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I shivered in the chill of her smile.

“Well. You have courage enough, mortal child, that I will grant you. But do you have the skill…” The Lady looked at me standing there a moment, and gave that smile again. “You play?”

At first, I wasn’t sure what she meant, then remembered I was holding my fiddle case. “I do.”

She nodded her head, and two… well, elves, or something, human in proportions but only one and a half feet tall, with delicately pointed ears that added another inch or two to their height, moved over to the door. One jumped onto the other’s shoulders and pulled up to where he could reach the knob to open the door. Steps slid out and she glided down them.

She was very tall, over seven foot, and very slender. As she moved, I could see her ears poke from her hair now and again, and realized they were just as pointed as most of her entourage. The gown she wore was almost as incredibly beautiful as she herself, and I know I stared. I barely noticed my fiancee move out as well.

The Lady said, “Then that shall be the challenge, child. We shall each play. She who plays better shall leave with the boy.”

Oh, he would love being called a boy as much as I enjoyed being a child, I thought as I nodded. “All right, but who judges?”

The Lady fixed me with a look that could melt steel. I’m not sure why I didn’t melt myself. “Do you doubt my impartiality?”

That was, of course, exactly what I was doing, but I couldn’t say that. Instead, I inclined my head without looking away from her. “Your pardon, Lady, of course I don’t. By your grace, you have accepted this challenge, when you could have ignored me and moved on, and so I know I can trust your honor in this matter.” I hoped.

Even if I was wrong, my words were right. The smile the Lady gave was warmer, if only just. “You show courage and wisdom.” She held out a delicate, slender hand, and a tall, dog-headed creature handed her a fiddle that was more beautiful than any I have ever seen. Dark woods, delicate tracings of metals, letters, no, runes in a language I didn’t know, and clearly made to her exact specifications. It was becoming even clearer that everything was by her exact specifications here. The bow she was handed next was the perfect companion to the fiddle.

And then, with no preamble, with every eye on her, she began to play. She produced sounds from that fiddle that I woudn’t think possible if I hadn’t heard them. Almost everyone began a lively dance around her, all but two of us. My fiancee was just standing there, his eyes still dull as he stared at the Lady.

I was the other. My heart had moved deep into my stomach by the time she removed her bow from her fiddle and raised her head, looking down at me. I knew as well as she that the contest was effectively over. I had never played that well even on my best day–which had been that day, if I thought about it. I had no hope of winning this contest.

And then I looked to my fiancee again, and knelt for a moment to open my case. The Lady looked faintly amused as I took out my fiddle and rose again, preparing it, but she said nothing. I knew she was only humoring me, but she wouldn’t interfere.

I didn’t look at her anymore, though. I knew I had lost, and that I would never see my love again. The only thing I could do was say goodbye.

I set my bow to my fiddle and began to do so, playing what my heart felt. It was not a song I had ever played or heard before. In truth, it wasn’t a song at all. It was pure emotion, flowing through my fingers and into the instrument, coming out as notes the ears hear but the heart feels. In those eternal, few minutes I played, everything I felt for my love came out, all the joys and pains, the beauty and even the little annoyances, everything.

When I was finished, I expected to feel drained, but instead I felt exhilarated. While he still didn’t move, there was recognition in his eyes rather than nothing, and I knew that, at the very least, he would remember me when he was gone. I looked into those eyes for a long moment before returning my attention to the Lady.

She was staring at me, her porcelain features paler than before and eyes wide. “You have won.”

I stared back in shock. “I… but… I…” I was very coherent at the moment.

“Your skill is less than mine, of course. But skill alone does not win a contest such as this. You have more in your heart than I, and that is why you have won.”

She turned back and began to climb back into the carriage. With an almost offhand gesture, she waved toward my love. He blinked a few times, as though released from a spell. “You are free to go,” she said, but I barely heard her. I was too busy embracing my fiancee, who was very confused but willing to return the hug.

“But, where do we go? How do we–?”

She cut me off with a look and a soft smile. “Open your eyes, child.”

I frowned. “But my eyes are….” I trailed off as I looked around from where I was laying. The car was a few feet behind me, and there were two holes in the windshield. My love was stuck in one of them, and I rushed over to where he was. He looked at me with confusion, pain and love mingled. “What…”

“Hush, my darling,” I replied, heart in my throat, finding the cell phone. “It’s all right. We’re together.”

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