A/N: *frantic waving* Hi! I'm back with another chapter! First of all, thank you SO much for all the reviews! I didn't expect this fic to take off so well! There seems to be an issue with FFNET right now, so I can't actually read the latest reviews I've received *sad face*. I've been in touch with support and hopefully they'll sort out the issue soon enough. That said, please keep leaving reviews/comments and I'll try to respond to them as much as I can. Those of you who are following "All Bonds of Fellowship" will be thrilled to see a new chapter uploaded. Meanwhile, this'll be the last update for this fic for the weekend at least.

Let's take a deep-dive into Millie's mind :)

Enjoy!

Chapter Five

Adjusting

My first week with the Mirkwood elves was undoubtedly the strangest week of my life. Thranduil kept his word and not long after he unlocked my cell, I had my own room. I wasn't sure what to expect from elven housing, but when I saw my room I was shocked. While the dungeons had been cold, dark and sterile my bedroom was the exact opposite.. A large bed made out of oak stood in the middle of it, with a softer mattress than I've ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. There were two bookshelves and a desk in one corner of the room, as well as a wardrobe of sorts.

Given that the palace seemed to be in the middle of the forest, there weren't really any windows, but strangely enough it was still bright. Believe it or not, I even had my own fireplace with its flames crackling and dancing on the coal. A part of me still wondered whether or not all of this was just a part of an elaborate German scheme, but eventually I had to concede and acknowledge the new reality I had found myself in.

I crawled into bed and quickly nestled myself between the soft cotton sheets, which were more comfortable than anything I'd ever slept in before. I was given dinner by one of Thranduil's servants, an elf-maiden by the name of Aerin, As the soft sheets encompassed me and the muscles of my body began to relax, I finally gave into my fatigue and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

On the second day, I woke up to the smell of breakfast and tea. Aerin must have sneaked in and put the food on my desk not long ago. Amongst their other qualities, it seemed as though elves had keen senses. During my time in the dungeon, I noticed that Hallath and Thranduil would react to my movements before I was standing up or before I spoke. I couldn't help but wonder what other qualities these creatures possessed.

Creatures.

It was a strange word and felt condescending to use because by and large, they looked quite human. Except for their height and pointed ears. Using the word 'creature' didn't feel right and I made a note to file that away in my mind. There was certainly something otherworldly about them though, anyone could see that but. I just couldn't put my finger on what it was.

Thranduil's decision to let me go surprised me and I wondered what changed his mind. I appreciated Hallath speaking with him, but I had a feeling that Thranduil was the sort of king whose decisions were impossible to reverse once he'd settled on something.

I saw nothing of the king that first week and when I queried his whereabouts, I received no answers. In his absence, Hallath ran a tight ship and it seemed as though everyone knew what to do at any given time. Meanwhile, the elvenking remained behind closed doors and seemed to want nothing to do with anyone.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't frightened. This world, or at least the little of it I'd seen, was nothing like my home. I missed London even though we were in the middle of a War. I wondered if people noticed I was gone and if anyone at the hospital was worried. No doubt Mr Grayham would notice, but the others? Maybe Nancy Treymayne, the sweet nurse who had just moved to London from Cornwall. Truthfully, I was alone in London and I doubted that nobody would care much for a nurse who lived alone.

A part of me still pondered the possibility of whether or not I was actually dead. Yet, this felt too real to be any kind of afterlife I'd read about. I couldn't explain how, but something told me that if I was actually dead, I would simply know. There was also the option that this might altogether be nothing but a hallucination or a dream from having hit my head when I fell over just before the bomb hit. Maybe the bomb had missed me but I'd gotten a head trauma from something else. It didn't take long before I discarded that theory too. Waking dreams were rare but they did happen and this felt nothing like it.

Having discarded all my possible theories, I was left with no choice but to believe the inevitable: I was in a world completely different to my own. A world where elves, dwarves and wizards existed side by side. Hallath mentioned creatures called 'orcs' and while I hadn't asked specifically what they were, the look of disdain in his eyes was enough of an answer.

I missed my home and my tiny flat in Shoreditch. I missed the whistling noise of my kettle when the water was done boiling. I missed the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the window and I missed hearing the children play outside on my way to work in the morning. I even missed my grumpy landlady Mrs Worthing. I wanted to go home but Thranduil made it very clear I wasn't able to until they found the wizard Gandalf.

And nobody knew anything about his whereabouts.

So, for the time being, I was stuck in Mirkwood and I had a feeling I had to find a way to get used to my new home, otherwise it would become unbearable. I had been extremely wary and cautious of exploring anything much outside my bedroom until the seventh day, when I woken from my sleep by a terrible scream. It was a scream I'd heard many times before at the hospital and the agony was unmistakable.

Someone was wounded.

My nursing instincts immediately kicked in. Without changing out the nightgown I had graciously been gifted by Aerin, I jumped out of bed and, because of pure instinct, I grabbed my satchel bag lying on the desk before I ran out of my bedroom. There was quite the commotion in the grand palace and several elves had gathered in the throne room which was two staircases below my room. A group of elves belonging to Hallath's guard marched in, carrying a young elf on a sort of stretch between them.

There were scars on his face and neck that almost looked like scratch marks. Worst of all though, he had a deep cut wound on his right leg and I'd never seen anything like it. Black thick blood oozed from its entrance and some other kind of thick liquid I couldn't understand. It was causing the elf a lot of pain and a quick glance over was enough to know he was going into shock. Not only was his skin pale and clammy, he kept mumbling incoherently their language, which I found out was called Sindarin.

"What happened?" I asked and began to assess different ways to stop the wound from bleeding and potentially causing an infection and worse, organ failure if left untreated.

"My men were sent out on a scouting mission, and ran into Spiders." Hallath explained "We have foolishly believed that since the end of the war, the spiders retreated back to the darkness whence they came. We were wrong."

"Spiders? What sort of spiders could possibly do this?"

I knew that in some parts of the world - my world - poisonous spiders existed. Fortunately, I'd never encountered any myself but judging by the size of the wound, I dreaded to imagine what these beasts might look like. For a moment, I completely forgot about where I was and pushed past the Hallath to get a closer look. Some of the elves frowned at my audacity but Hallath didn't seem to mind.

"He's going into shock," I explained "If he doesn't get immediate care, he might die. I need someone to put pressure on the wound."

Hallath said something in Sindarin and gestured. One of his men walked up to me and seemed reluctant at first, but I simply took hands and put them on the young elf's wound.

"Hold it like this," I instructed as I rummaged through my satchel for a my medical torch, which thankfully was still intact. I carefully opened the young elf's eyelid and shone the light at him, but barely reacted to the bright light.

"What is that tool you're carrying?" Hallath asked curiously "I have never seen such a thing."

"This? This is just a torch." I replied "Normally we use it to see in the dark but at hospital, we use it to get a closer look at injuries. What is his name?"

"Gwydion, he is one of my chief scouts. Can you truly help him?"

I rummaged through my bag where I found bits of bandage and a small vial containing iodine. I inhaled a deep breath, because I knew this wouldn't be a pleasant experience. I instructed the elf next to me to remove his hands and poured a few drops of iodine over the wound. Gwydion began to cry out in pain and almost immediately, the remaining guards either backed away or got ready to grab their weapons. Hallath gave them more orders in Sindarin and they stood down. Iodine was normally a painful experience but what surprised me even more was how the goo that wasn't blood began to bubble.

Almost as if it was a chemical reaction and that concerned me because I was out of my league. I knew I had to try and eventually, the iodine began to do its work and the oozing ceased. The strange goo dissipated and while there was still blood to deal with, Gwydion calmed down. I was able to clean off most of the blood using a bit of the bandage. I pushed up his leg and asked the other elf to hold on while I dressed the wound with what was left of my bandage. Gwydion was still in pain, but I knew I had one more solution that could help a little. I reached into my bag again and pulled out yet another small vial containing clear liquid. I knew I had to be extremely careful, just enough could make the pain go away for a while, but too much could do more damage than good. I opened up Gwydion's mouth and used my finger to very carefully tap the vile as a few drops fell into his mouth.

Uncomfortable silence filled the air.

I knew I'd overstepped the unspoken boundaries and I'd have to deal with the consequences of that later. I became a nurse so that I could help people, so how I could I just watch someone suffer without doing anything. Eventually, Gwydion stopped fidgeting and his breathing became steadier. I opened his eyes and shone my torch to see how his pupils reacted and it was more normal now. I exhaled a breath I hadn't even realised I was holding and relaxed.

I turned to Hallath whose expression was nothing short of amazement and confusion.

"He'll live, but he's going to be in pain for a while." I explained "Someone will have to see to him daily."

"How did you know how to do that?" Hallath asked "Humans aren't usually able to heal elves."

"Like I said, I'm a nurse." I told him "I'm trained to help people."

Hallath didn't seem particularly by my short answer but that was all there was to it. I was curious about what kind of medicine they used here, especially if they had giant spiders to worry about.

"What is that liquid?" Hallath asked and I had a feeling I would be getting a lot of questions.

"Oh this? This is called morphine." I replied "It's a painkiller we use for more serious injuries. It's extremely powerful so I would be very careful with that if I were you."

I watched as the elves carried Gwydion on the stretch and I could only assume they were taking him to an infirmary of some kind.

"It appears there is much more to you than meets the eye. I owe you a great debt, Millicent Thomas." Hallath said

"There's no need to thank me, I'm only doing my job." I told him "But I would like to check up on Gwydion later, if that's alright?"

Hallath only nodded and I was about to speak again, when I for some cast a glance upwards and saw King Thranduil a couple of stories up. The elvenking stood there, wearing his elegant robes and leaned against the wooden railing looking down at us. His face was expressionless, but for a brief moment his eyes locked with mine and I saw something new in them I hadn't seen before.

Curiosity.

The very moment Thranduil noticed I was paying attention, he looked away and walked back through corridor, no doubt to once more lock himself into his chambers.

To be continued….
There we go, another not so very long chapter, but they'll get longer as we go on. I'm still figuring out the plot as I go. Also, I'm not sure if nurses actually carried morphine on their person in the 1940s but for the sake of storytelling, I've decided that Millie does. I apologize if the medicine isn't entirely correct, I've tried to do research to the best of my ability but yeah, I hope I get away with it anyway.

Were Millie's reactions to the incident realistic? Did she handle it well? What should happen next? Do let me know in the comments/reviews!

Next chapter will be up in a few days!