He'd arrived at my door as a prisoner

A trespasser in my domain

Had he tried to run, it would have been fun

But he stayed and he did not complain.

After two weeks of keeping him captured

They finally brought him to me

His back was held straight

Even forced to his knees

And his eyes were a challenge to me

So I had him brought to the ballroom

Where my courtiers wine, dine and sway

Mortals can join but it is unwise

So the frailest of all took us all by surprise

When he asked if I'd let him stay

His voice already shook with exhaustion

Having spent half the night twirled about

But he'd asked for more and those defiant eyes

They held not a sliver of doubt.

And once the dance came to an end

It was hard for the stranger to stand

His clothes drenched in sweat

Barely conscious...and yet.

He refused every helping hand.

"Enough!" I loudly commanded.

And my voice carved a path for me

There he sat on the floor

And just as before.

He stared up defiantly.

At catching prey I am the best

So I left him no chance to protest

Sleep took him as I held him firmly

In claws that are meant for the kill

His breathing was deep and calm in this state

No trace left of his strength of will

What are you?, I asked

The small man in my grasp

You *are* mortal, of that I am sure

But to dance and sway

With the best of the fey

That's something no mortal was meant to endure

And yet you endured anyway

I've endeavored to solve all his riddles

And find out just who this man is

And then once truth is found

I'll still keep him around

For his eyes I would sure hate to miss

I observed for some weeks, and here's what I found

In terms of what could be called clues

(I present them to you, since you kindly have asked

Me to share if there is any news)

Number one:

He is smart, and he plays the game well

I do not have to suffer a fool

His speech is precise, yet he leaves space for lies

Conclusion: he must know the rules

Number two:

On some nights he tosses and turns

And sometimes he wakes with a scream

He sweats and he curses, he shakes like a leaf

All of this has made me believe

That he might be plagued with bad dreams

Number three:

He is hungry for sights and for sounds

And has asked me for paper and quill

I sneak looks at his texts

(I will write of them next)

But for now this concludes what I've found

P.S.:

What might he dream of on those restless nights,

When he wakes up a shuddering mess?

I wonder, do you have a guess?

There are plenty of guards in my palace

They are loyal and heed my commands

And yet somehow my prize

With those challenging eyes

has managed to slipped through their hands!!

They searched the whole place

Yet could not find a trace

Now they tremble before me in sham

But before I can carry out justice,

There's a quiet knock on the door

It opens a crack....

And it's him. He came back.

Most curious. What was this for?

I asked him of this and he answered

That he wanted some form of reprieve

He had to try

To see the night sky

And it worked, he now feels some relief

(Reprieve from what?

From my palace?

From the dreams that come in the night?

Or perhaps it is...me

He might not wish to see

With those golden eyes full of spite)