I was opening my mouth to form a reply—not having the faintest idea what I might say—when Hamalitia swooped in from nowhere and rescued me.
"Your highness," she said smoothly and with a charming smile, "are you at all acquainted with my latest crop of students?"
He turned to face her.
As he did, Hamalitia took my trencher quickly out of my hands and gave it to an intendant who happened to be passing us. The awkwardness of needing to maneuver my way about the clearing with food in my hands vanished as if it had never existed, and Hamalitia's panic was only betrayed by a slight widening of the eyes as she smiled down at me. She proffered me a hand, and I took it gratefully, standing up once more.
Don't embarrass me, her eyes seemed to plead.
"I have not been introduced to any of the initiates," Thranduil said by way of reply. He didn't add that he'd like to be, but Hamalitia pressed bravely onward anyway.
"This is Filauria Ilitris; our singer. A very promising talent. I have been extremely impressed with her progress."
I looked up into the King's eyes to find him studying me. A shiver walked up my spine. Those eyes!
"Of course, all of the initiates are trained in song, dance, and the mastery of instruments, but Ilitris seemed to have a natural talent with the voice. It runs in her family, I understand," Hamalitia continued graciously.
"I recall there was an Ilitris engaged by my father," Thranduil remarked offhandedly, "for social performances and events of state."
I respectfully dipped into a gentle curtsey. "My cousin," I said, "Baradil."
He nodded. "Oropher was quite pleased with him, and bespoke him highly. It is no small thing to have a talented voice in the Court of Mirkwood."
I bowed my head slightly in admission and obeisance.
Hamalitia looked at me as if to urge me onward.
"Is his Majesty fond of music?" I managed to ask.
"If the composer suits me," the King answered. "I do not care overmuch for the new style being written lately. I find it mimics the old without any of the mastery to back it up."
Beyond him, I saw Prince Legolas approaching us and tried to steel myself. I did not imagine that I would be meeting either monarch this evening, but here it was, and I would have to see this through or my years at Court would be very uncomfortable.
"My Prince," Hamailia intoned, and the two of us gave him curtsey.
Legolas gave my teacher a bright smile, saying, "I must compliment your presentation this evening. I and my party were most excessively entertained. It was almost enough to dull the memory of my own tedious lessons with you all those years ago."
She smiled mischievously at him. "You always did hate to practice your scales, my Prince." Then, "May I introduce Filauria Ilitris, another of my former pupils?"
"A pleasure," he murmured, taking my hand—!—and brushing a gentle kiss across the back of my knuckles.
"My Prince," I said quietly.
The Prince wore a long jerkin of a sheened velvet material, with vambraces of gilded leather and a belt to match. His leggings were sewn of delicate deerskin, and his long, silken blond hair was dressed simply but elegantly. His eyes were brown this evening.
One of the court aides approached Thranduil King and whispered something urgently in his ear. I saw his eyes move as if to consider this new information and then he gave a short nod. To the rest of us, he gave a curt, "Excuse me," and then turned, following his man away from the clearing.
"My lady," Legolas said quietly, "Would you favor me with a dance?"
Behind him, Hamalitia fairly glowed with pride. I saw the slightly manic nod of her head and swallowed my panicked laughter. "Certainly, Your Highness," I told him.
Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm offered me his arm, and I took it, my fingers resting gently in the crook of his elbow. I allowed him to lead me away from the feasting tables and musicians and out into the glade where the others were dancing.
"Do you know it?" Legolas asked me over the strains of the song the court musicians were just beginning to strike up.
I did. It was a stately, strolling thing, all figure-work and patterns. Not too fast, and not languid enough to be considered a courtship dance. "Indeed, your Highness," I replied. "Castel's March is one of my favorites." The songs and dances were often synonymous at court, each known by the same title.
He grinned at me. "Mine is The Chase," he told me, referring to a complicated sort of reel that was difficult for the dancers to complete if played to speed.
"His Majesty prefers lively tunes, then," I commented, more to ward off awkward silences than to communicate.
The Prince gave me a small bow of assent, and we began.
It made sense, of a sort. Prince Legolas was renowned for his ability both with horses and the bow, and I had heard he was quite dangerous with the sword as well. That the Prince favored challenging dances should have come as no surprise to me.
"I do not mean," he added, "to say that I dislike slow dances. I am very fond of dancing in general. Just that I prefer faster ones. More engaging, more… challenging." And a devilish glint flashed in his eye.
The long lines of ellith and ellyn stood facing each other as the first few notes sounded.
Legolas extended a hand toward his partner—Filauria, the singer, newly trained, newly presented, newly out—and led her through a series of figures wherein they twined about the other elven couple in their set. Her hand was soft, her fingers long and delicate as they briefly touched his.
"What will you do now, my lady, that you have been presented at court?" he asked her offhandedly.
The maiden frowned. "I think I must pursue an occupation here in Mirkwood."
He nodded in approval, then looked up at her when she laughed. The sight was pleasing to him.
"I must confess," she said, "I had not thought over much beyond tonight. Once the evening is done, I have a lot of decisions to make."
Legolas smiled kindly at her. "I understand. Then let us not tax you. We'll simply enjoy and celebrate tonight while your victory is fresh. Though," he added, "I think you would be wise to consider a position in my father's inner circle as a royal bard. You'd make a fine one, if you have the ability to write and record history as well as sing. And I've a feeling you have."
The elleth grinned at him. "It would be an honor, but I'd have to be invited."
Legolas passed her off to her ellon counter in the couple beside them, and Filauria allowed her temporary partner to turn her and lead her in a figure about Legolas and the other elleth.
"Consider yourself invited," Legolas called over the din of the music. The couple had moved down the row of elves as the dance progressed and were now quite close to the musicians.
Filauria laughed as she rejoined him. "Can you do that?"
"I don't see why not," he retorted. "I am the Crown Prince. And I happen to know that the last four royal bards we've had have been ellyn. It would be nice to have an elleth back in the circle. It grows boring, you know—always hearing the same stories from the same point of view. I don't think it's good for any of us."
Filauria considered. "I'd never thought of that before."
They danced a while in silence.
Legolas said, a little too casually, "You're very good, you know."
"You flatter me."
"I don't."
When she moved to protest, he said, "Yes, we all receive fine arts training, combat, history—everything. You know as well as I do what it takes to mature as elves. But every few hundred years, a raw talent pops up. It is believe that they are blessed by the Valar."
Filauria listened. It was getting harder to concentrate on her steps as the conversation reached its head.
"They also say," continued Legolas, leaning across the row so as to be heard more easily, "That these bards garner attention both from their sires and from evil forces afar who seek to harm them. Not to frighten you, but you may be safest under the watchful eyes of our inner court."
It did frighten her.
"But as we have said," added the Prince. "I'll stop tormenting you now. Only think on it when life calms a bit."
"I promise I will."
All too soon, the music ended, and the dancers hit their final marks, bowing to one another gracefully.
Legolas offered Filauria his arm and led her away from the center of the clearing.