Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not my own, yadda yadda yadda. I'm not making any money off of this. (Though I wish I could.)
A/N: Once again sticking closer to the book's timeline for their stay in Mirkwood. In the books, they are there for something like a month.
I must have dozed at some point, because the next thing I knew, the door was creaking open and a tall elf I didn't recognize stepped in. I peered into the darkness, squinting.
"The King requests an audience with you," The elf said. Despite his fancy words, I highly doubt that Thranduil 'requested' anything of anyone. 'Demanded' would have probably been more accurate, but somehow, a hell of a lot less diplomatic sounding.
I scooted myself to the edge of the bed and stood up, wincing. I had stayed curled up in one position too long and I felt very stiff. Clutching my cloak against the cold, I followed after the dusky brown-haired elf, the two guards who had been standing watch falling into step behind me soundlessly.
We were waking in the opposite direction from which I had come and took far too many turns for me to remember. When finally we reached a large open room, I blinked at the sudden torch-light there. I was brought up a few stairs towards an open dais that held a great many chairs centered around an open fire. Apparently, Thranduil did not feel the need to wave his throne in my face as he had with Thorin.
The guards stopped at the stairs and took up post there, the elf who had been leading me grabbing my arm and pushing me down into a bow.
"The female, my king," He said, bowing his head. I jerked my arm out of his grasp painfully and stood up to face the robed figure that now approached. A twisted crown of silver vines sat upon his head, glistening red stones clustered along the tines. His hair was lighter than Legolas' had been, nearly white-blonde, and came down past his hips. He had finely shaped cheekbones and elegantly arched eyebrows set above the same blue-green as his sons. As he looked at me, I felt a chill go through me. Nearly every elf I had met had emanated a warmth, an almost tangible light of life. Thranduil, however, was cold. Even the smile that tugged at his lips was a mockery.
"Leave," Thranduil stated with a flick of his wrist. The elf bowed and left us, but not before glaring at me.
I stayed rooted to the spot as Thranduil walked around me. I felt like an animal being checked for its readiness for the slaughterhouse.
"So," Thranduil said coolly. "You are the mortal woman that my son spoke of,"
I felt like replying with a 'duh', but somehow I did not think he would appreciate the candor. As the elf-king stopped in front of me, he plucked at one of my dwarven braids distastefully.
"Tell me, have the dwarves really grown so savage that they must bring a bed-slave with them on a sacred quest?" His voice was thick with disdain, and I gritted my teeth.
"I am not a bed-slave." I snapped. He raised a single eyebrow at me.
"Indeed. What else could you possibly have to offer besides that which is between your legs?" He glanced down and I fought the urge to pull my cloak tighter. Despite the fact that I knew he was baiting me, I felt myself becoming angry.
"You can't honestly think that is the only redeeming quality females have," My answer seemed to amuse him.
"Elleths, of course not. But a mortal woman such as you? Why, what else could you be possibly doing with a company of thirteen dwarves? Are you visiting kin? Or are you in search of your share of gold for your help?" He had turned and walked away a short distance, but paused and turned to look at me when he mentioned the gold. "If you think that Thorin Oakenshield will give you even a pittance, then you are mistaken indeed."
"What I am doing with them is my business, and my reasons are my own. I don't owe you anything."
I don't think people often disrespected Thranduil. For a dwarf and a lowly human to do so both in one day must have been wearing on him.
"You trespassed into my wood!" Thranduil snapped. He began to walk towards me, his eyes narrowed. "You and those dwarven fools. Do you think I do not realize what Oakenshield has in mind? He plans to retake Erebor. He plans to take on the great beast that lays in slumber under the mountain. And for what? Gold? Dwarves desire riches above everything. Their greed blinds them to all else. Even if it shall lead all others to ruin.
"How, may I ask, did you plan on taking a dragon? I have faced the great serpents of the North. I have felt their fire. Do you think it would be such a simple thing to slay such a beast? Or where you following the dwarves blindly, hoping that the King-under-the-Mountain had a plan?" He said this last sentence with a sneer.
"Do you think for a second that they would have hesitated to use you as bait?" Thranduil asked, suddenly inches from me. I tilted my head up and looked at him.
"Thorin would never do that."
The elf-king narrowed his eyes further at me, then he threw his head back and laughed cruelly. A cold began to creep up my neck.
"You have feelings for him. That is too rich," He made as if to wipe a tear from his eye. "And does your intended know of your foolish feelings?"
I froze and dropped my gaze. Thranduil let out another harsh laugh.
"I did not think so. Better for you, I think. The pity and revulsion I would imagine he would feel would break your poor mortal heart."
"At least I have a god-damned heart," I snarled. "You are nothing but a bitter and twisted king with no love for anyone but yourself. Inside, you are scarred and ugly and no amount of magic will ever cover that up."
With no warning, Thranduil backhanded me with such force that I went sprawling across the floor. Dazed, I reached up to touch the burning spot on my cheek he had struck. I looked up as the elf king stalked towards me, shaking with rage.
"Do not presume to talk to me in that way, mortal." His voice was low and cold. "You know nothing. Nothing."
"Then that makes two of us." I replied, my own anger making it impossible for me to, just once, keep my mouth shut.
"Guards!" Thranduil snapped. "Take her back to her rooms and let her rot."
The two guards who had posted themselves before the stairs marched up hurriedly and grabbed me under both my arms. They half-dragged, half-carried me down the steps. Thranduil's eyes bored into me as I was taken away.
Once we reached my room, I was shoved in and I barely managed to regain my footing to avoid falling. I had been doing an awful lot of that lately.
I ran my fingers over my cheek, wincing at the tenderness. I could feel the raised welts where Thranduil's hand had struck my skin. I was just glad that he had not had any rings on when he hit me.
I crossed slowly to the bed and curled up on it. Now that my anger was slowly coming down to a simmer, I felt a familiar ache in my chest as I thought about what the king had said about Thorin. While I knew Thranduil was deliberately trying to be hurtful, I couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to his words. If so, it was far better to suffer in silence then face revulsion, or worse, pity.
I stayed in the room for four days, though the only reason I knew that was because once a day, a small cup of water and a hard piece of bread were shoved into my room. With no windows to let the light in from outside, I could not tell day from night. At first, I had taken to striking and kicking the door in an impotent rage. I screamed my voice hoarse, calling Thranduil a coward and an idiot, and so much worse. When I could no longer talk and my knuckles were long passed raw from striking the thick wooden door, I sat down and cried in frustration. Soon, I could no longer even do that, far too exhausted for tears to form.
The door finally opened and the two guards stepped in along with three female elves. A water skin was thrust at me along with a light meal of bread and honey. I drank greedily, not caring why I was suddenly being looked after, only wanting to sate the terrible aching pain in my stomach.
Once I had finished eating and had regained a small measure of strength, I was led into the halls and up a long winding stair case.
We had not gone far passed the stairs when we came to a closed door. One of the guards opened it, and I was ushered inside and towards the center of the room where a large wash-basin sat.
One of the elven females said something I didn't understand and she frowned. She reached out and plucked at my cloak, attempting to unclasp it. I swatted her hand away, but one of the guards grabbed my left arm and jerked. I hissed loudly, the joint still very much sore. The elleth reached out again and I once more jerked out of the way. Glaring briefly at the two male elves who stood guard, I tugged off my cloak and dropped it. My belt, tunic, and bra followed. With a steadying hand from one of the females who seemed to take pity on my stumbling self, I tugged off both my boots and the rest of my clothes until I was standing wearing nothing more than my dog tags. While I had not had much modesty in the army, traveling with my dwarven companions had a least made me mindful of my nakedness, and I could feel a blush creep up my cheeks.
The females guided me to the wash basin and had me stand in it, the water cool. I downright refused to remove my dog tags but, despite my protests and feeble attempts to fight them off, they set about undoing my braids. When one of them made to throw out the beads, I cried out.
"No! Please!" I hated to admit it, but I begged. I had lost nearly everything of my own and I could not bare to part with those beads. I did not know if I would ever see any of the dwarves, Bilbo, or Gandalf again. She seemed to hesitate but nodded slowly and set them down instead on a shelf.
The elleths set about scrubbing me raw, speaking little to each other and not at all to me. I wondered if anyone even spoke the same language as I did, or if they were under direct orders from Thranduil to keep their mouths shut.
Once I was scrubbed clean and my hair was washed, I was encouraged to tug on undergarments, including some sort of bra that pushed my girls up and out in a very disturbing sort of way. One of the females pulled a long flowing dress from a satchel on the ground and shook it out. I eyed it warily as I was lead over to it. The elves helped fit it over my head and tugged it into place.
It was a rich grey-green color, the material a silky velvet. The bodice was tightly fit across my chest and if the neckline plunged any deeper, there would be some serious concern on my part as to whether I would start flashing people or not. The sleeves were long and flowing and cut at an angle so, while part of my hand was uncovered, the rest of the sleeve fell down nearly to the ground before tapering off. Around my waist was an intricately designed swatch of fabric that had silvery moon-and-star designs on it. Behind my back, it was gathered in a sash that the elves took no time in tightening. From there, the dress flowed out and around my legs, pooling neatly on the floor.
The elves straightened out the dress, looked me over, then began to fuss with my hair and skin. A powder was dabbed over the bruises Thranduil had given me and I cursed loudly, it being much more tender then I expected.
I was urged to step into a pair of very delicate looking slippers and then, finally, a long, thick, dark green cloak was pulled over my shoulders and fixed in place with a small silver clasp
The elves stepped back and admired their handiwork before two of them turned to leave. The third, the one who had saved my beads, tugged a small dagger out of a fold in her dress and picked up my old torn cloak. I let out a cry of dismay as she cut into it, her fingers working quick to secure an oblong shaped scrap of fabric. Once she had that in hand, she took my beads off of the ledge and quickly placed them in the middle of the cloth. She bundled it up and used a piece of leather thong off of the satchel to tie it off. She stopped in front of me and gave me a look that was almost pity. She held my hand and wrapped my fingers around the small parcel.
"Thank you," I said softly. She did not reply, merely turned and left the way of the two before her.
The guards, who had up until this point stayed very much passive and silent, stepped forward. One, with a leering smirk, jerked his head and pointed with his sword at the other guard. Taking that to mean I should follow and not wanting to run into any more misunderstandings with the Mirkwood elves, I was quick to start walking when the second guard headed off.
I was once again led to the room Thranduil and I had spoke in before. Thranduil stood once more on the dais, but turned and looked down at me when he heard me coming. He again waved his hand for the guards to leave.
"So much more appealing when you are dressed as a woman should, and not some poor imitation of a warrior." Thranduil said icily. I did not respond. He smiled, his eyes slitting, and he slowly began to pace.
"I am sure you are wondering why I have had you dressed such," He started. "Well. While the dwarves have no uses, you, my dear, can be viewed as a commodity."
I looked up at him sharply.
"Our trading with Lake Town has been very profitable of late, and I feel the need to thank the Master there. You are to be his gift. Whether he makes a bride of you, or if he passes you off to each of his men to have their way with you is no concern of mine. All I wish to do is to indebt the Master to me, and if I can rid myself of you in the process… Well then. It is all the better."
My mouth went dry.
"You can't do that!"
"I can and I will. You are nothing more than a prisoner of war, chattel for me to use to bargain with as I please." Thranduil answered. I felt tears begin to burn my eyes.
"And what of the dwarves?" I demanded.
"They will stay in my dungeons until they are nothing more than dust and bone."
I glared at him and swallowed hard. I took a few steps forward and he turned to look at me.
"Do you really think you'll get away with this?"
"With what, my dear lady?" He asked sarcastically. "With bargaining you away? With locking up those pitiful fools you hold feelings for?"
"No. With acting like you are so much better then everyone else. There is already a darkness in Middle-Earth. It has already eaten away at Eryn Galen until nothing but this rotted and corrupt wood remained. Do you really think it will stop there? Do you really think you can just hide here forever? That no harm will come to you and the elves? I don't even think you are that much of a fool."
Thranduil had become so very still that it was eerie. He did not look at me, he did not speak.
"You are just delaying the inevitable by keeping them here. The dragon will wake eventually, anyways. And even if it doesn't… Surely you have noticed that Spiders, Orcs, goblins, and all manner of evil things are beginning to overwhelm these lands. You can try and stay here, sequestered in solitude and hope like hell that whatever is coming will pass you by…. But don't count on it, Thranduil, son of Oropher, King of Eryn Galen." I took a breath and spat out the last words. "Or should I say Mirkwood?"
Finally he looked at me. He did not speak. He did not rebuke me. He did not strike me. He only watched me for a long while, unblinking, before he turned and walked away, motioning to the guards without ever bothering to look back.
The guards led me outside and I blinked away the sudden light. With my bearings lost, I wasn't sure if the sun was just now rising, or soon to be setting. I looked around, trying not to trip on the dress I now wore. The guards led me to a small group of four elves, with Tauriel being the closest. I felt myself frown when I realized she had my bow on her back.
She looked up at us when we approached and frowned as she looked me over. She spoke in soft tones with the two guards and then dismissed them. They turned and left me standing there, now Tauriels' responsibility.
"We are setting out for Lake Town. By mid-day in two days time, we should reach it, as long as we do not tarry." She said, looking to me.
"I'm walking in this?" I asked, looking down at the gown. I swear Tauriel smirked for half a second at my tone before she nodded.
"Brides have traveled further wearing worse to meet with their betrothed's." I frowned at the analogy.
"I don't plan on marrying anyone," I muttered under my breath.
"Move out," Tauriel said. The three elves spread out so one was at point and the other two flanked us at some distance. Tauriel stayed close to me. Every once and awhile, she would cast a long look at me, but she did not speak.
We walked on for hours, stopping briefly only to eat a few traveling cakes and drink water. I was not moving as fast as I could have, my few days imprisonment having leeched some of my strength. Add to that the fact that I was still sore from my fall away from the spider and I was miserable. I missed the others terribly and I wondered if I would ever see them again.
As night fell, the elves slowed and we finally made camp and what looked like an old out-building. No fire was lit, and our meal was no more than hard rolls and cheese. It felt as though I hardly slept at all before we were up and moving again.
Taking in the fact that I was exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and that I really did not want to go to Lake Town to become the Masters' pet, and I was down right morose. I trudged along as slow as I dared, not bothering to look at the forest around us. When Tauriel sent the elves on further ahead to scout, I barely even glanced at her.
"You are not at all like the Men of Lake town," She said suddenly. I paused to glance up at her. Knowing she meant that I wasn't a normal human compared to those that she knew, I shrugged.
"That's because I'm not." I said, with a dry laugh. She frowned and looked on questioningly. I let out a long breath, debating what to tell her. I reached up to brush my dog tags and, remembering Lady Galadriel, looked back at her.
"I'm not from here. From Middle-Earth, I mean." I said, finally. She gave me a sharp look, and I laughed again. "I know. I felt the same way. An Istari brought me here with the blessing of the Valar. I was charged with the task of helping the dwarves reclaim Erebor.
"Why me, I will never know. For some reason they thought I was the person for the job. At first, I was sure there had been a mistake. I was sure that this whole thing was just a dream, or a nightmare. It wasn't until we reached Rivendell that I began to understand. Lady Galadriel herself spoke to me. She told me of what she saw in me and assured me that I belonged. I don't think she has any idea how much I needed to hear her words.
"I have spent months fighting alongside those dwarves. Listening to their stories, laughing at their jokes. I have bled with them, and I have bled for them. We have faced tremendous adversity, and have over came it. Until now,"
I shook my head bitterly. Tauriel remained silent for awhile.
"Are you a Seer?"
I frowned, and she explained.
"Words carry in the great halls of Mirkwood. You spoke of the fall of Eryn Galen as though you had been there, and you spoke of the coming darkness. How could you know of such things if you hail not from this land?"
I winced slightly.
"Its hard to explain. I guess you could call me a Seer, in so far as I know of the basic histories of Middle Earth and how certain things are supposed to unfold. The longer I am here, though, the more obvious it becomes that, while the destination remains, it's the path you take that matters."
"If one puts their faith in fate, then that is not a comforting thought."
"It wasn't supposed to be. Truth is like that, unfortunately. It is neither good nor bad. It simply is. We can't change the past, but we can do our best to change the future, fate be damned."
Tauriel stopped walking and studied me.
"You believe Mirkwood will fall?"
"I can't say for certain. No offense, but elves are too slow to change. Most of the time, you are so stuck on the fact that you are immortal and that you came here first, you can't even see the merits of other races. If you can't come to realize that your lives are not the only ones that matter in the grand scheme of things, then Mirkwood may very well fall, and all of the rest of Middle-Earth with it."
"This is unbelievable," She said, shaking her head.
"I suppose," I said softly.
"Then again, Tauriel," She looked startled when I used her name. "Many things in this world are unbelievable. No doubt the curiosity you feel for a certain dwarf feels unbelievable, and yet you still find yourself seeking him out at night when you are supposed to be on duty, just to see him smile and to hear his voice."
She paled at that.
"How could you possibly…?"
"I told you, I know things." I answered vaguely. She very pointedly did not look my way when we started walking again.
"Kili is a good dwarf. He is a warrior, though he favors the bow, rather then the usual axe or sword his kin usually prefer. He has a sweet heart and loves to laugh, and he loves his brother Fili and his uncle, Thorin."
I stuttered over his name and winced.
"You do care for him," Tauriel said softly. "Thranduil said as much. He was tempted to throw you in the dungeons along with him, but decided that it may wound the dwarf to know that you were being sent to the Master as a…." She trailed off and looked off into the distance.
"As a whore?" I finished for her, bitterly. She flinched, but did not reply.
We did not speak the rest of the night. When the other three elves came back from scouting, we set up camp and, long after the rest of us had settled down, Tauriel stayed awake, starring off into the distance.