Disclamer: No, I do not own Erik. ( i simply borrow him for my own purposes )

AN: Reviews are very welcome as this is my first published work of fanfiction. Don't be kind but don't be rude. Your opinions are greatly appreciated, and very much looked forward to!

Chapter Two

Paris, France

I won't bore you with the traveling that Jane and I had to endure. Sufficed to say that I spent most of it by myself, either walking on deck, in the cabin, or in the carriage. The traveling left Jane and I wearied and exhausted and we wished nothing more than to be dropped off at the Opera House and whisked into warm comfortable beds.

When we arrived in Paris, the weather was absolutely dreadful. It was just after nightfall and a steady rain had made its appearance. I could not look out the window and admire the beautiful sights, so I was forced to remain awake inside the carriage with nothing to do but listen to the thoughts running rampant in my mind.

The carriage made a sudden stop and I had to fling out my arms to make sure I didn't deposit myself into a heap on the carriage floor. When we didn't resume moving, I assumed we had reached our destination. The door to my left opened and the driver assisted Jane and I down. We had no umbrella and I hated to think that my first appearance to my aunt was to be looking like a wet rat.

A woman was running down the steps and she stopped just in front of Jane and I, thankfully holding her quite large umbrella over us. She appeared to be just over forty years of age, and she had a straight pointed nose, and black eyes.

"Aunt Giry?" I inquired.

"Oh, thank heavens, Anastasia! We thought you would never get here!" Aunt Giry put an arm around me and the three of us ascended the stairs into the Opera House. "We expected you hours ago!"

"Really?" I attempted to wring out my hair that had fallen loose of its many pins.

"Yes! Your mother insisted there would still be daylight upon your arrival." Aunt Giry was putting her umbrella aside and she turned back to me. "Anastasia…your eyes!"

"Is something wrong?" I scrambled to find a looking glass, but it was so dark I could hardly find anything.

"They're…white!"

I laughed. "They're actually a very light blue. In certain lights the color does appear white."

Aunt Giry looked as if I had grown a second head, and I could tell she was giving me a once over. "You've grown into quite a young woman, Anastasia."

"Did you wish I was a bit plainer than I already am?"

"It would be almost easier if you were," I heard her whisper. "Anyway, you are tired I am sure, so let me show to your room. Jane, you'll be sleeping with the other maids, if that's alright."

Jane simply smiled.

"Anastasia, you'll be staying in the old Prima Donna's rooms. No one uses them anymore, and it should be safe for you in there."

"Safe?"
Aunt Giry bit on her lower lip. "Away from the stage hands, dear."

It was a lie, I could tell, but I let it pass. I wanted nothing more than sleep. I took no time to look around me and to admire what I am sure was a beautiful interior, and I knew it would take time for me to find my way around.

We came to my room, and Aunt Giry unlocked the door. "If there is anything you need, let me know, alright? Tomorrow we'll work on getting you situated."

"Thank you, Aunt Giry," I smiled wearily.

She bent to kiss me, and then she and Jane left. I didn't even bother with my clothes as I fell onto the nearest comfortable couch I could find.

"What are you doing down here?"

Antoinette Giry gasped and turned around only to come face to face with the Phantom of the Opera "Erik! You scared me!"

"Yes, I have that affect on people. Now, I repeat, what are you doing here?"

Madame Giry cleared her throat. "I've come to tell you that there is a new addition to the Populaire household. My niece Anastasia has come to live with my daughter and myself."

"And you would have me, what? Let her be?"

"If you would be so kind. As of yet, she knows nothing I believe of what happened here and she can't go home yet so it would be best if she was not scared out of her wits."

"She cannot go home?" Erik inquired.

"Her mother is dying, my eldest sister. They thought it best if she was sent here till it was all over."

"I'm sure that was meant as a kind gesture." Erik bitterly replied.

"You don't understand. Anastasia has a very good and kind heart. She and her mother went through hell years ago and they've developed a unique bond. If she were to stay and watch her mother die, Anastasia herself would slowly die as well. And that is not what my sister has in mind for her eldest daughter."

Erik stood quietly, pondering what he had been told. "Where does she reside?"

"In the old Prima Donna's rooms. Please, Erik, as a favor to me, don't frighten her away. Just let her be."

Erik look down at Madame Giry and knew that she never asked favors of him…even when she lived in the Opera House. He simply nodded and left her standing on the staircase. His footsteps led him to a place he had not been in years. He honestly had not been paying attention and was surprised when he came to the mirror. It was morning now, but the occupant was still asleep. From his side of the mirror, he could not see the girl properly. All he could see was a green dress, a black jacket, and a mass of black hair.

The door to the room opened and in walked Antoinette. He smirked thinking that this would prove interesting to say the least. He watched as Madame Giry walked to the sleeping girl and gently shook her awake.

"Anastasia?"

The girl moved slightly and soon she was awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Aunt Giry? What time is it?"

"It's just after nine, dear. I have rehearsal in an hour and thought you might like to join me. Your mama said that you liked opera and she thought you would enjoy sitting in."

"Only if you call me Anne. I do not like Anastasia."

Madame Giry smiled and helped the girl up. "Of course, Anne. Now, Jane should be along with some breakfast. Why don't you change and then we'll get started on your hair."

Erik watched as Anne went behind a changing screen and as Madame Giry rummaged through the trunks to find something suitable. Well, he had gotten a better look at the girl and found she at least was pretty…as if something like that mattered. He wondered what she was like. He knew all the girls and women here well and found them to be very superficial. He would be loathed to find that there was another fickle, fashion oriented brainless idiot dancing about the stage.

"Aunt Giry could you help me with my corset?"

Erik thought that was his cue to leave, and in truth, it was best that he did. He did not need to know what she was like. He did not need to know what there was that was so special that he could not frighten her. He had locked up his heart and his soul long ago, and nothing was going to change it. He had never dared look at another woman since she left. And he never would. What would be the point?

"Anne, you've grown up quite well."

I gasped for air as I was laced up into the corset. "Thank…you…"

"Here, put this on." Madame Giry handed me a white dressing gown which I put on. "Now, come over here and we'll get started on your hair."

I sat down finding it very difficult to do so in the corset. Aunt Giry had laced it tighter than I was used to. I looked in the mirror and found that my eyes had started to corporate this morning. They were light blue today so hopefully I wouldn't scare anyone. The pins in my hair came down one after another.

"My goodness, I've never seen hair such as yours."

My curly blue-black tresses were thick and hung long down my back settling just below my waist. "It's a bit much."

"How do you care for it?"

"Jane's pretty adept at fixing my hair. When I'm traveling, I usually have it up. Most days I wear it down."

There was a soft knock at the door and it opened to reveal Jane holding a breakfast tray. "Good morning, Miss Anne." She sat the tray down and kindly took the brush from Madame Giry's hand. She ran the brush through my hair and pinned it back with two elegant blue combs.

I let myself be pampered this morning as I ate part of my breakfast. In truth, I was still tired and wanted nothing more than to return to my sleep, despite how restless it had been. Trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep, I looked around the dressing room. The walls were painted a soft white and the furniture was all dark cherry wood. There was very little decoration done, but I assumed that it would be my duty to furnish it as I saw fit. It was not a very beautiful room, but I thought that I could make it very livable in a few weeks.

"You're not very hungry, Miss." Jane chided.

"No…I'm not. Perhaps you should tell who ever is making this food that when I'm hungry I'll ask for something. There's no point in wasting good food." I smiled up at Jane who patted me on the shoulder, took my tray and left.

Glancing at the clock on my vanity, I discarded the dressing robe and stepped into a black skirt and a white button up shirt. "I didn't bring this from home…"

Madame Giry smiled. "No, they're from the costume department. I thought you would like it better than going around in a day dress."

"Thank you, Aunt Giry."

Madame Giry waved away her gratitude and picked up her cane. "It's time for rehearsals."

I bit lower my lip. "Aunt Giry, if it's alright, I would like to take a look around today. Perhaps I could sit in on rehearsal tomorrow?" I could tell that she was nervous at my asking and her eyes darted quickly to the full length mirror that seemed embedded in the wall. She looked back at me and smiled.

"Of course, dear. Just stay where there are windows."

"What do you mean?" My curiosity was peaked as I followed her out of my room.

"Don't go down towards the cellars. It's very easy to get lost down there and it could take us days to find you."

"Aunt Giry, you seem nervous? Are you alright?" I noticed the way she seemed to clench her cane tightly and her eyes seemed to dart this way and that, as if to reassure herself we weren't being followed or overheard.

"Yes, Anne. Now, if you'd like I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight. Nothing fancy, so don't feel like you have to get dressed in anything formal. I'd like to introduce you to my daughter, Meg."

I smiled, remembering mother's desire for me to befriend Aunt Giry's daughter. "Of course."

"Now, I must run, Anne. Five o'clock alright?"

I waved goodbye and was left to myself, at last. Truth be told, I wanted nothing more than to go to my room and just cry. But I knew that my mother would not have approved of such an action. I had to be brave…I had to be strong. Trying to get my bearings, I leaned against the wall and felt the cold hard wood against my hand. Aunt Giry had gone to the right, down the hall and then had turned left. So, I assumed that was going to be my best bet.

I was amazed at the labyrinth that I had unknowingly walked into. I walked amidst the prop departments and costume departments and art departments. I caressed beautiful satins and elegant silks that were waiting to be made into a dress or a cloak and wooden statues waiting to be painted. I received kind nods and hellos from everyone but I didn't stop to make polite conversation. Today, I wanted to just explore and see the mysteries of this Opera House for myself.

I soon found myself backstage watching the performers. The ballerina's were currently off to the side and I found myself quickly sought out by one of the older girls who had the classical blonde hair and blue eyed look.

"You must be Anne." She smiled at me and held out her hand. "I'm Meg, your cousin."

I placed my hand in hers. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"I wish I could say the same. I've heard a lot about your sister, Elizabeth, but Mama has never said much about you."

"Well, if Elizabeth and I stood side by side you would be able to tell why." I brushed off Meg's look of curiosity and returned my attention to the two singers standing at the front of the stage. "So, what is the Opera?"

"The Marriage of Figaro," Meg whispered. "It caused such an uproar in England and Germany that apparently France cannot be outdone."

"Is it so very scandalous then?" I smiled, knowing exactly why it had caused such a fuss back home.

"It makes fun of the nobility! It's something that just isn't done."

I turned innocent eyes to my companion. "And what if the nobility deserve to be made fun of?"

"Anne!" Meg was aghast that I would even suggest such a thing.

"What? I've seen enough of the world to know that the nobility care about nothing but themselves and think that the entire world revolves around them. I've seen them inflict pain and cruelty upon those who do not deserve it. They would mock anything that's different for their own amusement not caring how it would injure others. Yes, Meg. I think they deserve to be mocked for a change."

For a moment, Meg was silent. I supposed she was trying to think over my words and at the same time judge my character. It was a common fault of many people, I believed, to make quick judgments based on first appearances. Undoubtedly, Meg would probably think I was the most scandalous person alive.

"Anne, what kind of life have you known?"

"What?" I looked at her confused at such a question. "What do you mean?'

"To think so ill of people…I've never met anyone like that."

I laughed. "You should get out more, Meg Giry. The world is a cruel dark place. You have to be strong in order to survive it."

"Anne…"

"I'm sorry, Meg. I don't want to talk about this anymore…and you've got rehearsal."

"Oh, there's some problems with the scene so we're not needed at the moment." Meg looped her arm around my waist and put her hand over my ear as if preparing to tell me something. "Have you heard about our Opera Ghost?"

I disentangled myself from her. "It's been a few years since I'd heard something about it."

"Really?! I'm surprised it would have reached so far. The Opera Ghost is a man! He kidnapped Christine Daaé and was responsible for the fire that destroyed the Opera House."

I wondered why Meg was telling me all of this. Truthfully I had put together as much. I had heard of jealous lovers and unrequited love enough in my life to know all of the signs.

"Sometimes, if you're very lucky, you'll see him sitting in Box Five. It's on the first box on stage left. He watches each of the productions and sends his recommendations to the managers. Fortunately, we have a sensible man running the Opera House, who respects our Phantom's advise, though he simply thinks it's just some critic who wishes to remain anonymous and collects a monthly fee because that's how he makes his living."

I smiled. "And people say we women are naïve…"

"What?"

"MEG GIRY?!"

Meg jumped at the sound of her mother's stern voice so close to us.

"Are you a dancer?"

Meg nodded enthusiastically.

"Then go and practice!"

Meg quickly darted off and I tried not to show a sign of relief. If she was going to prove to be nothing more than a gossip monger I was going to have my work cut out for me. How was I supposed to befriend someone who had no idea of what the world outside the Opera Populaire was like? I tried not to groan and rub my temples in frustration.

"I'm sorry if my daughter bothered you, Anne."

"She's fine, Aunt. I daresay she's just longing for someone to talk to. Someone other than a member of the acting troupe."

"Perhaps you're right." Aunt Giry smiled and left me, as she needed to return to her rehearsal.

I thought no more about the scenes before me and decided to discover the mysterious box five. Meg said the Phantom attended performances and I was curious to see if he attended the rehearsals. With a mischievous grin on my lips, I made my way up.

Despite Madame Giry's insistence, Erik did not completely stay away from this new arrival. His curiosity had been peaked at the firmness Madame Giry had placed on the order to keep his distance and to never make himself known to her. Why she had asked him that was a dilemma he has spent most his day pondering before realizing that he had spent most of his time thinking about a woman. He, therefore, decided to go watch over the rehearsal that he knew would be a colossal mess without his instruction.

Erik liked the idea that the new managers thought him some critic of society who had nothing better to do with his time than demand exorbitant fees and say whether or not performances were acceptable. The whispers of the infamous Opera Ghost still lingered, as his calling card had not changed.

He dispensed with the normality of viewing the rehearsals in his box. Instead, he stood up in the catwalk looking down. Most of the stagehands were too ignorant to actually walk around during the rehearsals learning when important scene changes were happening, so nobody would actually see him. If they did? Well, he always kept his Punjab Lasso tucked under his cloak, not that he had ever needed to use it since Piangi five years ago.

Reaching the catwalk, Erik looked down at the troupe and watched closely. The Opera Populaire had changed greatly since André and Firmin. The current managers knew something about art and music and they had hired performers who actually knew what they were doing. Even the lead soprano, Vanessa Carrolton, was quite good and with a little extra practice was an accomplished singer. In the end, there was very little that he needed to comment on and he was able to dedicate most of his day to whatever amused him.

It was from here that he saw the new girl appear in the stage right wings. He was amazed at how she seemed to blend right in with her black skirt and white blouse. Her hair had been pulled back and hung loose down to her waist and she looked as if she belonged here…as if she worked here at the Opera House.

But no. She was a sophisticated lady who would leave when the death of her mother had come and gone. There would be nothing or no one to hold her here. He could tell that just by the way she was talking to Meg Giry, currently the leading ballerina in the troupe. The new girl kept her distance even dissentingly herself from Meg at one point. Though, despite his desire to remain impassive to her, he found their conversation to be quite intriguing.

"The world is a cruel dark place." He overheard her. "You have to be strong in order to survive it."

Erik felt his anger rise. What did she know about the world? Erik gripped the railings so tight he could feel the hard edges through his black gloves. That girl who had been blessed with beauty and a family who obviously loved her, knew nothing about the suffering that had been endured by many of the less fortunate.

"Have you heard about our Opera Ghost?"

Ah, finally. Something he could listen to with great interest. He would know how to proceed from here with the girl based upon what she did or did not say. What he was not prepared for was her almost complete acceptance of the fact that he existed. Either she was in denial or she actually…believed. What did she know? How did she know? Or was she just…pretending? Was this all a game to her?! Surely she couldn't believe just because she read it in a newspaper. Was she really so…gullible?

A noise from his far left made him slink further into the shadows and when he returned to his place on the catwalk she was gone. Meg had returned to practice and the raven haired witch was nowhere to be found. Furious at losing her, Erik wanted to wreck some havoc on the troupe but decided it would be best to not take out his frustration on them…but it would be best to take it out on her.