Viktor experimentally ran his hand down the strings of his harp to make sure that they were in tune. Carefully, he turned the pins to make some minor adjustments to ensure that they sounded perfect. Through the metal bars of his gilded cage, he saw guests begin to trickle in and plastered a weary smile on his face. If only he was a better actor, then it would be easier to keep up this pretense. His master's rough voice nagged in the back of his head. 'Show off. They're paying me for you to entertain them, make it worth their money.'

With a false smile, Viktor lifted his wings from where they had been resting and spread them open so that their aquamarine iridescence was on full display. He very deliberately arranged his intricately woven silver hair in front and behind him, silky soft against his exposed shoulders. He gently began to pluck out a sweet melody with his slender fingers. His actions had the intended effect. The party guests, with their favorite tittering voices and extravagant ensembles, began to drift over to him; they chattered excitedly with each other.

"I've never seen one like that before," one woman chimed to her male companion. "What exquisite coloration," she marveled. The pair came to a halt in front of his golden prison, but Viktor didn't look up and kept his focus on his hands. "I love hose wings. Do you think its master would sell them to me?" His smile and rhythm faltered a bit, but he quickly regained his composure and continued playing. A shiver of terror ghosted down his spine, settling in his elbows and lumbar vertebrae. His heart was racing fearfully, but on the outside he was exhibiting serene gaiety.

"Oh, my dear, you already have four pairs and you never do anything with them," the woman's escort chided her good-naturedly.

"I do suppose you're right," she sighed wistfully. Relief washed through Viktor's system. He could feel the lady's eyes linger on him as she and her partner strolled away to mingle, her thick skirts and tightly-laced waist swaying and she walked. Ice coursed through his veins when he saw the small wings protruding from the back of her ornate hairstyle. Those were a baby fairy's wings.

A lump formed in Viktor's throat and he gulped delicately, the corners of his mouth still stiffly upturned. With a flourish, he strummed the last note of the song. The next one, he decided, would be dedicated to the tiny fairy that had had their flight stolen from them. He was going to perform a folk song of his people, one that was played in the bleak winter months. The lyrics spoke of hope and family and bright days ahead, but he dared not to say them out loud. The humans had outlawed fairies singing in their native tongue to prevent them from casting spells. The fact of the matter was that besides basic soothing magic, fairies had long ago forgotten the art of enchantment. With urbanization, they had lost touch with the earth spirits who gave them their power.

Viktor plucked the first chord, and then slid to the second. His fingers began to dance over the strings in muscle memory. The familiar light tune rang through the air, and he was taken back to the snowy nights he'd spent around the fire with his community, dreaming of spring rains and crocuses pushing up through the dirt. The nostalgia and weight of the years made his stomach ache. With a flowing glissando, he finished. The cluster of humans watching him oohed and aahed, oblivious to his small act of rebellion.

Viktor started picking out a classic human number, and several of the more tipsy ones began belting out the words. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a person that stood out from the rest. He seemed to be solitary, from what he could tell, and was just standing there. His shiny black hair was combed in a hard part and swept in a wave over to one side. A tailored navy-blue suit coat was wrapped around his body, and a ruffled cravat was fastened around his neck. Tan jodhpurs accentuated his already large thighs. Those thighs…

Viktor swallowed and continued to play. The man wandered closer, a strange expression on his face. Was it… awe? Not quite. The fairy couldn't quite place it. Those russet eyes were wide, and his pink lips were parted. He continued forward as if in a trance, before bumping into the bars separating them. He blinked and shook his head to clear it, while the people around him snickered cruelly. His slightly chubby cheeks turned scarlet in embarrassment, and he looked at his feet. When he lifted his gaze again, the two of them made eye contact.

Viktor gasped softly when his heart threatened to leap out of his chest and what felt like sparks shot through his body. Hands trembling, he clumsily finished the piece. He stared at the human, heartbeat pulsing wildly. He could look into those eyes for an eternity, he thought. Alas, it wasn't meant to be so. He was rudely awakened from his reverie by a man violently rattling the cage.

"Why'd you stop? Keep going!" he demanded. Reluctantly, Viktor tore his head away and broke the connection, starting to play the first song that came to his mind. Periodically, he glanced about the room, but the handsome stranger had vanished.

To be continued..

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