Luna POV

Its fur was worn out, it's clothes dull and it symbols dented. All the same Luna could not help but stare at the odd little thing before her.

"How much?"she asked the moustachioed stall owner. He chewed on his cheek for a bit and then ran a swollen hand over his oiled hair.

"Forty" Luna laughed and shook her head

"Twenty" the owner pursed his lips and smiled

"You see, miss, this unique item is all the way from Paris and is quite old, through it has a marvellous, still working, music box within."

"It still has matted fur, frayed clothes and bent symbols"

"It is a antique, miss"

"More like it was cared for on its trip from Paris" his face turned the colour of a raw ham and he clenched his teeth

"As a favour I'll take thirty"

"As a fair deal I'll give twenty five" a jerk, a convulsion of the face and he nodded. Handing over the money she waited as it was boxed, and tied with a spitefully thin rope.

Yes, it was stupid for her to be buying such trinkets when food and clothes needed to be brought as well, but fort he first time she could actually spare the expense. This brought a childish smile to her face and a hop in her step.

The cobweb of corridors that lead to her new practice room where finally becoming familiar to her, after a five days of exploring them. Her lessons were strange to say the least, first it was breathing; a whole day on how she should hold her breath and how long she could. The second wad on posture, she didn't play her violin, she just was thought how to stand and hold the bow. Fourth was tuning, how to turn the sliver knobs until her violin sounded better than ever. Fifth was see how well she could detect a melody and copy it onto her violin, this was simple enough, until the started playing pieces that were so beautifully chaotic she actually found herself just staring at his frantic fingers flying over the keys.

She wondered what lesson was in store for her next visit as she stood in front of the ebony door, fist prepared in a knock. But then she noticed something strange, he wasn't playing. Every time she had ever gone down into the room, he was always sat, like a sentry, at his sleek piano fingers dancing in some distant melody. Today there was nothing, pure utter silence, she opened the door and peaked inside, a candle guttered in the corner of the room, it flame almost dead stubbornly flickering in an aimless dance. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she eventually silver candles and lit them off the dying one. Turning to survey the room she stopped dead in her tracks. He was there at his piano as always, but he wasn't playing and his amber eyes did not burn at her. For they were concealed behind tight eyelids. It was strange, part of her thought him not capable of sleep, but it was the resents of childish superstition. He reminded her of a butterfly that lands on your finger, it's seems perfect and wonderful, but you know if you make the slightest of movements you'll disturb the poor thing and never see it again. She found herself matching his her breath and she slid down the wall behind her. She did not know how long she sat there, with a ghost sleeping beside her, but something brought her thoughts back into the moment. Her hand was resting on the splintered wood of the box. A smile flickered across her face.

Erik POV

He had found no rest in the darkness as he bore new music into the world. Something seemed to be bothering him, and it was Luna. He needed to tell her, to confront the problem, but he couldn't bring himself to in the short time they had spent together the girl had enthralled him in both curiosity and pleasure. She had a way with that violin of hers, it wasn't something she held and played. It seemed to come as naturally as eating or breathing came to most people. He sat and pondered this problem until he left the world of the awakened. He couldn't remember when he fell asleep but he had, and he dreamt of fire and ice. Then he was awakened to a familiar sound, it chimed in his head and bubbled forth in words and he found himself reciting them as the music played.

"Masquerade paper faces on display,

Masquerade,

hide your face so the world will never find you"

A bitter sweet smile crossed his lips and his eyes fluttered open to see the face of an old friend. He was old indeed, with his fur worn out and matted, his face worn out, his clothes were thread bear and his symbols dented. But he still was there, and he chimed that little song too... Guess they had both been through better times. But know his brain had woken up and he saw behind it, Luna, her eyes closed blissfully and with an easy smile across her face. He felt loathed to disturb her peace so he joined her in relaxing as the song played out. Once the music ended and the monkey stopped playing his symbols, she opened her eyes. And she gasped, and muttered a word in surprise, Erik's ear pricked up at the sound as he recognised the language Romani... The language of the gypsies, the language of the people who enslaved and beat him for seven years. His teeth gritted in anger and hatred burned up his throat.

"What's that, girl?"he growled

"Oh, nothing Monsieur." She said in French.

"Really?" He asked "sounds to me like the language of scum"

Her face reddened "who are you talking about"

"Who else?" He said crossing his arms "the gypsies"

"We are not scum!" She snapped

"We?"

"Yes we, so what if I'm a Gypsy?" Her eyes burned with fury "does that make me any less able to play the violin?"

"It means your are part of a people, that are thieves, vagabonds and complete pieces of shit"

She tightened her fist and smacked him, despite her thin arm, the blow knocked his head back and snug wildly. He heard something clatter to the floor, it was thin and round and a convulsion of horror struck him. It was his mask, the slap had taken it clean off and sent it too the floor.

Instinct took over now, his hand flew up to his face and he fell to the floor grasping his his mask. He clumsy put it on with rage as fury burned through him. He turn to the wretched girl, waiting to see the usual look on her face, horror, disgust and pity.

Instead she just stared at him with those velvet eyes.

"Erik?" He straightened

"How the hell do you know my name?"

Haha left you on a cliffhanger, don't worry through that won't last long, the best way. To find out when I'll be uploading next is to follow me on tumblr, blog/theladywithapen, is my blog