Here we go again! You have FantomPhan33 to thank for this one, otherwise it would have taken me longer to finish this chapter for you.

Erik's POV

A few weeks had passed since Christine's arrival and I could no longer keep myself away from her any longer. Because of this, I started to watch her and the little Giry, who never left her side, from the shadows and my secret passageways. I had kept myself away from her for three whole weeks, but could not help playing a new lullaby every night. I wrote each of them down and gave them a place of honour on my desk.

It was not my intention to start watching her, but I just happened to pass by the kitchen when I heard Meg and Christine talking. It was quite cold outside, even though it was only the end of October and Clémaine made sure that the fire in the heard was kept burning.

The girls were sitting in front of the fire and Meg was talking about her dislike of the cold and winter. I would have left them to themselves, if Christine had not voiced her protests in a rather… loud… way.

"You can't hate the winter! It is the best season of the year!", she exclaimed.

"You would not think that if you had lived on the street during winter. You just have to love the freezing toes and fingers…" the voice in my head stated.

By the looks of it, Meg did not understand Christine's love for that season either and, believe me, she made it quite clear.

"How can you possibly love winter? It's cold and wet and dull and boring! You can't go outside because of the snow, there are no flowers, your nose becomes red and starts running…", Meg stated.

Christine looked at the ground and whispered "It reminds me of home".

Meg looked surprised and opened her mouth several times to say something, only to close it again.

That's a first…

After the girl's comment, it was impossible for me to leave. I had wondered about her past for some time now and my curiosity had grown during the weeks of trying to quell it.

After some time, Meg finally spoke again. "I have not asked about your past because I did not want to make you talk about it, but I would love to hear about it." She looked at Christine expectantly and gave her an encouraging smile.

"We lived in Sweden when I was little. The layer of snow would sometimes be so thick that it was impossible to leave our house. My papa would tell me stories of the trolls in the mountains, of the court of their king Dovregubben, of the Maras, of the lindorm that hid itself in the lake Storsjön and of the Älva and their trickery. My mother would laugh and tell the stories from the Bible. I once asked him what the truth was, what he told or what mother told. He just smiled and said that I would discover that on my own."

Christine watched the flames and gave Meg a sad smile before she continued.

"I was six when my mother died. Father could not stand her absence in our home, where it appeared as if she could enter the room any minute, and chose to leave. We travelled from town to town, from country to country. He would earn our living by playing his violin. He still told me stories, but not the ones he had told me before. He would alter them to fit into my mother's belief in God. He would play me "The Resurrection of Lazarus". He had learned to play it for my mother, since it was the story she told the most and she had always looked happy when he played it for her. Every time I see snowflakes dancing in the wind, I recall everything he told me in front of that fire."

I saw how Meg enveloped Christine in a tight hug and agreed that winter might indeed be a nice season.

I started to feel like an intruder and chose to leave them. I immediately went to the library where I would be able to overthink everything that had been said.

When I had closed the door behind me and had sunken into my reading chair, I started to process the information that I had been… given. Now that I knew where she came from, I was able to recognise her accent and I wondered if she still spoke and understood Swedish. I felt my excitement growing at the thought of being able to speak the language once more, but seeing as it might awaken bad memories, it might be better if I let the matter rest… for the moment.

After processing what she had said, I started to analyse how she had looked. She was no longer too skinny, but still had some catching-up to do. Her face was less sharp and the heat of the fire had brought a very becoming blush upon her cheeks. Stop it. Her hair had shimmered like golden waves in the light of the flames. Stop it now.

I rose quickly and decided that I needed a distraction. I went to the cabinet and took out a tattered violin case. When I opened it, I could not help but wince. Such a beautiful instrument, such a shame that it had not been treated well. It was out of tune, adorned with scratches and the bow practically had no horsehair left.

I had bought it from an old woman that owned a pawnshop. I don't know why I wanted to take a closer look when I saw it laying in front of the window, but I did. It had been apparent that, despite the scratches and filth, it was of great value. I had only seen one violin like that one before and the fact that it was here could only mean one thing: it's owner had passed away. That thought filled me sadness, for I had admired the man and he had been the reason I picked up a violin in the first place.

I had been nothing but a child then and he had been kind. I had escaped the watchful eyes of my mother and the taunting of Raoul. My eyes had grown wide when I reached the market of the nearby town and I was childishly excited. At that point I had not yet left the grounds of the manor before and I was overcome by all the sounds, sights and smells. Suddenly, I stumbled over my feet and bumped into a blond haired giant.

"Are you all right, lad?", he had asked with a deep, rumbling voice and an unmistakable accent.

I could only nod my head in response. At that moment, my stomach chose to remind me of its empty state.

The giant had laughed friendly.

"I think I made enough money for today and it is still early, so my little girl will not miss me yet. Would you care for something to eat, lad?"

I had contemplated his offer. The man had seemed to mean well and therefore I agreed. He had taken me to a small inn that was completely deserted. He chose a table in a rather dark corner and waited until the innkeeper came to ask what we wanted to eat. I do not remember what he ordered, but I remember that I only realised that I could not eat it when it was placed before me.

I had felt ashamed, for I had to explain the man why.

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't eat it"

"Well of course not, son! You'll have to take off you mask first seeing as it covers your mouth", he said.

My voice quivered as I answered him. "I can't take it off, I can't. Mother told me to never take it off when there are people near me. She said that they would scream and take me away or die at the sight of my face. I can't take it off! I can't!"

My voice had become hysteric and the man tried to calm me down.

"Easy lad! Keep breathing. I won't make you take your mask off. Calm down, it's all right."

After my breathing had calmed down and I no longer looked as if I was going to make a run for it, he continued.

"Listen son, I will not make you take your mask off, but I would prefer it if you did. First of all, I know you are hungry and secondly, whatever it is that you hide underneath it, it will not make me think less of you. Trust me."

I looked at him with distrust. My mother had not given me any reason to doubt what she had told me, but this man had been friendlier to me than anyone I had met that far. Because of that, I decided to give him a chance.

I undid the ties of my mask and removed it quickly, my eyes never leaving the giant in front of me. He did not yell, nor did he scream. He just sighed and gave me a squeeze in the shoulder.

"I will not lie to you, lad. It is not a pretty sight and I understand why you did not want to take it off. However, that does not mean that you should think the way you do. It's true that it's probably safer for you with the mask on, there are people that would try to use you. Now dig in," he said.

To say that I was not surprised would be a lie, but I took his advice and ate what was in front of me. It was the only time that I did not eat on my own.

When I was finished, the man asked me a question.

"Do you know what's in my case, son?"

I shook my head.

The giant smiled at me and put the case on the table. When he had opened the case, I could not hide my curiosity and asked him what it was.

"It's a violin," he said, "I've made it myself." He took it tenderly.

He looked around quickly and started to play an old folk song. I was sold.

When he was done playing, he paid the innkeeper and walked me to the gates of the manor while talking about music, his country and his little girl.

When we had arrived there, I picked the biggest rose I could find and gave it to the giant.

"For your daughter, sir," I said.

He gave me an affectionate pet on the head and thanked me. Before he turned around and walked away he told me to take care and gave me another pet.

I shook my head and returned to the present. While I started to repair the violin, my mind searched for a way to translate the falling of snow into music.

She loved winter. It would be cold by then and it was already on the cold side. She would need a scarf to protect her from it. Red would suit her.

That scarf became my first present to her.

Soooooooooo… What are your thoughts my lovely readers. What do you think about Erik's encounter and Christine's memories? Please push the review button, you would make my day ;)

Love,

LoreLorelei