Dark Prince

By DonJuanTriumphs

A Phantom of the Opera Fan Fic

Summary: A man of legends...or perhaps nightmares. The Dark Prince...a man who killed effortlessly and without emotion and yet could cause a woman to become weak with desire from his simple touch and piercing gray green eyes. Nothing is certain when she enters the domain of a man who has never played by the rules.

Chapter One

The snow fell in heavy drizzles upon the mens backs as they made their slow way onward. Exhaustion and the cold wore heavily upon their bodies and their hearts. They had just won a great battle, defeating the enemy with brutal thrusts of their sword. Should they not be rewarded instead of being forced to make this long and tiring journey? It had been over a year since they had been home. A year since they had seen their wives and sweethearts...their children. They wanted to sleep in their warm beds with their lovers instead of the cold, hard earth. But none of these men would ever voice these thoughts. Not when they feared their Lord Desslar so much.

The Dark Prince. He rode ahead of them, his shoulders broad and strong even against the harsh push of the angry winter wind. At his side was a sword that he had used countless times to kill more men then any of the others would care to remember. On his face he wore a mask, covering the whole right half of his face. None of them knew why he wore it, although there were discussions about it every time he was not around. Some said it housed the greatest horror any could have ever imagined. Some said it was merely something to add to the fear everyone saw in him. But no matter what you thought no one dare touch it, knowing he would kill anyone who did so, be it man or woman.

"Marc, ask him how much further," young Raoul de Chagny begged of the man who rode beside him. Marc glanced at the young man, with his blonde hair and blue eyes. Many a maiden had fallen under the young mans charms, but in that certain area Marc still outweighed him. Marc sighed. No one dared voice any of their discomforts, instead asking Marc to do so, knowing the Dark Prince and he had a sort of friendship that none of them would ever understand.

"You are all a bunch of maidens!" Marc said, although he too was beginning to tire of the long journey. Kicking his horse roughly in the side he made his way to the front of the company, where the Dark Prince led.

"I could use a warm bed and a willing lass, my lord," Marc said, trying to keep a hint of humour in his voice. Dark gray green eyes found his set in an emotionless face. The Dark Prince said nothing and Marc sighed, not liking when he was in one of these moods.

"How much further, Erik?" Marc asked, deciding to simply get to the point.

"A little over a mile," he answered finally, his voice a growl. Marc said nothing for a moment.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked. Erik's eyes found the other mans and he instantly became quiet.

"Leave me alone, Marc," Erik said. The other man nodded and pulled his horse back, allowing the prince to ride ahead while he joined the other men.

Erik was in his own thoughts at the moment. At the back of his men a horse was pulling a wagon. In that wagon was the body of a man who should still be alive. He had been a good man and he had not deserved to die. But Erik had come to terms with the rules of battle and he had steeled his heart against any emotions. This was just another mans death. An honorable man, but he was just another casualty of war. However he was not looking forward to what was waiting for him at the end of this journey.

"My lord! Up ahead!" Marc shouted over the howling wind. Erik, however, had already seen the dark manor looming ahead of him and he shouted a command for his men to follow him, kicking his horse into a hard gallop.

xXx

"There are men riding towards the manor, my lady."

Christine said nothing to the young woman, instead choosing to run to the nearest window and look out. Indeed, there was a large group of men riding steadily toward her home. Who were they? They had not had anyone come for over a year. Was it her father? Her heart began to beat frantically in her chest. Her father! It had to be! Who else could it be?

"Marie! My cloak! Quickly!" she cried. The young woman rushed to do as she was told. Christine threw the heavy garment over her shoulders and rushed from her chambers. A year! A year since her father had rode off into war and finally he was coming home! She had been all alone for those long twelve months, no one to talk to but the maids, who usually were proned to gossip. But at last her father was home, and this time for good. He had promised her that this was the last time he would ever go into battle again. He had told her that he owed his lord one last fight and he would give him that.

Christine hated the man her father fought for, even though she had never seen him before in her life. She knew him well enough from his reputation and some of the things her father had told her as well. The Dark Prince. She had heard about the many men he had killed and how he showed no emotion in doing so. What kind of man could be that heartless? But his reputation with his sword was not the only thing she heard about...she had heard of another sword of his that he used to pleasure women with. She had gone to court once with her father and many of the women had whispered of the ecstasy he promised. Christine was not interested. She did not want a man that was so fickle with his emotions that he could go to that many women for his pleasure. She found it disgusting. She prayed she never had to find out what kind of man he was when face to face. Perhaps now she would not have to worry now that her father was no longer going out to fight.

xXx

"No!"

Erik and his men were not prepared for the scream that erupted into the cold court yard as soon as they entered. His men, so used to battle, drew their weapons, expecting an attack. Erik, however, barked an order that it was a woman and to put their weapons away. They all did so hesitantly. They watched a woman in a dark cloak fly past them and rush towards the wagon.

"Stop her!" Erik commanded when he realized her destination. Two of his men seized her and she struggled.

"Let me go! Papa! Let me go!" she screamed. But the men held fast. Erik swung himself down from his horse and went to the little woman who was causing such a rukus. Servants were all peering out of windows and doors, trying to see what their mistress was screaming about.

"Papa! No, please! Papa!" she sobbed, trying to get herself toward the wagon. The two men holding her looked helplessly towards their lord and he nodded, giving them the okay to let her go when he realized who she was. She rushed to the wagon and pulled back the blankets covering the body. Her slim hand touched the cold cheek of the handsome man lying in front of her.

"Papa...no..." her voice came out broken and forlorn, completely heartbroken. Erik's men-at-arms seemed uncomfortable with the scene in front of them and they shifted uncomfortably on their feet. The woman, whose head was shrouded in her cloak hood, buried her face against the dead mans chest, her sobs shaking her whole body. As Erik approached her he was aware of her whispering in a choked voice.

"You promised me! You promised me you would come back alright, Papa!" she whispered. Erik sighed. He had often heard Gustave talk about his daughter Christine as he and the other men sat around a fire at night. She was all he had had left in life and he talked constantly of the young girl. Erik cleared his throat, hoping to get the girls attention. Her face slowly turned from her fathers tunic. He could not make out her face in the cloak but he could tell that she was studying him very intently. Very slowly she got up, and though her shoulders were shaking she walked to him and struck him. The courtyard became completely silent and still, no one believing the fact that this young woman had just struck the legendary Dark Prince. Marc swung down from his horse and grabbed the womans wrist, cruelly tossing her to the floor.

"You will bow to your Prince!" he growled.

"I see no Prince in front of me!" she spat, throwing her hood back so she could meet Erik's gaze with her intense blue stare. Erik said nothing, completely surprised by the beauty in front of him. Gustave had been a handsome man in his own right but he would have never believed that the man could sire this tempting beauty. Chocolate locks curled wildly down her back and shoulders, framing a milk white face with flawless features.

"You are not welcome here, get out!" she whispered angrily. Erik did not move. This woman had a lot of nerve. He had killed men for less offence then what she was showing him.

"Get out!" she shouted, trying valiantly not to cry.

"I showed your father respect by bringing him home, would you disrespect me by turning me and my men into the cold?" he demanded. She said nothing for a moment, knowing her father would have disapproved of the way she was acting. But she did not want this Dark Prince in her home. Her father had died fighting for this man. And for what, so he could have more land then he needed? Slowly she stood up, her gaze never leaving his.

"I want you gone before morning," she said, turning her back on him to leave the yard, needing to make the preperations for her fathers burial...

"We have traveled many days, my men are tired, we will stay until we are all recovered from the journey," he said. Christine's shoulders stiffened and she turned to face the masked man.

"Then I hope you are comfortable in the barn," she snapped.

"We will not be staying in the barn," he answered just as quickly.

"There is not enough rooms for all of you!" she said, wanting desperately to get rid of the man.

"They will share," he said.

"Then I hope you can find them on your own!" she said, turning and quickly fleeing the yard. Erik watched her as she fled, knowing there was more to her then met the eye and wondering if he would be able to figure her out before he left.

"My lord? Perhaps we should leave, she obviously does not want us here," Marc said, coming to stand beside Erik. Erik said nothing. He had no intention of leaving, his men needed rest, as did he, and he would have it. A woman was not going to stop him from getting anything he wanted, even if it was just a good nights sleep in a warm bed, and perhaps even a willing woman beneath him. As he thought about Lady Christine he could easily imagine her beneath him in bed. A very welcoming thought.

"Mayhap you should go and speak with her?" Marc suggested. Erik glanced at him.

"The last time I checked I have never needed your advice on women," Erik growled. Marc grinned boyishly. Erik knew all to well that that boyish look had been the downfall of many young women.

"No, but maybe you should take my advice...who knows, you might even have Lady Christine warming your bed," Marc said suggestively. Erik raised his only brow.

"Remember your place, Marc," he warned softly. Marc raised his hands innocently.

"Your pardon, my lord, I was out of line," he said, slowly backing away. Erik said nothing, beginning to walk towards the place that Christine had fled.

"Where are you going, my lord?" Marc asked.

"To talk to the Lady."

A/N: I have wanted to try this story for awhile, I would seriously like to know what you all think, I was not completely satisfied with this first chapter but I promise it will get better!