AN: Hey my lovely folks! So i know i have been on quite the hiatus, albeit a necessary one. But I'm back now, maybe not for good but at least I have the motivation to post this so kudos for that at the very least. I have been dealing with lots of stuff these past weeks i guess and it has taken a toll on my health. So know not to overwork myself but yeah imma do it anyways lmao

Anyways, sorry if this chapter is terribly bland but there just isn't going to happens lots of super exciting stuff while Sigrid is in Rivendell. The juicy stuff happens when she leaves it, so hang on until then! I don't know when the next update will be but you are probably used to my irregular schedule at this point. Happy reading!

Chapter 10

She needed to find some sort of postman, a servant of sorts that had the job of delivering messages. She knew that nobles often had their own private servant for such things, whilst the common folks had to hire a local messenger. She didn't quite know where she would find someone willing to help her... She couldn't speak elvish, she didn't even know where to go or what to say. She was too shy.

As such, Sigrid decided to wander around, aimlessly it seemed. She had tried to retrace her steps back to the garden and it hadn't been successful so far. Somehow, she had managed to end up in an unknown hallway. It was quite narrow with pastel blue walls, engraved with small green roots and thorns. She must have taken a wrong turn in one of the stairwells.

The hallway laid halfway outdoors with glass-less windows, letting the wind and sunlight in. It was designed in a balcony-like manner and at the end of it, great pillars took shape to form a pathway to the outside. She knew that she was nearing people, not so faint voices could be heard, rising in volume the closer she got to the end of it. Tightly holding her letter with both hands, she looked out the windows as she walked.

Sigrid thought that she must be in a whole other place. Down below, past the white stairs, laid an enormous courtyard and at the centre of it was an obvious marketplace. She could at least spy a bakery, a smith, stables packed with horses, bookshops, weaving and tailoring business, clothing stores, small supermarkets and even a glassblowing-production factory. She would make the assessment that here dwelled the middle class of Rivendell... By human standards, this would be the wealthy middle class, at the very least.

Those of noble descent would often live close by the main palace or court of ruling. At least, that's how the civilisations of men worked and she doubted the elvish system were that different. The buildings and houses looked sophisticated and elegant but simple and homely at the same time. There were lots of wood and stone structures in pure ivory, as their oval roofs were decorated in different shades of blue, green, red, purple and yellow. Even some of the windows were coloured. Every house had their respective gardens and decorative fountains.

Really, it all looked so strangely clean. From the spotless cobblestones on the ground to the very faces of the elves that went about doing their daily chores. They were all tall and regal, dressed in clothes that looked to be formal but casual at the same time. It seemed that the elvish common folks, had the same status as a human noble, at least in Rivendell.

"Díheno men, nín brennil?" a voice broke out at her side, waking her from her intense observation of elves in domestic life.

Sigrid couldn't help but to jump in alarm as she stared up at the two elvish men looming over her. Moving a bit to the side as an automatic response, her wretched mouth were about to betray her and she almost stuttered out a confused "Excuse me?". She could hardly get a good look at them as they promptly strode by her and she realised that they had probably asked for her to move to the side. She stared after them as they walked off and disappeared into an alleyway.

Turning back to the view of the courtyard, Sigrid pondered on whether or not she should continue her exploration. She dearly wanted to buy something but she didn't have any money on her, let alone any elvish currency. Did elves even have a different currency from men? Before she even had time to ponder about it, a familiar sensation settled around her limbs, like warm shackles. All of sudden, her ring started to heat up and shone more brightly than before.

Sigrid tried not to outright panic as her feet began to move on their own accord. "What, what even..." she breathed out in disbelief as she sensed her self-control slipping away. She would never get used to this, this loss of control. She was being steered like a marionette, stiffly walking back the way she came from. Frantically, she looked around, her eyes searching wildly for the person she knew to be responsible for this. Her nimble fingers almost crumbled the letter she had in her hands.

She passed out of the pastel-blue hallway and turned left, straight down an unknown stairwell. She hadn't taken these stairs before. They were quite narrow and much too steep for her taste, she couldn't see where she was going as they curved themselves into an even spiral. As such, she wasn't ready for the person meeting her halfway down. They seemed to come out of nowhere and her face made contact with a broad chest. It was hard like stone and she let out an "Ouch" as she was slammed backwards, tripping over her feet.

She ended up on the ground, the jagged edge of stairs, uncomfortably cut into her lower back. Sigrid looked up at the elf as she stayed seated on the ground, she had to crane her neck in an extreme position in order to make out his face, he was simply that tall. She probably only went up to his knees in this manner.

"What do you want?" she almost spat out at Thranduil, her face red from embarrassment as she tried in vain to flatten out the wrinkles in her letter.

"You. I've been looking for you, should i really have to tell you not to wander off? I thought it was obvious, even for the weaker minds," he snapped at her, looking down at her slumped form.

She could tell he was irritated, quite a bit so. Grabbing a hold of the railing, she pulled herself to her feet, only reaching up to his chest. It was moments like this that she wished she was taller.

"Did you do that? Did you just compell my own feet?" she almost barked at him, knowing the answer but dreading it all the same.

"Of course, who else would it be? I didn't expect such a success though, so that's pleasing." He gave her a smirk, a self-satisfied one that seemed to taunt her with its jagged edges.

Her eyes stung with tears that she would not let fall. She wasn't exactly sad though, maybe mournful for her future but most of all, she was angry. Sigrid didn't usually cry from rage but that seemed to not be the case anymore.

"Y-you have literally taken away my freedom, my rights as an individual..." she forced out as her breath hitched and trembled in her rage.

Thranduil only raised his dark eyebrows and grabbed her elbow. "Stop being so melodramatic," he hissed at her, his breath foaming over her ear as he pushed her forward down the stairs.

She had never felt so violated before and a sudden surge of fury washed over her, all of sudden she snapped: "You're horrible!" her voice echoing and bouncing of the walls of the staircase.

To her surprise, he didn't seem too bothered by her outburst, only mildly annoyed.

"And you're overly emotional," he stated as he continued dragging her down the staircase, the grip on her elbow started to feel a tad bit too tight.

Suddenly he stopped his descent and turned to her lithe figure. Looking down on her, she leaned as far away as possible, clutching her letter. The tears that she had held at bay, started to trail down her cheeks against her will.

"You need to act at least remotely normal when we leave these stairs, so i would have you stop crying now," Thranduil said in a monotone tone but with amused eyes.

His eyes became even more amused as he witnessed the effect of his command. The tears in her eyes started to dry up and her breath hitched as the rosiness in her eyes dulled down into their usual state. Her cheeks lost their red hue and became smooth once more without any evidence of tear-shedding. She didn't feel remotely better though.

"There's a good girl," he said with a snide leer as he grabbed the letter from her hand.

"T-that's for my father... I haven't written about anything I know not to mention," she blurted out in alarm as he ripped open the envelope with one slender finger and scanned her written words.

He stayed quiet for a while as he read it through.

"It seems you are telling the truth, you can ask Lord Elrond later at dinner if he could conjure up a new envelope for you," he said as he folded the letter and handed it back to her.

"Can he help me with posting it as well?" she asked as they began walking again.

He pushed her in front of him and let go of her arm, as the stairs were too narrow for them to walk on either side.

"Yes, he will surely look around for a mailman for you," Thranduil said behind her as he placed a hand on her back, willing her to move faster down the stairs.

She gave him a look over her shoulder and gathered up her skirt as if to not trip all the way down the stairs. As they finally arrived at the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into a courtyard, she saw that sun had already started to set. The skies was slowly fading into a dull pink hue and the courtyard they had entered into looked to be empty for the most part. Aside from a couple of elves folding laundry off to the side of a great fountain.

Thranduil lead the way as they walked further and further away from the quiet elves, down a set of stairs towards a thin bridge, stationed over a coarcing river. She leaned over the railing and inspected the river as it flowed down into steep waterfall, connecting to a large pond that was hardly visible due to the surrounding mist.

"I would advise against that, these railings are not made for supporting the weight of any human," the elvenking warned her faintly over the sound of the river. Sigrid, loosened her grip on railing and leaned away, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Are you saying that elves weight less than humans?"

He scoffed as an amused smirk made itself at home on his lips. "You didn't know that?"

She tensed up slightly at the mocking tone of his voice.

"Well, how am I supposed to know that? It's not like I'm some sort of expert at elvish biology..." she muttered out as she followed him over the bridge.

They seemed to pass into some sort of garden, threading on a small road in between bushes and trees. Suddenly, she recognised herself. They were back in the garden of which she had met Galadriel, or at least, they were on their way back there, retracing their steps.

"I suppose you make some sense in that regard," Thranduil said as he glanced at her.

She raised her eyebrows and couldn't help but grin a little bit, as if she had just acquired some sort of victory.

"But if I weight more than you, how are you able to pick me up? This doesn't make much sense," Sigrid suddenly asked, lightly jogging up to his side.

"Well in case it wasn't obvious, I'm still stronger than you, if not as an elf, then as a male," he just said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Are elves naturally stronger than humans then?"

"Yes somewhat, the average elvish female will be a tad bit stronger than the average human female. It's not the same case with men though, as an elvish female will be weaker than a human male and the human male will in turn be weaker than the elvish male," he explained, meeting her eyes as she processed the information.

"So you're saying that basically, people like me are at the bottom of this... hierarchy, whilst people like you are at the top?" she questioned, although she already knew the answer.

This didn't sound safe at all. He smirked at her.

"Does that disturb you?" he asked as they came in sight of yet another stone bridge.

She elected to swiftly sneak past him, taking the lead. "No," she lied, looking behind her as she stomped ahead, "I still know I'm better than you on lots of other things."

"Oh really? Humour me," He shot back, he actually seemed quite entertained by her.

Sigrid thought his current mood was better than what she could have hoped for and she dearly didn't want to say or do anything that would ruin it. She knew all to well that she would be the only one suffering from it.

"Oh like cooking, cleaning, fishing, hunting rabbits, holding a polite conversation, doing laundry, decorating, sewing-" she began to ramble up all the things she could think of but stopped short as... complications arose.

They has now passed the bridge and Thranduil promptly took a step around her as she'd halted before him. He looked at her with a confused glint in his eye at her sudden silence. Sigrid paid little attention to that though as she swayed slightly back and forth. It had felt as if a large stone sat lodged inside throat forcing her to breathe and breathe and breathe but there seemed to not be enough air for her to consume. She breathed in through her nose but couldn't get it out of mouth.

Her head exploded in an aching throbbing pain as she started to feel lightheaded. She focused with all her might to breathe but could only manage so in small turns, small intakes of air through her nose, enough for her to live but still not enough. If she took in more air, she would writhe in pain. What's worse was the stomach ache. It had started small until it started to spread, eating up and gnawing on her insides. It felt like period pains but a tad bit worse. Like something was squeezing her rib cage, as if someone has put a foot through her chest. It hurt, badly so, suddenly so.

Gasping wildly for air, she panicked as slowly tried to sit down, but her knees failed her. A hand was on her back and another came around her front, preventing her from falling head first into the moss. Her pale hand trembled as she held her stomach, clutching at the smooth silk of the waistband. It all hit her like a sudden train wreck, slamming into her.

"Sigrid, hey, look at me."

Her head, rolled to the side, leaning on someone's chest. Her eyes fought their way up to Thranduil's face. He sat bent down, beside her, holding her tense and trembling frame.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said to her.

"I-I don't know..., it's h-hard to breathe," she forced out, her lips trembling with each word.

"Tell me how you feel then," he prodded.

Her pallid face gave a grimace as she tried to collect her thoughts. "I just felt exhausted all of sudden, my stomach aches and my head hurts, my- my head feels so heavy," she cautiously explained as her breath hitched.

"Alright, you didn't feel any of this before?" He asked as he reached down and picked up her letter from where she'd dropped it to the ground. He put it in his pocket.

"No... I may have had a headache but it all just hit me now," she breathed out, the dress felt a bit too tight across her chest and she tried to loosen the neckline to no avail.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Thranduil seemingly interrogated her.

"Only breakfast..." she said.

"No lunch?"

She looked up at with a confused frown.

"I normally don't need to eat lunch-," she explained but was promptly cut off.

"I may have forgotten to tell you this but as the ring keeps on leaching on your energy, so you will need to refuel yourself more often," he said in one breath and didn't wait for her reaction.

Instead, he picked her up and swung her over his shoulder. Sigrid couldn't help but scream in pain as his shoulder dug into her empty stomach. Her legs twitched as she tried desperately to rise her torso up, anything to release the pressure on her belly.

"Y-you can't carry me like this, it hurts, it hurts please let me down," she hurriedly said in one breath as her nails cut into his back.

He actually listened to her and as he began walking, she switched his hold on on her to a bridal-style. She heaved out a sigh and let her head fall backwards, extending the curve of her pallid neck. Her head swung back and forth with each step he took, her eyes focused on the glimpses of pinkness that peaked down at her through the green leaves. The fading light of the setting sun. Before long, she could feel herself floating further and further away. She blinked, once, twice and a third time. It became harder to open her eyes with each blink. Everything became blurred, like messy watercolours and before long, before she knew it, she blacked out.

Well, she truly couldn't say how long she'd been gone. If anything, it only felt like she'd closed her eyes for mere seconds longer than usual. When she opened eyes again, she soon came to realise that she was back in her dorm, on her bed. She still wore the same dress and the sky outside had bled into a bright orange, a stark difference from the pinkness before. She was alone and on her bedside table was a platter of fruit and bread and cheese, along with a glass of milk.

Sigrid didn't think twice of the matter and ungraciously started to scrape her plate clean. Her stomach growled and she didn't even know she was that hungry. She finished her meal in silence and emptied her cup. Sighing, she leaned back on her pillows and put a hand on her stomach, as if to soothe a little animal. She lazed around on her bed for another minute or two, before ultimately deciding to leave her room. Tharnduil couldn't be far away, after all, he was obviously the one who had brought her here in the first place. The door made no noise as she pushed it open. She found him in the hallway, right before the stairs.

Thranduil's hair looked impossibly white in the shadows, as he stood, inspecting a painting. She didn't want to disturb the soothing silence, so she quietly walked over to his side. He didn't address her, didn't acknowledge her existence but she knew, he knew she was there. The painting that seemed to have captivated him, was a rather peculiar one. It was of a lone, white elvish boat on a pool of water that reflected the starry skies above. The water was like a perfect mirror, giving off the illusion that the boat sailed amidst the stars, small and illuminating in the black sky.

It looked so serene, so achingly beautiful. She wondered how someone could create such artistic lines, how someone could create such feeling in their work. It screamed of solitude, somehow, someway.

"Have you eaten?" he asked her, startling her.

Sigrid dragged her eyes away from the painting to meet his cold, blue orbs.

"Yes," she answered.

"Everything?" he prodded.

"Everything," she assured him.

"Good girl, there's still some time before dinner, so we should take the time to post you letter," Thranduil said to her, his voice aloof and smooth.

Her heart skipped a beat and she became rather perplexed at his show of... of generosity.

"That would be great," she quickly said, a careful smile, clad her lips.

"Come on," was all he said as he turned around and started to descend the stairs.

She was hot on his heels.