Hello everyone, I apologize for the delay. I really did mean to have this out a lot sooner, but here we are a month later. I had to completely redo everything in this chapter, from the plot to characterization for just about everyone. But ultimately I think the chapter is better than what I had before, and fits better with what I have planned out for the future.
I suppose I should stop promising chapters every two weeks, since that seems difficult for me to accomplish.
CW for this chapter is emotional manipulation. Please do not read the end of the chapter if this is triggering in any way.
As always, I have no claim to any characters except my OCs, and please leave comments, questions, critiques, etc if you wish. Thanks y'all for reading! It means a lot to me to know people like my work!
For a long time he says nothing, his head tilted to the side as he studies us. My fingers curl, and once again I'm aware how otherworldly elves can be.
"Unbind them," he says at last. "There is no way they will escape, for the magic doors will let none out once brought inside." The ropes are untied, and I do my best to rub a little feeling back into my wrists, shifting so my posture is more comfortable.
"Tell me, who are you, and why were you wandering in my woods?" he asks.
None of the dwarves speak, and I suspect this is a good thing, for who knows what they would say otherwise. "Do none of you have tongues? Who is the leader of this…group?" He looks at Fili like he already knows the answer.
"I am," Fili says, raising his head to meet the king's eyes.
"As I suspected. Why are you here?" "Your guards captured us. We wouldn't be here otherwise."
"Why were you in the woods?" The king's voice is sharper.
"We were lost. We lost the path and could not find our way back. Large spiders attacked us and we almost died. Only a day later we were captured and now we are here before you," Fili says.
The king raises an eyebrow and says, "That tells me what you were doing but not why you are here. What is your purpose here? Why were you in the woods?"
"We are Longbeards and Broadbeams of the Blue Mountains, and we are travelling to meet our kin in the Iron Hills. As I said before we were passing through the forest on the way and got lost."
"And why is there a human in your group?"
The king's eyes flicker to me, studying me. I study him back. So far he seems calm, and willing to hear us out. But that could all change in an instant. "I'm travelling to Laketown. I joined their group for protection. There is safety in numbers," I say.
"Yes, it certainly seems they are doing a fine job of protecting you," the king says in a dry tone. "Eleven dwarves, and one human, wandering through the forest, lost beyond all hope," he muses, settling back on his throne. "What shall I do with you?"
"I don't suppose you'd let us go?" Kili mutters. Fili shushes him, and says to the king, "We would bargain with you, if we could."
"Would you really?" the king mutters, seemingly uninterested.
"Aye. I propose an agreement of sorts. A partnership in trade. Dwarven tools and machines in exchange for Elven crops. In addition to a couple of fine pieces of jewelry, with white gems."
"There is nothing you could offer that would interest me," the king dismisses Fili's words with a wave of his hand. His face is completely still, save for the tiniest twitch around the eye. If I weren't already looking for it I would have missed it.
Fili tries again. "Or perhaps safe passage through Mirkwood in exchange for gems and goods from the west. We are very close to the Shire and the Western realms of Men."
"Did you not hear me? I have no interest in negotiating with you, for anything." The king turns from a humiliated Fili and speaks to the guard at length, in a language I believe to be Sindarin.
When he directs his attention back to us, his expression is blank, as still and unnatural as can be. Yet there's something that speaks of disappointment, and I wonder why I can't quite place my finger on it.
"For your trespasses in my kingdom and against my people you will be imprisoned. For rousing the spiders from their dark corners you will be stripped of your weapons and supplies. For your lies you will be separated from one another. And for being a general nuisance," here he looks straight at Fili, "you will be held indefinitely."
As quickly as he looked at us he looks away, like we're less than the dirt on his boot. There's a hand on my shoulder and a flurry of Sindarin and dwarves being led back the way we came.
The hand on my shoulder pins me in place, rather than lead me away. I twist my head to look at them, wondering why I'm being left behind.
When everything is quiet again the king speaks.
"What is your name?" the king asks. "Sonia," I reply quietly, my eyes to the floor. At this point it's better not to draw more attention to myself.
"Sonia." The name on his tongue sounds deadly, a warning for me to be truthful.
"Do you know why you are here, rather than with the others?"
"No Your Majesty," I risk a glance up, then force my eyes back down.
"What business did you have in Imladris? Surely it was not a social visit complete with tea and pastries."
I have half a mind to tell him that's exactly what it was, but my partisan gives me away. What kind of social visit includes weapons?
"No Your Majesty. It was not," I say. "I was seeking refuge in Imladris on my way to Laketown. Only a few days before I had escaped some trolls with the aid of the dwarves you just met. Imladris is a natural stop for travelers as you know, and since we were both going in the same relative direction, it made sense for me to join them for safety and protection. I'm sure you're aware it's a dangerous world."
The king inclines his head. "So it is, but that is not my concern. Your weapon is of Elvish make."
"Yes Your Majesty." "How did you acquire it?" "It was a gift freely given Your Majesty, by Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond."
The king raises an eyebrow again.
"You are familiar with them?"
"I'm their friend, yes."
"An astounding feat on your part," the king mutters, and despite the situation I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
"And what of your connection to Lord Elrond?"
"He is a gracious host, and an even kinder friend," I say, with just the right amount of sincerity in my voice. Hopefully the king will buy my words, and determine that at least one member of the company is trustworthy. And not worth imprisoning.
I watch as the king mulls everything over, at last reaching a decision.
"You do not seem to present an immediate threat to my kingdom, and you are more truthful than the dwarves. Your association with them seems nominal. Yet I cannot let you wander freely. You will be given accommodation and a chance to refresh yourself, then I wish for you to attend dinner with my court."
I blink. This is the last possible thing I expected the king to say.
"Yes Your Majesty," I say, and the king dismisses me.
A soldier helps me up and leads me away, down a hall and down another, to a room containing the packs and weapons of the company. Here I'm forced to leave behind my partisan and pack, including other weapons on my person. The soldier somewhat reluctantly promises that I will receive the contents of my pack after it's been thoroughly searched and inspected.
Then I'm lead down innumerable hallways, the path we take so twisted and confusing I will never be able to find my way around on my own. Eventually we stop in a hallway lined with doors. The soldier opens the nearest one and ushers me inside, saying a servant and healer will see to me shortly.
There's nothing much inside, just a bed and a side table with a bowl and pitcher for washing, similar to my quarters in Rivendell. Except Rivendell didn't feel so much like a prison.
After waiting for what feels like two hours the servant and healer finally appear, and I decide all long-lived creatures everywhere must have a really warped sense of time. In the hours it took them to arrive I managed to count every crack in my stone walls and floor and find a new hiding place for the ring. When I'm in my room it will stay there; when I'm out it will go back in my boot.
Both the healer and the servant are fairly quiet, speaking to me only when necessary, such as to ask where I am injured. I end up taking both my tattered shirt and pants off for them to examine the various scratches and cuts all over my body.
As the servant cleans cuts on my leg the healer removes the stitches from my back, muttering something in a language that sounds almost like Sindarin, but isn't. Liquid beads on my back before it's quickly wiped away.
The servant silently hands me a robe, and together the two escort me down the hall and into a small bathing room. We're the only occupants, although I would feel more comfortable in a room full of people than with these two. They watch my every move like I'm going to run the minute they turn away.
The servant shoves two bottles into my hand. "For your hair and your body," they say brusquely.
I slip into the nearest pool, hyper aware of the elves' scrutiny. I wash quickly, scrubbing away grime, blood, and particularly stubborn spider webs.
Movement catches my eye, and I jerk my head up. There's a mirror on the far wall, and my reflection stares back at me. I've lost weight again, and my skin is pale from lack of sleep and sun. I'm sure if I were able to do a closer inspection, I would see sharp and wary eyes and permanent frown lines etched into my forehead.
When I finish the elves hurry me back to my room, slipping me into an elven tunic and leggings and arranging my hair into a single plait down my back. Then they leave, and I'm alone.
I count the cracks again.
By the time someone comes for me I've given up on the cracks in favor of lying on the bed with my eyes closed. There's a knock on the door, and when I answer a soldier stands outside.
"Follow me," they say, and we walk through the maze again, although this time I pay better attention to my surroundings, especially when we turn out of one passage and into an enormous open space.
In the center of this space is a silver tree with green leaves, larger than any I've ever seen. It grows up and up, stretching to the dark, open sky above it, the only place in this cave system that isn't completely enclosed. I stop and stare, watching the tree breathe. The walls and pillars vaulting about the hall seem to inhale and exhale with the tree. Then I blink, and everything is still again.
The leaves towards the top shiver, and I shiver with them.
We slowly make our way around to the back of the room, going deeper and deeper into the halls. I hear and see glimpses of other elves, unaware or uncaring of the human in their midst. Different halls branch off of ours, all empty.
The soldier leads me down one hall, towards what I must assume is dinner due to all the noise and laughter. After a few more minutes, the hall opens up to a room filled with tables and elves, feasting merrily.
The king at the far end of the hall spots me in the midst of the chaos and beckons me forward. I glance to the sides, seeing no way to skirt quietly around the edges of the room. So I sigh, square my shoulders, and stride up the middle aisle.
The sound of shocked whispers and muffled gasps reach my ears, and though the noise in the hall never dies completely, it is much quieter when I finally reach the head table. I greet the king with a nod and he extends a hand to an open seat a few down from him, in between an elf with his same blond hair and an elleth with olive skin and black hair.
I take my seat. A full plate and goblet of wine appear in front of me, and I eat. The food and wine is delicious, but I can only eat a few bites before I start to feel nauseous. After days in the forest with very little food, my stomach isn't used to the lavish richness of elvish feasts.
My two attempts at talking with the elves on either side of me are failures. I only get one introduction from the elleth, Tauriel, and the other elf ignores me.
When the dinner is cleared, dancers and musicians come forward, leaping and singing in the space between our table and everyone else. One has a beautiful prosthetic leg, delicately carved in a pale wood. She dances just as gracefully as the others, the music buoying her on.
I wish I could dance like that. I feel tethered to the earth, solid and firm in my humanness. There's a tickle at the back of my mind, one that says there's nothing wrong with being human. Nothing wrong with having doubts, or having both feet firmly on the ground. I push it away for now.
The night stretches on, and I'm starting to drift off when the king stands. He says a few words, probably wishing everyone a good night. When he turns to me I sit up straighter in my seat, trying not to show how tired I've been.
He tilts his head, then walks off. I scramble to catch up, hoping I'm doing the right thing. We walk together in silence, out the way we came, out to the tree's hall, back to my hallway, stopping in front of my door.
I try not to think too hard about how the king knows where I'm sleeping.
"What do you know about the dwarves you travel with?"
My heart beats hard in my chest, and I wonder if the king can hear it.
"I've not heard anything other than what they told you earlier. They travel to the Iron Hill to meet and trade with their kin. I'm travelling with them for protection until we reach Laketown."
Neither of us bother to say that the company probably won't be reaching Laketown anytime soon.
The king hums. "I intend to have the full truth from you. Perhaps tomorrow we can jog your memory a bit." With that he walks off, leaving me wondering what exactly his words mean. I'm not sure I want to know.
The next morning food is brought to me. I've resigned myself to long hours of solitude, and since I've grown tired of counting the cracks in the stone, I close my eyes and think about how I'm going to get the dwarves out.
Eventually I fall asleep, for lack of anything better to do. When I wake it's to a knock on my door, and when I open it I see Tauriel and the king.
"Come with me," he says, and we fall in behind him as he leads us to the tree's hall. Instead of going all the way around the room this time we go down many flights of stairs, down to where the roots of the tree are sprawled in the forest floor. We go deeper still, down a tunnel carved in rock, the air growing colder and damper the further we go. I begin to shiver, knowing from the book we must be approaching the cellars.
The king leads us to the cells instead, to where the dwarves are being held.
My jaw clenches when I see them, and I force it to relax before the king sees. There's no sense in letting him realize how close I am to this company. Most of the dwarves ignore us, except Dwalin who makes a rude gesture, whether at me or the elves I don't know. Probably both.
We stop in front of Fili's cell. He looks alright, despite the tired creases surrounding his eyes and lining his forehead. He gets to his feet, eyes flicking from me to the king, to Tauriel.
"Can I help you?" his voice is edged with annoyance, and I almost laugh. He sounds like Thorin.
"What do you know of this human?" the king asks.
"She was to travel with us to Laketown," Fili says. "We understand that there were safety concerns while she was travelling alone, and since we were travelling in the same direction, we offered to let her travel with us."
"What business did you have in Imladris?" "We did not stay long. We merely bought supplies and continued on," Fili says.
"Fascinating. It is so unlike dwarves to be so amiable or generous," the king says. Fili wrinkles his nose. "She paid well," he replies, and the king's lips turn up in the tiniest smirk.
"Of that I'm certain," he says. "Since you appear to know nothing of each other, I suggest you come with me now."
He leaves, never thinking I won't follow behind. I repress a sigh, and Tauriel shoots me a sympathetic glance before schooling her face into uninterested neutrality. On our way out, he stops by a guard and murmurs, "No food or water for the dwarves. Two days."
My jaw clenches again.
What Fili said doesn't exactly go against what I told the king. But without a chance to agree upon a story together, we will surely make several contradictions. And then the king will catch us in further lies.
We take a circuitous route back to the tree's hall, passing through many rooms full of instruments and artifacts. Some of them are clearly trophies from wars long ago, others appear newer. Everywhere we go the elves bow to the king, then let their gazes slide past like I'm not even there.
Except one, with the same blond hair as the king. I recognize him from last night, when I sat between him and Tauriel. This must be Legolas, because the resemblance between him and the king is too strong for it to be anyone else.
He peers at me and asks the king what appears to be a question. When the king responds, Legolas nods again and continues on his way.
We finally emerge into the tree's hall, the walls shimmering and breathing. The tree leaves rustle, and it clicks.
Though small in number, the Mirkwood elves are strong, and enduring. They may not be as stubborn as dwarves, but within their cave they will survive and thrive, the world around them not worthy of notice. Light and delicate like tree leaves, sturdy as roots. Gentle yet fanged.
Despite my best efforts my face must betray some of my thoughts, because the king looks at me, an unkind smile gracing his lips. I stare back, suddenly certain I will not see the dwarves again for a long time.
I cry in the privacy of my room that night. I miss my dwarves. I'd rather be together with them facing the dangers of Mirkwood than separated and safe.
Separated and trapped really. My contact with the outside world is limited. There are meals and interrogations, and on days where I throw out some new lie during my questionings I join the king for dinner. The rest of the time I'm confined to my room.
A week passes. I can't afford to wait any longer.
It's time to raise the stakes.
