Chapter 4
Sleep dragged her from one corner of her mind to another. Her head felt heavy, her body weighted down into the soft sheets, like it was tied to bricks. She was sleeping but it was a restless one. Sigrid found herself trapped in dreams of drowning in molten lava, of being tugged from one place to another, being ripped apart and roasted. A picture of herself, running and stumbling around in a burning Laketown. Flames ate everything, climbed every tower and heated the waters to the point of boiling. There were no escape. The poor people that tried to flee the wrath of Smaug would jump into the water, only to melt in the corrosive liquid, their bones were the only thing spared as they floated around in the red ocean. She was in hell.
Tilda had been screaming, crying as they tried to steer their boat to safety, Bain and Da had disappeared and she did not know where to even begin looking for them. They needed to get to safety. The boat could sink at any minute and she almost expected such an outcome. Sigrid saw the faces of people she knew as they burned alive and died in the chaos. Well, maybe she didn't know them as well as she could have. If anything, they were little more than acquaintances as her family stood closest to her. Sure she had a few friends as she grew up but they slipped away from one another with age. As she grew older, she had to take care of the house, of Tilda and Bain... She had to grow up and tend to her duties, she simply didn't have time for friends anymore.
The same thing seemed to have happened to them as well, either that or they married early and underwent much of the same procedure. And so, it was strange and unreal to watch her childhood peers burn alive. People she couldn't even remember the names of, let alone the sound of their laugh... only their screams. Her eyes flickered through the nightmares and she tried to no end to wake up. Sigrid knew she didn't want to end up like them and even though it was a dream... the outcome, the finality of it all might as well be true and it probably was. She hadn't seen any of those acquaintances after the war.
Finally it all seemed to stop and she briefly opened her eyes to see that she was back in her sleeping chamber, deep within the confines of Erebor. It was dark outside and she figured it was all a bad dream, maybe she had a fever. Still as feverish as she may feel, her heart was pounding, her flesh laid covered in goosebumps as she was truthfully chilled to the core. The moon shone through her little window, illuminating her sweaty skin, as she laid in bed and counted her breaths. She counted them until the memories of the dream became more and more fuzzy and unclear. Then, her eyelids became heavy and she blinked a total of three times before slipping blindly into sleep once more, not minding the warm, familiar pulsing coming from her finger.
This time she didn't dream but she probably didn't sleep for very long either. When she awoke again, it was still dark outside, like no time had passed at all. Sigrid slowly sat up in her bed, her sheets rustled quietly. Her muscles ached like she'd been out running. Her memories were still blurry but... from what she could recall, she had a pretty vivid imagination. It must have been a dream... She dragged herself from the bed, feeling strangely hungry, like she was starving. Clumsily, she pulled her nightgown off and looked for some change of clothes.
She eventually settled on simple maroon dress, obviously not dwarfish as it reached down to her heels. Sluggishly, she tied the corset, it was of a rather easy fashion but everything seemed hard at this moment. She was hungry, tired and her limbs felt like mush. She heaved the door open, why was she so weak? Gasping for air, she loitered down the hall, trying to remember the way to the kitchens. Everything laid in shadows only dimly lit by torches. Even through the fire, she felt cold, she should have brought a blanket. Maybe she really had a fever. Sigrid's bare feet patted down the stone and eventually came upon the wide opening to the great hall. Night guards stood about and quietly conversed, mostly dwarves. They paid no mind to her as she tiptoed past them.
Her hands left her freezing arms as se found a pelt blanket, thrown on a chair. It didn't matter whose it was, she was borrowing it for now. Throwing the grey fur around her shoulders, she made her way down a steep staircase and finally came upon a door. The closer to food she got, the more starved she felt. Her stomach hurt and ached and her mouth was run dry. Why hadn't she eaten for so long? Had she even eaten at all? It wasn't like her to skip meals when she had the luxury of having her fill. Not having the energy to think too much about that, she pushed the door open with great difficulty. She had to throw her entire weight over it in order to get it opened.
Once it had a wide enough slit for her to fit through she made herself inside, her hungry eyes finding her goal. Someone had left a plate filled with biscuits on the countertop. She went over to the fridge and took out milk and jam. In mere milliseconds she was helping herself, her pelt slid down to the floor in her hurry to spread jelly over her crispy biscuits. She failed to notice the eyes trailed on her as she picked up her milk and snacks. She started to make her way to the table when she glanced up to see that it was occupied.
"As you can see, my insight is without question," the proud, curt voice broke into her fussed state of hunger and she almost dropped her food.
This was when she realised that her dream hadn't been a dream. She had felt that pain, she had laid on the bathroom floor, roasted in flames. The elven king had been there after all, his light and his scar. He'd talked to her, though she didn't now what he'd said exactly but... it was him! He saved her, he took her pain away. Her saviour... even still... she feared him. He glowed even now, not as blinding as before but he still shimmered with such tense energy. Lethal energy that would cut her if she came too close.
He looked... as kingly as he always did. A simple silver crown with jagged edges like thorns adored his head and his hair flowed loose but still controlled, in line with his appearance. He was seemed to be dressed in a black leather vest and trousers, with green markings spread over the sleeves and collar. A deep copper-coloured cloak was draped around his shoulders, much like the colour of his boots. He looked so elvish. The steel of his sheeted sword caught her eye and she was briefly taken back to the war. Sigrid realised she was just standing there, stupidly staring at the elven king with milk and cookies in her hands.
Her father sat by the elf's side, looking worried and uncomfortable at the same time. She was relieved to se that she wasn't alone with the imposing king. Still, she knew who she had to thank... she knew now, what a wolf in sheeps clothing this ring was. Trembling, she slowly placed her forgotten food on the table. Sigrid was scared yes, but she forced her feet forward and shakily kneeled at Thranduil's feet.
"Sire, my king... I-i thank you for saving me," she choked on the last word, her voice cracking as pathetic tears escaped her eyes.
Sigrid wasn't one to kneel for anything, but he had saved her life from eternal torture, it still so fresh in her mind. She focused her gaze on the stone floor as her fingers slowly traced the ring, she couldn't even twirl it... it was completely stuck.
"Do you know what this ring is?" she asked him, standing once more and gathering courage to meet his one blue eye, doing her best not to stare at his other clouded and white one.
His blind eye reminded her of the ashes of Dale, flying around in a frenzied storm. In the end, the evening stood late though not yet midnight. Sigrid sat with her pelts around her, still cold and hungry but she refused to eat at this moment. Her biscuits would have to wait.
"I take it you found it in Dale." Thranduil's voice cut out as he fixed his gaze on her.
"I... yes, yes i did."
She locked at the ring, it sat plastered around her finger. Her fingers looked too slender and her knuckles seemed strangely structured, like the skin around her bones sat too tight and too thin. She swallowed thickly and looked back up, meeting her father's mocha eyes. He looked older, more weary than before. She teared her gaze away and turned it towards the elf by his side.
"The ring is called CarnimÃrë or Red Jewel in westron. It is an heirloom of my family that went missing long before my father founded the Woodland realm. Sigrid eyes turned a fraction wider as she took in the information. She carried a royal heritage.
"I originally came here to reclaim it but... complications arose," he said tensely, his eyes never leaving hers.
She looked down in shame... it felt like everything was her fault, though she had no control over what had happened.
"But the ring is not supposed to act like that," Da said then, "From what you've told me, it could only see through illusions and heal wounds at best."
Bard leaned forward, leaning on his elbows as his eyes went back and forth between the elven king and his daughter. Sigrid realised they must have been seated here for quite some time, talking whilst she laid unconscious.
"I knew it was magical..." she nearly whispered out, trailing the fiery trinket with the tip of her finger.
"However, i can't get it off, it's stuck..." she continued, looking up at the men before her, "And when i tried... really tried, it-" Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, squeezing her eyes shut as the horrid memory flashed before her shut eyes. Swallowing once again, trying not to think too much of it.
"You are quite right... It has never reacted that way before, it doesn't even have any known offensive qualities... but there is always a reason for everything." Thranduil stood up then and Sigrid took in the fact that he was probably the tallest person she'd everseen... then again he was an elf.
"I shall ride to exchange words with another ring bearer, someone who will have the knowledge and experience of the nature of magic rings." He put on his dark gloves and briefly looked down at Sigrid. "I think it would wise for Lady Sigrid to come with me, in order to be properly examined by my kin. The ring seems to have bound itself to her, something we should be keenly aware of."
She sat glued to her chair, staring up at the king. She didn't know what to say to that other than to stiffly nod her head. Her father didn't stay quiet though.
"With all due respect, I cannot let your people just take her away. If that's the case then i should come with you, it is my daughter after all," he strongly stated, low but firm in his stance.
Discomfort started to churn in her stomach as she took in Thranduil's almost blank stare. A coldness creeped over his luminous features, like a chilled ice block.
"The ring is my property and you seem to forget who you are, bowman," the title was almost hissed out. "You are a leader now, not an overly emotional fisherman. Not only are you needed here by your people but also by your other children. To leave them now in this crisis would be beyond foolish."
"Do not lecture me on what i am most aware of and the ring may be yours but Sigrid is far from your property," her father bit out and she had rarely seen him so angry before, his face was all red.
It was like a storm was brewing between them and Thranduil gave him an askew smirk, a not so friendly one. Like the smile of a shark. "Oh but there is not much difference between the two. The ring sealed itself to her with elvish magic, which is why i must take her to my kin. Besides, we shall ride throughout the night with very little rest. We will not have time to adapt to your needs, my people are more durable when it comes to such journeys and that's that."
"If that's the case, then why would you take her with you, wouldn't she slow you down?" Da seethed quietly.
"I have already stated my reasons. The girl won't have her own horse to manage. I predict the ride will take about three days at most. We will follow the forest river and then onwards on the path to Rivendell. I have already sent word to Lord Elrond of our arrival." He had already made his decision it seemed.
Sigrid decided to jump in now because her father face just grew more and more sour. She rose from her seat and walked up the bowman. "Da, I know you are worried but i will be fine," she tried, putting her hand to his bearded cheek and the other to his arm. "We will need all the help we can get, we still know so little of this ring. Surely i would be worse off without King Thranduil's and his kin's input."
Her father seemed to calm down at that. He was a rational person, he really was... but his love for her may have gotten in the way of his otherwise clear-cut mindset.
"Eat, Sigrid... You'll need it." He placed his hand over hers and closed his eyes.
That's when she realised it was heavily bandaged, both his hands were... The realisation hit her like a train wreck. It was a low whine at first but later on, she stood bawling into her fathers arms. She'd hurt them... him and little Tilda. Their skin were burnt away because of her. Da let her ruin his shirt with her sobs, smothering the sound as he held her close and thus another realisation hit her. She didn't really want to leave him.
...
Tilda was asleep. Slumbering deeply and dreamless it seemed. At least she had that going for her... A pair of somber eyes traveled down to her bandaged hand and tears formed in them as a consequence. It was her fault, she knew that. The truth was a heavy burden, so heavy she thought she might break. How was she ever going to face her sister again? Tilda would be terrified of her, she would have nightmares about her... maybe it was relief to be taken away... They were to depart within the next ten minutes or so, riding fast towards Thranduil's halls where they would change horses and rest before setting out towards Rivendell. Sigrid would have been excited about the prospect of going out and about in the world. She would have, if the circumstances were different. Now she could only regret everything there is to regret. More bitter tears escaped her eyes and, shakily, she reached up and slowly wiped them away.
"It wasn't your fault, Sigrid..." Bain broke the silence as he sat by her side in his night clothes.
She'd accidentally roused him from his sleep as she was trying to bid him farewell. She figured it would be easier to say goodbye when they were asleep but her brother was a very light sleeper.
"It's that bloody ring and i'm glad they are doing something about it but i still don't understand why you have to go with the elves." It seemed he was not done talking. At least he whispered, which was appreciated.
"It's elvish magic, they are the best people i could hope for," she tiredly croaked back, she reached out her hand but did not dare to touch the slumbering figure.
Instead she merely adjusted her blanket as it had curved itself in a odd shape. Tilda did move around a lot in her sleep... Full of that childish energy, even in a slumbering state.
"Come, I don't want her to wake..." Sigrid whispered out as she looked away from Tilda's flushed and slackened face. She stood up and briefly tugged a little at Bain's shirt before he silently followed her out. They walked down the hallway and Sigrid hugged her cloak closer to herself even though she wasn't cold anymore. They walked in silence until they came upon the great hall.
"If anything happens... we will come for you, sis."
She turned to him with concealed surprise. It wasn't often Bain showed such emotions, not that he was cold hearted, he just tended to kept his more empathetic feelings private. He tried very hard to look like knight in that instant, puffing up his chest. She gave him a sad smile, she was going to miss him... but it won't be for that long, maybe some weeks at best.
"Take care of Da and Tilda for me. Don't worry brother, You will not have to come for my rescue, i can assure you of that." She hugged him tight, kissing his curly hair.
She tried not to cry more but it was hard when she later bid her father goodbye. She had hurt him too after all. So tears escaped once more as she hugged him, his bandaged hands holding her in his arms. As they walked out into the night, Sigrid couldn't help but facing the question of what she'd gotten herself into. She deeply regrets picking up the ring now. Looking around, she noticed the dwarves Fili and Kili and their kin, lined up like they were going to war. They stared hard at the elves who were already mounting their horses. The elven king stood, briefly speaking with his men before turning to her.
"Come," was all he said as he reached out his hand to her. This was when Kili noticed her.
"Wait, why is Lady Sigrid going with them?" he outrightly asked with wide, angry eyes.
His brother turned to him, looking just as confused, but for different reasons. "Have you been sleeping under a rock for the past hours? You know full well why."
"I have been out with the hunting party, we just got back half an hour ago and there's a bunch of elves running around. I thought he was merely here to speak with Bard!"
"Why didn't you tell me that you were going hunting!? I would have come with you," Fili cut back and the two dwarfs kept on bickering like the stubborn kind they were.
Sigrid heaved a sigh, Thranduil seemed to run out of patience as his jaw clenched with irritation. She quickly stepped forward and took his hand, it wasn't an easy thing to do. Shyness didn't even begin to describe it, though she didn't quite fear the elf anymore. She couldn't help but to stifle a gasp as his fingers closed in around her hand, it was swallowed up by his larger one. Her ring started to pulse rapidly again and she was petrified by the idea that she might go through that torment again. She bit her lip and kept her mouth shut, now was not the time to panic.
Hopefully, she could slip away without Kili noticing, he was sure to make a scene. Thranduil's hand clenched around hers and she would have felt pain if the numbness didn't creep all the way up to her elbow. It was a pleasant warmth but it didn't change the fact that the ring still felt cursed. She let herself be dragged away towards a horse, a large, dark animal that melted into the shadows. She was nervous.
"-but where are they taking her? Hey!" Kili took a step forward, like he was ready to run to her.
Her father put a hand on his shoulder before he could do anything though. "The elves are here to help her, it is for her own good," he told the prince, looking down at him with a grim expression.
Kili wasn't very happy with that, if anything he took it as something offensive. "What can they do that we cannot?" he exclaimed with bewildered look.
Her father said something in return but she couldn't hear it as large hands settled themselves on her waist. "Eeeh," was all she got out as she was lifted in the air and put on the massive horse. She was struck by how strong the elven king was, handling her like she weighted no more than a feather. She had never ridden before... after all, the Laketown people never had much use of horses as they did with their boats.
"I can't ride!" she frantically yelled, clutching the horse's mane as to not fall off. It was seemed so high up.
Thranduil didn't grace her with a response, instead he swiftly mounted the horse as well, taking the reins and effectively caging her in his arms. She tensed up from their close proximity, her cheeks burning as his hair grazed her nape. He seemed so... weightless but at the same time sturdy like a stone wall. The hard chest behind her indicated that much. She could hear voices rising around her, mostly the dwarves who were not done complaining about the elves presence.
Sigrid looked down in shame, she didn't want to meet anyone's eyes at this moment. She suddenly felt a hand draped over her waist and heat filled her up to the core. It was the ring's doing, it had never stopped with its relentless pulsing but... it seemed to be reacting strangely.
"Let men nor-" Thranduil's voice boomed out behind her, strict and commanding.
She didn't know what he'd said but had a fair guess as the elves around them started to ride hard and fast over the grass. She felt the horse move under her and panicked, she clutched Thranduil's arm around her waist, not really thinking too hard on the matter. His hand was only there to steady her after all. They were riding hard now, flying over the ground and her hair got itself loose. She tried to turn around, to look back but no matter how much she arched her body sideways, she could not see Erebor, neither her kin or the dwarves. The only thing she could make out in the dark was the rising, cloudy top of the lonely mountain. She gasped and yelped as they jumped over a log, passing the construction of Dale.
It was so fast, like they were soaring through the air. Her skirts flew around, looking ghostly in the night. She did her best not to make a fuss that may disturb the ancient behind her. Sigrid let out a breath and let go of his arm to grip the saddle beneath her. She leaned slightly back and looked up on the sky. She tried to think of merrier times, to pretend that she wasn't running straight into the troubled unknown. The stars gleamed down at her, shining just as brightly as the elf behind her. She tried to ignore the fact that she felt bare and vulnerable without her family by her side. She have to learn to stand on her own two feet... not that she couldn't or anything. She was just unstable on that front but just like at the war, she needed to find that independent part of herself. Or anything could happen.
Translations: "Let us ride".