Ebony and Ivory

Live together in perfect harmony

For all that Maria complained about Robin rarely having time for her, Sir Benjamin would have loved to see less of the boy. He'd finally grown accustomed to being surrounded by women, after all, and now there was a young man constantly wandering his estate as well. Never mind that he was a DeNoir, and had attacked his guests on multiple occasions.

It was at this point that Loveday would scold him, he thought. She would pretend to be offended, and insist that he not speak of her family that way. He would have a chance to open his mouth before she would be telling him how it was this way of thinking that had kept them apart for so long, and how she hoped he didn't want that again.

"I know. How many times will I have to apologize?" he muttered to himself and to the Loveday in his mind, shaking his head at his own silliness.

Benjamin had looked out the window of his study about half an hour ago, just to rest his eyes, and Robin had been lurking about. After following Maria about for a while, the boy was crouching under the window of the piano room, and Benjamin was still watching him. Loveday's voice kept going somewhere in the back of his mind, but he ignored it, as well as the quieter, more Benjamin-sounding voice that was telling him he still had things to do. He was neglecting work, and maybe he could be a bit more tolerant of the boy on the whole, but there was only so much a man could take.

Only a few minutes later, Robin was gone. After a few moments of idle wondering, Benjamin put the matter out of his mind. Maria had moved on to one of his favorite sonatas, and Loveday was likely on her way up to his study to distract him. Robin DeNoir should be one of the last things on his mind.

However, two days later, the same thing happened. Benjamin may have been keeping a closer eye on the window this time, but he very probably would have noticed anyway. And yet again, he watched the boy sitting under the window to the piano room. Three days later, he was there again, and the day after that. The next time, he climbed up into the window itself, and Benjamin lost sight of him.

Apparently he had hidden himself well enough, though, because Maria had been thoroughly frustrated with his 'absence' in the past week.

Nearly a week later, Robin appeared on the grounds on a day that he knew Loveday and Maria would be out. Benjamin had been in his chair while he and Maria had discussed it. Maria had given the least subtle hints at an invitation Benjamin had ever seen, and been very clear about the date. And yet the boy was sneaking around the manor instead.

For a few minutes, Benjamin argued with himself. Should he wait, and see what the boy was up to, or chase him off as soon as possible? It wouldn't do for the boy to think he was welcome to skulk about whenever he pleased, but a small, high pitched voice in his head was telling him, 'You'll never know what he's up to.'

The choice was made for him a few minutes later, when a number of disjointed and dissonant piano notes floated up to his study through the window. It took only a few moments for him to decide that it would not do at all.

He tore himself away from his papers to storm downstairs, already putting together a lecture in his mind. This was the last he would take. The boy could not just sneak about his home and use his possessions.

Benjamin came to a stop outside the partially open door to the piano room. There was Robin, staring at the keys in frustrated concentration, trying wrong key after wrong key in an attempt to find a melody. He was so engrossed in the endeavor, in fact, that he didn't even notice Benjamin entering. Or clearing his throat. Three times.

"Robin, please stop."

The boy jumped high enough to bang his knees on the piano, and winced before looking up at him guiltily.

"Sorry, I was—Well, you see—"

"It doesn't matter. If you don't stop, you will hurt yourself, put the piano out of tune, and drive me mad. Then Maria will be upset, Loveday will find a way to blame me, nothing will be done," Benjamin paused to give a slightly exaggerated sigh, "And I will—Well, I'll have gone mad."

"That wasn't my intention, sir."

"So I gathered," Benjamin said, crossing the room in a few quick strides. "Lift your wrists, and don't press any of the keys until I tell you to."

"Ah, Sir Benjamin? What are you doing?"

"You want to learn to play, do you not?" Benjamin gestured to the piano, and raised an eyebrow when Robin nodded stiffly, eyes still wide. "I'm going to to teach you."

"But why?"

"So you don't feel you need to sneak in and fill my home with the din of your floundering attempts to teach yourself." Robin looked away again, somehow managing to appear even more apologetic, and at the same time not at all. "Now, lift your wrists, and sit up straight."

The first lesson was long and tedious, as Benjamin critiqued his posture, poked him whenever he slouched, and limited his playing to scales and arpeggiated chords. He had thought about trying to teach some musical structure along with the notes and how to position his fingers, but that quickly fell by the wayside.

"Robin, you do need to use the black keys," he said as he watched the boy struggle to transpose an exercise into a new key. "There is very little music that can be played without them."

The boy reluctantly moved to include one black key in his arpeggio, and frowned at the awkward movement necessary to reach the key. "Why? It's so much easier with just the white ones."

"I know. But it's the black notes that make things interesting." Benjamin waved his hands away, and played a simple progression of chords, all on the white keys, then another, with chromatic pitches. "You see the difference?"

Robin merely nodded, and Benjamin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Anyone would have been able to tell the difference. The first progression had been consonant, and perfectly acceptable. The cadence had been clear. It had sounded hollow, in it's consonance. The second had worked through tension, and the suspensions of dissonance made the resolutions all the more satisfying.

Robin kept at his arpeggios dutifully after that, but Benjamin stopped paying attention as an errant thought came to him. He thought he'd seen a flash of white and pale blue through the partially open door, and for some reason, his eyes kept moving back and forth between the doorway and Robin's hat, which hung from the corner of one of the chairs in the room.

Maria and Loveday were talking as they walked through the doors of the manor, but they quieted as soon as they heard the piano. Loveday put down her basket just as Maria laid a finger over her lips and beckoned towards the music room. While both were inevitably surprised to see Benjamin and Robin together at the bench, neither could help smiling just a bit wider.

At dinner that evening, Benjamin said nothing of the lesson, and neither Maria nor Loveday asked, other than to inquire how his day had been. Robin came by for more lessons, each given with the excuse that 'poor playing would not be tolerated in the manor while I am trying to work'.

Two months later, Robin asked Maria if she might want to teach him a few duets, provided, of course, that they weren't too difficult. She dragged him to the piano room immediately, and they spent an afternoon trying to learn a pair of dance pieces for two players. The hours of practice were long and frustrating, and Maria was nearly reduced to tears at least once. But when they finally got it right, Robin was proud beyond belief, and Maria kissed him soundly enough that for a moment, he forgot what he was proud of at all.

Oh, Lord, why can't we?

(So, yeah. This story has so many more followers/readers/reviewers than I expected, and apparently you all want more. So I'm trying, and I'm definitely working with some of your ideas. I'm not about to try and commit to an updating schedule, as I can't really write fun things on demand, but I can try to spend more time on this. Most importantly, thank you for your thoughts, and I hope you enjoy)