Padme's Author Note: We have not read the other Beauty and the Beast story out there, Le Fantome et La Belle. Nor do I intend to. That way each story can stay it's own unique story. We love reviews too!

Christine and the Phantom

Chapter Three: Internment

Somehow the candlelight only revealed the right portion of the man's face. It was almost as if he was scared to fully confront the father-daughter pair. A black cloak clung to his broad shoulders, hiding the rest of his tall body in an impenetrable shadow. The hand holding the candle was encased in a black glove as well.

Christine instinctively flinched away from the demon only a few feet away, swallowing nervously. She move to stand in front of her father in an effort to protect him from the man before them.

The man chuckled, setting the candle on a ledge by the door. "He was trespassing. So are you."

Christine stifled her protest. Most other lords would have imprisoned her father as well. Nevertheless, she ventured on, "Can't you see he's ill?" She stepped towards the man slowly, hoping to appeal to some hidden goodness in this creature. He only moved deeper into the shadows, eventually disappearing entirely.

"There's nothing you can do now. What were you thinking?" His whisper caressed the back of her neck, causing Christine to shiver. "That you'd trade places with him?" He was taunting her now, his voice traveling from one ear to the other. For an insane moment, she swore that there was not one, but many men surrounding her, prepared to attack.

She turned around, desperate to face the man, but he moved too quickly for her to follow. All Christine could think of was the truth. "I would do anything for him."

Stephan interrupted them. "I can't let you do this; I'm old! I've lived my life!"

His daughter ignored the shout and straightened her shoulders stiffly. "Yes. I will take his place."

The lord said nothing, merely stepped into the light so she could see the strange mask covering one side of his face. Christine was taken aback, but swallowed any physical allusion to that fact. He noted her lack of reaction and at once his whole demeanor seemed to change. Something unreadable flashed across his eyes.

The violinist sagged in his chains. Didn't his daughter realize what lay under the mask? Or was it impossible for her to guess what he had regrettably seen that night?

Erik deftly unlocked Stephan from the steel grip of his chains, brusquely dragging the man up the tower stairs and towards the small portal Christine had fell through earlier.

She cried out, "Sir! Be kind, I beg you!"

Erik nearly dropped Stephan, startled by Christine's outburst. Angered at his own fumbling, he released the old man and strode back to Christine, catching her wrists in his grasp. Dragging her close to his face, he hissed, "I'm letting him go, be glad of that!" Christine blinked at his masked visage. When he released her hands, she sank dazed to the floor. Her expression fixed on a cracked stone. Erik once again took hold of Stephan and pulled him out of the tower.

Christine did not move. Her captor's eyes had told her everything. Barely hidden, the gleam of anticipation was unmistakable.

)–/–

Christine jerked at the sound of a person on the stairs. The curved stones mocked her, giving no indication of whether torture or salvation lay at the source of those footsteps. She chided herself for her wishful thinking, forcing her mind to submit to the fact that that man had returned to chain her up as well.

But instead of the hideously swirling cloak of her captor, Christine saw the slight bounce of yellow skirts. The tidy blonde was young and cheerful, a pleasing but abrupt shift from the previous mood of the prisoner's surroundings. Christine belatedly recognized her as the solemn mute she had seen in the bakery only the day before. The girl smiled broadly, holding a large lantern that brightly lit the dim dungeon.

"Hello, Miss! My name's Meg," She bubbled cheerfully, displaying a neat set of teeth. Not only could the girl speak, but she almost seemed, well, happy that Christine was confined here. She lithely bent to help Christine from the floor. "Miss, if you would follow me please, the master does not wish you to catch your death here."

"No, but he couldn't help but let my father do that, could he?" The embittered comment seemed to cause the girl pain, and Christine felt faintly ashamed that her frustration had hurt the one person who had shown her kindness all day.

"Forgive me, please," She implored the servant. "Call me Christine."

"You must be tired, Christine. I must show you to your room and then you can rest." Meg began to lead them from the dirty cellar, but Christine yelped at her first stiff step. The muscles in her left leg were screaming in pain, as if lit on fire.

Meg instantly rushed to her side to examine her leg. Christine herself drew back several layers of blood-stained fabric to reveal an angry wound running at a slight angle from her ankle bone mid way up her calf. Briefly, Christine recalled her fall from Belle and the slight pain she had felt then. She hadn't even noticed it was bleeding until now.

"I must have gotten this when I fell from–My horse! Meg, please, you must get her before the wolves do! She's outside the castle walls." Christine clutched at the girl, startling her.

"Christine, please! Your leg is more serious than a horse, and besides, if she's a chestnut-colored mare, the master has already brought her in." The servant girl companionably patted Christine's hands as if they had been friends for ages. "We need to get you to your room and have the master look at that cut."

Christine blinked, "Why would he look at my cut?"

Meg chuckled, "He's very skilled; he tends to anyone or anything ill on the grounds."

"Why didn't he care for my father then?" Her fist clenched with now too-familiar anger.

Meg moved behind Christine before answering. "Truly, I do not know his reason. Maybe he did." She slid her arms around the other young woman's waist and helped her limp out of the dank vault.

The pair traveled up the stairs and down a narrow hall that Christine duly noted as some sort of hidden passageway. Meg sighed at the end of the corridor, pulling a narrow strip of black cloth from the pocket of her skirt. "I'm sorry, but the master has given me instructions to blindfold you. You must understand, very few people know of this hall and he would prefer you not know how to return to it." Christine only nodded, her leg throbbing from the seemingly endless trek up the stairs.

Meg tied the cloth securely around Christine's head, completely obscuring her vision. Christine felt Meg leave her for a brief second as she somehow opened a door that let out a slight gust of air. The servant returned to Christine's side and led her through the door and out into a larger, more airy arena. The captive had no idea where she was, guessing by the feel of the floor beneath her that they were in some marble hall.

"You can see the castle in the morning. It was built in 1478 for the third Baron Maigny in the gothic style and has passed hands many times over the years. The current master has of course made many improvements…" The girl chatted quite comfortably about the castle's history for the ten minutes it took them to walk to Christine's bedchamber.

At the door, Meg removed the blindfold and rushed Christine inside. "This is your room, Christine. He calls it the Louis Phillip room after the large chest of drawers that decorate it." Meg quickly lit a few lamps around the room and Christine stared in wonder at the opulence surrounding her.

"So I am to be his guest rather than his prisoner?" Christine asked with a mix of sarcasm and amazement.

The grand Louis Phillip chests Meg mentioned stood on the sides of the room, surrounded by a large four-poster bed, plush armchairs, a Persian silk screen, a feminine writing desk, and any invention a lady might find useful. However, the drawing point of the room was the large wall of French doors directly opposite the door that led out to a sweeping balcony overlooking the estate.

Christine might have explored the room more extensively, but the pain in her leg was shooting once more, nearly bringing her to her knees. Meg quickly helped Christine to the bed and retrieved a nightgown from one of the chests. She assisted with the removal of Christine's ruined cloak and gown, replacing them with the cool silk of the peach negligee.

"How is it that you have clothing that fits me perfectly?" Christine asked once the gown was settled over her shoulders.

The servant smiled. "There's a charm on all the pieces of furniture in the house to fit the inhabitant's size and taste. You won't find anything that will displease you while you're here." Meg straightened from her task abruptly, remembering her initial goal. "I must find the master before infection sets. Please stay here while I search for him."

Christine lay back in the bed and shut her eyes against the growing ache. She could hear Meg turn the key in the lock.

)–/–

Erik lifted the saddle from the mare's back, stroking her and leaving her warm and calm in one of the stalls in his stables. Nearby the sable stallion snorted for attention and Erik affectionately responded, feeding Beast an apple from a nearby pail.

Meg Giry entered the stable just as Erik was hanging up Belle's saddle. She glowed with excitement, bobbing up and down in a quick curtsy before addressing her master. "Sir, I've put the girl is in the east wing, just as you instructed."

"Good." He doused his lantern and left the stable with Meg trailing behind him. She held her light dearly, but Erik found his way easily across the lawn in the night.

"She seems to be badly hurt, she says she fell from her horse earlier."

Erik stiffened slightly. "I'll look in on her. Go back to bed, Meg. You will tend to our guest's needs from now on, so be sure to bring her breakfast in the morning. That's all."

He walked on through the orchard, but paused when Meg called gently to him, "Please be kind to her sir. She may be the one…" Erik spun angrily to face her, gesturing wildly at his mask.

"Do you think I want to stay like this forever? From the moment I met her, that's the only thing I've thought of. Don't remind me."

Meg continued on unfazed. "Her name's Christine, sir." When he said nothing, Meg just turned and walked back to the small house by the stables where the servants lived.

Erik shook his head and strode quickly towards the castle. Hopefully the chit wasn't too badly hurt or else he had just lost his chance at redemption.

)–/–

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Padme's second note: Done! And on-time too! Chapter four is almost completely done, I have one more scene to write and then all the editions. Jazzetry is writing five, and I'm back up for six. Our spring break is coming up soon, so everything should go lightning quick during that time. The end of that week is also our goal of finishing this thing, so keep watch for us!