Count Wartooth had never felt quite at ease since he had arrived at Versailles. He had become the Norwegian ambassador after the death of his quiet and grim father. The entire court expected him to be much the same- unfriendly and brusque, and highly uncultivated.

He had lived a brutal childhood until the hands of his parents, and had never learned the courtly graces so essential to life in Versailles. The fashionable ladies and whispering gentleman were a source of fascination to him- his own holdings in Norway had been large but drafty wooden structures, and his clothing had always been simple. Simplicity was not the fashion, and he stood out in the worst way. And his French was abominable. As French was the world language of the time, he seemed uncouth and provincial, basically a curse worse than death.

Count Wartooth had only one advantage that he knew would bring him renown in the court, but he felt so awkward that he was ashamed even to mention it. At this point the electric guitar was at the height of fashion, and to master it was to capture the heart of Versailles. But Count Wartooth, or as he had always been called at home, Toki, was too shy to reveal his ability. He doubted his skills and didn't want to risk ridicule.

And then his luck shifted. His friendship with the lovely Marie Antoinette had come through their mutual love of animals- she had a menagerie of pets, including a team of small dogs that followed her everywhere. Toki was used to massive hunting dogs, but he took comfort in the lapdogs, petting them with childlike glee. The young queen had noticed his interest and smiled on him. She took him to her getaway, the Petit Trianon on the grounds of Versailles, where she lived in what she imagined was simplicity, but to Count Wartooth seemed the height of luxury.

"Those are my sheep," she prattled, pointing to a herd in the distance. They had been dyed pink, and Toki laughed in spite of himself.

"We have sheeps at home, but they ams…. different," he said shyly. Marie smiled indulgently at him. She didn't care much about life outside of her fairy tale world, but he had a charming way of expressing himself. He was like a child who was first learning to speak. And his face was certainly handsome, with his large, pale-blue eyes.

Even with all of her luxuries, Marie Antoinette's life often bored her. She longed for a project, and this odd foreigner with an innate charm seemed a perfect opportunity to practice her craft. It would surprise all of her friends to see the awkward country bumpkin transform into an ideal courtier.

She started with his speech, but he simply would not give way, and Marie, used to having her way, quickly grew bored. Versailles loved novelty, and if the courtiers would just listen to him, they would see the charm in his turns of phrase. If it had become fashionable to speak with a lisp, why not an extra s at the end of a word?

No, she would make him look good, and that would be enough. She consulted her dressmaker, Rose Bertin, and after ordering several new costumes for herself, she presented her protégé.

The impeccably dressed Madame Bertin peered up at Count Wartooth. If she felt amused, she hid it well with her pursed lips. But it was clear, with her measurements, and her suggestions, that he was shamefully dressed. She had him outfitted in a long embroidered coat and breeches, silk stockings and buckled shoes, erasing all Norwegian influence from his clothes and making him the perfect specimen of the French nobleman. Toki felt sad, because he loved his country, and enjoyed the small details that made him who he was. But it was worth it because he desperately longed to be accepted, and hoped to build up the courage to play his guitar.

Marie Antoinette lifted her hands to her cheeks with glee. "You look so handsome!" she said. Then she frowned and crossed her arms. "Only we must do something with that wig. Let us call Monsieur Autie!"

Toki sat with trepidation as Leonard Autie went over his hair. The hairdresser considered a wig, and then turned back, deciding to curl the hair and powder it instead. He applied powder to Toki's face as well, and light rouge on his cheeks and color to his lips. Toki blushed under the rouge. He didn't feel quite at ease, but Marie was clearly delighted, and he was happy to oblige his friend. He saw her face with its pretty features above him, and he felt a keen delight in her kindness.

"You dos so much for me, and I can't thanks you enough," he said gently, and she, with her natural affection, flung her arms over his neck.

"You are such a child," she said. "But you will be well-beloved here. We're not all schemers, I promise, dear Count. We also prize a good heart."

"When dressed in prettys clothes." He said, teasing her, but also with a touch of sadness.

She slumped down into her long couch, teasing a stray curl with her finger. Her ankle was showing, a highly inappropriate gesture. "I'm sorry, Count Wartooth, but we can't ignore our times."

"No, my queens," he said, smiling. "You ams being so kind to me. And I has something to shows you tonight."

She nodded, her eyebrow tilting. Life at Versailles was everything. What could he possibly show her that was new to her?

His apartment, previously decorated by his father, was in too shameful a state to possibly show her, so they met in a private chamber, a morning room which was certain to be empty. He had his guitar in its intricately embroidered case, and his manservant carried the amp behind him.

He waited for her and bowed deeply when she arrived. "Such pleasures to see you, your Highsnesses," he said, biting his lip. He couldn't believe he was showing his skill to Marie Antoinette, the most celebrated woman in the world. She sat down simply in a small chair, her round blue eyes lifted to him.

"Oh, I love a surprise, my dear count. Don't tease me- what is it you have to show me?"

He gulped, and her pink lips fell open slightly as he unzipped his guitar case. His servant attached the guitar to the amp.

"You can't be serious," she said, with a peal of laughter. So many courtiers had tried to serenade her, and so many had failed. She had such affection for the young man that she hated to see him embarrass himself. "Put that away," she said gently. "We'll forget this ever happened."

"No, I begs your pardons, my Queen," he said, bowing quickly. His heart began to race. What if he did fail? But he knew the power of his playing, and here was a chance to win her esteem and show his gratitude. He lifted the guitar, and hit the first string.

It turned into arpeggio after arpeggio, channeling Bach and Mozart, but also creating variations of his own, each more intricate and daring.

Marie Antoinette's expression turned from amusement to awe as she watched the incredible speed of his fingers. He stood upright, and gazing into an invisible distance, his hands moved with greater agility, and it felt as though a bolt of lightening had overtaken the room. He was in his chamber in the frozen north again, defying his cruel parents and their perpetual silence with the strength of his song. Versailles was such a different world, stiff and yet longing for genteel informality, and the power of his playing was a shock and yet a revelation.

He had noticed the crowds that had gathered at the door, lured by the music. Marie's pupils dilated, and she raised her small hand to her breast. He finished on a triumphant high note and let it reverberate through the room. Falling to his knees, he finished his song.

Marie Antoinette promptly fainted.

The courtiers gathered around, looking up at him in awe. They fanned their queen awake, and she blinked languidly.

"Oh Count Wartooth!" She cried. "You are a master in disguise."

He rose to his feet and bowed low, and the courtiers burst into applause.

From then on, the count's position at court was secure. He was a favorite of the Queen, and that was enough in itself, but he also was a certified master of the beloved instrument of the court, the electric guitar. He spent his days joyfully, in a playful tête-à-têtes with the Queen or her ladies in waiting. He was given the position of royal guitar instructor to the King, Louis XVI, which inadvertently made him one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. But mostly he enjoyed running through the halls with abandon, chased by the queen's dogs or the small children of the court. His eccentricities were forgiven, and many of the great courtiers had taken to adding an extra s or two to their words.

He was finally loved and admired, and he could not imagine being unhappy again.

That is, until the messenger came.

"To the Most Serene and Potent Prince and Lord, Louis XVI, King of France and Navarre," announced the small man, raising up his scroll before the court. "Monsieur Skwigelf, the esteemed master of electric guitar, will be passing through France en route to his home country of Sweden and requests the honor of an audience before you."

The entire court cheered. Few of them had seen Monsieur Skwigelf in person, but his renown had spread through the kingdom. He was said to play with lightening speed, and inspire awe in the most hard-hearted of listeners. It was rare that this bored group of courtiers had a treat to truly delight them, but all of them longed to hear the great Skwigelf. Besides his great talent, he was said to be endlessly charming and handsome. The ladies of the court increased the speed of their fans at the mention of his name.

"Oh Count Wartooth," whispered Marie Antoinette to her protégé, "This must be such a delight to you! A kindred spirit in our court!"

But it was no delight to Toki. He would have liked to hear Skwigelf- from a great, great distance. He had idolized the musician for years, but he feared that all his friends would lose interest in him once Skwigelf arrived, and he couldn't let that happen. In spite of his innate kindness, Count Wartooth had a strong urge to send his rival packing, whatever it took.