An Unexpected Ring

Chapter 22

Awake

I have seen the other side.

The place before death.

Between.

There is far too much tea and self-righteousness.

Tiki leaned back in a rocking chair. It rolled back and forth in a gentle rhythm, her half-lidded eyes fluttering as the soft motion lulled her toward a slumber. Her hands ran over the polished wood armrests. Handcrafted, of course. Sir Donnel insisted on giving her and Robin something handmade for their wedding.

A faint smile creased her lips as she rested her head back. Red sunbeams came through the window, bathing her in warmth. A pleased hum rumbled from her chest. Naga, she could just curl up and sleep for an age here. This was home. Peace and comfort existed here. There were no wars, no troubles, just the soft crackling of the fire, the low hush of the wind slipping through a draft in the window, and the rocking of her chair. Soon, Robin would be home from the Ylissean Palace, weary from dealing with squabbling nobility and playing politics. Loathe as he was to admit it, he was quite good at it. She liked to tease him about that.

She sank further into her chair, but one ear remained alert. Waiting for the door to open. Only, the sound she heard next was not the soft groan of iron hinges. Instead, she heard a heavy sigh, followed by the sound of someone opening cabinets in her kitchen. She furrowed her brow.

Is Robin already home?

When she opened her eyes, she froze.

"Oh?" Annatar glanced over his shoulder at her. He held a loaf of bread in one hand and a block of cheese in the other. "Don't mind me. Go on and do the thing lizards so love to do."

Tiki frowned. "And that would be?"

"Sunbathing of course," Annatar replied. He set the bread down on a wooden cutting board, then flicked a knife from the knife block into his palm. After twirling the blade, he slashed it through the bread, then deftly scraped some cheese onto it. He took a bite then turned around and leaned back against the counter. "It's always interesting when we come here."

"What do you mean?"

Annatar let out an amused sound. "Now don't tell me you don't remember. The drama of what occurred was enough to set me on edge. Laying down your life for your friends, your family. It was not the first time. Hopefully, it was the last." He took another bite of bread and cheese. "This is a good variety," he said as he tapped the knife of the block of cheese, "what kind is it?"

"Muenster," Tiki replied.

"Never heard of it," Annatar replied. "Artisanal, no doubt. Excellent taste. Only the best can come from the greatest of craftsmen, and I'm sure that is where you found it. After all, you have exquisite taste in many things. Food, friends, family, death-"

"I am not dead."

"Indeed you are not, but you certainly tried," Annatar replied, his thin brow raised. "Even your best efforts would have failed you though. I would not have allowed it."

Tiki frowned. "And who are you to deny death?"

Annatar gave her a wolfish smile. "Who is death to deny me? That is the better question. However, I was denied, but not by Mandos, although I know he wanted to. No, what stood in my way was someone that caught me most off guard."

Tiki sank back into her rocking chair. Now it was all coming together. This was not home. This was in her head. A vision. A figment of her mind playing out before her like a strange bit of theater. Yes, now she remembered Naga. Now she remembered the study, the conversation, the accusations and reasonings, and the excellent tea that she hated to admit she thoroughly enjoyed.

"Bread and cheese?" Annatar asked.

"What did my mother say to you?"

Annatar quirked an eyebrow.

"I know my mother," Tiki continued. "I may not have lived with her long, but I do know how she is. Above all else, she is somehow both absent and a meddler at the same time. So, with those words, I say she can be quite nosy when she wants to be and certainly unhelpful at the best of times."

Annatar chuckled. "Oh, she was absolutely those two things. You see, I tried to get her to see my way of things. After all, she's not from Middle-Earth. What would she know about the way things work here? I bring you back, and you would not only be alive, you would never have to worry about degeneration again."

Tiki blinked. "What?"

"Didn't think I knew that tidbit, did you?" Annatar finished his slice of bread. "Tiki, I've been in your head for almost one hundred years now. Don't think I haven't noticed cobwebs in corners that were not there when we first met. Don't think I haven't seen the flashes of anger so carefully quelled by sensible, civil reasoning that makes less sense to the more feral parts of your mind. You were losing yourself. I offered a way to avoid such a dreadful fate. But, before I could propose it to you, your mother had to intervene."

Tiki sat still and silent. Her chair no longer rocked. It had been a few months since Annatar last appeared in her thoughts. Even longer since they had such a prolonged chat like this. Usually, he just observed. He didn't taunt, like today. What changed?

"You're here with your offer," Tiki surmised.

Annatar grinned. "That is what I most enjoy about you, Tiki. Do not mistake me, I love the raw power you display. The drive that you live with. The ability to take charge and command should you desire to. All of it speaks to the power that you were born with, both in the physical and metaphysical sense of the word. However, you have that pesky degeneration holding you back. A chain bound to your very being, never letting you truly let loose." He reached into his pocket. Tiki tilted her head as he produced a ring with a diamond embedded in silver. "With this, you would be free of such constraints. You would be free to live as you wish. You could transform whenever, wherever, and however you wanted. You could wield that tremendous strength you possess without fear of it destroying you. You could laugh, love, and live as recklessly as you always dreamed of. A truly free dragon. And, all you have to do is put it on."

Tiki stared at the ring. Sunlight glinted through the facets of the perfectly cut diamond. It shimmered, the light reflecting a thousand times over, never bouncing off the same face twice. It seemed like starlight suspended atop the silver band. Beautiful. Slowly, she reached for it, and as her fingers brushed atop the cold silver band, she closed her eyes.

And she saw Robin, with his old coat, on one knee, with a simple gold band held toward her, and a look of deep love in his eyes.

Her hand gently took Annatar's fingers and then closed them. When she opened her eyes again, she saw a stunned elf staring back at her.

"I'm afraid that I cannot, Annatar," Tiki replied.

Then she drew back as a snarl twitched on the corner of his mouth. A dark, malicious sneer, the sort that made her skin crawl.

"Do you think this is a mere proposal? I offer you power. I offer you freedom. Why deny it?"

"You offer me something that I accepted long ago I could never have. Not without paying a price."

"I give it to you freely!" Annatar exclaimed.

Tiki narrowed her eyes. "And three thousand years has taught me there is no such thing as a free gift."

Rage flashed through Annatar's eyes, barely restrained. His knuckles turned white around the ring clenched in his delicate palm.

"So, Annatar," Tiki rose from her seat and stood before him, "what would you have required if I had accepted such a trinket?"

For a split second, a grisly image flashed across his face. A visage dark and terrible. Jaundiced eyes with slitted pupils. Sickly skin that he desperately tried to hide behind black robes and metal. Annatar was but an illusion, and the sudden realization caused Tiki's stomach to roll.

"What would I have required?" Annatar whispered, his voice trembling. "I would have required something so simple that all I have ever given such a gift to gave it freely. I would have required just you. No more, and no less. You, by my side, however you wish for that to be."

Tiki raised her chin. "Then you do not offer me freedom. The same offer has been made to me by many in my life. I have had kings and conquerors propose such a thing. Same with vile sorcerers, witches, and fallen dragons alike. Each time, I knew what they truly offered. Within one hand, a false promise of freedom, and in the other chains to bind me to their whim. Take your gift, Annatar. I am not interested. Now, leave me in peace."

Thunder rumbled outside the cottage. A flash of lightning replaced the warm sunset. Dark shadows crawled up the walls. Nine of them in total. Annatar remained rooted in front of her, eyes filled with dark hatred. His nostrils flared as he realized such fury did not faze the Manakete before him.

That was when a hand with iron claws snapped out and grasped Tiki by the throat. When they closed around her neck, her vision flashed, and she saw an eye wreathed in flame.

"You are mine. You always will be. No matter what you say. No matter what anyone says. And if you refuse to be mine, then I shall break that will of yours. I will shatter it across the Shire as I lay it a barren waste. I will smash it against the banks of bloodied waters through that cursed land of Imladris. I will destroy it as I lay siege to all you know and love. Then, when you kneel broken before me, you will find that I no longer have any gifts to give you, and yet still, you will beg for one final one. Mercy. Of which I will give none!"

Tiki bared her fangs. When her vision cleared, Annatar's pleasant face was gone. It was replaced by one scarred and snarling. His eyes shone with anger that burned like fire. His teeth were clenched so tight they groaned. His threats seeped into her ears, and for a moment, Tiki's heart thudded in her chest.

Then, she grinned through her fangs.

"One has already told me those things, yet I lived. His mistake. And it shall be yours as well," she locked eyes with him. "Now, get out of my head, Sauron the Deceiver!"

Sauron uttered an enraged scream. Nine ringwraiths' wails joined his chorus.

Tiki jolted awake. Pain flashed through her torso. A sharp yelp tore from her lips as she felt sewn flesh pull taut. Stars danced in her eyes, forcing her to squeeze them shut. With a soft thump, she fell back against a soft, down pillow. Silken sheets clung to her body. A soft, fur blanket wrapped over her lower half. The scent of mulch and damp earth reached her nose, followed by the soft smell of flowers blooming, old tree bark, and fallen leaves. She gasped as her eyes opened. She stared up through a small window woven between the roots of a large tree which pried open the rocky ceiling. She knew this room.

Mirkwood. The Elvenking's Halls. Her mind raced. Where was Moria? Where was the darkness that lurked beneath the earth? Where was the Fellowship? Gandalf? Frodo? Morgan?

"Morgan…" she breathed, her voice leaving her lips in a weak rasp, barely audible even to her.

Subtle movement alerted her to someone lingering at the corner of her vision. Panic shot through her, forcing her to ignore the immense pain in her side as she twisted to see who shared her room. Her panic faded as she looked at the calm, stern visage of King Thranduil of the Greenwood. He wore long, green, and gold silk robes as he sat back in a chair, completely calm.

"You were asleep for some time," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Tiki uttered a ragged breath. She slumped in her bed, her body trembling from weakness. "I feel like I earned it."

A ghost of a smirk flashed on the corner of Thranduil's mouth. "Indeed you did, considering you were half-dead when Tauriel and her scouts brought you to my halls once more."

Tiki blinked. "Only half?"

"Yes," Thranduil leaned forward in his seat, "and I am most interested in knowing what could have nearly slain someone like you. For that matter, I would like to know how you wound up so close to my borders alone with such grievous injuries. Tauriel informed me that you were part of a small company embarking on a quest on Lord Elrond's behalf, yet your companions were nowhere to be found. There was no evidence that they had been with you at all."

Tiki's heart raced in her chest. "None?" She winced as she forced herself to sit upright. When she did, her head swam. She leaned it back against the wall behind the bed, steadying herself. "You didn't see the others? Or Gandalf?" She shook her head as her mind slowly caught up to her. "No, of course, you would not have. Mother had to intervene, but not in any sort of helpful way."

Thranduil's sharp brow narrowed. "Mother?"

"My mom is a bit of a cosmic moron," Tiki replied. "She's got all the power in the world, but she doesn't know how to aim. No wonder she took up work as an artificer and not an archer. Heh. The world would not know her name if the reverse happened." She shook her head and then gave Thranduil an exhausted look. "So, I was alone, half dead, and not where I was supposed to be. I wish I could say that it was a new experience. Do you mind filling in more details?"

"I was going to ask the same of you," Thranduil said. "But you seem rather scant on any. That, or you're deliberately withholding information."

"Oh for the love of- are we going to do this again?"

"The world grows dark and the shadow deepens, Tiki. Not only do I find you gravely injured, but as I come to check on your well-being, I hear you screaming in your sleep the name of our enemy. A name that I will not allow to be uttered within these halls."

"Sauron," Tiki replied with a snide smirk. "Should I repeat it?"

Thranduil scowled and then rose from his seat. "Rest."

"I was joking."

"I was not."

Without another word, he left. Tiki's gaze fixated on the door when she heard it lock shut from the other side. Her jaw worked back and forth.

"Nice to see you too!" She hollered.

Instant regret hit her as more pain lanced through her side. She dared a peek beneath the sheets and saw her body covered in bandages. She could feel sticky salves clinging to raw, pink flesh around a wound that had bled through her bandages. She could smell fresh blood seeping into the cloth. Too much movement.

"Uh, guard behind the door, I think I might need someone to make sure I didn't reopen these wounds."

The door cracked open. A lone Sindarin elf peered through to her.

"Milady?"

"Kinda bleeding here. Could use some help."

"King Thranduil said no one should disturb you."

"Well, it'll be a bit hard to disturb me if I bleed to death, so I'll give him credit for his ingenuity on that one. Now, stop gaping and get me a healer, for the love of Naga," she finished with a snarl then a wince.

That snarl drove the guard into action. He shut the door. Locked it. Tiki heard his steps race away, echoing off the cave system's walls. Briefly, she pondered trying to get out of the room. However, she felt far too weak to move. So, with a despondent sigh, she let her head fall back against the wall. It connected with a thud, and spots shot through her eyes.

"Ouch."

The end of Tiki's fork tapped against her lap, wagging the piece of lettuce stuck to it. She frowned as she drew in a deep breath. It wasn't that she disliked the greens. She had gotten used to the elves' vegetarian tendencies at this point. In fact, she found herself pining for some of their dishes when she traveled and had nothing to eat other than stew and more stew. What Tiki disliked was being glared at while eating.

"If you're attempting to make me uncomfortable, it's working," she brought her fork to her lips, teeth crunching the lettuce. She swallowed then flicked her green eyes at Thranduil. "Although, if you really want to be effective, I suggest the dungeons rather than this room. But, you aren't going to do that, are you?"

"I'm considering it."

The corner of Tiki's mouth twitched. She found herself chuckling next, causing the elven king to raise his brow, puzzled.

"What is so amusing?"

Tiki set her fork down as she looked at the ceiling in wonder. "Naga, I always wondered where Morgan got her ability to irritate people from." Then she let out a long sigh and returned her gaze to Thranduil. "You'll get further talking than staring."

Thranduil frowned. "Why were you-"

"Don't know."

Thranduil folded his hands as he drew in a deep breath. Tiki bit into a cherry tomato. She hummed, ears twitching as sweetness washed over her tongue.

"Where are-"

"No clue," Tiki interrupted.

Thranduil glared at her. "You say I should speak yet you don't let me finish."

"I figured I'd save the wise elven king the indignity of asking stupid questions," Tiki rebutted. "I don't know how I got to the other side of the Misty Mountains. I don't know where the rest of the Fellowship is. And as for Sauron… that's private."

"Knowing why you were shouting the name of our enemy in your sleep should not be considered private," Thranduil seethed.

"It's private until I can figure it out," Tiki replied, her mischievous tone gone, replaced by a snarl that made the King stiffen in his seat. "You're asking me things that I either do not know or cannot explain, Thranduil. If I had answers, then I would have already told you. Naga, if I knew the answer to the first two questions, I would have already managed to claw my way out of this room and rushed to reunite with the others. However, I am here, whether it is by fate or a cosmic accident, that is the case. So, are you done being my interrogator and could you instead be my friend again?"

She did not miss the slight flicker of regret that went across the King's face. With a heavy sigh, he rose from his seat, ever-graceful steps carrying him across the room toward a small fireplace. He grabbed a poker and stoked the small flames within it. As he did, Tiki furrowed her brow, watching him. Somehow, the immortal being did not appear so ageless. There was a hesitation to his movements. A weariness that belied age and the immense exhaustion that came with it. He noticed her concerned look as he nudged the coals in the fireplace one more time.

"You like warmth, as much as it worries me to have a fire in these halls," Thranduil muttered.

"The gesture is appreciated."

Thranduil placed the poker back on an iron rack before gazing up at the mantlepiece.

"This was Legolas' room. He also liked fires. Odd thing for one of my kin, especially one that is my family. He could not abide the cold that could seep into these halls during the winter months. I had this built here, after brief consultation with some dwarven merchants from Erebor about an appropriate design." His slender fingers brushed the mantlepiece. "They suggested stone for the mantle. I did wood instead." He rubbed soot between his fingers. "I did not realize, at the time, that so much smoke would collect in the varnish."

"There you go again, thinking you were right," Tiki remarked as she ate her food. She winced, an ache lancing her wound. "There I go again, eating too fast when I have a gut wound."

Thranduil uttered a soft laugh. "I suppose were are both far too stubborn for our own good sometimes." He twisted to look at her. "Tiki, I ask about the whereabouts of your companions because I know my son is among them. I also know that whatever their mission might be is of great importance. So great that Lord Elrond swore all who even had an inkling of what the mission portended to absolute secrecy. An oath Tauriel refuses to break, much to my frustration."

"You should be proud of her," Tiki remarked. "If a particularly elvish-looking orc made the same demands, she'd be tight-lipped about it."

Thranduil nodded as he roamed back to his seat. "That she would be." He did not sit down. "I won't ask the purpose, Tiki. I only ask this: is Legolas going to come home?"

Tiki pursed her lips. "I don't know."

A sadness entered Thranduil's gaze. One Tiki knew. It was the sorrow of a parent not knowing the whereabouts of their child, whether they were safe and sound, or in grave danger. She wasn't speaking to a king now. She was speaking to Legolas' father.

"He is with good company though," Tiki continued. "No doubt he's doing everything he can to assist Aragorn in the quest. Boromir of Gondor is also there, as is Gimli son of Gloin to keep things interesting."

"I hope the dwarf doesn't irritate him."

"They irritate each other," Tiki replied with a wave of her hand. "Four hobbits provide enough warmth and laughter for dark nights. And…" she trailed off, her heart lurching. "And my daughter is with them."

Thranduil's brow rose in surprise. "You're daughter?"

"Her name is Morgan." Tiki gestured at her ears. "She's got these ears. My eyes. A little bit of my temper." She said with a laugh. "Her father's intelligence and patience as well. I don't know where she got her hair but her smile is Robin's as well. She is strong. Stronger than she should be at her age. She'll make sure everyone stays safe."

"That is a great deal of trust to place in her."

Tiki shrugged. "At this point, what choice do I have? I'm here, and she is wherever she is. The only thing I can do now is help her from a distance, which reminds me: what are we going to do about our dark friend in Mordor?"

Thranduil grimaced. Tiki's shoulders dropped.

"You're depressed again, aren't you?"

Thranduil scoffed. "I am contemplating-"

"You can simply admit it then get on your moose horse and get to work!"

"It's not that simple, Tiki, you know that," Thranduil retorted. "We of the woodland realm may be more numerous than the rest of the elves, but we are still far too few in number to engage in direct battle with the enemy. Besides, Mordor is not my direct concern."

"It should be."

"And what of Dol Goldur?" Thranduil replied. "Gundabad? The Misty Mountains even? This kingdom holds three fronts of the enemy at bay, and only by a thread. I will not order my soldiers beyond these borders while under such a threat."

"You could always do the sensible thing and ask for help," Tiki replied.

"From who?"

Tiki's jaw worked back and forth. "There happens to be a dwarven king who-"

"Absolutely not."

"Oh for the love of Naga…" Tiki hung her head.

"The day I request Thorin Oakenshield's help is the day I-"

"That you what, die?" Tiki scoffed out a laugh. "Hate to burst your bubble, but that day is coming faster than you think with that sort of attitude." She finished the last of her salad and set the bowl to the side. "If you're not going to ask him for help, then I will. Which would you rather?"

Thranduil's jaw tensed.

"The old alliances may be gone, but new ones can be forged, Thranduil," Tiki continued. "And we will need them if we're going to defeat Sauron. This war cannot be fought alone, not by any of us."

The king grimaced. "Yes… you're not wrong."

Tiki blinked. "Did I just hear that I'm-"

"You're also not entirely right."

"Ah, there it is," Tiki muttered.

"Thorin is hemmed in, like us. The enemy moves along the plains around Long Lake and Erebor. Messengers are harried and harassed, often killed. He's barricaded himself inside the mountain as much as we have shuttered ourselves in here. I was amazed when I heard Thorin went to the council in Imladris actually. It was the first time he'd left the mountain in years." He gave Tiki a grave look. "The shadow spawned in the East, Tiki. It chokes the roads between kingdoms. Again, I'm not going to risk those I rule to run an errand that will see them perish."

Tiki bit her lip. "Fine, then I'll do it."

"You're not healthy."

"I heal fast."

"Not that fast," Thranduil answered as he moved to her side, placing a strong hand on her shoulder and holding her in her seat. Tiki scowled.

"I'm stronger than you," Tiki growled.

"Not right now," Thranduil answered. "Even a dragon needs to take a moment to recover, and you certainly need that still." His hand slid from her shoulder. "However, if you are willing to take such a risk when you are able, then I will provide what I can to assist you in reaching Erebor. After all, you'll receive a warmer welcome than any of my kin would."

"That's fair," Tiki answered. She nodded her thanks as the King picked up her empty bowl. When he moved to the door, she exhaled. "Thranduil."

"Yes?"

"I'm…" she swallowed as she recalled her conversation with her mother. Degeneration still loomed. Her dragonstone was gone. If she attempted to transform again, she did not know what could happen. She could remain a dragon and lose herself to her primal instincts. She could lose her mind as she reverted back to her manakete form, becoming like the mad dragon Medeus until she was completely unrecognizable to all. Her claim that she was stronger than Thranduil was not true. Not anymore.

"I'm going to need that sword and shield you found with me. Make sure the edge is sharp, please."

Thranduil offered a small smile and then nodded. When he left, and the door closed, Tiki let out a shaky breath. She flicked her eyes to her lap, her fingers twisting into knots as she pondered the recent twist in events that brought her back to Mirkwood. None of it seemed to help. All of it seemed to leave her with more questions than answers. And she felt so ill-equipped to fight the darkness encroaching all around those she considered her friends.

But, she had to try. At least Naga provided her with an Emblem and Falchion. The power stored in those totems would have to be enough, for now. And, while she yearned to reunite with Morgan, Tiki also knew she would not have wound up here for no good reason. Something determined she had a part to play in the coming war's northern reaches. She would have to trust the others, trust Morgan, to finish the quest handed to the Fellowship.

I'll see you soon, Morgan. Tiki's lips pulled up into a small smile. She peered up through the gap in the ceiling, spying stars twinkling above the Woodland Realm.

I'll get back to her, Robin.

And chapter! Well, I was gone for longer than I expected. Life's been crazy and busy and crazy busy, so much so that I've only had enough writing time to devote to one project, and that has been the Original. And... it's almost ready. I'm putting that sucker through one more strict edit then... then we figure out what the hell to do from there lol. For now, I hi everyone, good to see ya'll again. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you all think of it and, as always, have a nice day!