Bard drifted lazily in the dark. Slowly his consciousness began to return to him as he opened his eyes. Looking around Bard soon realized he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. Slowly the confused Bowman looked around the large room. He was lying in the middle of a very large circular bed adorn with massive furs and silks. The walls appeared to be carved wood and the floor grey stone tile. Light from the stained glass windows poured onto the floor reflecting shades of reds, blues, greens, and golds. Various objects were littered about the room. A wardrobe, vanity table, floor length mirror, and massive bookcases all carved from wood with their own beautiful design. Bard was intoxicated by the beauty he saw before him and it was only after some time did he see the tall pale figure dressed in robes of silver and red standing by the door. The Bowman quickly recognized the man to be the elven king Thranduil. It was then that he recalled where he was. He had come to seek the elven king's council in matters of trade. He remembered them sitting in the library drinking and discussing the contract. The last thing he could recall clearly was taking a sip of the strong elven wine.
"Oh, my lord Thranduil. I pray I have not caused you any distress. I have very little head for wine and I fear that your elvish drink may have been too much for me. Please forgive me if I have acted distasteful to you in any way."
The elven king said nothing and continued to observe the hunter before him. Bard shifted uncomfortably under the king's gaze. His mind swirled in his confused state, trying to piece together his lost memories.
"M-my lord? Is everything alright? If I have done something amiss won't you please tell me? I would like to atone if that be the case."
Slowly Thranduil walked towards the bed, stopping just at it's edge.
"Tell me, do you not remember what happened yesternight?"
"I am afraid I can not recall very much my lord, except coming here to meet with you, and wait, before did you say yesternight? Is it day already?"
Thranduil cocked his head to the side and gazed down softly at the Bowman.
"I'm afraid you missed the day, and the sun set some time ago. You have been asleep for quite a while. I had not considered the extent of the effect between the wine and mild blood loss. Naturally your body needed time to rest."
Bard leapt out of the bed and onto his feet. His head swam and his heart grew heavy with guilt. He hoped the elven king did not think him to be an unfit guest, or for that matter an unfit king himself.
"Wait, did you say blood loss? Was I injured? How? Where?"
Bard searched himself up and down but couldn't see any wound. He did notice he was missing several articles of his clothing, being dressed in only his light loose fitting white under shirt and a simple pair of tan pants. He looked up at the elven king. His mind was wrought with confusion made worse by the elven king, who was now looking at Bard in the most peculiar way. A small chilling smile playing on his lips. Thranduil chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"I must say you really know how to astound me. Any other mortal would be haunted day and night, but you manage to forget it entirely."
The elven king laughed softly, still shaking his head at the hunter before him. Bard's stomach turned and his embarrassment grew. He didn't like to be laughed at, even by a great lord.
"Excuse me my lord, but I think it is time for me to take my leave."
Bard stalked towards the door but was suddenly being pushed up against the wall beside it. The elven king wrapped his hand under the human's jaw, pressing him hard against the wood. Bard grabbed at the hand holding him but couldn't make it budge. An odd feeling began stirring in the back of his mind. The entire situation felt all too familiar and Bard didn't like it one bit. The elven king studied the human trapped once again in his grip. He observed each and every emotion that played across the Bowman's face. He was so close now, so close to remembering the truth. He just needed one more gentle push to go spiraling down the path. Thranduil smiled as he turned the human's head to the side exposing the small set of puncture wounds in his neck. With his head turned Bard was now looking directly into the floor length mirror. He could see the entire scene being played out, but could do nothing to stop it. The elven king leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the hunter's throat. His bright red eyes meeting Bard's soft grey ones in the reflected glass. The Bowman's heart froze and his body shuddered violently as the memories came flooding back. The elven king spread his lips in a wide smile. He could not have imagined a more perfectly petrified face than the one the human now bore.
"Do you remember now, my little elvëa?"
Bard couldn't answer. His lungs had stopped working the minute the elven king had smiled and revealed his large sharp fangs.