Chapter 5

He never liked Elrond that much, his overly friendliness and habit of sticking his nose in places where it didn't belong, dried out his patience. Not that Thranduil had much of it in the first place. The fact that he was now forced to seek his... knowledge, left a foul taste in his mouth. He could've went to Lady Galadriel but he couldn't be bothered to ride that far and besides, chances were good that the Lady would be in Rivendell as well, seeing as she had a ludicrous fondness for the place. It was formidable yes, but not in Thranduil's tastes. But it was all worth the trouble of seeing his annoying kinsmen again. To think that he had after all this time, found the ring again, the ring that had slipped his mind. It seemed something was going his way.

Well, except for the fact that it had apparently seen it fit to tie itself to a mortal girl... Said girl was asleep, resting her head on his arm. He didn't like the intimacy but he had to remind himself that he was doing this for a very good reason. The ring had potential, it was something special... that much was obvious from the drama in Erebor. He had to keep it close, after all it was his family's property, therefore his. She twitched in her sleep, her head falling to the side and Thranduil thought she might wake but then the ring acted up again. It sends out heat waves, soothing ones that seemingly lulled her to sleep. It had an effect on him, he just couldn't figure out what that was exactly. He felt calm but not unfocused, warm but only mildly so. Pleasingly so.

He had to consider the worst possible scenario, that the ring couldn't be separated from her. Then what? He couldn't just hand her over to the Laketown people - soon to be the people of Dale. If the ring and the girl was one and the same then her place would be in the woodland realm, as undesirable it would be to have mere mortal there but then she would be much more than that. But that was only if the two couldn't be separated, he just had to hope for the best. She twitched again, mumbling in her sleep and he was relieved to see that they were nearing his kingdom. There they would rest and at dawn they would be on their way again. The girl would be dropped off at his guest chambers, carefully guarded of course.

...

She awoke with a silent scream, staring in alarm at the elf standing by her bed. She have had the nerve to kick her bed. The elleth had a platter of food in her hands. She had long brown hair, cascading down her chest with small blue flowers, attached to the locks. The blue matched her dress which reminded Sigrid of a flowing river. Even though she was beautiful, she couldn't help but feel angry at the female for her rudeness. She could have just kindly shook her little... not kick her bed. The bed actually moved a bit from the force, the elven strength never seized to amaze her.

Sigrid knew now where she had to be... The woodland realm, Thranduil's palace. It made sense from the fashion of the room, not too big but still beautiful. White walls, carved into the shape of trees and branches. The sun made the room glow, making her silken sheets gleam in a faint pink hue.

"When did we arrive here?" She sat up, trying to make sense of the fuzzy memories. All she could remember was riding in the night.

"Late last night. You must be ready within half an hour," the elf tonelessly said, putting the plate down on the writing table before exiting with a sneer.

"What did i ever do to her...," Sigrid mumbled to herself.

She didn't remember how she got here but she most likely just fell asleep and was dumped here when they arrived. She glanced out the window, noticing that it must be in the early hours, explaining why she still felt so tired. Her dress felt messy as she'd slept in it. She really needed a change of clothes. Dragging herself from the bed, she noticed her hips and thighs felt numb and stiff. Probably from riding for so long, the numbness which came from the ring, didn't take away her stiffness.

Sluggishly taking off her dress, she opened the closet to see a couple of elvish dresses. Her eye caught a dark green one, not as formal as the others and it looked fairly flexible. It even had a hood, perfect for traveling. She dressed quickly, it wasn't that thick so she dressed in her cloak as well. The dark shades of blue and green matching together. She quite liked it, though she needed to do something about her hair, it stood in knots. She brushed it out until it looked acceptable, then she put it away in a bun. Sigrid looked to the palette of fruits, salad, meat, cheese and bread. She picked up a glass of orange juice, taking a sip, she decided to eat quickly in case they needed to leave earlier. She was right in her assumption.

She was halfway through her meal when two elves barged in, dressed in their respective riding gear. She jumped, startled by their entrance and quickly swallowed the strawberry she had in her mouth.

"We need to leave now," one of the elves said, a handsome blonde one with brown eyes.

"I... i need to wash myself first..." she said, rising from the cushions.

"Don't take too long," the other elf answered, one with auburn hair and green eyes. He actually half-smiled at her and it gave her bit of relief.

"Of course..."

She lightly jogged to the bathroom, washing out her mouth with a bottle of elvish dental hygiene. Its strong taste of mint nearly burned her tongue. Later on, as she walked the halls with her escorts, she couldn't help but be struck with homesickness. These magnificent halls with their large windows and spotless, shimmering marble - was not her home. Truthfully, her true home was burnt to ground, now her home was strictly where her family was. She'd been away for only about a day and she already missed her family... Sigrid pulled her hood over her head, not standing the stares she got from the elves they passed by. She was led down a set of wide stairs and they suddenly came upon a big gate, adored and carved with thorns and leaves of a shining emerald.

The large doors opened and they entered a wide backyard, littered with horses and elves. The breeze whipped her hood from her face and she took in the forest looming before them. The trees closest to them looked healthy and young whilst those behind looked dead and rotten. They wouldn't ride through Mirkwood would they? Sigrid kept her eyes on the forest, it seemed as if something was moving in there, shadows creeping about. It was something dark, something malicious and malevolent. She could feel it, reaching out to her as if it meant to grasp her and take her away.

She took a step backwards, her eyes fixed on the dark trees, it was as if they were moving... Unrooting themselves and decaying the still healthy trees and slowly came towards her. She backed away further and slammed into a wall. Confused, she turned around, to see Thranduil staring down at her. She automatically recoiled at his scarred appearance before rapidly turned around to look back at the forest. It looked normal, nothing was moving, nothing was growing.

"What..." she stammered out, looking back at the King.

Sigrid moved away from him, she must look crazy. Had she really imagined it all?

"What did you see?" he suddenly asked, curt as he gripped her shoulder, leading her away through the horses.

His fingers dug into her dress and prickling her skin. She twisted away from him only to have his hand delve further into her lower back, his nails pointed like claws. A spike of pain suddenly ran up her waist and she yelped, holding her side. It seemed to come from nowhere, why would it hurt? She had the ring on her, it shouldn't hurt at all. His fingers dug into her some more, obviously spurred on by her distress. A tear escaped her eye as she glanced up at him with a hurt look, an angry frown on her red face.

"You will tell me soon enough then, Bardsdottir," he hissed in her ear, before pushing her towards the black horse she'd sat upon previously.

She put her hands on the horse, wishing it could go away so she could run from this place. Her feet left the ground as she was lifted into the air by his hands, holding her waist like it was but air. She held back a gasp as he then threw her up on the horse, she clutched the mane and bit her lip. She didn't feel any pain from her lower lip now so why did she feel pain before? It didn't make sense. She barely noticed as he mounted up behind her. Just like before he put his hand around her waist, keeping her in place before they set off, following the forest river.

Their party rode much faster now and Sigrid could hardly keep herself still. She flew with the horse's strong movements, trying to keep her hands locked in his mane. She would've fallen off if she hadn't been plastered to Thranduil's side. There were about twenty men, all traveling at high speed along the river, dodging trees like they were mere flies. She dozed off from time to time, she really didn't have anything better to do. When she was awake, she could only think back to when her ring seemingly malfunctioned. She thought she wasn't as afraid of the elven king as before but now, that fear came creeping back to her from the earlier events. She blinked and noticed that the scenery had changed, now the sun stood high on the sky and they were passing the river Anduin with the Mirkwood forest on their other side.

She could remember the landmarks well from the old maps her father kept around the house, maps that had once belonged to her grandfather. Sigrid barely glanced at the cursed forest, she didn't want to relive that experience any time soon. She had to focus her eyes on the blue skies lest they wander off. Somewhere in the afternoon, the horses came to a stop. They had just crossed Anduin via the stone bridge and the company was dismounting and digging around in their respective bags and pouches. Finally, she could stretch her legs, if she could feel them. Just like in the morning, numbness reached down her thighs and legs, along with a unpleasant stiffness. She winced as Thranduil dismounted behind her.

"We will rest for about 20 minutes so don't wander off," he said, leading the horse to the edge of the still river.

She frantically gripped the saddle as the horse bent down for a drink, it didn't stop her from falling though. The fact that she couldn't feel much of her legs along with the absence of Thranduil's body to lean on, left her to fall to the side with a choked gasp. A hand grasped her thigh before she could fall off the horse and swung her back up. Thranduil looked annoyed at her juvenile inexperience and with a raised brow, he placed an arm around her and carried her down from the big animal. Her ring pulsed rapidly in response to his touch and Sigrid clenched her fist, trying to hide the fact that the red shone brighter than before.

"Can you stand?" he asked as he slowly let go of her small form, only coming up to just below his chest.

"I'm not sure," she responded.

She was holding on to him for more than a little support and when she forced herself to let him go, she only lasted a second before stumbling to the ground, holding her hip. Sigrid bit her cheek and meekly stared up at Thranduil, standing tall over her slumped figure. He seemed to hiss something in elvish before bending down and picking her up. Probably some ancient curse word. The ring heated up again as he threw her over his shoulder and Sigrid bit back an insult. He didn't have the right to treat her like a sack of potatoes. He brought a bag with him, hanging from the horse's saddle and wandered away towards a rock.

"You will rest here until your strength has returned." He sat her down so she was leaning against the rock and put the sack in her arms. "Maybe then you will feel strong enough to tell me what you saw earlier in Mirkwood." He gave her a crooked, taut sneer as he bent down and loosened her hair from it's bun.

She sat frozen and stared at him with an absurd look on her face. Why did he do that? She tried to keep her eyes on anything other than his scar but it was hard when he was so close to her. "I-I can tell you now," she started, taking a deep breath. "The trees were rotting... Decomposing and infecting the still healthy ones. It's hard to describe... It looked like they were moving towards me and... I just had this terrible feeling," she hoarsely whispered out, growing more and more anxious.

He stared, fixed at her face, at times she thought his gaze wandered down to her mouth but it could have been a trick of the light. Her lips was torn from her biting too much on them so it must be an ugly sight. Sigrid, felt her cheeks burn and looked away from the elf, trying to hide her mouth behind her hair.

"It's nothing right?" she tried, glancing up at him.

"It's the ring, letting you see the manifestation of darkness, you need to tell me henceforth if you see anything more," he said in one breath, looking between her and the ring on her finger.

He stood up then and turned around. He'd just managed to walk a few feet away from her when she couldn't help herself. "What happened to your face?"

He stopped and stood still like a statue. Then he slowly turned around to her, only his scarred side visible.

"I never considered the fact that you may see it, i hide it with an elvish illusion. Once we get to Rivendell, you will learn how to accept or dispel illusions at will, what you're doing right now is peeking under them. It seems as if you are doing so automatically, something that will be corrected as well."

She blinked and nodded and then watched as he turned around and disappeared amongst the horses. He had completely dodged her question. ... In the little bag, she found Lembas bread and water. The Lembas tasted sweet in her mouth. She had eaten it before as it was one of the many provisions the elves brought with them to Dale when they'd just sought refuge i the ruins. One bite was enough but she settled with two as it was just that good. Drinking some of the water, she could feel her legs coming back to life again, the Lembas doing its magic. They still felt a bit stiff but they weren't numb anymore, which means that they didn't hurt no more. After all, numbness meant pain, pain she couldn't feel.

Sigrid took in the splendour that was the misty mountains, towering up in the distance. She couldn't make out the top of mountain range for it stood covered in the famous mist that gleamed as the last bit of the sun rays peeked out behind it. Looking behind her, she could see a small forest, big enough to hide in. A good spot for her to relieve herself. Leaving behind the bag, she slowly rose up, testing her legs. They seemed to work fine and with that she stepped into the forest, looking for some privacy. It was thick with bushes and trees which shrouded her from sight. She walked deeper into the forest, trying not to step on any lose stones.

After doing her business, she began to make her way back. She'd spied a hand sanitiser somewhere in that bag... So Sigrid made her way in peace until a branch snapped ahead of her. She looked up to see a man stepping out behind a tree. A tall, bald one, she wouldn't call him fat but he did have noticeable shapes. He was dressed in dark cloth and leather and her head whipped around as leaves rustled behind her. Another man, smaller, hiding in a cloak with blue eyes peeking out. She looked between the two, an uneasy dread creeped up her spine, did they want trouble?

"Are you lost?" she cautiously asked.

They weren't lost. No, they were right were they wanted to be. She took a step back as they both closed in on her. Then they went into full on sprint, coming towards her from two sides. She hauled herself backwards, falling into a bush. Clumsily she got to her feet but a foot placed itself upon her back and she was headfirst into the ground. A scream wrenched itself free from her throat and it seemed to echo around the trees. She kept on her yelling until a hand pressed down on her lips, holding her jaw like they meant to break it. The elves must have heard her, they must have, she didn't wander that far.

"I say we cut off her fingers now, those elves will be upon us soon," a gruff voice said above her, probably the owner of the smelly hand over her mouth.

"Ye right, they said they wanted the ring, not the girl," The cloaked man standing by her head answered.

Tears clouded her eyes and she felt as if she might vomit. She froze up in fright, sobbing into the imposing hand. Her heart pounded in her eardrums and cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She could hardly think straight from the searing panic and as the cloaked man grabbed her hand, the one with the ring on, something snapped. She bit down on the hand, the stinky flesh made her want to recoil but instead she clamped down until the man screamed in pain. She tasted copper in her mouth and... something else. Spitting it out she realised she'd just severed his thumb and for that she received a blow to her head. She laid in the dirt, her ears ringing and her gaze blurry.

The men shouted something and as she felt something touch her hand again, a heated wave came over her. Sigrid had once again a hole in her chest, a cavern built into her ribcage. It wasn't empty though. Some warm mass churned and swirled around in her and it bolted through her bloodstream. Her being pulsed. Now one of the men screamed a bloodcurdling shriek as he stapled away from her. Sigrid weakly glanced at her arm to the red marks, swaying like flames, were once more covering her skin. The foot at her back had left her, no one was touching her anymore.

She slowly rose up to see the cloaked man writhing on the ground, holding his hand. His companion was much the same, crying as he stared at his burned-through foot. The smell of burnt flesh reached her nostrils and she had to get away, she had to run from here or she would surely puke. Sigrid stumbled to her feet and dashed through the bushes and trees. Her body numbed with warmth as she sprinted away, much like on the battlefield. She didn't know how far she managed to flee before she fell to her knees and puked in a nearby flowerbed. Throwing up had always been one of the worst possible things in life, at least it always felt like that when she was in the middle of the act. Wiping her mouth she strived to get as far away from her vomit as physically possible. The smell of burnt flesh, the deranged sound of their screams and the taste of flesh in her mouth, stood still fresh in her memories, she figured she could outrun it all. And so she did, or tried to at least.

She ran, twigs clawing at her skin and hair, her feet jumping and landing without feeling and in the end she found herself out of the little forest and into the open. A great landscape of grass and rocks, spread out before her. In the distance, the river Anduin flowed by but she didn't see the stone bridge. She couldn't be that far. Her knees gave away and she sat down in the dirtied grass. Taking a look at her hands, she deduced that her skin still glowed with red. Trembling, she hugged herself because there was no Da here to do it for her. Caving into herself, she cried, cursing everything from her own stupidity to the sky above her head. She sniffed feeling the warmth quietly, rather suddenly - leaking out of her, like a rising smoke, washing her away almost. It was like a river flowed in her, taking the hardships away, taking the numbness away... But pain never came in its place.

Sigrid opened her eyes, not so sure when she'd closed them. She looked down on her hands, the red marks faded away, sinking into her skin and leaving behind unharmed skin. Sigrid was pretty darn sure she had gotten away with cuts on them. She had received a hard blow to her head as well but she couldn't feel any aftermath of it, nothing of that expected numbness. It was like it hadn't happened. Her limbs didn't even feel any tire from running around like a wild deer either. Sigrid sat there and decided that she would not move. The elves cannot be far behind, they'll find her eventually. So she stayed put until then. She was much too shaken and tired to be confused at the moment. Slowly, she focused on her breathing and tried to distance herself from the situation as much as possible.

...

He stared at the yellowed paper one of the men have had on them. It was obviously written in black speech. Needless to say, Thranduil hadn't cared much for educating himself on the language, luckily Lord Elrond could probably unveil its message. Once his party realised that Sigrid was missing their search began just as the two men screamed from the woods. How fitting. Their burns matched the ones Sigrid had given back in Erebor and it didn't take much to put two and two together. She had obviously been attacked. He left some of his men to interrogate the captives whilst he himself lead on the rest to look for the wretched girl. It didn't take long to find her curled into a pathetic ball by the end of the forest. She was obviously quite shaken and he could see several trails of tears on her damp cheeks.

"Are you done crying?"

The girl snapped her head to him. Stepping down from his horse, he lead it towards her. Sigrid shakily stood up, fixing him with what looked like a glare.

"They tried to kill me," she heaved out almost accusingly.

"Well, you're not dead are you? Besides, chances are good they wanted to take your ring and not your life." He raised an eyebrow and took ahold of her arm, strangely enough, he felt her relax against him.

"If only you would have obeyed me none of this would've happened," he said in her ear as he helped her up one the horse.

She looked like she wanted to retort but instead kept her silence, bowing her head, probably to hide her bloodshot eyes. Good girl. In truth, he was bloody annoyed at her antics, she wouldn't have to go through this if she'd just stayed where she was. His thoughts were interrupted by the the stomping of hooves, galloping closer as the rest of his men returned.

"My king, we have interrogated the men and deposed of them," one of his captains said as his horse strolled to a halt. Thranduil fixed the man with a expectant look as he adjusted his gloves. "They've had orders to receive the ring and bring it back to Gundaband. It's probably more detailed in the note we found," the elf said in one breath.

"Most likely. We shall ride on until we reach Rivendell, no breaks," was his only answer as he mounted up behind the sullen Sigrid.

She twitched at his touch but stayed put with her head leaning on his chest. He found himself not as bothered by the proximity as much as before but that didn't make the child any less annoying.