Elsa wandered somewhat aimlessly through the darkness of the forest for some time, the fear prompted by anticipation welling in her heart. She looked around nervously, partly for any more spiders, partly for the Wood Elves, and partly for Bilbo; he had told her that he would be close by, but she didn't see hide or hair of him anywhere. How he was able to vanish like that, she didn't know, but apparently he really was suited for the job of being a burglar.
But even then, she hated the idea of being completely alone, waiting for something to leap out and strike; it had taken a lot of coaxing from Bilbo to get her to go along with his plan, especially given her part it. What won her over was the thought of what sort of state the dwarves must have been in at that time; she remembered Beorn's description of the Mirkwood Elves, and too well the dwarves' distaste for them. That probably did not work in their favor.
Fortunately for her, the only spiders she encountered were those already dead, their vital fluids leaking out of well-placed wounds on their armored bodies, so that left only one thing to be afraid of. Whether those fears were well-founded or not, she would have to see.
Everything was quiet all around her, save for the sound of falling leaves and the creaking of branches in the wind. It did nothing to ease her tension.
Conceal it, don't feel it, she kept telling herself. For once in her life, those words had at least some use to them…
She heard a branch snapping from behind. Instinctively, she twisted around and raised her arms in defense, ready to send forth a blast of cold…but there was nothing there. She sighed in relief, and then quietly said to herself, "If these elves don't show up soon enough, I'm going to have a heart attack."
Turning around, she found herself facing the wrong end of an arrow on a loaded bowstring. Seconds later, she was surrounded by four or five elven archers, all of them aiming their arrows right at her. She raised her arms into the air as a sign of surrender. Their leader, an elven male with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, approached from behind a tree.
"Who are you?" the lead elf demanded of her, "What are you doing in this part of the forest?"
Elsa struggled to make the words come out of her throat; it wasn't easy when her life hung by a thread. Finally, she managed to speak, saying, "I request that you take me to…whoever's in charge around here."
He then asked, "What business does a mere human woman have with the King of Mirkwood?"
"My business is my own," she replied. She didn't think it was a good idea to say 'try to save the dwarves you've captured' right then and there. "Take me to your king, first."
"No one sees King Thranduil unless he demands it," the blonde elf stated.
To persuade him, she flicked her wrist, and a soft layer of snow wrapped around the base of a tree, much to the surprise of her captors.
"Will he see me now?" she asked.
After a moment of astonishment, the blonde elf turned his back to her, apparently to contemplate, while the others kept their bows locked on to her, but nervously looking at him for orders. He then turned back and gave a command in Elvish to the others, who lowered their bows. To her, he said, "Follow me."
So far, so good, she thought.
Cautiously, they led her through the dark forest over twisted paths, out of the realm of webs and dead spiders. As they went, the scenery slowly became more and more inviting and pleasant; while the trees continued to be massive, they didn't seem quite as imposing and twisted as the ones she had previously encountered. The light broke through the boughs and branches above with greater strength, brightening their path.
Eventually, they came to their destination; across a bridge over a powerful whitewater river that roared by was a massive gate cut into the side of a massive rock, supported by pillars with elegant designs carved into them, and a pair of armored guards flanking a massive door, who opened it upon their approach.
All the while, Elsa couldn't help but wonder where Bilbo was all this time.
They entered, and upon stepping inside, Elsa gazed about in wonder at the massive interior of the Elven Fortress; golden lamps illuminated a sprawling network of bridges and staircases, either carved of stone or carved of wood, with cascading waterfalls and streams rushing past moss-covered stones, while columns supported the natural cavern ceiling above. It seemed to her like the perfect union of nature and civilization.
Behind her, the gate shut with a thunderous boom. At the same time, Elsa noticed a soft pitter-pattering sound moving away from her, but she could not see to whom it belonged.
The elves led her over bridges and up and down various stairs as they traveled on, and Elsa didn't mind one bit, seeing how it allowed her to take in as much of the scenery around her as possible. But the tour came to an end; they stopped before turning a corner inside a tunnel, and the blonde elf instructed one of the others to move on ahead. She could only assume that he was the messenger, sent to announce their arrival.
They stood waiting for some time, silence pervading in the air, until at last the messenger elf arrived to let them move on.
After another good long while, they finally arrived at a place elevated above the ground, where a throne made of seemingly woven branches stood, crowned with the skull of an elk with massive antlers. Just below, she saw him; the Elven King, with a crown of branches and autumn leaves on a head of flowing yellow hair, and icy blue eyes that looked down at everything below with what she could only describe as the predatory intensity of a hawk. At the moment, he was quietly discussing something with a red-haired elven woman, looking up when Elsa's captors arrived. The blonde elf stepped forward and said something to him in Elvish. After a moment, the Elvenking gave a command, and the elves surrounding Elsa left her side. He then motioned for Elsa to follow him. But before she did, the blonde elf grabbed her arm. He leaned in close to Elsa, saying, "If you try anything, sorceress, I will kill you."
"Legolas," the Elvenking said, "Enough."
With only the slightest hint of disappointment in his expression, Legolas released her arm, allowing her to follow the King.
He led her down a flight of stairs, through a door, and into a small chamber where stood a pool of water the color of lapis lazuli.
Thranduil spoke first; "You must pardon my son for the initial hostilities. So, you are the source of the strange winter storm in the forest. Tell me, what is your name?"
"Elsa, my lord."
"And what business does one with such powers have in Mirkwood?"
She breathed in deeply, gathering as much confidence as she could and recalling all of the lessons she had been taught regarding diplomacy and politics.
"My lord, I have come to negotiate the release of Thorin Oakenshield and his companions," she declared.
Thranduil looked up in surprise. "What do you have to do with him?" he asked, but then after a pause, the answer seemed to come to him. "Ah…so you are involved in his little quest, then?"
"Yes, but don't assume that you can lock me away as well."
"Very well, then. However, if you plan on threatening me with your…abilities, then prepare to be disappointed."
"Open hostility was never my intention, your highness."
"Then I am to presume you have something to barter with in exchange for thirteen dwarves?"
"I have been promised a share of the treasure of the treasure in Erebor," she explained, "That share can be yours, but only if you release the dwarves."
"So, you option for bribery," the Elvenking noted. "A bold move, but unfortunately it won't do you much good. Whether Oakenshield and his companions go free is up to him, and I am not under the belief that he will acquiesce any time soon."
"Acquiesce to what?" she asked.
"Believe it or not, I too have made a request of him, similar to yours," Thranduil explained, "More specific than the treasure itself, mind you; there are gems in the mountain that I desire. White gems of pure starlight."
She looked at him rather incredulously. "Is that it?" she asked, "They sound beautiful, but it seems a like such a small thing to want."
Suddenly, Thranduil whipped around fast enough to make her jump. "They are NOT," he declared with enough force and authority for her to take him seriously. "I've never told Oakenshield, and I doubt his father and grandfather knew it, but those gems are worth more than all the gold in Erebor."
"How so?" she asked, becoming more and more curious.
"Because those gems," he said in a quiet voice, "hold the power to open the bridge between worlds, and allow one free passage between them."
Elsa's heart skipped a beat at his words, and she remembered Elrond having said something similar just weeks before. But then she shrugged it off. "It sounds like a rather silly tale to me," she said.
"I wouldn't consider it so," Thranduil replied rather coldly. "Would you consider something that your father guarded against the forces of evil for thousands of years a silly tale? Something that he used to teach you the knowledge of a hundred worlds; something he gave his very life to recover after it had been lost, only for it to wind up in the possession of an avaricious dwarven king, and eventually to fall into the clutches of a fire breathing dragon? Tell me, Elsa, does that sound like something to make light of?"
She shook her head softly, intimidated by his sudden show of passion and emotion.
After a moment of silence, Thranduil went on. "It seems strange to me," he said, "that someone like you would consider such a treasure to be nothing but a mere legend; I would've leaped at such an opportunity if I were in your shoes."
Elsa's eyes widened. Did he know? No, that was impossible… "I don't know what you mean," she stammered.
"Do not deny what is true," Thranduil said, "While I cannot say where you come from, I know that it is not anywhere in Middle-Earth; no one could possess such power over wind and snow…" he noticed a flurry of snowflakes drifting in a chill wind, "…or lack thereof."
Conceal, don't feel, Elsa told herself, conceal don't feel! Fortunately, the snow seemed to recede, but only slightly.
"Yes, well," she started up again, "What difference does it make to you where I hail from? What does it matter?"
"It matters," the Elvenking replied, "because I believe that I can offer you a deal, now." He walked over to the other side of the chamber. "I will let your little friends go if you promise to return to me what is mine. On top of that, I will even let you use them to return to your home."
"I don't intend to return there," she said, "Arendelle is far safer without me being there."
"Is it?" he questioned, "Don't tell me that you do not think of this 'Arendelle' every now and then. Does the thought of what condition your friends are in, or even your own family, not trouble you? I for one would probably be driven mad, not knowing if my own family was in safe hands…"
As much as she did not want to admit it, she hadn't seriously thought of it…but now she did. Her thoughts turned to her only surviving family member, Anna…what had become of her? Had she taken care of the kingdom? Had she gone on with her plans for marriage? Was she safe? Was that vision Elsa had seen of her been anything other than a vision? The thoughts and fears that had glimmered briefly in Rivendell now seemed to shine all the more brighter here...
…No, she told herself. This was all an act. It had to be; surely he was manipulating her for his own ends.
She turned back to Thranduil. "You are asking me to betray Thorin's trust," she said, "I can't do that to him."
"His grandfather betrayed my trust," Thranduil spoke, "when he withheld the star gems from me. Look where his greed left him. I promise you, Elsa of Arendelle, that Thorin Oakenshield will not uphold his honor once he lays eyes on that treasure. Not that he ever will see that treasure, given his pride and stubbornness."
"Whatever quarrel you have with him, I will not be made a pawn in it," she said adamantly, "You have no right to hold those dwarves prisoner, no matter what petty conflict you may have with them."
"I have told you, Thorin Oakenshield is free to go," the Elvenking replied, "when he decides to. But he will not." He then looked at her very long and with a heaviness that bore into her. "You seem to have been associating with dwarves for far too long," he observed, "you've acquired their stubbornness."
Just then, a pair of armored guards burst into the room. "Your majesty," one of them said, "The dwarves! They've escaped! We don't know how, but they're gone!"
It all suddenly clicked in Elsa's mind; this was Bilbo's plan all along! She made a mental note to congratulate him later. Meanwhile, the look on Thranduil's face was priceless.
Smiling, Elsa said to him, "Well, your majesty, it looks like our negotiations are over. I'll just be going now."
And with that, she unleashed a furious blizzard into the room, the force of the wind knocking the guards and Thranduil off of their feet. She ran as hard as she could out of that chamber, using the blizzard as a shield as she went (and of course raising the necessary ice shield when arrows came flying her way. Truth be told, she didn't have much of an idea where she was going; all she could focus on was getting out, and getting out alive.
How long she ran, how hard she fought, how many elves and arrows she had to freeze in her path, she had no idea (how could one count in a rush like that?). How she got out…that was an even bigger question, but she managed to do it, exiting through a door and stepping into sunlight once again. It had all gone by so fast, and she hadn't bothered to memorize the way out…had it been some higher power guiding her steps?
However, she didn't have the time to dwell on such things; at the sound of clinking boots and Elvish shouting, she took off into the underbrush of the forest, raising a winter fog to cover her.