Chapter 8
She was seated in one of the many gardens of Rivendell. She'd just had breakfast, brought to her on a platter by an unnamed elleth. Sigrid had asked for her name, politely in hopes for a conversation but it would seem that ellleth couldn't speak Westron very well. The elf had just shook her head with a strained smile before taking her leave. Oh well, at least she didn't seem all too uncomfortable in her presence. The gardens of Rivendell were nothing short of astounding and even though it was autumn, she didn't freeze that much.
The dress she had don was a white one, soft and thick. Long sleeved with a modest v-shaped neckline. Tied around her waist was a light-blue silken cloth, acting as a broad belt. Luckily it was fitting for someone of human stature, seeing as the lord of Rivendell knew she would arrive. She was happy that they'd already prepared a room for her and the dress hugged her figure nicely and if one looked closely, they would see small flowers and thorns decorate the silk. At this moment, she was quite smitten, if not mesmerised by the scenery around her, it was never not beautiful.
The trees looked like flames, changing from red to orange depending on where the sun shone from. The mossy, leaf-filled ground laid decorated with small ponds and rivers, circled by shiny white stones. The flowerbeds and berries still laid in bloom, though they would dwindle away in maybe a months time. Sigrid herself sat under the ornamented glass roof of an octagon stone gazebo. It was framed by see-through white curtains that hardly even moved in the wind. She felt calm and rather collected, considering the times.
Sigrid fought back a yawn, grimacing slightly. She hadn't slept well, hardly at all after her... nightly visit. When she wasn't crying she was obsessing over all kinds of possible future scenarios that hadn't happened yet. She was terribly afraid and she knew she was completely alone in this. She couldn't tell anyone, as soon as she even thought about it, her tongue seemed to tie itself in knots, dried out, like she hadn't had a drink for days. Sigrid contemplated the matter, the matter of her own enslavement. If she ever became free from this curse, she would scream out the things she couldn't say, loud enough for everyone to hear.
In that moment a new elf seemed to pop up out of nowhere, almost scaring her half to death. This elleth had long blonde hair that seemed to melt in with her honey-coloured dress. Her brown eyes looked rather soft and approachable and she actually smiled at her. Sigrid was about to greet her when the elf stopped before her, curtsying deeply.
"Your Highness, my name is Himien Hwinnorion. Lady Galadriel sent me to escort you."
She could only stare in bewilderment. Surely the elleth couldn't mean her? "Highness...?" she inquired.
The elf looked at her with a small smile, like she'd been expecting that reaction.
"Even if your father hasn't been crowned yet, i see no reason to be thrifty with the titles. Is it not exiting to become princess?"
Sigrid tried to mask her surprise. "I didn't know words of my father's situation had reached so far... You needn't be so formal with me just yet though and to be honest, i'm rather skittish about the whole ordeal."
She rose from her seat, nervously turning touching her ring. An easy-going smile was in due and she made sure to make the elleth feel at ease even though she herself did not.
"Oh, that is only normal when such a huge honour is bestowed upon one. Would you like me to do something about your hair before we leave?"
"Is it that terrible?" Sigrid asked, nervously tugging on some loose locks.
She'd put it up in her usual bun, not anything major. certainly not anything that would be normally seen in elvish lands. Apparently she may look much too mortal and plain for the elleth tastes. Said elleth just laughed at her and shook her head.
"You don't have to answer that," Sigrid said and stood up from her chair. "Feel free to do what you want."
...
The elf had lead her back towards her chambers. She sat her down by the dressing table and excessively started to run a brush through her hair. Her fingers were quick and skilled for she had probably done this a thousands times over. In the end, her hair laid loose without its knots and weird shapes. It spiralled down in gentle ringlets, not even a little bit unruly and they even looked straighter and more tamed than usual. Her upper bangs were drawn back and fastened at the back of her head with a silver leaf. As the elleth carefully covered her ears with the remaining bangs and long strands, Sigrid became all the more aware of how she surely was aiming to make this mortal look more elf-like.
Lady Galadriel commented on this later on, when Himien had left her to the lady's care in yet another garden. This one was more open but still shrouded with leaves and high trees. It looked greener here as well, like everything still stood in full bloom, like it was summer.
"Himien is known for being skilled with her hands, she did a splendid work on you."
The lady herself wore a light green dress with small white pearls stitched into it. It caught the light of the sun just like the golden strands of her hair. She seemed almost god-like.
"Thank you my lady." That was all she could come up with as she looked down on her hands, intently focusing on the ring.
"Is there something troubling you my child? You look weary, didn't you sleep well?"
An excuse came to her automatically and she felt her frustration grow as she couldn't tell the elf a single thing.
"I'm just worried about the ring... King Thranduil said that you could help me maybe?" She bit her lip and hesitantly met the lady's blue eyes.
They seemed deeper than usual, like a long heavenly spiral of the clearest sapphires. When she spoke next, her tune had changed slightly. Lower, controlled and almost secretive, like she knew something.
"The best help i can offer you is knowledge and guidance. There are certain aspects of the ring you'll need to know about. However, before we'll go into any of that, there are certain enchantments i need to perform on you, cutting you off from the ring's hold is our primary goal at the moment."
Galadriel gave her a smile as her hands traveled over the long, stone table to take her own. Her fingers were warm and soft like cotton as they ran over her ring. The blazing light from Nenya nearly blinded her and she rapidly blinked away the small tears that came forth from the shock.
"Enchantments? Will it hurt?" Sigrid inquired, her eyebrows creasing themselves in worry.
"Hopefully not, i'll tend to avoid such things but i can't promise anything," the lady answered.
She swallowed thickly and averted her eyes from Galadriel's sapphire ones to her ringed finger. "Alright then, do what you will."
What followed was subtle, quiet and calm. Galadriel enclosed her small hands in her own, bigger and more elegant ones. The ring seemed appeased at first, barely pulsing and moving about, like a pacified sea. Then her whole hand seemed to shimmer, as if glittering pearls resided right under her skin. It was faint enough but it was still there and it made the red light from her ring dull down somewhat. With each passing second, she could feel her ring getting slightly cooler and thus it flowed through her whole hand. As she looked up to study Galadriel's expression, she was once more struck by her sheer beauty. Her eyes were closed but her lips seemed to form soundless words, as if she was repeating something in her head. She couldn't hear anything other than faint whispers that seemed to move with the wind, flowing around them in a subtle and placid ambiance. Inaudible and foreign and probably very ancient.
Though as Sigrid saw something move in the corner of her eye, she went on to catch the stare of someone. Standing by a shrouded opening in the garden was Thranduil. He stood out amongst the green scenery with his dark blue tunic, decorated with small silverly shapes in line with an ornamented belt hanging by his hips. The tunic reached down to the middle of his thighs and up it went, covering his neck. His high boots matched the colour scheme perfectly except for his breaches and overcoat which were black, all though, not without the small decorations of silverly symbols. The sunlight shifted slightly over the top of his head as he stepped over to the more shadowed part of the garden.
Their eyes had met and she found it hard to tear her gaze away. Memories from last night flooded her mind, unwelcomed and intruding. His eyes narrowed and he fixed her with not quite a glare but rather, a stare made of steel. She knew what he wanted and she held her head high, she hadn't disobeyed him yet even if he didn't quite know that. Yet, for some reason, as she observed his elvish features, she couldn't help but catch a hint of... hard-fought bitterness maybe? Some sort of resentfulness? Whatever it was, it couldn't be directed towards her, after all, she had not done anything out of place. She didn't get to elaborate on that thought for something washed over her hand. It stung and twitched as red marks appeared and started to climb up her elbow.
She automatically flinched and reared back in frightened alarm. Galadriel held onto her hand though as if to reassure her but it didn't feel right. Her grip was too strong and her fingers dug way too deep into her skin. It was uncomfortable but Sigrid couldn't do anything, she seemed to have lost her voice. Then slowly but surely, the red marks shimmered and dissolved. Little by little, the high elf released her hands and she felt as if she could breathe again. Sigrid was hoping beyond hope that she hadn't accidentaly burnt the lady Galadriel. She didn't look troubled though, instead she merely smiled at her, a strained one maybe, full of seriousness.
"Your ring puts up a fight, this will not be as easy i would have hoped. In all fairness, i have doubts i will succeed. The ring's enchantments are old and powerful, it has taken root within your body and soul itself. If it's hard for me to even grasp at its bonds the first time, it won't be much easier the second time."
"But... It cannot be stuck on me forever can it? I'm a mortal after all, what will happen with it once i die?" she blurted out, a bile rising in her throat at the possibility of spending a lifetime with this cursed thing on her finger.
In her gut, she could feel herself becoming all the more stressful, the worst outcome could very well be the reality.
"I do not have the answer to that just yet but i will have soon enough, do not embrace the worst of scenarios now. It is not hopeless, not yet at the very least." Galadriel's voice sounded soft and soothing but it did little to ease her unrest, though it did seem as if she had read her mind like a book.
Her starry eyes kept her own dull eyes in a steady grip, before she turned her gaze to the side. "My apologies for not greeting you sooner, King Thranduil. Have you come here to merely observe or is there something you wish to say?" the lady said to the elf, whom she by all means shouldn't have known to be there.
She hadn't even turned around to look in his direction. It seemed Sigrid was the only one surprised at this but she really shouldn't be. Elves were known to have outstanding hearing and sensory capabilities.
"I was just passing by, I take it your progress has been fruitless so far?" Thranduil responded rather bluntly as he came closer to the seated females.
"A very insightful presumption, though we have hardly started yet. Take a seat."
And such, the remaining forenoon was spent repeating the same process but under Thranduil's watchful eye. He sat at the far end of the long table, he rarely spoke under Galadriel's work. After four more attempts, with the very same outcome as the first one, the high elf looked nearly stumped. Though, she seemed all the more lost in deep thoughts. Not even once did the ring bring any real harm to her but Galadriel knew a looming threat when she felt one.
The lady of Galadhrim, old as she was, felt the need to settle down somewhere quiet, in solitude to go over the newly revealed revelations. One glaring matter was the ring and the fact that it was now, undeniably a part of Sigrid Bardsdottir. Galadriel felt it in her bones, in the depths of her soul... The two couldn't be unlinked by her powers. If she couldn't do it, then the number of possible candidates shrunk down to none and she doubted the Valar would lend their aid, difficult to contact as they were. Besides Little Sigrid could meet her demise if they were severed now, with how much the ring was currently feeding on her energy. Maybe if Sigrid had been brought to her attention sooner, she could have done something... But now, as the ring has had plenty of time to bind and connect itself to the child's soul and body, plenty of weeks probably, it sure looked bleak.
Galadriel probably could seperate the two of them, but not without any harm or trauma befalling Sigrid, even a painful death was not unlikely, instead, it was actually very likely indeed. Another deeply concerning matter was the strange energy that seemed to flow from the ring to Thranduil. Even if it was attached to Sigrid, it still seemed to gravitate towards the Elvenking, as if it was linked to two people at once. That fact opened doors to even more possibilities and she could imagine that it left Sigrid in quite the vulnerable situation. What if the king could manipulate the ring's powers? What of Sigrid then?
Galadriel sighed as she met the child's confused eyes. She was much too young to go through something like this, her whole essence bled out rivers of anxiety and the lady of light took pity on her fragile soul. She was innocent and truth to be told, her inner, rather closed-off maternal side reared its head at her helplessness. She cared about the child and her frail little face seemed as if it was on the brink of a meltdown, like she would crumble at any moment. It all briefly took her back to when her own Celebrían had been but a youngling. Of course, this sensitivity and emotion was only increased by the ring's influence. At least according to the legend, the mighty Valar Nienna was to blame.
Galadriel was old enough to know the Valar's magic when she encountered it and the notion that it could be written of as a mere legend was now very much false. It was the reality of situation that Sigrid had been touched by the divine.
"It seems that I won't come much longer on this frontier, I'm afraid I must leave you now little Sigrid for I have much to ponder about. I would very much like it if you read up on information about your ring in the meantime, it is only healthy for you to stay informed. Thranduil, I'm sure you remember the way to the library, yes? I hope you would not mind escorting Sigrid there?" the lady of light said as she turned her head in the Elvenking's direction, smooth as silk. "You need only inform the librarians of what you're looking for and they will provide you with what you need."
The only visible reaction that came from Thranduil was the nod of his head as he briefly closed his eyes. Sigrid tried not to let her utter discomfort show as her gaze flickered between the two.
"When can i see you again, my lady?" she asked, biting her lip and hoping for the best.
The elleth rose from her seat and both Thranduil and Sigrid followed suit.
"When i'm available, my child," Galadriel answered as she came over to said child and placed a hand on her back, leading her over to Thranduil, who observed the two almost intently. "I do believe most of the documents in the library are written in elvish or in tengwar as we call it. Luckily you will have the king with you as a translator."
"Documents? How many do you suspect there is?" Thranduil suddenly cut in, his eyes a tad bit narrowed.
"Not many since very little is know about Carnimírë, i believe you must know this as well. It could only be about two scrolls," the lady of light said, her gaze trailing over the garden as if she was still deep in thought.
"I suspected as much," Thranduil concluded as his eyes traveled over Sigrid's lithe figure, where she stood inspecting her hands.
"Sigrid," He suddenly said, causing the girl to snap her head up. He raised his eyebrows in a rather direct manner. "Let's go."
And so, the girl bid the lady farewell as she followed the Elvenking. They weren't going the same way she'd came from, she realised. Instead the walked down the path of where she'd first seen Thranduil, in that shrouded opening. With each step he took, the leaves and grass made a crunching noise in complain. His pallid hair spilled out over his broad shoulders like milk. It stood out like a lighthouse in the green and blue scenery. They passed large trees and flowery bushes as the wildlife framed their path and blocked out the pale sun from time to time. Were they not just going deeper into the Garden at this point?
"Are you really taking me to the library?" Sigrid almost hesitantly asked out.
"Do you take me for a kidnapper?" was his only respond, his voice low but not indicating that he'd taken any offensive. She turned her head, wondering if Galadriel was still there but she could hardly make out the white table, or even the glade anymore.
"No," she said once she looked back at him, still finding her stubborn and stupid courage even if the elf-lady wasn't there to protect her anymore. "I take you for a sadist."
He halted in his steps and slowly swung around. The look on his face was nothing short of bewildered, just on the edge of affronted. He did not look outraged though but still, he really had no idea? Sigrid felt caught off guard as his piercing gaze zeroed in on her. She forced her feet to remain locked on the ground, to be still as he stalked up to her, staring her down.
"Please do explain your reasoning," he said.
She looked up at him and held her stance. "You seem to take pleasure out of other people's suffering."
He smiled at her, a slow, creeping one. Like she was nothing but a little girl, whom he was about to correct.
"When you say other people, you must mean yourself, don't you? Maybe you just need to grow a thicker skin, to adapt to your situation. I'm just realistic and this realism is of course disturbing to you, enough so that you may view it as something sadistic. Everything I've done and all I'm after is for the betterment of my own people. Really Sigrid, you should stop being weak and childish, all you ever do is whine and doubt yourself. Maybe if you decided to grow up, then i could treat as the adult you so favourable view yourself as but i'm afraid it would take years upon years."
Her mouth stood open and gaping like a fish out of water. Sigrid did not know what to say to that. To even articulate a good answer was hard enough in her head and his every word stung like an assault of angry bees. She didn't call him sadistic because of his blunt way of stating the truth, she wasn't so weak that the reality would need to be sugarcoated before her eyes. She wasn't naive or ignorant, she thought she had been through enough of trauma this past month to grow and mature in good faith. She had never ever been especially immature anyway. The only thing she had done here was to comment on his obvious malevolent side and he had only made himself look worse.
His insult sank deep into her bones and in frustration she could feel the beginnings of a faint redness creep over her cheeks. White teeth clamped down on her bottom lip and she stared up at him, mad for every eye to see. Their little talk ended there. She walked in silence behind him as he lead the way through the garden. They passed over a stone bridge with countless small rivers passing under it, coming together and forming a bigger more impressive form of running water. As they walked, the green life became less and less until they were treading upon a stone yard.
There, they came upon an opening, an entrance into the hallways of Rivendell. Clean and elegant as they were, inviting in the soft candle light (for there were not many windows in here) Sigrid could still not relax for it felt like he was leading her farther and farther away from civilization. She had yet to see a single elf. They took stairwell after stairwell down into what felt like tunnels. At the end of it all, they came upon a large, oval shaped room, tremendous in its splendour and size. White and shiny bookshelves stood lined up and seemed to grow like trees from the ivory floor. Candles and blue lanterns hung everywhere from the walls to the ceiling. Small rivers of water ran down from the walls from some sort of hole in the stone structure. They collected in the respective lithe fountains, hanging by the walls, decorated with flowers and pearls. She may have just found her favourite place.
Here there dwelled only two elves. A male and a female, seemingly related due to their strikingly similar appearances. Long, braided auburn hair with bright blue eyes. They bowed respectfully when they caught the sight of the elvenking. He said something in elvish to them and with no breath to spare, they were off to do whatever they were told. Sigrid, who didn't quite know what do with herself, promptly avoided Thranduil's eyes and went over to one of the many long tables scattered around the gigantic room. Of course he followed her. Gods forbid that she may be left alone for a second.
They both took their seat at the opposite end of the table, facing each other. She leaned back in her cushioned seat, her eyes focusing on the engraved wooden table. It had patterns in all sorts of twirling shapes, they looked much like thorns. For being underground, the library was well lit-up by both the blue lanterns and the normal candlelights that lined the tables. It all gave her a sense of comfort. They both sat in silence for only a few seconds, though it felt longer for she could practically feel his eyes on her. Sigrid stifled a sigh as she looked up to meet his gaze.
"Is it not awfully rude to stare, sire?"
He merely raised his brows in a rather unimpressed manner.
"Am i making you uncomfortable?"
She nonchalantly looked away. "No, not particularly."
He leaned back and crossed his legs, fixing her with a stare that could almost be called a glare.
"It is a great offence to lie to a king, didn't your father teach you that?"
She gave him a small smile, not a sincere one by any stretch of the imagination. However, for some reason she felt more daring, like she was testing out the waters.
"No, he taught me much more useful things. Besides, you are no king of mine."
His face remained motionless, lest for a slight tick of his eyebrow and a barely noticeable curl of his lip. It was unnatural... it reminded her of some sort of serpent or lizard, doing a poor job on mimicking human behaviour (or in this case elvish behaviour). She did know that elves tended to express themselves in different ways compared to most other beings, they are not known for being that emotional. This, however was over the top... Thranduil had mastered the art of the stone face, cold blooded psychopath.
"What makes you say that, Sigrid?"
She shivered at the way he said her name, it was like it started with a hiss and ended with a growl. Subtle though but still there, like a warning, a little red light. His face stayed the same though. Aloof, cold, smug and fabricated at the same time.
"Well I belong to another kingdom don't i? Besides, the Laketown people were never your subjects either way," she answered, straightening her back and thanking the gods for the sturdy table between them.
The scar on his face twitched as he scoffed at her, his teeth seemed sharper but she knew for a fact that elves did not have fangs.
"So you are still under the impression that i will simply let you go after all this? How naive. If the ring can't be separated from you -an outcome that seems more and more realistic by the hour- Then there is no difference between the two of you. The ring belongs to me, it even obeys my commands. You are only its vessel, its host. This is a fact you will simply have to live with and you have no one else to blame but yourself." His tune stayed low and balanced as he spoke.
He had changed his position and sat now tilted over the table, leaning on his elbows and clasping his hands. She felt like someone had dropped a stone in her stomach, keeping her still and in place.
"Mark my words, little Sigrid, the moment you slid that ring on, you sealed your fate. Just like the ring, you yourself also belongs to me now and I tend to keep my possessions close. After all, everything i own is in woodland realm."
She wouldn't cry, she refused to, but it was hard when his words sneaked up under her skin like little ants. Passing through her ears like poison and repeating themselves like an ominous echo in her skull. It couldn't be true, it just could not be. She would never leave her family and her family would certainly not stand for this. They would never allow it and she is pretty sure, Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond couldn't endorse such a thing either. One thing is for sure, her father would wage war for her and surely Kili and even Fili, the soon-to-be crowned king of Erebor wouldn't leave her hanging either.
These conclusions calmed her somewhat but it still left her shaky, her eyes stung with unshed tears. Anything could happen and her doubts still refused to go away.
"That will never work out," she got out with a hoarse and tense voice.
To her relief, he never grazed her with a response for the two elves from earlier came back. They dropped off merely two pair of yellowed documents, tied together with a darkened ribbon. It was filled with elvish writing and a few painted pictures. It would seem that they didn't have anything in Westron after all... She wanted to make her distress known to them, the consequences be damned, but she didn't get the opportunity as they quickly walked away. The two elves exited the library and closed the doors behind them. She didn't like that at all.
"Where are they going?" She swallowed thickly, nearly not getting the words out.
"Somewhere else, i told them to leave us alone earlier," Thranduil answered absentmindedly as he looked through the documents.
"Why?" she nearly demanded, not keen on being alone with him for any second longer.
Sigrid made to stand up but as she'd gotten halfway up from her chair, her ring acted up. It sent her a wave of spiked heat, like some electric shock. It was clear what it wanted and on their own accord, her knees bent and she sat down again. Instead of looking to her trinket, her eyes snapped up to him. She knew it was his doing. The elvenking himself only smirked at her, albeit a bit sternly.
"I did not allow you to leave now, did i?"
She opened her mouth but only got out a crestfallen puff, her eyes wide like a pair of eggs. He stood up and strode over to her seated form, taking a seat at her right.
"As your King, i see it as my duty to correct your childish and misbehaving antics. If you want to be taken seriously, i suggest you do as i say. Willingly, without me having to abuse the ring's influence. Believe it or not but It's primary function isn't to be a mere slave."
She tried to steer her thoughts onto anything else but the fact that he was way too close to her. The documents barely made a sound as he put them down one the table in front of her.
"What other functions would it have then? I certainly haven't noticed anything other than blind obedience." she said, her jaw clenched.
"Well we're here to correct that aren't we? Now what do you know about the Valar?"
She was briefly taken aback by his blunt question but tried to make as much sense as she could, she needed to be honest.
"I don't know much about them... Many of my people see them as myths and legends, although i know of the greater human kingdoms who are more religious in their belief of them. But i know they stand as the gods of our world."
He raised his eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You don't think of them as myths do you?" He sounded quite judgmental.
She quickly shook her head. "Lady Galadriel spoke of them as if they were real so..."
"Well they most certainly are, they reside far away in a place called Valinor. They can pretty much act as the gods of this world but all of Arda as well as the Valar themselves were created by the being known as Eru Ilúvatar. In a sense, he is the one true god," Thranduil explained rather bluntly and Sigrid became all the more aware of her general ignorance.
"So... Are they like some sort of elf?" she hesitantly asked and braced herself for she expected to be grilled for her lack of knowledge.
To her surprise, none of that occurred.
"You shouldn't be afraid of asking questions, Sigrid. The Valar are neither elves nor men but that of ancient spiritual beings known as the Ainur. The lords of the Valar are seven and the ladies of Valar are also seven. Lesser spiritual beings of the Ainur are called Maia and they exist as different helpers, servants and subjects to the Valar. The Valars you should concern yourself with are Aulë, Yavanna, Nienna, Irmo Lórien and Estë, as they are the creators of your ring. The first three are counted amongst the Aratar which are the eight greatest of the Valar."
And thus, Sigrid focused on Thranduil's voice as he explained to her. Knowing everything by heart, his eyes seemed to rarely leave her face. Overtime, as she leeched up the information, her muscles became less tense and she felt herself become increasingly interested. It felt much like a fairy tail and the fact that it was all real, made her almost giddy with excitement. Like she was but a child. All of this was too much... it was too big for her simple mind to conceptualize.