The cold wind flogs at the trees, making them howl in pain, as if alive, and snapping whole branches that fall to the ground with a loud crashing sound. Frost and snowflakes twirl around, forming strange shapes and sticking to whatever surface they hit.
My eyes blink open to the sound of the swingeing wind and the coldness of the night's air that slips between the cracks of my clothes and licks my skin. It takes a few seconds to clear my thoughts and push the dull pain away before my sight finally manages to focus on the welkin above. The sky tonight is a black void from which snow pours is large, heavy clumps that the airflows swipe away and toss in various directions. I frown and try to stand up yet the fierce pain that splits my head makes me rethink my next move more cautiously.
"You must lie down for now, Isis. The wound on your head is still rather sensitive." it's the calm tone of Bilbo's voice that makes me give it a second shot and open my eyes, looking up at him.
He is covered by a thin looking cloak, which barely manages to save him from the sudden weather changes. The tip of his nose is red as well as his cheeks and there are tears in the corner of his eyes, which he tries to keep half-closed due to the endless blizzard that blows straight in his face. As I look around, I notice that the dwarves have created somewhat of a barrier between me and the wind with their bodies, as they are sitting in a semi-circle around me. Now, when they have noticed my regained consciousness, their eyes are on me, watching each and every move I make.
"How long was I out?" my voice is rasp and I clear my throat, only for the dull pain to return.
"Around five hours. Give or take." It's Kili, who is sitting near my head that answers the question while pulling the blanket closer to his body, barely concealing a shudder.
"And the weather?"
"Ever since you passed out it has been worsening." Fili replies, mimicking his brother's movements and covering himself better.
My frown deepens and I rise on my elbows slowly and with the Hobbit's help, completely ignoring the worried voices of the others that are telling me not to overdo myself so soon. As my eyes search the perimeter for a characteristic pointy hat, I can't help but feel worry forming in the pits of my stomach by the lack of it.
"Where's Gandalf?" I somehow manage to out-shout the loud howling of the wind.
"He left." Thorin's curt reply makes me look his way, the memory of him shouting my name during the battle still fresh and bugging me.
"Did he say something?" I ask him after I manage to sit up, the blanket sliding down my body.
Until now I hadn't realised that someone had undressed me, since the warmth that had been engulfing me gave nothing away. Now, when my body is left to the mercy of the wind, a cold lick from my neck to the valley between my breasts makes me look down, only to find my vest gone and my shirt unbuttoned, obviously so that a compress of herbs could be laid on my chest. My eyes widen before I quickly grab the flapping ends of the shirt and close them over the exposed flesh, feeling rather self-conscious as a bunch of male dwarves are almost openly staring at my slightly exposed breasts. 'Merlin's beard and thousand snowflakes!' I curse mentally and quickly button up the sheer fabric.
"Where's my staff?" I ask and look around once again, in hope of spotting it.
"Here!" Bilbo chirps and pulls it from under the bags, obviously hidden from praying eyes.
"Thank you." I whisper when my right hand is finally clasped around the iced surface.
Tapping it on ground two times and making sparks fly around, I whisper a spell and just like that the wind dies out and the coldness melts away, leaving a nice, still rather chilly yet not freezing night.
"Wow." it's Fili's whisper that's first to break the silence, making me smirk.
Grabbing my vest and quickly putting it back in its place, I let silence fall upon us.
"What do you think you are doing?" it's Bofur's worried exclamation that snaps me out of my rather mechanical dressing and I look at him, rather confused.
"What does it look like I'm doing? Dressing and about to stretch my legs."
With that I stand up and move away, making sure that I don't step on anyone's hand or leg. They try to argue with me, to get me to lie back down and rest, but I wave my hand at their concern and walk away, assuring them that I won't go far.
True to my words, I don't stray far away, but rather climb the nearby hill. What I see on the other sides makes the hairs on my back stand up and goosebumps to run up and down my spine. From my current position, despite the dim glow the now revealed moon offers, the Mirkwood forest is just as terrifying as when the sun lights it during the day. Many don't actually see it as something to be afraid of, believing there are merely trees in there, nothing worth bothering. Yet I have heard many stories of people getting lost and dying in these same woods, drugged by the poisonous mist that the trees' crowns press down, making it thicker and even more toxic. Unconsciously I hug myself, feeling intimidated by the sheer sight of its looming frame.
The sudden sound of steps coming closer makes me look over my shoulder, only to spot none other than Thorin himself heading my way with a grim expression of his face. As usual.
When we come to stand side by side, me being slightly taller than him, I still feel rather small and vulnerable compared to his authoritative form. His penetrating blue eyes, intense stare and slight frown never cease to make me feel on edge, as if I have done something wrong. Even now I'm twitchy and nervous by his presence.
"What's in those woods?" his low baritone voice breaks the silence.
He knows what lies within those trees – the Elven Kingdom, whose inhabitants he deeply despises.
"The air in that forest is known to be poisonous, making whoever passes through it hallucinate and lose the path, which leads to inevitable death." I say in a low voice, another shiver running down my spine.
He stays silent and we observe the otherwise calm scenery. The chilly wind makes my skin prickle and unconsciously I wrap my hands around myself tighter.
"I thought the Ice Witch doesn't feel cold." his voice seems rather irritated and I look at him, feeling rather angry.
"Well, the Ice Witch just stopped an ice storm from freezing you to death and is rather low on power. You must excuse her human needs every once in a while." my sarcasm is thick and almost cuts at the air between us.
Another chill shakes my body and I frown, realising just how weak I am and how little time I have to regain my strength in order to be ready for tomorrow's journey in the depths of that forest. Thorin moves beside me, probably turning around to leave, and I can't help but feel sorry for snapping at him like that. 'He has a lot on his mind, it's normal to be rather gruff and gloomy.' I think. As I'm about to turn around and apologise for my awful behaviour a second ago, something heavy and warm is thrown over my shoulders. The unexpected weight of said garment almost makes me lose my footing, and if it wasn't for Thorin's hold of my elbow, I'd have surely rolled down the hill. 'Not like I haven't done that today.' I muse and look at what exactly is pushing my rather light form so hard towards the ground. It turns out it's Thorin's coat, all warmed up and fluffy. Blinking a few times in confusion I turn my gaze back at the dwarf, only to see him staring back at the forest, a deep wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as yet another frown is about to grace his face.
"Stop it." I whisper as I pull the coat closer around myself, letting it engulf me in a warm embrace, alongside Thorin's scent.
"Hm?" he grunts and throws a sideway glance my way.
"Worrying over what's to come. It will come either ways. You are not doing yourself a favour here. One way or another we will pass through that forest tomorrow. It's a waste of nerves and time to try and figure out what may be awaiting us." I say, my voice calm and light, yet filled with worry.
"I don't like being told what to do. Yet alone by another know-it-all wizard." he huffs, obviously not appreciating my advice.
Somehow that doesn't offend me, but quite the opposite, it makes me smile and a small laugh skips past my lips. The unexpected reaction makes him turn to look at me, a rather puzzled expression on his handsome face. Yet the defensiveness is quick to overtake, and the wonder is masked behind hostility in an eye blink.
"What's so funny?" his voice is sharp and ready to put me in my place if the need calls for it.
"Your attitude towards others, apart from your kin, trying to help you. I find it amusing what bad opinion you have for outsiders, not even giving them a chance to prove themselves as worthy for your trust." despite the small smile still being present, my voice is rather sad.
"And there's a reason for that!" his reply is edgy, as if I had just insulted him.
'I may have. Who knows? Dwarves are unpredictable in their predicaments.' I muse and look up at the moon, letting its dim light soak into my skin for a second or two.
"I have heard the story, yes, and I do not blame you for your hostility. I just wish you at least gave me a chance to prove myself as trust-worthy one day. I'd like nothing more." my revelation startles me for a second, yet I know it's true up to the last word.
"You are loyal only to yourself. How do you expect me to trust you when you are unpredictable and don't care for the lives of the men in my group?" his accusation achieves its goal to offend me, yet I can't help but see some truth in his words.
"That's true, unfortunately. Yet in that matter we are alike – you trust only your kin, as no one came to help you when you needed it. I trust myself, because I have no one else I can rely on. I don't have a kin I belong to, or a family, to which I must be loyal. I have my ice warriors, yet they need only orders, not fealty. So don't be hard on judging me, Thorin Oakenshiled, as you don't know how hard life is when you are alone in the truest and harshest meaning of the word." the whispers are carried away by the wind and I gulp, feeling tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
For a second the only noise that fills the silence between us is the one of the night and its residents. Feeling rather wan of both strength and will, I pull the coat away and proceed to hand it back to the dwarf to which he just shakes his head, his eyes aimed ahead, as if not wishing to see me. Without another word I once again wrap myself in the warm furs and head back down, where the rest of the group is mostly sleeping.
Upon my arrival Kili looks up, noticing his uncle's coat on my shoulders and gives me a rather worried look, as if apologising for whatever Thorin may have said to offend me. Giving the brunet a weak smile I lie down and curl into a ball, feeling the dull pain returning as well as a new, rather foreign feeling forming deep in me. Pondering at its origin for what seems like an hour, I soon feel myself growing numb and my mind shuts down, allowing me the needed rest.
The next morning I'm awoken by a shake, so light that I take it for the breeze nagging at me. Yet the dulled voices that soon follow get my senses on high alert, until I realise it's the dwarves' speech. Cracking an eye open I look at my surrounding as much as my current position allows it. Next to my still curled body is Bilbo with a rather regretful look on his face.
"Sorry to wake you up Isis, but it's time for breakfast." he sounds genuinely rueful for waking me, which makes me smile at him and nod.
As usual it takes some persuasion to get my body to wake up and work. Sitting up I stretch my hands, hearing the distinguishable popping of my joins as they reposition themselves. Accustomed to this sound, as well as the one of my neck cracking when I tilt my head from left to right, I don't pay it much attention.
"What in the name of Durin's beard was that, lass? Do you have something broken from yesterday?" It's Balin's worried voice that finally gets me to open my eyes and look around, noticing the strange looks everyone is giving me.
"Nay. Just a little bit stiff. It's normal." I smile at them and finally stand up, stretching my feet as well.
"Can you make your back pop like that?" asks Kili, obviously too excited about something as trivial as this.
"Kili! She got injured yesterday! Leave her alone!" it's Fili's voice that is quick to dampen the enthusiasm of his younger brother.
Yet I smile at him and nod.
"I can do something even better." my conspiratorial whisper doesn't skip past the ears of the others, yet no one makes a go at trying to talk me out of it.
Planting me feet firmly in the ground for support I check if there's something in which I may hit myself, and when I'm sure it's all clear, I arch my body back, successfully making a nicely arched backbend, accompanied with the cracking sound of my spine rearranging itself. After a few seconds in which my body stretches I move my right leg slightly backwards without unbalancing my body, and use it as a lever to push myself up successfully. Kili and the rest are over the moon thanks to my performance and after the obligatory interrogation if I'm alright or if I have hurt myself in any way, they are quick to show their amazement with my 'gift'. The care-free and cheerful mood quickly sets everyone is a better spirit and the breakfast is loud and chatty.
The Mirkwood forest, even lighted by the warm rays of the sun, still preserves its horrifying eradiation, making my senses stand on guard and the staff in my hand to acquire a new layer of ice due to my emotions. In front of the entrance I stop, a strange feeling washing over me.
"You never told me what made Gandalf leave?" I ask and look at Thorin, who stops at my right, staring at the forest rather incredulously.
"He came here. He must have seen something." it's Bofur who answers my question.
Without another word I take a few more steps forward, until I reach a statue. What catches my attention is not the immortalized image of an elf, but rather the ivy that's engulfing it into a cocoon and obviously has been ripped away quite recently. Finally close enough, I glance at what's been revealed. It takes all my self-control to contain myself from jumping away from the cursed symbol when my eyes finally stop on it. Dread washes over me and I realise why Gandalf had left us behind. 'He went to warn the White council.' Sighing I take a step away and return to the path, nodding towards the still waiting dwarves to come along.
The conversations are kept at bay as everyone is concentrated on following the tiles marking the way and not drifting away. Yet soon enough, despite Thorin's leadership and assurance that we are on the right track, I know we are lost. Looking around us, I can't help but notice that everything looks exactly the same. The needed confirmation to my thesis appears when we pass by a rock I marked.
"Stop." I say, but the dwarves continue, as if not hearing me.
"Stop!" I shout, making Thorin and the rest turn around.
"We already passed through here." I tell them and show the ice dash I left over the hard surface of the rock what feels like hours ago.
The disbelief is soon replaced by worry and fear. Even Thorin's façade doesn't manage to hide the dread in his eyes upon realising we have been walking in circles this whole time.
My revelation is the last drop in the group's none-existed self-confidence and soon they all start scattering around, claiming to have found the right way. Some even come to argue and almost fight.
"Stop it! All of you!" I yell their way, only to receive rather empty and glassy eyes. "It's the mist! It's playing with us!" trying to reason with someone as pig-headed as a dwarf, just like I predicted, is a waste of time.
"You are not the leader! I am! Don't tell us around as if you are above us, witch!" Thorin seems to have lost the battle against the hallucinogenic gas alongside his fellow companions.
By the disorientated look in his eyes, his suddenly weak body, and the way he sits on a rock, looking around in a worried and scared manner, I realise he's afraid. 'He's not himself.'
"Look at me Thorin!" I hiss when I stop next to his lightly sulked posture. "Look at me!"
His head barely raises and I look into his glossy eyes. 'As if he's in a trance…'
"You need to fight this! Focus! We must get the rest out of here!" persuading him only results in snarky and offensive remarks.
Frowning and moving away, as he's obviously of no help in his current state, I start looking for the path myself. Roaming between the trees and staring intensely at anything that looks unclear, I soon manage to find the right way. My happy exclamation is swallowed by the forest's still air. And when I turn around I notice that upon finding it, I have lost the dwarves. Calling out for them, I receive no reply.
"Dammit!" I cuss under my breath, unsure of what to do next.
It's common knowledge that if I return for them, they won't even listen for me, let alone follow. Furthermore, I may completely lose the path, which is of no help either. 'That leaves only one way then.' I muse and rush forward, following the paved road and praying that the dwarves will hold up until I manage to find help.
An hour or so later I' surrounded by elves whose arrows are pointed at me, ready to kill on spot if needed.
"Who is your commander?" I ask loud enough so that everyone can hear me, even those high up in the trees.
"I am." a male comes from between the trees, his bow in his hand.
His tall and slender frame, so common for an elf, has that air of aristocracy and power around it. His obsidian blue eyes look at me with distrust. Nodding my head in greeting, I try to look as less harm-imposing as possible.
"I'm the Ice Witch of the Evergreen Forest. I come in peace and to search for your aid." despite not having practised the elven tongue for many years, I'm proud at how fluently and smooth the words leave my lips.
The man in front of me seems surprised that I have such knowledge of his mother language, but the frown that appears after that leaves an uneasy feeling in me.
"What do you seek so far away from your home, Ice Witch?" the suspiciousness in his voice doesn't skip me, nor does the fact that his soldiers are still ready to shoot their arrows at me.
"My friends and I are just passing through your woods. Unfortunately they got affected by the mist and need help. I came to ask for your mercy and assistance in getting them on the right track once again."
It turns out it's just as hard to reason with an elf as it is with a dwarf, but at least the one in front of me has enough brains to think rationally. Sending me away with two of his men back to the palace and taking the rest in order to search for the company is the best I can bargain for, so without complains I follow my escort.
Upon entering the Elven palace I can't help but be amazed by its magnitude and rich decorations. It's hard to stop my eyes from darting in all directions, all the meanwhile trying to memorize the way from the front door to the throne room. There, in his spectacular throne, I find no one else but the Elven king himself. His radiant blue orbs look at me in a rather amused manner before he nods at his guards to leave us.
"Fair meeting, King Thranduil." I bow slightly in recognition, reminding myself what Gandalf once told me – to have a certain way with royalties, as they like to be pampered and bowed to.
"A fair one indeed, Isis." he replies, his voice smooth and sugary. Almost too sugary.
"What brings you in my realm?" his eyes try to look right through me, and I know even the slightest lie, if detected, may be the end of us.
"Myself and a group of dwarves and a hobbit are passing by." I begin, only to notice his features hardening upon hearing this.
"Dwarves?" he spits the words and I nod.
"Yes, Your Majesty. We wish to cause no trouble. Only to peacefully pass through your lands and continue our journey." my voice is mild and kind to the extend where I feel like choking on the words.
"And what journey may that be?" his raised eyebrow and piercing stare make me grit my teeth.
"One with a very noble purpose, Your Majesty." the heat that washes over me is a clear indicator of how nervous I am, knowing what will follow.
"Is that so? Awakening that beast in the mountains is now considered a noble cause?" his voice is mocking, obviously not pleased with what I am saying.
"Reclaiming their home and killing the drake is a noble cause, though." I stand my ground, not letting emotions take control over me.
"But at what price?" the authority in the Elven king's words echoes throughout the hall, creating the desired effect at making his victim feel rather small.
"Everything worth fighting for has a prise, Your Majesty, and you know that better than anyone else." I state, the mildness already gone and cold yet controlled fury taking its place.
"What do you ask of me?" his irritated voice makes me grit my teeth, yet fighting against any odds I try to keep my façade the same, and my voice at least respectful.
"Only to hear them out, and if you find it fitting, to let us continue our path." the plea comes out a little bit more desperate than I intended, but either way there's nothing to lose.
"And who will I be talking with, if, let's say, I agree to meet with the leader of this company?"
Something tells me Thranduil already knows the answer to that question as well, yet finds sick joy in tormenting me. Either way I play along.
"Thorin Oakenshield." I reply.
The King only laughs, making my cheeks burn in a blazing rosy hue, and my temper threatens to get the best of me. Somehow, by some strange magic probably, I restrain myself from commenting or freezing the Elf's ass on the spot; rather let him laugh for a while, giving him the not-so-amused look.
"And what guarantee do I have that that barbaric creature will show some common thought and manner while in my presence?"
"I will be your guarantee, You Majesty. If Thorin in some way provokes you, you can do what you find suitable with us." I say, once again bowing my head in respect.
"I only beg of you to not harm them and hear Thorin out." I finish and look in Thranduil's impenetrable eyes, trying to figure out what he's thinking.
"Why are you clinging up to them so fiercely? Why not leave them to my mercy?" He tilts his head to the side, studying me once again.
"Because I believe in what they are fighting for and in their success."
The elf stays silent for a while before he nods his head, his long blonde hair sliding down his tunic.
"You shall be called when the dwarves are retreated." with a wave of his hand I'm dismissed.
Walking away, accompanied by a man of his guard, I can't help but feel rather worried at what's to come. Thorin harbours great hate towards elves, Thranduil in particular, and probably I just made a deal with a price far too great to pay. Overestimating the Dwarven king's resourcefulness may become bad not only for me but for everyone associated with us. With a frown I'm led into what I believe is a guest room in the lower levels of the castle. There I find wine, food, clean clothes and a warm bath. 'This may prove to be quite interesting.' my sarcasm is accompanied by a nice big gulp of wine.
I'm called a day later back into the Great Hall, where I find Thranduil already speaking with Thorin. The dwarf has that characteristically grim expression on his face, yet when I come closer his eyes widen and a combination of amazement and delight fill his otherwise cold blue orbs, before the mask falls back down.
"Ah, Isis, a pleasure to grace us with your presence, at last." the hint in his voice makes me frown.
'What is he doing? Messing with me?' I wonder and then sneak a glance at Thorin. By the look that crosses his face I feel the blood in my veins growing cold. 'No. He's messing with him.'
Gritting my teeth I proceed to near the two males, not skipping to notice the same elf that I ran into yesterday, leaning on a pillar and watching the unfolding scene with a rather bored look. Containing myself from any further action I stand aside, anticipating what is to happen. Knowing Thorin's mood when it comes the Elven kin – definitely noting good.
"I offer you my help." begins Thranduil, finally getting down from his throne.
"I am listening." shots back Thorin as he turns his back to the elf and takes a few steps away, creating a fair distance between them.
"I will let you go if you but return what is mine." by the sound of those words I want to shout at Thorin to say yes without his hate and big mouth getting us in more trouble.
"A favour for a favour…?" the dwarf seems interested in what is being offered and I can't help but get my hopes up.
"You have my word, one King to another."
Upon hearing that I know we are doomed to rot in the cells. Thorin would rather take his chances in killing the Elven King than accept any proposal whatsoever that will come after that line. After all the treachery Thranduil committed when Erebor fell, leaving the Durin's folk on their own could be neither forgiven, nor forgotten.
"I would not trust Thranduil, the great King, to honour his word should the end of all days be upon us! You lack all honour! I have seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people in the inferno that destroyed us!" Thorin's harsh but truthful words resonate in the room and I look away, clenching my fists. 'Our fate is sealed…'
"Do not speak to ME of dragon fire! I know its wrath and ruin! I have faced the great serpents of the north!... I warned your grandfather what his greed would summon. He would not listen... You are just like him. So go, stay here and rot. One hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf! I'm patient! I can wait!" the elf hisses at his opponent, and by the bewildered look that crosses Thorin's face for a split second, I know Thranduil has revealed what lies under the spell that's casted on his scared flesh.
With that the Great Elven King turns around, his long hair swaying behind him and returns to his throne. Elves leave their places behind the pillars and near the dwarf all the meanwhile pushing me forward, so that I stand in front of their king. With my head bowed and my fists clenched by my sides, I gather the remains of both my pride and courage and face him. Despite the fury still burning in his eyes, I see the victory of proving me wrong, and a slight hint of sorrow.
"You see, Isis? Your precious dwarves seem to be unworthy of your protection and advocacy." he gives me a sad, yet knowing smile, and continues his tirade, not paying any attention to Thorin.
"All your pleas were to no purpose. The dwarves are a savage folk; too pig-headed to be dealt with."
A silence settles and I can literally feel Thorin's eyes on me as he wants to say something, or at least for me to defend them, him. 'On what basis?' I sadly avert my eyes for a second.
"We had an agreement, Elven King. You kept your part. And I shall keep mine. Do what you find suitable – I shall not oppose you." my voice is lifeless and empty, yet firm as my eyes once again meet the ice blue crystals of the elf.
He just smiles, obviously pleased by what he just heard.
"What agreement?" the deep baritone of Thorin's voice echoes in the hall, demanding answers.
Against all odds I hope Thranduil will ignore the question, but the smile that spills across his pale skin tells me otherwise.
"She agreed that were I to spare you and hear you out, unless we reach an agreement, I'd be free to do whatever I please with all of you."
I take a deep breath, literally feeling the dwarf's rage spilling from each and every cell in his body.
"And now…" he continues, waving at his guards to take us away. "Throw them all in a cell. And take the witch all of her belongings – I don't want even dust on her hands!"
With that we are pulled away harshly and led out of the room. During the taking of all my stuff and the walk to the dungeons, my eyes are firmly planted in front of me, a dark aura surrounding me like a thick vail.
We are thrown in separate cells and despite the happiness that overtakes the dwarves upon seeing me amongst them, at the sight of my chained hands and the ruff way I'm pushed into the cell, their enthusiasm is quick to die out.
I sulk into the small claustrophobic space and curl into a ball, with my head coming to rest on my hands. 'This day is just getting better and better as it goes.'