- Chapter 24 -

They walked straight through to the front gates of the Woodland Realm, taking no breaks as they went. Shyloh's jaw remained clamped shut and she ignored the looks from the guards as they went by keeping her eyes fixed on the back of Gloin's head who walked in front of her. She was very much aware of who walked behind her, and frankly it set her on edge. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she thought she could feel his eyes on her every now and then. She shoved him from her thoughts, and instead went to worrying about Bilbo and their current situation. Where was he? Was he okay? What was going to happen to them? Where the hell was Gandalf!

The ties cut into her wrists, making it uncomfortable and painful but she didn't dare say anything. She knew it wouldn't make a difference anyway. The stern looks on the guards faces made her cringe and she knew they neither cared for the comfort of their prisoners, nor did they look like they wished to strike up conversation. Only when the heaviness seemed to lift from the depressing trees did she finally look up.

She had no idea what she expected to find when they came to the gates of the Woodland Realm, but the stone face of a kingdom was not it. Tall, smooth white pillars stretched upwards, delicately carved with such intricate details that made the stone look like actual trees; their bows and branches twisting and turning upwards.

Five tall and narrow doors sat behind the pillars, guarded by a sentry on either side. The only one open was the center one and that was where the company was headed. In order to get to it, they had to cross a narrow bridge. The water flowing underneath rushed by, with white foam forming over the smooth stones that jutted out above the surface of the river.

The stony entrance of the elven King's halls loomed over them as they passed under the great doorway and into the vast caves of the realm below the mountain. She didn't have much time to admire the scenery because they were quickly guided through a series of bridges and steps and she had to keep her gaze down so she could see where she was going. When they stopped suddenly, the Captain took Shyloh's arm while another guard pulled Thorin from the line up. The remaining dwarves cast worried looks at their fearless leader and the white haired elf, and attempted to protest before they were led down another corridor and out of sight. Shyloh watched them go as worry formed inside her head. What was going to happen now?

The captain kept hold of her arm and said, "The King will see you both."

He turned Shyloh around to face him, much gentler this time she noted. As he untied her hands she could already see the marks forming around her wrists, and she pressed her lips together in a frown, doing her best to keep her eyes from looking up into his. Why, when his fingertips brushed her skin, did it send her heart fluttering?

Having bruises on her wasn't something new, especially considering how grueling their travels had been recently, not to mention the goblin King's obvious attempt at suffocating her. What surprised her, was how gentle his hands were while he untied the rope. Odd, that she would notice something like that. Once the cord slipped from her wrists, she snatched her hands out of his and stepped back. Surprise filled his eyes briefly as he watched her rub her fingers over the fresh marks, and then he grimaced at the red lines that formed over her skin.

Shyloh and Thorin were led down another walk way, the carved stone pillars stretching and branching out across the high ceiling on either side of the carved out path. She couldn't get over the beauty of the kingdom and she couldn't keep her eyes from wandering as they went. Thorin walked ahead of her, his heavy boots making the only sound out of the six of them that walked in single file. Her eyes flitted ahead of her, looking at a set of steps that climbed to a wide, round platform. Armed guards stood in position on either side of the steps and Shyloh felt her nerves ebb away at her insides, sinking its claws into her. Scared wouldn't even begin to describe how she was feeling. What had she gotten herself into? The question died on the edges of her thoughts when they stepped up onto the platform and the sight that beheld her made her go stone still like a statue.

Opposite them, was the most elaborate throne she had ever seen. Paintings and drawings she'd seen in text books at school of Kings and Queens upon their golden thrones were nothing compared to what she was looking at. Up a twisting flight of stairs, the King's throne sat perched above them, carved out of wooden branches that jutted out like antlers behind the elaborate seat. Sitting there, wearing stunningly beautiful silver robes that pooled around his tall boots, the King looked down at the two of them with an expressionless gaze. His long, silvery hair flowed down his front and upon his head sat a crown of branches entwined with fall leaves. It suited him, though, and he wore it well. His deep blue eyes pierced hers and she felt the power and wisdom behind his gaze, much like she felt the first time she saw Elrond.

Thorin on the other hand, was clearly not as mesmerized by the King like she was, and he walked ahead of her just a little before coming to a stop. It would have been courteous of him to bow to the King before them, considering the fact that this was the King of the Woodland Realm, but he stood there with his feet planted firmly apart, hands clenched into fists by his sides.

She didn't even see their escorts go, leaving Shyloh and Thorin standing there in front of the King as if they were awaiting trial and conviction. A few guards stood on a raised platform to their left, and the two still stood at the base of the steps they just climbed. She barely moved, barely breathed, as the King stood up so gracefully that she was almost in awe.

To live so long, immortalized, was still way beyond comprehension for her.

When he reached the landing, she felt herself freeze in fear. He was tall, even taller than Elrond, and intimidating couldn't even begin to describe him. She placed her hand over her heart and bowed her head low as his eyes watched her closely as she remembered her manners, captive or not.

His eyes shifted to the dwarf, and it was clear Thorin seemed much less afraid of the King than she was.

"Some may imagine a noble quest is at hand," the King's voice echoed through the open halls, sending a shiver down her arms. His voice was deep but gentle and velvety; yet at the same time she could easily tell it was a voice she wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of. "A quest to reclaim a homeland, and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive: attempted burglary, or something of that ilk. You have found a way into the mountain. You seek that which will bestow upon you the right to rule: the Kings Jewel; the Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the mountain I, too, desire: white gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help."

"I am listening," Thorin said cautiously, looking up at the King beneath his bushy eyebrows, a wary look in his eyes.

"I will let you go, if you but return what is mine."

"A favor for a favor," Thorin summarized, and Thranduil bowed his head just the slightest. Shyloh's heart skipped a beat and she blinked in surprise. Really? Was that all it was going to take for them to leave the Realm and continue on? Perhaps the King was more generous than she'd been told...

"You have my word. From one King to another." Thranduil's promise lingered in the air between himself and Thorin but it wasn't to the King that the dwarf then spoke. He paced away from her and then turned to meet her eye.

"What say you?" Thorin asked, and her head twisted to the side in surprise.

The King looked at her curiously, silently wondering why the dwarf would ask her such a question. Who was this she-elf, and why did she seem so important? Never in all his years had he met an elf like the one that was before him. Her white hair was wild, sticking out in all directions and her icy blue eyes were rounded with confusion as she looked at the dwarf.

Silence flowed through the hall as Thorin's question hung between them but Shyloh felt the answer was obvious.

"A favor for a favor, just like you said," she said nervously, finally ungluing her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

There was something about the she-elf that was familiar but he could not quite put his finger on it just yet. She confused him and made him curious at the same time. It was as if she'd been touched by the Valar themselves, for even though she looked travel worn and disheveled she positively glowed. However, she was short for an elf, and held more of the characteristics you might find in women of the race of Men. Odd, that an elf would travel with a company of dwarves and he wondered slightly; why?

"Just that simple?" Thorin asked, his voice steady and his face expressionless.

She shrugged and frowned, attempting to figure out why this was such a difficult decision.

"Seems like a small price to pay for our freedom, what's so complicated about it?" she asked, and Thranduil almost smiled. She was obviously smarter than the dwarf in some ways.

"Was this your plan all along?" Thorin's voice changed suddenly, and she could hear the challenge between his words.

Blinking, she frowned again and stared at him impatiently. Was he actually talking to her, or was he speaking to Thranduil? His eyes bore into her though, and she knew then that the question was for her.

"What plan?" she asked, shifting just ever so slightly on her feet.

"You betrayed us."

Shyloh blinked again in confusion as Thorin's voice lowered. His gaze slowly turned to her and she felt her heart start racing.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded in a low voice.

"You brought us to these forsaken halls," growled Thorin.

"I didn't bring you anywhere, in case you've forgotten this is your party, not mine."

"You've been in league with him the whole time."

Shyloh's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. "That's not true and you know it!" she snapped but Thorin wasn't having any of it.

"I should have left you in that Valley when I had the chance! I know it is true elf. You abandoned us in the forest, only to bring guards with you to ensnare us." His voice rose and her face turned ashen as he slowly crept towards her. "You wear his gems around your neck! I can see it in your eyes."

Her face fell in shock while her heart hammered in her chest. Was he talking about the birthstone necklace her family gave her? That was completely ridiculous and she shook her head.

"First of all, I'm pretty sure when you were told to stay on the path that you were actually supposed to stay on the path, not go wandering around like a bunch of lost souls. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this mess. And secondly, I told you where that necklace came from, and it has nothing to do with this," she snapped, her voice radiating with hurt and anger.

"I would know those gems anywhere," Thorin hissed.

"What is wrong with you? I have not betrayed you Thorin, I gave you my word!" Her voice cracked and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks and Thranduil took a step forwards, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief as the little she-elf retreated apprehensively from the slowly approaching dwarf, feeling suddenly protective of her for reasons he could not understand. He held a hand up to his guards, ready to snap his fingers should this suddenly escalate into something dangerous for her. Step by step she moved back, getting dangerously close to the edge of the platform.

"You are as much a liar and traitor as he is!" Thorin's voice rose and his words reverberated throughout the open hall.

"Seriously you say that after everything we've been through?" she cried but he was done listening.

"I would not trust Thranduil, the Great King, to honor his word, nor any of his kind, should the end of our days be upon us! You, lack all honor!" Thorin spun around now to face Thranduil, his eyes full of fury and hatred. "I have seen how you treat your friends! We came to you once, starving and homeless, seeking your help. You turned your back; you turned away from the suffering of my people, and the inferno that destroyed us!" Dwarvish curse words spat from his mouth and Shyloh cringed.

In one quick stride Thranduil was in front of Thorin, their faces only inches from each other.

"Do not talk to me of dragon fire!" the King hissed. And then, a look of pain washed over his handsome face as he tensed suddenly, and Shyloh's blood ran cold. Along the elven Kings face, where it had once been flawless and beautiful, now suddenly looked horrendous. Scars and wisps of skin tissue stretched over a hollow space in his jaw, making him look like a horrible Halloween skeleton. His white eye flashed blankly where it had once been a marvelous blue. "I have faced the great serpents of the North."

Just as quick as the scars appeared, they vanished and his face returned to normal, his cheek no longer held together by tendrils of stretched skin that crept up his temple.

"I warned your grandfather what would become of his greed, but he would not listen," the King said, his voice suddenly calm and collected, causing Shyloh to flinch at how quickly his temper changed as he turned away slowly towards his throne. "You are just like him."

With a lazy flick of his hand, two guards moved forwards suddenly, snagging Thorin by the upper arms. She jumped and watched in horror as they dragged him back down the steps away from the platform.

"A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I'm patient. I can wait." Thranduil's words echoed through the air as Thorin was removed from his sight.

Shyloh's gut clenched as she waited for the remaining guards to take her but for whatever reason, they didn't flinch, and she felt like she was waiting for a jack-in-the-box to finish winding up before they sprung at her. While Thorin was dragged out of sight to what she assumed would be the dungeons, Shyloh stood shaking, rooted to the spot as if her feet were nailed to the stone floor beneath her.

When she finally straightened, she found Thranduil staring at her curiously, his head tilted slightly to the side as if assessing her. He met her wide, frightened blue eyes with his own and she felt her knees tremble. The captain of the guard arrived once more, and as the King's son stood behind his father on the platform, she knew this would be the moment she'd be dragged away.

"Why so scared, child of the moon?" he asked gently. "I will not hurt you."

The way he talked to her was very much unlike the way he'd just talked to Thorin. His voice was gentle and kind but she did not so easily trust him. With a flick of his hand he could easily have her hauled away too. When her eyes darted back towards the path Thorin just disappeared down with the guards, his question was answered.

"You think I will have you dragged away like him?" Thranduil asked, and Shyloh blinked, her left hand reflectively covering her right wrist. His eyes followed her movements, and a frown creased his forehead when he saw the marks. They weren't the only ones she had it appeared, because remnants of yellowed bruising still lingered upon her neck.

"You're the King," she said steadily. "You can do what ever you want."

He smiled a little at her words and then clasped his hands behind his back like she had seen her uncle do so many times. However, it had the complete opposite effect and only made him look more intimidating and powerful. Oh, how she wished Elrond was here right now. He would know what to do.

"What is your name?"

She swallowed before replying. "Shyloh."

"A strange name. Tell me, what does it mean?"

"It means 'his gift.'"

"Interesting," the King said, and then he slowly paced the floor in front of her. His son stood quietly, arms crossed over his chest. "It took me a minute to understand who you were, but now I know. You are the White Princess I have heard rumors about. Rumors that have floated on the breeze like a whisper to me. I hardly dared to believe such rumors were true but yet here you are, standing before me in the flesh. Born in Middle Earth but raised in different lands, only to be called home by the Valar."

Her eyes widened and her face paled but her surprise did not go unnoticed by him.

"Yes, I know who you are: daughter of Atanalcar, fourth son of King Elros, brother to Lord Elrond of Rivendell." Thranduil's voice sent a heavy shiver down her spine but he did not look angry while he spoke. In fact, he looked curious and gentle, and to be honest it set her bones on edge. Where did the cold hearted King go that she heard so much about from the dwarves?

Legolas's eyes widened with surprise but he neither spoke nor made any movement while he stood there in the background, as if he were one of the guards on the platform.

"Yet," he continued. "There is something about you that I find interesting. Why would Thorin Oakenshield require your assistance with his quest to reclaim Erebor? What is in it for you? Or perhaps...Lord Elrond?"

Shyloh stiffened and she pressed her lips together. "There is nothing in it for my uncle," she said firmly. "In fact, he did not approve of my coming."

"And yet you came anyway? Whatever for?"

She had wondered if this question would come up and wasn't surprised it did, so she had no choice but to explain her reasoning. While she replayed Gandalf's words he spoke to her that night outside Bilbo's house in the Shire before the company set out, he listened quietly.

"While I find Mithrandir's and your intentions noble, I am afraid there is nothing more you can do for Thorin Oakenshield. Dragon sickness has no cure. It consumed his grandfather until his death, just like it will consume him. You are right, I am King, and therefore, the dwarves will remain my prisoners until Thorin agrees to my terms."

He stepped closer to her then, and unexpectedly lifted her chin with the tip of his finger, raising her head and exposing her neck. He twisted her head to the left and then right, examining her.

"Have the dwarves injured you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

She swallowed hard and then shook her head. "No my Lord, simply a gift from the goblin King."