The Witch of Mirkwood

Chapter 2 - The Elven Halls

They travel for the rest of the day and it was dark by the time they reached the Kingdom of Mirkwood. They crossed a bridge and in front of them stood two large doors that were opened by guards as they approached. Once inside they crossed another bridge and began to dismount. Nicassius scanned her surroundings in disbelief but also in bewildered awe, she had heard stories but never did she expect the great Elven Halls to be this beautiful, soft lights flickered from the detailed archways, there were winding paths and stairways that lead off into dark mysterious alcoves and it's intricate wooden architecture was breathtaking. She was pulled down from the horse by one of the elves, he took hold of her arms and lead her on foot further into the Kingdom, still bound and gagged, and still wearing the cloak belonging to the old woman.

They came to a stop and in the distance a figure appeared, it glided down a long stairway in front of them, slender and regal, it was a male elf, much different from those that had captured her, taller and more noble, he had long slivery blonde hair and wore a detailed crown of wood and jewels on his head. His stance was poised and serene. He made his way down towards the company of Elves who guarded her. This must be the King Thranduil she realised.

"is this the creature?" He spoke.

"Yes my lord, we tracked her through the woods and captured her off guard" Said one of the Elves.

The kings eyes scanned her suspiciously, she lowered her head nervously and the hood of her cloak cast a shadow over her face. He circled her, gliding around, studying her intensely with his hands clasped behind his back. He then came back to face her, he cocked his head to one side trying to catch a glimpse beneath her hood. After what seemed like an age he finally spoke again.

"Take her to the dungeons" he said as he dismissed the guards.

"No" Nicassius screamed in her mind "No you must allow me to speak!" she tried to mutter the words though her gag.

"I will not integrate this evil witch, do not speak with her or look into her eyes" the king spoke as he walked away "she is a sorceress, do not allow your selfs to succumb to her power"  In truth, Thranduil feared her.

Two guards took her beneath her arms and began to drag her away, she struggled and tired to scream after the king but it was futile. She was taken deep down into the dungeons of Mirkwood and thrown into a cell. She heard the door lock behind her as she fell hard onto the ground.

The sound of the footsteps of her captors walking away sent a deep realization through her heart, she fell to her knees and she began to sob. Her tears bounced onto the cold stone floor and she curled herself into a ball as exhaustion took over and she cried herself into a restless sleep, her dreams were fraught with images of darkness and sadness. As she drifted in and out of slumber she could feel the cold air pass though the damp cell and could hear the drip of water running down the moist walls, after a couple of hours she woke again. Her hands were still bound but the cloth that was around her mouth had slipped down to her neck, but she did not have the energy to shout out, the prison was dark and lonely, who would hear her cries? and who would believe them anyway? She crawled to a corner and brought her knees up to her chest and wept.