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

AN: Wow! Two chapters in one night! Whew! Bed time for me! Don't forget to give it a little R&R!

Chapter 9

The first thing to go was his cloak when he had returned to the safety of his dungeon home. The white neck tie was soon to follow as well as the black tuxedo jacket. What had possessed him to step out from the sanctity of his darkness and step out into the light to see Anne up close? She was indeed ever much the contradiction he spoke of to Madame Giry. Quiet, timid one minute and the next teasing him at not sending him one of his "infamous notes" as was his apparent custom. There was something about this girl, that much was for certain. She seemed to have almost an ethereal quality with her ever changing eyes.

God, her eyes! He thought he was staring into ice when he saw them and then he had to go and make some ridiculous comment about how they were always sad. Leave it to her to turn the conversation back to him. Erik's anger rose in remembrance as she had, in vain, tried to make him believe that she could understand his pain, his loss.

"No, I cannot personally know, that is true. But I have seen first hand what that sort of love and devotion can do."

He hit the wall as hard as he could, not bothering to grimace in pain as it shot through his arm. How could such a naïve girl know what true love did to someone? She couldn't be old enough to know. She had undoubtedly lived a life of riches, and wealth, and had everyone cooing over her and waiting on her ever whim. Her only misfortune in life was probably not being pretty enough for someone.

He smiled to himself. He was a man, and he was not going to deny that she was very pretty to look at. One might even dare to say that she was beautiful, especially in that soft candlelight which bounced off her unbound dark hair. And she was frail and lithe as his Christine had been, but a full grown woman who had curves enough to….

"NO!" He yelled to his prison. He swore when Christine left, taking his heart with her, that he would never love another! He had only his music now, and only his music would keep him alive and when it was done, he could rest forever, never having to worry about another human care again.

By the time Aunt had come to my room, my tears had all been dried up and I was sitting in the middle of my bed, my knees curled up underneath my chin. I thought back over the conversation I had heard and I bit back fresh tears. What had I expected the Phantom…no, Erik was his name…to say about me? That I was beautiful? That he enjoyed his brief conversation with me?

I laughed at my foolishness and shook my head. I was quite stupid to think otherwise, but I couldn't help but think about our conversation with some great change of heart. I got out of bed and went to the floor length mirror. I stepped closer and touched my face in exactly the same place his hand had caressed my cheek. He was a man, but his eyes had looked just as sad as he had told me mine were. I knew now that I had only heard half of the story and I would have to ask him for the other half of the tale. Oh, I could probably ask Aunt Giry for the story and she might tell me, but if I wanted to know what made him the way he was now, I had to hear it from him. To try to understand from someone else would only give me glimpses at prejudices that I had already enough of.

But could I really go and see him again? His anger was so frightening and I hugged myself trying to keep the fear at bay. I could still hear his angry words ringing in my ears. I had never seen such passionate anger from anyone, even during that dark time. Of course, his anger was probably justified as I did seem like some innocent girl who had no more knowledge of the world than a new born babe. Even if he wanted to tell me his story, how would I find him? I couldn't just go walking amidst the darkest corners of the Opera House and hope to just bump into him….could I?

"Anne?" There was a soft knock at my door and I heard Aunt Giry's voice.

"Come in. It isn't locked." I moved away from the mirror and closer towards the door.

"You shouldn't have listened, Anne." She shut the door and sat the candelabra down and gave me pointed look.

"You are probably right, but I couldn't leave without hearing what you were going to say to him."

She smiled. "Were you worried that I wasn't going to defend your actions or give him a set down?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I didn't know what I was going to hear. To be honest, I didn't expect much of anything since I don't really know how things stand between the two of you." I raised my hand when she started to speak. "Nor, do I wish to know."

Aunt Giry tilted her head and gave me a look that I was not quite sure how to interpret. "You are a very strong woman, Anne. I don't mean physically, but in your mind. You're able to bear things. I was half afraid I would have to deal with a fainting fit."

I laughed. "No, I'm afraid that would have been Elizabeth. I can handle things better than she can. I'm the oldest and have had to see things that she, fortunately, never had to see."

"Yes, I know that you've had a hard time of life, Anne, but don't you think it's time to find you something to fill up your days? To help get you away from your past and to help forge your future?" Aunt Giry stepped forward and guided me back to the bed. We sat down together and she took my hands in hers.

"I would like some sort of occupation, Aunt. I'm not really fit for anything too fine. Remember, I spent most of my early days doing cleaning and the such."

"What about picking up your music, Anne? Your mother says that you play very well."

I thought about it. It would be nice to play again. To feel the passion that came when playing and to create a scene with only music, would be wonderful. "Yes, Aunt. I think I shoud like that."

"Well, Anne, our Prima Donna who at rehearsal tomorrow morning, needs an accompanist at her private home. You would still live here, of course, but perhaps you could go and play for her when we are not working on the main scenes. She has already got her songs Le Nozze di Figaro memorized, so it would just be other things that she enjoys singing. I know she is getting ready for a concert after the opera has finished, so you would be invaluable to her."

"I should like that Aunt!" I jumped up and went to the chest at the foot of my bed. I rummaged through it, pulling out pieces of music that I had cherished for years. "I should probably go an practice! Oh….but I don't have an instrument."

Aunt Giry smiled. "You just leave to me, Anne. But of course, you would be paid for your assistance."

"That is very kind, but don't think that we should speak to Diva Carrolton first?"

"I have already taken that liberty, Anne. I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not!" I held the music close to my chest.

"Good!" Aunt Giry stood and took my hands again. "I also took the liberty of telling her that you would come by tonight and to take tea with her."

I gasped. "Aunt, I really couldn't. I know I'm bound to say something…"

She laughed. "No, no, Anne. I'll be there with you and it'll be alright. She just wants to meet you and to hear you play a little."

"But I haven't practiced in months!"

"She won't mind that, Anne. Now, I need you to get ready dressed. Jane should be on her way up and we'll be leaving at six o'clock sharp." Without another word, she picked up the candelabra and whisked out the door.

It was then, in the still light of my room that I realized what had happened. Yes, I was to be an accompanist and to get the chance to play again and to, maybe, secretly, learn a few singing techniques from this renounced singer, but Aunt Giry had done something that I had not seen until that moment. She had found a way for me to get out of the Opera and after meeting the Opera Ghost…I wasn't sure that was such a good idea. A part of me was glad to get out of the confined bedroom quarters and out of the dark Opera House and to be in the sunshine doing something I loved. But another part of me, and I didn't really know how great that part was, wanted to stay and to get to know Erik better.

Because, really, if a person loved music as much as Meg had led me to believe, could he really be that bad of a person?

There is this strange enigma of a person here called "The Opera Ghost" or "The Phantom of the Opera. Mama, I can't really say whether or not they are telling the truth, but it is quite strange. I heard people whispersing about this phantom when the backdrop fell, and I heard a strange voice when I was leaving Box 5. Now please do not think I have taken leave of my senses, for I assure you that it is all quite true! I don't know what to think about this.

Aunt Giry and Meg are very good to me and I have every confidence in making Meg a close friend and to helping her as you and dear Aunt are quite wanting me to do. I know I can't say "get better" because we know that it shan't happen. But I will close with my love and my prayers for you to see our Maker soon and without no pain.

All My Love,

Anastasia Hillcrest

Maria folded the letter back up and looked out the window from where she sat in her wooden rocking chair. Yes, her time was fast coming to an end, but it was now she feared sending Anne to Paris. With Anne's love and talent for music, there was no doubt that she would have met the infamous Opera Ghost. Maria had seen his shadows before she had left the ballet corp. Antoinette had been silly bringing him in, but it was a good deed that did not deserve to go unnoticed.

Maria had a plan when sending Anne to Paris. Yes, she would find love, but would she actually recognize it when she saw it? After all, we don't always see what we are meant to see until it was almost too late. But Maria would not live to see Anne's wedding. She would be lucky if she lived another month.

So, she slowly stood and walked over to her writing desk. She would pen a long letter back to her daughter, and then begin one to Elizabeth. She had always regretted never being as close to Elizabeth as she was to Anne. It was a pity that most people don't think too seriously about things until it was too late.