A/N: I hope N.S.L. Jewelles knows how much I value her help and support, I couldn't ask for more in a friend or a beta, so thanks, my friend! It means the world to me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think!DJT

Chapter Eight: Slumber's Price

Silently Erik allowed his eyes to roam over the sleeping form of Christine. He was mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the fabric of her gown, and the way the sunlight fell through the window to illuminate her already breathtaking figure. Thick lashes rested against the creamy whiteness of her skin and her hair lay around her like a blazing halo. The fur did little to hide from him the gentle bend of her hip and the smooth slope of her rear. His hands itched to touch her, claim her, but knew that it was something he could never have. Who was she? He knew many of the wealthier familes throughout many different lands and yet he had never seen nor heard of this dark haired siren. Surely ballads were written about her? It seemed impossible that he had not heard of her during his many extensive travels. The only other logicial thing for her to be was a servant, and that in itself seemed like blasphemy. He could not picture one as beautiful as she on her hands and knees doing the bidding of others. Unless it was he that she was doing the bidding for, that might be a more entertaining thought...

Had she been a servant in his home her virtue would have been taken from her the moment she had stepped inside. Lucifer was well known for his insatiable appetite for women and no maiden was safe for very long in his presence. One of the only lessons Julius had ever given them besides fighting was what to expect from women. The only reason they were put on this earth was to please their man sexually and birth their children. Something both boys had been taught from an early age. Most females in their chateau were frightened of the twins and their father, for Lord Julius and Lucifer were known for not being very gentle...and everyone else feared Erik because of the rumors about his face. Though his bed was never left cold, as he had told Christine he could be very persausive when he wished. That fighting spirit he sensed in Christine would be destroyed and he was surprised by how little the thought pleased him. Pliant, obediant women were the ones he usually went for because they knew their place and asked no questions--exactly what he wanted. But he would not deny his fascination with the woman before him.

Erik eyes did not waver even when Christine began to stir.

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Yawning, Christine stretched her arms over her head and slowly opened her eyes. The light shining through the window had her entire body pleasantly warm, and she felt rested and refreshed-a feeling she had been craving for the last few days. A smile blossomed on her features and she turned her head to the side, closing her eyes once again, trying to bask in this brief moment of peace. A slight shifting to her right caused her body to became still, memories flooding her of where she was and whom she was with. Erik immediately overwhelmed her vision as her eyes snapped open to land on his unmoving figure. The early morning light seemed to cause the green in his eyes to glow as he stared at her silently. It unnerved her to think that he had been watching her while she slept.

"Your virtue is still in tact, a miracle, I am sure," he said dryly. She glared at him and stood, the fur covering her slipping to the ground. Christine was not aware of it but Erik's eyes ran down the length of her body more intimately than he had ever truly looked at a woman. Females were a necessity to rid himself of his baser urges-urges he had always seen as a weakness. Over the years he had trained his body to ignore such impulses, but found years of hard work dwindling down to nothing in the face of Christine's beauty. He found it amuesing that she seemed not to notice the looks he bestowed on her-as if she was completely unaware of the loveliness she possesed.

"Oh, my God..."

Erik's eyes landed on her face to watched the way the blood completely drained from her features. A look of absolute fear began to reflect in her eyes and he briefly thought about how similiar that look was to the expression of every man he had ever killed-a fear so strong it almost consumed them.

"Christine-"

"How long since the sun rose?"

"What-"

"Answer me! How long?"

He growled. No woman ever spoke to him like that-he would not permit it. The temptation to stand, so he would not have to look up at her crossed his mind momentarily, but with a small shift he realized it would be useless, his body was not yet ready. He opted to glare at her instead. Christine threw her hands up into the air in frustration and went about trying to find her cloak, her mind swarming with fear. Katerina must have called for her already, what would she think when she found out she was not there? How would she be able to explain her absence? Would her mother even wish to hear her excuses? That was what she truly feared-Katerina not giving her a chance to explain herself. She might just decide that it was time for some sort of punishment.

"This fear? What causes it?"

Glancing only briefly in Erik's direction she located her cloak and swung it about her shoulders.

"You ask me to keep your existence here a secret. I have asked nothing of you in return, but now I must tell you, do not ask questions where you are not welcome-it will get you no where..."

Without another word she fled the cottage.

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Charles groaned wearily and ran a large hand over his face. He found himself completely exhausted, for the night before he had slept very little. When he had returned from Katerina's chambers he had found his thoughts consumed by Christine. In the beginning such thoughts did not bother him, for he had taken a fancy to servants before-but now he was becoming concerned. Now all he could think about was her. He had no idea why he hadn't taken her to his bed yet, but felt as if something was holding him back. She was different somehow, and since he did not know how exactly he would wait until he did.

As he left his chambers he wondered how much longer he would keep Raoul and himself here. Was he now truly this desperate that he allowed himself to wait out Katerina's games? All he wished was to get what he came for and return home. Something he knew that would make his son very happy. Raoul never argued with him when it came to his decisions but this time had been different. He had been, of course, more than willing to accompany his father on this voyage, but when they had arrived his son had quickly changed his mind when he got his first glimpse of Katerina. The boy constantly told him that she was a cold, conniving witch, and though he too saw this he remained where he was. She was the only way of gaining what he felt he desperately needed, and he would not hear Raoul's complaints, it would only make things more difficult. He was confident that his son was on his side, and when it came down to it the Chagny's would remain strong. If only-

His thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream flooding his ears. Unconciously he flinched and looked around, trying to locate where the sound had come from. A few servants glanced wearily behind them as they walked and quickened their pace, away from the noise. It sounded again and he found himself sprinting down the hall, drawing his sword as he prepared for an attack. Frowning, he began to realize that the sound was coming from Katerina's chambers, and he immediately began to fear the worse. What if Raoul-no, how could he think that of his own son? He hated the woman, but he would never resort to violence. Perhaps an intruder had managed to slip past the guards and had made his way into her chambers. Maybe even one of the guards. He knew many lusted after her beauty, and that could be dangerous. He just prayed that she was not harmed in any way.

When the chamber doors flew open and he made his way inside the sight that greeted him was the last one he had ever expected. Christine lay on the cold, hard stones of the floor, the back of her dress tattered as blood coated her flesh. She was whimpering softly in pain and his eyes sought out Katerina. She had moved away from the girl and now sat on her bed, silently brushing her luxurious hair.

"What the devil...?"

"Charles, what are you doing here?" she wondered, surprise only slightly noticeable in her voice. As he made his way toward the limp Christine he did not see the smoldering look of fury written in his lover's eyes. The girl before him moaned in pain when he lightly touched her shoulder and he growled in anger. What was the meaning of this?

"Answers, Katerina," he demanded, glaring at her from his place at her daughter's side. Her gaze was just as angry as she looked back at him.

"She is my servant, my lord, and I need not tell you why she is being punished!"

Christine coughed, blood bursting from her mouth and coating the floor. Katerina gazed at her in disgust for a moment before looking away. Charles knew he could do nothing about the situation right now so he gently gathered her into his arms.

"What do you think-"

"I am not finished with you, my lady, I think the two of us need to have a conversation soon."

She said nothing as he carried her daughter from the room. His arms were firm and sure as he held her close, but he was finding it hard not to blanche from the obvious pain she was in. Blood began to coat the arms of his tunic and he quickened his pace, fearful for her safety. Unconciously his feet led him towards his own chambers and when they arrived he laid her gently on his bed. She almost immediately turned onto her stomach and pressed her face into the furs of his bed.

"Shh, Christine, it is alright," he murmured tenderly when she began to weep. Striding to the door he threw it open and barked for a servant. A young girl appeared and he demanded that warm water and some rags be brought up immediately. When he returned to her with the desired objects his hands gently began to remove her clothing, trying his best not to hurt her in any way. For a moment she tried to protest but he put a reassuring hand to her cheek and she stilled. He used one of the furs to cover her backside and keep her modesty. The lashes on her back were deep, and he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his hands around Katerina's neck and snap it for having done this. What could Christine have done to warrant such a punishment? Why did he care so much?

With confident hands he slowly got to work mending her broken flesh, even after she slipped from conciousness.

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"No-please!"

"Christine!"

Christine was jolted awake by someone forcefully shaking her shoulders. Her eyes came to land on the worried face of Lord Charles de Chagny and she knew her surprise was obvious. He had come to help her. In her most vulnerable state he had seen her. She desperately wanted to say something, feeling horrifyingly embarrassed, but found that tears began to fall before she could get a word out-pain flooding her back and memories assaulting her mind.

"It is alright, little one, do not cry. You are safe..."

She collapsed foward and Charles's arms came around her, pulling her against his firm chest. Christine knew she shouldn't be in his arms-no lord need comfort a servant, but she desperately needed someone to lean on, and he seemed willing to offer his shoulder. Her back was on fire and she felt as if she might faint once again, but found that her memories hurt worse than any of the physical pain to her body. When she had returned to the chateau one of her fellow servants had told her that she better hurry and make her way to her ladyships chambers, she had been shouting for her for the past couple of hours. Dread had immediately filled her heart and she would have given anything not to have to face that woman.

The moment she had entered her room Katerina's hand had connected roughly with her face, the force causing her to fall to the ground. She had tried vainly to speak, to try and come up with some logical excuse, but found that her stepmother was far beyond the reasoning of any words. Christine had struggled for a moment-knowing it was no use-before she was shoved onto her knees and cruelly lashed. Since the time her father had died she had been given this punishment whenever she did something 'wrong'. Over the years, though, she felt almost numb from the pain. Today...she did not know what came over Katerina, but it was almost as if she wanted to see her dead, and her hand was firmer than it ever was.

She was more angry at herself than anything, though, because she had allowed herself to scream-to show how much pain she was truly in. That would only make the other woman happier and yet she had showed such a weakness. As if that humiliation was not enough she had one of the most powerful men she had ever met comforting her. She knew absolutely nothing about him except he was just like every other man who lusted after her mother. What could he possibly be thinking to seek to help her? Most noblemen would not give her a second glance if she laid at their feet in a pool of her own blood.

"My lord, please, I am sorry-" she began, pulling away from his arms. His eyes met hers and he shook his head, a small smile appearing.

"You have done nothing that would warrante an apology, Christine...are you alright?"

She opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn't but quickly stilled. She had no right whatsoever to complain to this man. And she found it strange that he would so much as ask. He was a strange man, this one, but she would never be able to express how thankful she was that he had taken her from her mother's wrath.

"I am fine, my lord, thank you."

Charles shook his head with a deep chuckle.

"Ah, not the best liar, I see," he murmured, running a finger down her cheek. Christine stilled from the contact but he only continued to look at her as he had before. "Lay down, rest. Your body needs time to heal."

"Nay, my lord, I assure you I'm fine-"

"That is a command," he softly insisted. Before she could protest further he had her lying on her stomach with the furs surrounding her. She wanted to tell him that Katerina would never allow this-that though he was trying to help her it would only lead to more punishment. But he was already striding out of the chambers, telling her that he would come back to check on her in an hour or so. The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud and she was left to the pain of her body, and the more excruiating thoughts in her mind.

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