This chapter is pretty dark at the end, so beware.

X X X

Chapter VIII

X X X X

"We must hurry, not waste even a minute." Christine spoke feverishly, "If he discovers… he will never let me go and we will be parted forever. Order your fine horses – be with them at the door. We must be quick."

The young Vicomte nodded and hastily departed, eyes full of love and adoration. But as Christine darted towards the service entrance, she realized that he didn't even have an inkling about the danger they were facing. Surely Erik wouldn't just allow her such a spectacular escape. They would have to be many miles away from Paris before the sun would rise, and even then, they would still be at risk. Perhaps they would have to depart the country, even.

Dashing into her room, Christine rid herself of the heavy skirt that slowed her down and the beautiful dress, debating for a moment with herself. Then, she neatly wrapped it in a bundle and placed it in the nearest bag, securing it, along with her jewels. They would need money, she knew, and she would be able to sell these. Her eyes traced the ring on her finger. And then, she saw that it was gone!

A flash of horror, like an electrical shock, passed through her. Her promise to wear it! She had lost the ring! If she would run into Erik now…

She shook her head. All the more reason to make haste. There wasn't the time to even write a note to Marguerite. She didn't have a quill or parchment, or the time. And she wasn't certain that her friend could read well. Well, she would know once the Comte de Chagny would realize his brother was gone. The later that would happen, the better. And the note could fall into the wrong hands.

Why was she leaving with Raoul? The thought pierced her mind for a moment. Why? From wealth to poverty – was love worth such a sacrifice? Outside this manor, Raoul had little material power. They would live like she used to, like peasants. Or worse, peasants would seem like lords compared to them. Beggars.

No. she shook her head, With Raoul, there will be no pretending. There will be no lies, no burning shame. With him, there will be only love.

No shame… her mind showed her the image of what they would leave behind. A family ripped apart. Marguerite, never knowing what had happened to her. Their mutual home, never to return. And not to mention him… Erik wouldn't take her betrayal lightly. But he would ultimately understand… he would realize that she couldn't lie any longer. There were much worthier beings in the world that would be jubilant to share the gifts he could give.

God bless you, Erik. I used to think you were a demon, but I was wrong. Yet I cannot be strong enough to prevail against my fear of you and return what you gave me. I don't deserve your love, because I return too little of it in return.

She bit her lip, stopping for a moment.

I lie to all, myself as well. To be able to face the feeling I have for you would require courage beyond what I have – and I am running away, do you see it?

Turning on her heel, Christine quickly walked out of the room.

X X X

As Christine's form appeared out of the darkness, now dressed in simpler clothes, Raoul couldn't help to notice that she looked slightly anxious now, as if some burden weighted her down. She was probably having regrets, but she didn't hesitate to accept his hand as he helped her climb atop the horse. Clearly, she had never ridden before, but the Vicomte seated her in front of him, taking care to help her sit properly and securely. Then, he gave his horse a slight nudge and the mare obeyed easily, breaking into a run almost immediately.

Silent and only looking forward during the entire journey, Christine barely moved an inch, apparently lost in her own thoughts. Raoul felt he understood – he himself had had some regrets when he realized he was abandoning everything he had ever known. However, upon seeing Christine's countenance again, these thoughts vanished. Her pure and modest behavior was so in contrast with that of the women he had known that he realized that with her at his side, he was able to let go of everything else.

They could start a new life together, but it would have to be far from the reach of his brother. The most logical and probably safest choice was Britain – the two countries had never been overly friendly and he had no knowledge of any of his family's connections there. Calais and then across the sea… that seemed the wisest thing to do. They wouldn't have to travel far from the coast, but he preferred to put some distance between them and their former home. Once in Britain, it shouldn't be too difficult to find them a home or a job. He hadn't ever worked in the real sense of the word, but he had skills he had honed for his own pleasure that would certainly be of use to them.

And Christine wasn't afraid of labor herself, herself, she could find work as a maidservant again. As long as they would make it out of the country, their troubles would lessen a lot. They rode through the night, resting only the next day, briefly. The coast was many days ride away and though they had some food with them, Raoul made certain they stopped at least once a day to have a proper meal. He had his favored weapons with him, so they didn't have to buy many things on the way, because he knew that if Philippe would set out after them, he would ask around.

By the fourth day, Christine seemed to have calmed a bit. At least she didn't seem as gloomy as before. But she kept having bad dreams, nightmares, tossing through the night. Often, she would wake and sit up with a small gasp. But she never looked back… yet she barely spoke, answering only with a word or two. However, she always insisted that she was fine, merely tired by the journey.

"I am all right, Raoul." she would say softly. She had finally learnt to call him by name, but she still seemed to defer to him slightly. With time, she would learn to view him as her equal now, he was certain. After all, he had almost officially given up his title.

By the beginning of the second week of their journey, Raoul began to notice that she seemed to grow nervous again, as if she were a pursued prey. Something seemed wrong to her, but she tried not to show it around him. The second week drew to a close – his horse was tired and slept for longer periods of time, but he took care not to exhaust her too much. Christine, on the other hand, had trouble sleeping. The Vicomte was now almost afraid to leave her alone with the horse when he went hunting. But Christine insisted that nothing was wrong, lying through her teeth.

Raoul returned from hunting that day, satisfied, having killed a quite large deer that would feed them for the next few days easily. The surrounding woods were now quite known to him. The spot where his mare and Christine were hidden was well-concealed, but he found it immediately. Something was wrong, he knew. He heard the sounds of horses´ hooves somewhere not too far away. The Vicomte ran, quickly entering the small valley-like area they had chosen as a hiding place. It was a dark, foggy night, but he saw at once that Christine was missing. His snow white mare was tied in place, as usual, but Christine wasn't sitting where she usually sat, nowhere around.

Afraid, Raoul drew his sword and quickly ran to search for her. He saw her a minute later, her pale, austere gown and gold locks, disappearing in the forest. But she moved strangely, not as if against her will, but as if pulled away, unable to fight back against it. The Vicomte ran after her, but in a moment, she seemed to vanish in the misty darkness.

He almost collided with the horse that ran out of the darkness, but it didn't surprise him to see several of Philippe's soldiers enclosing him, shouting to one another and to the lord that they had found him. Philippe himself rode out of the darkness on his chestnut horse within the minute, looking both frightened and angry at the same time. Raoul´s mare was led into the clearing within a moment.

The Comte de Chagny observed his brother for a moment, relieved, but not happy. He didn't start a lecture or yell, but the disappointment was visible in his eyes. "Where is the witch?" he then asked coldly.

Raoul didn't understand what he was saying. "Witch?"

The Comte leapt off his horse and walked towards his brother, still looking at him coldly. "Raoul, you don't have any idea what you've done. I cannot have it known that you, the Vicomte de Chagny, would simply run off with a ragged peasant girl!"

"I love her!" the Vicomte spat, folding his arms.

"Love doesn't mean you have to abandon your duties to the family, the name!" Philippe shook his head, "She's bewitched you, brother. You wouldn't have ever done such a thing if you would have been in your right mind."

Raoul laughed humorlessly, darkly, knowing what they all thought. Unable to understand him, they had come to the conclusion that Christine was the one to blame. Christine, who hadn't encouraged their romance at all, who wasn't in the least responsible. Witchcraft! Of course. What other solution, what other explanation for his infatuation with a working class girl with no dowry, no future, no prospects?

And he understood that Christine had fled from them, knowing that there was nothing she could do to warn him. Or perhaps… the Vicomte paled. What if her fiancé, the one of whom she didn't dare even speak, had come to collect her? What if… she was in danger and she couldn't have fought back?

Philippe, however, seemed to misinterpret his brother's sudden horror. "At last, the enchantment is lifting! You've realized it!"

One of the soldiers rode towards them. "Sir, there is no sign of the woman around here. If she was here, she must have run off."

The Comte nodded grimly, then returned his attention to his brother. "You will return to the manor with me, brother. It is likely your "paramour" will be there – she must have vanished with her dark powers to befoul and besmirch our home, now that we have denied her triumph over you. She will be captured and burned, as all witches should be."

"You are mad!" Raoul shouted, "You would condemn an innocent just to prevent some gossip!"

The Comte didn't bother answering, simply turned away and walked to his horse. There was no outrunning or escaping, Raoul knew. He could only hope that Christine was safe and faring better than him.

X X X

Like a lifeless doll, Christine allowed herself to be led away. She saw that Raoul had hurried after them, but she knew that calling him was impossible and would only make her situation worse. Her limpness had done nothing to dissuade Erik from dragging her through the woods. She knew it was him – only he would have been able to find her in the middle of the night. She had been afraid that he was following them, but had attempted to believe that it was simply guilt chasing her.

Clearly, it hadn't been.

She didn't resist as she was put on the horse and lost consciousness soon, entering a deep slumber, only occasionally broken. But she had stayed awake long enough to realize that they had crossed distances much quicker than she had with Raoul. Erik didn't seem to eat or sleep, or need to, and she, being unconscious most of the time, only felt the food being gently forced into her mouth sometimes. She ate automatically, like a sick person that was attentively being taken care of.

Finally, she woke up strong enough. Her surroundings were familiar. It was the chapel near the church in Paris where she had first been exposed to the horror of her dreams. Now, she was lying on a few blankets, covered with another. But she was a captive, clearly, for when she tried to open the doors of the empty chapel, she realized that they were locked. Christine hacked at them with all her strength, but it was no good.

Her emotions took over. She stumbled back into her corner, sobbing, and collapsed into a heap upon the floor. How long she had been crying, she didn't know, but she was very tired when the doors finally opened and her captor calmly walked in, not paying the least attention to her tears or her hysterical sobbing.

"Erik," she gasped, "please… please…"

"Please what, my dear?" it was a cold hiss, unlike anything she had ever heard from him. "Understand that you are perfectly free to run off with whoever you please? Of course! Naturally! After all, who besides your beloved Vicomte can guard you and guide you, especially when your life is threatened with such a horrendous existence!" He turned away for a moment and then suddenly moved to her quickly. Christine let out a shriek as if he had slapped her, but he grabbed her shoulders and brought her closer to him, close enough to see a bit of the pale skin around his eyes that was uncovered by the mask. "Why, Christine? Why? Your promise!" he produced the golden ring which she thought she had lost some time ago and flung it into her face. It landed on the ground with a click and Christine covered her face with her hands as Erik let go of her.

"Why have you promised to be mine when you run off with that boy at the first opportunity!" he demanded in a thunderous roar, "Oh, of course you cannot help but love him, with his wealth and beauty! But do you think you would have survived one day as a married couple? Do you think he would be able to renounce his world for you, Christine? Oh, indeed, he is a romantic hero, he would! And suppose he just wanted to have his way with you and then he would abandon you in the woods! He never promised you marriage in his little rant in the gardens, did he?"

Christine continued sobbing, but shook her head frantically. "Stop it, please, Erik, I never meant to hurt you, I never…" she screamed hysterically, "I cannot, I cannot!"

But the dark figure straightened up slowly, gracefully, observing her for a moment. "Your lover has been dragged back home by his elder brother. You cannot return to their estate. You have nowhere to go now. You have nothing left but me, Christine." Erik paused for a moment, his shining eyes never blinking or moving away from her. "I don't need to take you as my wife in front of a God whom I despise, Christine. But if you need such bonds to make you open your eyes, then so be it. We will leave this city, this country, at nightfall today. New clothes for you are here." He placed a bundle on the ground of the chapel. "I will return soon and hope that you will have come to your senses then and realized the truth."

"Don't leave me here alone!" Christine cried, "You cannot leave me locked here like this!"

The towering dark figure turned to her slightly, almost as if half-amused. "You would cause a commotion, screaming on the road, struggling. Here, no one will hear you. No one visits this chapel. The few hours we have left will be enough to calm you. If not, I shall be forced to gag you." He seemed to have calmed down somewhat, knowing that she didn't have a chance of escape. "Try to rest, my dear. You will need strength for the journey."

Within a moment, the chapel was empty, despite Christine's scream of protest. Again, she attempted to open the door by force, but no avail. Finally, exhausted, her knuckles reddened, she gave up and approached the bundle of clothes ready for her. The dress was clean and of a pretty shade of blue, along with a bonnet for her hair and a dark blood red cape. They were traveling but fashionable clothes, but Christine tossed them aside. She knew she couldn't escape and lapsed into crying again for a moment.

But she knew of one escape. However, she didn't yet dare attempt it. Not until her voice would vanish from screaming.