A/N: I hope I did this right… I hate the thought of messing up characters. Enjoy!

Theed: Star Wars reference? Please tell me where… it was completely unintentional, lol! Glad you liked it though, whatever it was :)

Bulterphan666: I think you might be my most faithful reviewer – thank you!

Nade-Naberrie: I'm so glad that chapter turned out the emotions I wanted!

Chapter 10

The pair sat together in silence for nearly an hour and a half, Christine's eyes growing drowsy with the dimness of the carriage interior due to the closed curtains, the lull of Erik's steady heartbeat and his fingers absentmindedly trailing through her hair. The movement of the carriage kept her awake though, the gentle rocking and occasional bumps and jarring startling her eyes open every few minutes.

But when the carriage lurched to a halt Erik sat up quickly, and as she fell back against the seat her eyes flicked open with a start, and she blinked rapidly to clear the haze of lethargy.

"'Scuse me?" came a loud voice that she recognized as the driver. The words came out in a question. Erik was scrambling for the bandages that had been discarded on the opposite seat, and the carriage creaked and swayed to the side as they heard the sounds of the driver's feet crunching on the gravel and snow.

"Go," Erik hissed, pushing her towards the door. "He can't see me!"

She thrust out her hands and shoved open the door, and she squinted her eyes tightly shut as the brilliant sunlight pierced her eyes.

She held her arm up in front of her face to block out the sun as her eyes adjusted, and she saw that the driver had left his seat and was now standing in front of her with a perplexed expression.

"Mam'selle, we've been drivin' for quite awhile…"

"Do you need more money?"

"No, you gave me plenty", he said with a satisfied grin. "I was just needin' to know where you and the gentleman will be wishin' to go next."

Christine worked her mouth uselessly for a moment. "Let me… speak to my father," she said finally, feeling foolish. She took several steps back and tugged at the door handle.

"He wants to know where to go next," Christine said in a lowered voice.

Erik was sitting straight-backed against the seat to avoid being in the view of the open door. "Ask him if he knows the Fishtail Inn."

Christine repeated the question, and the driver pondered for a moment, then nodded vigorously. "Yes, I know it. Right nice place. Run by some foreigner…." He glanced down the wide dirt road, shielding his eyes with his hand. "Only about ten miles or so from here, I think."

A few moments later they were on their way again. "Erik," Christine ventured, "Do you mind if we open the curtains? There's nobody around to look in."

Erik made a gesture of assent, and Christine scooted closer to the window, pushing the curtains aside.

The day was brilliantly sunny, surprisingly warm, and the golden light illuminated the countryside, sparkling off the thin layer of snow. The distant hills rose like gray-white waves, speckled with patches of brown and green earth revealed by the quickly melting snow. Dark clumps of trees dotted the landscape, the rustling of the branches on the side of the road seemingly close enough to reach out and touch.

She could see tiny green buds on the bare brown branches. Winter was fading fast, chased away by the promise of spring and new life. A new life, she reflected, lingering on the thought. What interesting timing.

She could hear a bird trilling in one of the trees they passed, and she smiled in spite of herself. Paris was stunning with its beautiful Gothic architecture and grand opulence, but it had been so long since she'd been outside the city that she was absolutely taken in by the more simplistic beauty of nature.

The landscape rolled past as the carriage rattled along the road. She let the sun warm her face, letting her eyes drift shut once more.

Not too long had passed when she felt the carriage turn and slow down. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, leaning closer to the window to see the new surroundings.

They had pulled into the gravel cul-de-sac of a medium-sized two story stone building, with ivy and what looked like honeysuckle creeping up the sides and around the windows that glinted in the sun. There was quite a large lawn surrounding it, with a small but neatly tended bed of flowers running along the path to the door. A wooden sign hung perpendicular to the wall above the doorway, swinging with the light breeze, with the curling words "Fishtail Inn" on it. She could see a small carriage house a little bit behind and to the side, with a young stable hand sweeping out a stall.

The carriage prepared to stop at the front door, but there was a pair of women strolling on the lawns, and Erik rapped sharply on the ceiling. "Take it around to the back," he called loudly, and she heard the driver cluck to the horses and they pulled out of the cul-de-sac and back to the carriage house.

The inn cast a shadow over the carriage house, and as they pulled out of the light she heard the stable hand approach to unhook the horses, and their driver explaining that he wouldn't need boarding and that he was returning to the city.

Christine turned to Erik. "So… we'll be staying here?"

Erik nodded, but before he could say anything the stable hand had opened the door and stood back respectfully. Erik gathered up the bundles and traveling bags under his arm, then ducked his head and stepped out, turning and offering his free hand to Christine, who took it and followed suite. Erik was careful to keep his back to the driver, who turned his horses and clattered away through the cul-de-sac and back onto the main road.

The stable hand approached them, eyeing them for luggage, Erik handed their few belongings to him and said, "Please fetch me the owner."

The young man eyed him for just a moment, eyes flicking to the mask, then bobbed his head and turned, pulling open a scarred wooden door that creaked loudly and disappearing with their bags into the dimness that lay beyond.

Erik had a strange look on his face, almost apprehensive yet somehow thoughtful, and Christine threaded her arm though his, feeling slightly anxious because of his expression. "What's the matter, Erik?"

He glanced down at her, smiling briefly and reassuringly. "Nothing. Its just that…"

Before he could answer, the big wooden door reopened and the stable hand stepped out, still eyeing Erik, followed by a man of medium height with a rich coffee-colored complexion, dressed in a in a conservative charcoal-colored suit, with jet black hair and dark intelligent eyes.

An expression of utter shock chased across the man's face for a moment before he pulled it into one of composure.

"Erik."

"Nadir."