Angel of Doom and an English Rose (Phantom of the Opera)

Chapter 9 - Erik and an Interruption

Rosetta's POV:

Angel's head snapped towards me and stared at me. He quickly moved away from my arms and said,

"Why do you ask, Rosetta? Why?" I looked at him curiously and said,

"Is there anything wrong with me knowing the name of my friend? You know mine why can't I know yours?" He stared at me and finally showed some emotion. Shock. Pure shock. He lowered his head and said,

"Please, don't ask me. I hate it! It is a link to my past. I don't want it." I stood up and walked over to him. He was standing as his full height and I felt dwarfed by it. I looked up at him and said,

"Angel, I want to call you something other than that. Every man ought to have a name. You have a name then tell me." He looked at me and said,

"I hate it. But, very well, I shall tell you." He took a deep breath and said, "Erik. It's Erik." He looked at the ground and took a deep breath. I thought about it and said,

"I like it, Erik. That is a beautiful name." He looked at me and said,

"You think its beautiful?!" He seemed in complete disbelief. I nodded and took his hand. I really did like it. I had always had my favorite names and 'Erik' was on the top of the list.

He looked at our hands and smiled slightly. This was an honest smile. It was devoid of danger and wariness. I grinned and pulled him back to the organ bench. He sat down beside me and I curled up against his shoulder.

I didn't bother to look up at him. I knew he was happy. Suddenly, I whispered,

"Sing for me." I had loved his singing before and longed to hear it again. His voice was beautiful. He shifted away and I looked up at him.

He shook his head and I noticed the emotion was gone from his eyes and face again. He was back to his normal, cold self.

I scowled and said,

"Why?" He chuckled slightly and said,

"I do not wish to hurt you." I sat back and crossed my arms. He hadn't hurt me the first time. Why would he hurt me the second?

"Erik, you didn't hurt me before. Please sing again." He looked at me and I gave him my best imitation of puppy eyes. We had a staring contest until he finally threw up his hands and said,

"Very well, I shall sing. If it has any ill effects don't blame me." He snapped out the words and I moved off of his organ bench. I took a place to the left of him and watched as he warmed up his hands and started to play. Then he began to sing.

Somewhere in a market square

The cobblestone still shine

Glassy eyes behold the sight

Through another cup of wine...

The one eyed jester skips and turns

As he makes his way through the crowd

While the travern's royalty try not to laugh aloud...

The jester does another spin

And then falls to the floor

A show of hands, a short "Hurrah!"

A plea for him to do more...

The ease of laughter comes so fast when you're not in

A jester's shoes

Cause when you've only Fools Gold, you've got nothing

more to lose...

Who holds the riches

The jester or the king?

A fortress made from Fools Gold

Or the tears that treasure can bring?

The king he sit upon his throne

The worlds weight on his chest

When your mind begins to race you've got no time to rest

"Where is my clown?

I need him now, to take my troubles away..."

The harlequin rushes in as his work begins for the day...

While somewhere in a market square

The cobblestones still shine.

Who holds the riches

The jester or the king?

A fortress made from Fools Gold

Or the tears that treasure can bring?

When he finished he turned around and glared at me.

"Are you happy now?" I nodded quickly. I was very happy. His voice was so musical and perfect. I could have listened to it forever. I took my place again on the bench and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I was getting quite used to this and he was as well, I think. I closed my eyes and relaxed completely.

Suddenly, I thought of something. I remembered the real reason I had come here to see Erik. Alexander Dorta. I needed some advice.

I looked up at him and said,

"Erik, I need some advice." He looked down at me and said,

"What advice? Now, you know who you are asking it of? My first reaction is usually my Punjab lasso." I tilted my head and he withdrew a piece of silk in the shape of a noose. I nodded upon instant recognition.

"Well, my father is a very hard man. I am only sixteen but he insists I be married. He has found me a match that I hate very much. His name is Alexander Dorta. I want nothing to do with him." Erik smirked.

"I know the name. He is not in too good of favor with the Shah. In fact, I am expecting the Shah to any day tell me to kill him." I looked at him with hope shining in my eyes.

"You really mean it? He might be dead soon!?" Erik nodded and I smiled.

"Then good riddance to him. If he is dead he cannot marry me." I felt slightly guilty for wishing for a man's death but this man wasn't one I wanted to get to know. If he was to be killed then I wouldn't grieve for him. Erik stared at me in shock and managed to say,

"How could you wish that? I thought all women were weak and couldn't stand the thought of another human dying." I laughed and said,

"Oh, come now, Erik. I am not like that. For one, I am not weak. I can't be weak and live with my father. As for the second, well, I have to marry him before we sail for England again. Normally it was just an engagement which I could readily wiggle my way free of. But it is not the case now." I leaned against him and he ran a hand lightly over my hair.

I took a deep breath and felt myself begin to drift asleep. He started to hum softly and my eyes closed obediently. Suddenly, they jerked open when someone exclaimed,

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?"