I did not enjoy the series of interviews I endured then. It seemed I spoke to one elvish official after another, always attempting to prove myself. I've never liked impressing someone under duress, and that especially when something of my happiness, livelihood, or both, depended on it.

I was vaguely aware that two other applicants and I all vied for the same position, but tried not to let myself think about it too carefully. At length, I was passed on through the ranks until the very last round of interviews, after which I was hired under probation as a Royal Bard of the Court. A triumphant grin kept stealing over my face the whole rest of the day. I had done it! The liaison and I exchanged pleasantries—and a hefty bonus packet wrapped in parchment and stamped with an official court seal—and then I fled.

I forgot to look for the Prince and thank him.

I returned to my residence that evening to try and relax. The whole ordeal was completely surreal. The very next morning, I would be summoned to court to take up my post. I had just removed some of my jewelry and sunk down onto my bed when I heard a knock at my door.

It was another message.

This one took me by surprise, and seemed to demand that I was to move that very evening across the compound and into a new residence, one sanctioned by the royal family. The letter went on to explain that all in service of Thranduil, King of the Mirkwood, were expected to reside in appointed chambers that he sanctioned himself. At this, I was irritated. I had expected any extra time allotted to me would be mine for studying, resting, practicing, and lining up material. Now all of that was thwarted. I knew enough of our king to know that stubbornness on this front would not be tolerated, and might even result in my expulsion from my new—and quite coveted—position.

But the letter did say that other than explaining to intendants where I would like my things deposited, I need not move or organize anything myself. That softened the blow a little.

The last line informed me that the messenger would wait for my reply. For the first time in my paltry existence, I had a footman of the king waiting on me!

Panicked, I opened my door and looked out into the open corridor. In the distance, I noticed a pair of elves ascending an open staircase to one of the dining chambers.

A tall ellon stood placidly by and only allowed his eyes to regard me for an instant before resuming his post. It was inexplicably funny. A shriek of a ridiculous giggle welled up in my throat, but I swallowed it.

"Hullo, there?" I said in a quavering voice directed at the footman.

The ellon turned to regard me with a swirl of long, clinging velvet robes. "My lady," he replied.

For a moment, I was at a loss, then said helplessly. "I understand I have been summoned. I need but a moment to collect my things, and then I will be ready. The appointed elf-kin may begin moving the larger pieces of furniture now."

He gave a slow nod and I went back inside. Hopefully that was done correctly, I thought. Or mostly correctly.

A few hours later, I sat up awkwardly in my bed, enrobed in a rich gown with the royal family's crest on it. The ceiling in my new residence was cavernous, and all of my furniture seemed to hug the walls, leaving too much space between me and my things. It was cold, and the lighting was all wrong. My music, stories, and poetry sat unstudied on a chair to my left. This place smelled different. I was utterly cowed, but nonetheless managed to fall asleep, for suddenly the birds were chirping throughout the forest canopy, and one even flew into my residence to perch on my dressing drawers, upon which it shat.

I should have recognized the omen when I saw it.

I dressed hastily and made my way to one of the main halls for some refreshment, where I took cold mint tea, Fairy Clock blossoms over a salad, and a seeded scone. Then I had to remind myself to change course and not return to my former residence while I went back to collect my things.

The hall to the royal chambers was one I'd strolled past for years but never taken, and now I took it.

I was shaking.

All manner of elven-kin were clustered about the entrance, which I preferred to the stony silence I had been expecting. A few of them eyed my garb suspiciously, and I wished belatedly that I'd taken more care curating my attire over the years. I'd worn my best, but even that seemed out of place at present.

All at once I entered the main audience chamber, and was surprised by even more casual activity. My eye was drawn instantly to the King, who sat upon his carved stone chair and oversaw scroll after scroll upon a makeshift table pulled up for the purpose. Courtiers and officials had lined up to speak with him, and his intelligent eyes flitted from one elf to another, listening, nodding, and speaking quietly to them.

Around the perimeter of the chamber, others were engaged in paperwork, overseeing maps of Mirkwood and beyond. I espied a group of military generals in one corner, discussing territorial movements.

Suddenly, a sharp voice spoke out behind me, saying, "What is your purpose here, young elleth?"

I jumped nearly out of my skin, but managed to recover some of my composure. It was a member of the royal guard, denoted by the color of his robes and the fit of his open helm.

"I—I wait upon his Majesty, Thranduil King," I said lamely.

The ellon's gaze was blank as he rejoined coldly, "Don't we all."

When I realized that if I did not speak for myself, the he-elf might threaten to remove me from the premises, I drew myself up to my full height and added, "I was engaged but yesterday to act as a royal bard of the court. I have reported, as you see."

The guard seemed surprised, and another ellon—older than he, came up to join us.

"My lady," he said smoothly. "I am Ayduin, member of the Elvenking's consort. I am aware of your situation, and on behalf of the court, I welcome you to the inner circle." He shot a quick but emotionless glance to the guard, who gave a tiny salute and patrolled on, leaving us.

I looked back at Ayduin and gave him a curtsy. "I thank you, my lord," I murmured.

He smiled. "A new bard has not been selected at court in hundreds of years," he continued. "Our High King will be pleased. Come." And he motioned to lead me toward the throne.

My throat constricted convulsively, and I felt my palms become instantly damp with sweat. "Doesn't he know already?" I whispered to the he-elf, but he did not appear to hear me.

"My King," Ayduin said, and bowed to Thranduil. The courtiers and attendants clustered around the King parted to allow for our arrival. I clutched my things in front of me and endeavoured to look nonplussed.

The Elvenking stopped mid conversation, looking a trifle annoyed at the interruption. "Yes?"

"The new bard," my champion intoned, indicating me with a gesture, and then those crystal blue eyes were upon me, taking in every detail, every flaw.

I met his stare impassively for a moment, then, still clutching my music books to my chest, I dipped down into a deep, slow, respectful curtsy.

"Ah," he said distractedly. He looked at my books. "Yes. From the Solstice Celebration. You unwittingly flung a mushroom at someone, and then tried to give me food."

My heart flipped over and my cheeks positively flamed.

"Highness?" Ayduin attempted to clarify.

Thranduil did not answer him. Instead, he indicated that the table covered with sheaves of parchment be moved so that he could stand. At his full height, he towered over me. He wore his iridescent robe, the long-sleeved one, and the spikes of his crown bore summer leaves and berries. His skin was so pale, so perfect, as to appear translucent, and under thunderous, black brows, those icy eyes regarded me appraisingly.

"Welcome," he said deep in his chest, and it was a purr that resonated down to my toes.

The rest of the chamber, still full of elven courtiers, had fallen silent.

"Your Majesty," I demurred. I could not seem to tear my eyes from his.

With one long finger, he gestured at my music. "I see you have brought your own materials."

I managed a nod.

"Good," he intoned. "And we have an entire room for you to look through as well. I gathered from the performance you gave at your initiation that you might have an eye for quality. I expect you to utilize it."

"Of course, your Highness," I stammered.

He was now completely off the dais and standing on the floor beside me. His broad-shouldered warrior's frame cast a literal shadow over me in the softly-lit chamber. "Ayduin," he said quietly, and then, "Kendel. Come here."

The two elves were instantly at his side.

"Here," the Elvenking said crossly and under his breath. "She must be fitted with new robes immediately." He pointed in dismay at the fitted waist of my floor-length gown. "This is unacceptable."

They bowed silently, and one answered gently, "It shall be done."

"Good," he said. "See to it. Then bring her back here. It will be time to sup then."

I kept my eyes trained on the floor while King Thranduil criticized my clothes. Didn't they understand I had moved residences late last night? Or that I'd worked tirelessly to secure my position all the day before? Though I'd dressed quickly, the gown was among my better pieces. Just what did the court expect of me?

"Good," he was saying. "That should take about an hour. Filautris, was it?"

I looked up at him and tried to keep the reproach from my eyes. "Filauria," I corrected.

There was a small, heavy silence while a glint of amusement registered in his perfect face. "Excuse me," he said. "Filauria."

I continued to watch him warily. "Highness?"

"Return to these chambers as soon as you are properly attired," he said. Then, a little dangerously, he added, "And a word of advice? I would respond to whatever assignation I deign to call you by."

I curtsied again, slow and deep.

The moment was over. He turned away and I felt strangely cold. Ayduin and Kendel bustled me away to the royal tailor, and I thought to myself that elvish royalty was not so different from any of us—just significantly, nay, shockingly, more rude.