lamp of detestation she became a mortal. Though still sitting higher than most and knowing it, she looked nothing more than another human being. He found this change fascinating and was thoroughly impressed by the innocent dove he knew to be Christine could inspire such a drastic alteration.

'Ah, my magician, may I assume you have met my darling little songbird?' The Khanum waved her hand with a crafty kind of suspicion glinting in her narrowed eyes.

'Yes, I have.' Erik said with a gauged tone.

Christine felt her defences take an unexpected hit as she realised she had more to look out for than just herself. She had something to lose now and she cursed her own foolishness for not seeing it sooner. Just then, something struck her.

'Magician? You're the magician Nadir was sent to find?' She looked at Erik with new eyes now. How could she not have known? Why else would he be here, standing beside her?

Erik looked at her confusedly as she held in a groan. The Khanum had raised her eyebrow at this display, for the first time in four years taking the high horse in their little battle of wills. She lorded over the temporarily distracted Christine as she tried to regain some ground.

'Perhaps it is time you hear what my little bird can do, Erik?' The Khanum suggested haughtily. 'Sing my favourite.' She waved at Christine, revelling in the nearly imperceptible fall of the girl's shoulders at the suggestion.

Erik watched as Christine took in a few resigning breaths before letting fly the most heavenly sound to ever grace his ears.

Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird
How is it you sing?
How can you jubilate sitting in cages
Never taking wing?

Outside the sky waits
Beckoning, beckoning
Just beyond the bars

How can you remain staring at the rain
Hardened by the stars?
How is it you sing anything?
How is it you sing?

Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird
How is it you sing?
Whence comes this melody constantly flowing
Is it rejoicing or merely aloaming?

Are you discussing or fussing
Or simply dreaming?

Are you crowing?
Are you screaming?

Ringdove and robinet is it for wages
Singing to be sold?
Have you decided it's safer in cages
Singing when you're told?

My cage has many rooms, damask and dark
Nothing there sings, not even my lark
Larks never will, you know when they're captive
Teach me to be more adaptive

Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird
Teach me how to sing
If I cannot fly
Let me sing.

As the last verses neared, Erik noticed tears forming in her eyes, slowly slipping from her lashes at the last few notes. When she finished her song, her hypnotising voice resting in the air and floating out to find those blue skies she had sung about. The final notes ringing through the room and reverberating off every wall only to be captured in the lush fabric and held captive. Erik understood why she cried now. She was as caged as he had been those years ago, only her bars were of a different nature. They were still partially invisible to him, but he swore to himself that he would find them and tear them down. She would be a caged songbird no more if he had any say in the matter.

'Isn't she a pretty little bird?' The Khanum asked, rubbing in the similarities Christine shared to her feathered friends.

Erik had no words with which to do proper justice to the vocal mastery she had just displayed, so he sufficed with a meaningful nod to her.

'Yes, she has greatly improved since her arrival here four years ago, but even then she was quite stunning. But I think now it is your turn to entertain.' She turned her venomous eyes to Erik.

Christine was completely stunned by what Erik displayed. He could do things she never knew remotely possible, and as she watched, she had to remind herself it was not real. Every move he made, every trick he performed was so seamless that there came over the observer a complete conviction that it was real. There was never a question of its being genuine, but Christine through her marvelling eyes found a way to see. She wondered how he managed it all and soon came to realise he was not just performing for the Khanum, but for her as well. Every now and again she would catch his eyes wondering to her, seeking approval of the spectacles he was achieving, as if she were the only one he truly wished to please. This struck her as odd, given his desire to have himself kept at arm's distance, but she shook it off to simply enjoy his work.

When he had finished his little show, he turned ever so slightly to see Christine's reaction. He had never seen her face so alight. She beamed at him like a ray of sunlight and it made his chest swell with pride to think he had pleased her so well.

'That was magnificent, Erik.' She complimented him quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself.

'Ah, but he has one more trick, my bird.' The Khanum told her, the venom seeping into her voice once more.

All of Erik's pride and joy were instantly extinguished by these words and what he knew went along with it. He watched the happiness leave Christine's eyes as fear crept in. He had never wanted to see that in her, and yet here it was over the same plaguing force which had cursed him all his life.

'Remove your mask, Erik, and show Christine why everyone fears you.' The wicked witch of a woman commanded.

'No.' Erik told her flatly. He would not subject Christine to this for he would surely lose her forever.

'I'm not in the mood to play this game with you, Erik, so I'll make it easy. I'm going to ask one more time,' she nodded to the three eunuch guards which had stood behind them. Two flanked Erik and another came up behind Christine, catching her throat in his large, meaty hand.

Erik fought to move fast enough, but he felt his arms locked in the guards' grips unable to move. He was trapped, facing Christine as she started to choke, clawing at the arm which had wrapped round her waist, pinning her as the other took away her air.

'If this is the only way to inspire you, then so be it. Either remove your mask, or watch her die for your insolent disobedience.' The Khanum explained. 'Whichever way this goes, I will have entertainment.' She smiled her thin lips at her own wicked cleverness.

Erik struggled and growled against the arms that held him in place, forced to watch the strength of Christine's desperation slowly start to fade. He felt like he was back in that cage, chained up to the view of the jeering public, only this time it was Christine's life on the line.

'No! I'll do it! Let her go!' He found himself begging. He would lose her if she saw, but she would die if he did not. Either way she was gone, but at least in the former she would remain alive.

A nod from the Khanum and Christine was unceremoniously released, dropping to her knees and coughing terribly as she clutched at her still sore throat. She gasped in for breath and quickly found herself looking up at Erik, now also released. He had such sadness and despair in his eyes that she worried he may simply break.

'Forgive me, Christine.' He all but begged before slowly, reverently, he reached up and slipped free the ties of his mask at the back of his head. Christine watched the white leather fall slightly into his hand before moving it to his side. She could not help the involuntary gasp that escaped her lips at the sight.

Erik prayed with everything he had that she would not scream. She did not, and as the seconds stretched on into eternity in his mind, he wondered if she would do anything at all. She just lay there, still kneeling from where she had fallen, staring up at him with blank surprise written in her eyes.

'I think I'll leave you two to become better acquainted.' The Khanum said with her sickly silky tone, but neither of her entertainers were listening. As she left, she smiled. That would teach that slip of a girl to marvel at what was not hers.

Erik heard the door behind the sheer curtain close with a resounding thud and felt it wrack through him. He still stared down at Christine, waiting for something, anything!

'Christine,' he took a step forward, reaching out to do he knew not what. He supposed to help her up, but that felt weak even to his mind. She only scooted away, her surprise finally turning to fear. Erik felt his world shatter as she did this.

She looked up at him and saw. The initial shock was over, and as he moved forward she realised she had forgotten he was real. She looked at the atrocity that was his face.

Gaunt and pale skin stretched thinly over the bones of his skull, displaying all of the veins and tendons normally hidden. The long musculature of his face, sunken, dark eyes, and pit where a nose should be made him seem truly like a skeleton. Though his chin and lower lip remained untouched by the horrors that clearly plagued the rest of his features, they did little to count against it.

Christine felt a scream perch on her lips and he must have seen it as well because he instantly turned away, hiding his face in his hands with a painful moan. As soon as she heard his heart wrenching agony and remembered his look of utter despair, she realised that he was still Erik. He was still the man she had longed to be friends with since the moment she had seen him. He was still the kind and gentle soul who had taken care of her just an hour or two ago. He was still Erik, and she had hurt him beyond words.

Shakily, she stood up and slowly walked over to his quavering back, hand already outstretched to him.

Erik froze the instant he felt her fingers touch his shoulder. He felt like crumpling to his knees.

'Christine, please forgive me.' He begged again, too afraid to face her and see the fear in her beautiful sage green eyes.

'For what? I'm the one who should be begging forgiveness, not you. I'm so sorry, Erik. I can't…I don't know how to begin, I…I'm sorry.' She had tried to hold it together, but eventually the tears had returned, making her bow her head in shame at her own pitiful actions. How could she have done something so terrible to him? All he had ever been to her was kind, and yet one look at his face and she was ready to scream like he was some kind of monster.

Erik could not take it anymore. He turned round to see a crying Christine hugging her own shoulders so hard it hurt him to see. He had hardly believed her words until he saw her. She was truly sorry for the way she had reacted, but that could not change the fact that he had scared her.

Donning his mask once again, he turned to leave the room and Christine when he felt her hand shoot out to snag his. He stopped and stared at her, waiting to see what she would do. She looked up at him, having somehow brought semblance to her emotionally distraught face, but returned to tears the moment she saw the look of tired sadness shining in his eyes. She let him go and sobbed out something he could only assume was another apology.

Erik paused a moment weighing his options. Leaving her here crying seemed cruel and unusual punishment, yet staying was getting them nowhere. She had reached out to him, so she did not hate him fully…yet. If he did stay, though, he was not sure of what he should do or say. What would be the best way to address someone who was just terrified of your face?

'Erik, I-I'm not-'

'Stop.' He cut her off. He knew the words she was about to use and they would not help her case any. 'Don't lie. We both know you were afraid. I don't blame you.' He looked away, unable to stand any part of her right now. He truly had expected her to be fearful, but he had found himself in the possession of just the tiniest bit of hope that maybe, just maybe she would not be. He had dared to dream to ask the question of: what if she was not afraid?

'I'm sorry.' She mumbled softly. She sounded like what he imagined a penitent child would.

'I know you are.' He told her, his voice growing oddly gentle and almost melodious.

Without a word, she stepped towards him, wrapped her arms around his torso, and buried her forehead into his admittedly bony chest.

Erik had watched her come forward, some mystical power of the universe binding him to where he stood as she embraced him. His mind was like a spinning top as it tried to find some reason to her actions. Had she not just been crying and before that too afraid to let him touch her? Where had that girl gone, and who was the one who was now pressing her cheek firmly into his chest? He also could hardly breathe. He had often wondered what a tender embrace -or even a firmer one- felt like, and now he knew. With this woman, hardly more than a girl, holding him, he understood what it meant to be cared for as more than just some object that could be used for advantage. She was honestly clinging to him as if she feared he would disappear at any moment if she were to let go even a little. She was probably right.

Erik's mind began to formulate ways for his escape, which halls to run down, which shadows and corners to hide in should she follow, but none of them seemed to matter quite so much as staying right where he was and enjoying the waves of actual elation her contact brought. The way her head rested just low enough down his chest for him to be able to rest the side of his chin on. The way her body seemed to mould to his perfectly. The way his own arms tentatively curved to rest at her lower back and shoulder blades, feeling the slight tickle of the tips of her curling locks. All of this kept him frozen in place, willing to stand forever if that was what she chose.

Every ounce of him but one screamed to break free, to fight the uncontrollable spell she had upon him, but that one tiny voice in his head took over and made him stay. It was a slightly frightening feeling to suddenly be trapped, but knowing that there is no place you would rather be. He tried and failed to come up with excuses as to why he could flee, but none seemed good enough. Some part of him now found itself longing for only the best for her, because that was what he knew she deserved.

Christine ended his inner torment for him by pulling back a bit to look up into his face. It was masked, but her mind could never forget what hid beneath. In his eyes she saw the shock her rather rash and bold actions had won. Still, he did not seem to mind too much as he was now holding her as well.

She pulled back a little further and he did not stop her. She slipped through his hands like silk, and though she was glad he did not fight her, she was rather disappointed he did not wish to continue her close proximity. She searched around for something to say. What could be said?

'I liked your magic tricks. You're very talented.' She told him, hating the weakness of her choice of words.

'Thank you. You are as well. I knew you sang, but I did not know you were so skilled. I'll have to have you sing some of my requiems some time. I-if you want to, that is.' He backpedalled quickly, realising how morbid that sounded.

Christine laughed a little at this. 'Dark though it may be, I would love to. I didn't know you wrote music.' She cocked her head to the side as she continued to smile.

'Yes, a little. Mostly when the mood hits me. Lately I've been preoccupied by designing the Shah's new palace as well as a few things to entertain the Khanum.' He started to growl slightly at the mention of her title. How he hated that woman.

Christine's eyes flickered with fear as a thought came to her, but she quickly hid it when Erik's gaze returned. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was still afraid of him. She had done far more than enough damage for one day on that score.

'I would love to hear your music some time.' She told him honestly.

Erik hummed thoughtfully when he suddenly remembered he would be needed in court very soon.

'Christine, I have somewhere to be, would you like me to walk you back to your apartment?' He offered her his arm like many gentlemen he had seen over the years. He had never tested it out, of course, as Christine was the only woman to ever enjoy or even dare to be in his company.

'I would, thank you.' She replied, happily taking his arm. She vaguely heard him gasp in what she hoped to be happiness as she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow.

As they walked out, Christine could not help but internally weep at the thought that all of this could come crashing down if she told him the truth. She looked up at him as he smiled his timid little grin at her. She could not do it. She simply could not bring herself to tell him, no matter how much he needed and deserved to know.

A/N: I hope none of you hated her for her reaction. It occurred to me whilst writing it that I was becoming very defensive of him in my own mind. She made it ok, though. I hope I'm driving you crazy with her secret. I promise it'll be a good one. Just hang in there. I've got a couple more moments to get through before it all comes to light.

Thank you, Lostchild511, chrissymama, lovecelticopera, and LovelyOdette for favoriting/following this story!