Chapter XXV: The Hard Reality
(It was the morning Sophie said her farewell to the elves of Rivendell. The young witch had decided to continue to assist Thorin and his company on their quest to reach their motherland, and nobody was going to stop her from doing so. Lord Elrond insisted on walking with her to the end of the gate of his magnificent palace. The two figures stood facing each other below a tall chrysanthemum tree at the edge of the beautiful city. The small white flowers floated lightly to the ground and their gentle motion reminded Sophie of little snowflakes.
"I am ever grateful for your generosity, thank you," she said humbly to the elven lord who smiled down at her and nodded.
"Aa' i'sul nora lanne'lle - it means in elfish: 'May the wind fill your sails'. I hope to see you again, Sophie. May the spirits guide you on your journey," Elrond replied.
Sophie bowed low and she turned around to leave. However she was suddenly stopped by Elrond who placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. The young witch looked up in surprise. Elrond had a more serious expression on his fair face, and he bent down slightly and began to speak in a low voice.
"I feel it is important for me to warn you. The world out there is dangerous, Sophie. At this point I cannot foresee your fate or that of Thorin Oakenshield. But you must remember that there are those in Middle Earth who will stop at nothing to steal and use that phial of Animadur to satisfy their own greed. Some of those people hold great power of their own. Tread the path softly, young witch, and pray you do not cross roads with the people who wish to harm you.")
Despite Elrond's education, Sophie realized she still knew very little about the small phial hanging around her neck. For example, why did it arouse such a strong reaction from Thranduil? The young witch could only assume its powers must be phenomenal, considering Elrond had already tried to stop her from partaking on the dwarves' journey once.
Now clearly taken aback by Thranduil's words, Sophie stood where she was absolutely speechless. The elven King had not moved from his sleeping wife's side, although he stared at the young witch with his intent gray eyes. Legolas and Tauriel also stood at the doorway wordlessly, carefully observing Sophie's reaction. For a while, nobody spoke a word – everybody waited with baited breaths for what, no one knew. Finally, Sophie broke the silence.
"So….you need the water of Animadur contained in this phial to save your queen?" She asked uncertainly, and the elven King nodded gravely.
"I merely ask of you to open the phial and pass on its contents to me. In return, I shall not only release Thorin and his men untouched, but also aid him on his perilous quest."
"Why not take the phial now? I've been held down all this time…snatching it off me would have been a piece of cake for you. So why make this dealing with me?" The young witch asked suspiciously.
Upon hearing Sophie's question the elven King looked at Tauriel who gave a slight bow before walking out of the room. Less than five minutes later, the she-elf returned with a thin, brown, leather-bound book. Its pages were yellow and stiff, showing off the obvious age of the ancient item. Tauriel offered the book to Thranduil with two hands, and the elven King picked it up in a single gentle movement.
"This book is old – very old. It was written by the last standing elves of the first age before they parted Middle Earth and sailed to the undying lands."
Thranduil spoke in a low and monotone voice as he handled the pages of the book as carefully, as a mother would pick up her newborn baby for the first time. Curiosity got the best of Sophie and she took a step closer to get a better view of the mysterious, old book. The elfish characters which had once been written in a black ink had now faded to a light brown color. The arrangement of the quill strokes made no sense to the young witch, though she did recognize the drawing at the bottom of the page. The image was the phial of Animadur identical to the one currently hanging around her neck.
Thranduil began flicking through the leaves of the book, but then stopped at a particular page. He rested the book by its spine against the bed post, his eyes shining brightly.
"According to the knowledge passed down from the first elves, a single drop of the pure water of Animadur contains a force of enchantment powerful enough to bring back a person back from the dead. But you already know all that," the elven King paused before continuing, "What Elrond did not tell you is that only the true owner of the phial can get the lid of the phial to open and hence use its contents."
Thranduil spoke no more and instead waited patiently for Sophie to respond. Everything now made more sense to the young witch. Without her, Thranduil was no better off with the phial of Animadur in his hands than he was before he had even discovered it. This was good news to Sophie – Perhaps she could help the company escape after all. The young witch could honestly say that she had no desire over the phial of Animadur regardless of its remarkable properties. All she wanted now was to help Thorin and his company escape from the Woodland realm and reach Erebor before Durin's day.
"How can I trust you to keep your promise?" Sophie asked, the uncertainty still very much present in her voice.
"You have my word as King of the Woodland elves. If you still do not believe me, Tauriel and Legolas shall stand as my witness. Surely you do not believe that I will lie in front of my own son?"
Sophie turned around to see Legolas who said nothing but gave the young witch a single nod of encouragement. After a brief moment to think, Sophie answered, "Fine – It appears as though I have no choice but to go through with this arrangement anyway. But you must hold your side of the deal and let us go."
Thranduil nodded and watched excitedly (well, as excited looking as his cold demeanor would allow) as the young witch lifted the chain with the phial over her head. The golden liquid inside the glass shimmered brightly as Sophie held it up against the light of the lamp. The young witch took a final good look at the phial of Animadur and she found herself reading the inscription carved around the rim of the lid.
(To love means to endure pain for someone else)
The phrase made no more sense to her than it did that night after the horrendous confrontation with Azog. Sophie recalled that she had already tried and failed in taking the lid off the phial many nights ago. But the circumstances had changed, and the old woman who had given the sacred object to Sophie had told her to "use it well". Surely this was the appropriate time to use the phial, in which case the lid should open freely?
Sophie sucked in her breath slightly and twisted her fingers around the lid with as much force she could muster. But the phial would not budge from its position. She tried again in panic, to no avail. Sophie's arms were shaking slightly due to the effort, and her heart was pounding with a mix of confusion and fear for her friends. Why was the lid not opening? She was the owner of the phial, there was no doubt about that. The old woman had gifted it specifically to her.
Thranduil watched with raised eyebrows as the young witch continued to struggle. Anger quickly flooded across the elven King's face when he realized the water of Animadur was still far away from his grasp.
"What is the meaning of this?" Thranduil snarled, his smooth features becoming scrunched up with the violent emotion.
His sudden transition in mood frightened Sophie and she took an involuntary step back.
"Do you take me as a fool, witch?"
"No, of course not! I…I don't know why I can't get this lid off," Sophie stammered, but Thranduil was no longer listening.
There was a discrete cough from the back of the room.
Both figures turned to face Legolas who approached and spoke for the first time, "Only the true owner of the phial of Animadur can open the lid of the phial," the elven prince gave Sophie a glassy look as he said this.
At his words, Sophie could feel her face flushing in humiliation – her face was an open book and she hated that trait about herself.
"I'm not lying! The phial DOES belong to me," the young witch said hotly.
Thranduil who had his back to Sophie turned around slowly. His smooth facial features had been recovered, but the fury was still largely evident in his blazing eyes. The elven King raised his hand into the air swiftly, and Tauriel marched up behind Sophie before grabbing her arms behind her back once more.
"You have made an unwise decision to not co-operate with me, Sophie Burns. Tauriel, lock this insolent witch up in the isolated dungeon and keep her there until she agrees to be more submissive," the elven King ordered.
"What? NO! I'm not lying!" Sophie yelled out but Thranduil ignored her cries.
"The passing of time means nothing to elves. I could keep you as my prisoner for as long as a thousand years if I have to!" He sneered.
"Thranduil, you must believe me!" Sophie begged as Tauriel began dragging her out of the room.
Thranduil continued to stare coldly at the young witch, his hand placed on the edge of his wife's bed. The elven King did not move as the door closed firmly behind Sophie and Tauriel.
Tauriel briskly escorted Sophie down a flight of elaborately winding stairs. Her hold on the young witch was not rough but still firm, though that hardly mattered. Sophie was all too aware of not only the futility of her attempt to outrun the captain of the elven guard, but also of the danger she would pose on the company's safety should she anger Thranduil anymore.
The two figures arrived at a lonely cell, and Sophie's heart sank to see that she was imprisoned in a different area of the palace away from Thorin and the other dwarves. Tauriel opened the door of the cell with a large key that was hanging at the end of her belt before directing the young witch inside. The she-elf then locked the sturdy barred door and turned to leave. But just before she did so, Tauriel gave Sophie who was now standing powerlessly in the center of the cell, a long and thoughtful look.
"Thranduil means what he said. He will get what he desires, he always does," the she-elf exclaimed eventually with a frank expression on her face, but the words were not spoken unkindly.
"I am speaking the truth. I am the owner of the phial, please believe me. I just…can't seem to open the lid," Sophie answered in a small voice
Tauriel said no more, but she gave the young witch one last look before giving a little nod and walking off. Sophie wrapped her hands around the bar of the cell and watched on helplessly as Tauriel's long red hair disappeared from view.