Sunlight streamed into the white healing room. A profusion of flowers, candies, and cookies stocked the nightstand beside Hyrondal's bed.

Hyrondal targeted his current visitor with anxious eyes. "I hope you will understand my decision to continue as Yuai's apprentice."

Onyx folded his arms and looked down at Hyrondal in bed. "Of course, I understand. I extended my offer to give you some hope and freedom, if you needed it, but I never fully expected you to accept. I know a relationship that needs to last when I see one. Hyrondal, I had free choice in choosing my mentor. I respect your decision."

Hyrondal relaxed against his pillows. "Thank you. I hope we can still be friends."

Onyx chuckled. His tattooed cheeks dimpled. "Oh, you will see too much of me!"

"I hope I do," Hyrondal said. "Yuai and I will be building up an excellent connection to the forest."

While Onyx was walking from the healing ward and Hyrondal was whistling to the birds outside his window, Thranduil sat at a council meeting, listening with growing horror to the rite read aloud to Oropher.

"It shall now be written that servants belong to the estate of their lord and shall be treated as seen fit. The cost of room and board will be lifted, but pay reduced to two silvers a day—"

"Two silvers!" Thranduil cried. "That is not even the allowance you so generously give your children. You cannot expect servants to do ten times what you do in a day for nothing."

"The best interest of the elves in question have been taken under consideration," Oropher said coldly.

"You cannot make slaves of your own kind," Thranduil accused.

"That word is not used once within this rite," a council member said. "You have a dark mind, my prince."

Thranduil glowered down the long table. "I am ashamed to sit here today."

"I begin to be ashamed to call you son," Oropher answered. "This rite benefits Mirkwood else it would not be considered."

Thranduil spread out his hands. "Benefits Mirkwood? You have lost your mind! Slavery benefits no one."

"This rite will clarify common misunderstandings between the classes of this kingdom," Oropher said. "You know as well as I that when everyone acts within their role, life flows smoothly."

"So you are covering up problems brought to you by concerned people instead of addressing the suffering in this kingdom?" Thranduil demanded. "If you want change, make a good change instead of spreading cruelty!"

"That is no way to talk at this council."

"This is not a council!" Thranduil spat, as he corked his inkbottle. "It never was anything but a breeding ground for tyranny! You want people to play their roles, my king, but this is not a bad stage performance. This is life! You do not have the right to segregate and discriminate."

He did not ask to be excused; he walked proud from the room. In the cold hall past the door, he stopped and remembered to breathe. His feet led him to the familiar security of the family room. As he neared the doorway, voices told him Harune was not alone.

Thranduil walked into spacious and warm room and stopped short. "Ailunai! When did you come home?"

Ailunai rose from her seat next to Harune on the sofa and laughed, her blue eyes twinkling. Her golden hair was braided into a crown around her head. "You know I love to surprise you." She hugged him.

Harune swiftly moved to his armchair and put his feet up on an ottoman as Thranduil collapsed on the sofa with Ailunai beside him.

"What happened at the meeting, ion nin?" Harune asked. "You are back early."

Thranduil's smile wavered. "There is a new servant's rite under consideration. It is nothing short of slavery, ada!"

"That is why I am home," Ailunai said, and held Thranduil's hand in her lap. "Rumor of the rite has upset many people and Mirkwood is unsettled."

"I will not stand by and see many of my friends become slaves," Thranduil said. He leaned his head back. "It is hard to know what to do."

"We will not do nothing!" Ailunai exclaimed.

Thranduil sat up fiercely. "I will never not do nothing. We will go on strike. It is high time Oropher realized how valuable the people he disregards are!"

"Strikes can easily grow out of hand," Harune warned. "But I think the idea is a worthy one and will help you."

Thranduil stood up and gripped Ailunai's hand. "Thank you, ada. Come, Ailunai, let us see if the idea is even will even float."

When Thranduil walked off the stairs and entered the kitchens, he received nods from the elves who had grown used to his presence among them. Thranduil stepped onto the chair Ailunai pushed in front of him and commanded the attention of the room.

"Many of you are sure to have heard of the recent servant's rite," Thranduil said. "I will not stand to see you all practically enslaved. Oropher does not realize the value of your work and he will continue to overlook you unless we make him see. He and his forefathers have overlooked you for centuries and have dared whittle your freedoms down to almost nothing. My signing a petition the last time your liberties were threatened is not enough this time. We have to say more, and we have to mean it! We have to be heard.

"As of this moment, I go on strike! I do nothing for or in the name of the King until he grants equal rights to us all!"

Nimrethil flung off her cap and flounced to the head of the gathered elves. "I was angry with you for marching in here and making a speech right in the middle of bread hour, which is a delicate time, if you must know, but I will strike with you!" She stamped her foot and put her hands on her hips. She challenged the crowd. "You have nothing to lose if you strike and everything to lose if you do not." She grinned. "You can help me eat Lord Vivain's dinner."

"Nimrethil!" Coral gasped.

"I am on strike," Nimrethil tossed her head. "As of today, I cook only for myself."

Perhaps inspired by Nimrethil's defiance or the allure of eating Lord Vivain's dinner, several maids threw down their caps. The pile grew as more people joined in until only the oldest servants and head cooks of the kitchen were left frowning at the mess.

"Come now, Coral," Nimrethil coaxed her teacher. "You have been at this for decades and it is barely worth your while! Why, many is the time I have had to smash up your drink bottles and many is the time I have been tempted to dip in myself after a long day with only the prospect of another tomorrow."

Slowly Coral took off her white cap. "I do believe I could put my feet up early for once."

Hafia, head of kitchens, warned, "You are in deep now, girl."

Nimrethil declared, "I would rather be up to it in my neck with friends than wander the shallows alone! You can keep on slaving for less and less and wishing for a better tomorrow, but I will work for my tomorrows."

The kitchen disbanded joyfully as maids used to going home near midnight left with spry steps. After a moment's hesitation Coral donned her cloak and walked out. Nimrethil gleefully dipped into a spread of ham and cheese meant for some lord's table and, as the remaining elves surveyed the increased workload left to them, even Hafia sat down and took off her cap.

Nimrethil threw up her hands. "Bring your family, your friends, your sweethearts! Tonight we eat like kings!"

A faint inkling of alarm swept into Thranduil's heart. "Nimrethil! You cannot encourage everyone to get out of hand."

Nimrethil spoke around the pastry in her mouth. "What do you mean? I will only ever boost moral! Do you think it would be reasonable to boost moral by dipping into the wine cellars?"

She grinned as Thranduil sputtered. Ailunai took his hand and guided him away. They stopped in the wide doors to the garden and looked back. Someone had struck up a tune to invite dancing.

"I will see to Jailil," Ailunai said. "You tell Hyrondal the news."

It was almost dusk when Thranduil reached Yuai's cottage in the woods near the training fields and dared interrupt Yuai and Hyrondal's dinner. The fireflies were coming alive in the woods behind Thranduil when Yuai came to the door and invited him in.

Hyrondal was sitting at the kitchen table eating but he looked up when Thranduil came in. Yuai sat back down and picked up his fork.

"What are you here for?" Hyrondal asked with interest.

"Oropher wants to pass a new servant's rights rite," Thranduil said.

"I do not like the look in your eyes," Yuai said.

"I do!" Hyrondal exclaimed. "Tell me everything."

Writing My Prince, I have not found that my world's political unrest and troubles have influenced my writing. Rather it often feels like it is the other way around . . .

Next Chapter: The strike does, in fact, get 'out' of hand.