A/N: it bears without saying that this story is a product of my enormous love for The Hobbit and, particularly, the recent The Desolation of Smaug (which I'm still not over, obv). I'm not a Tolkien expert, I've only read The Hobbit and The Fellowship of The Ring, so please be kind if some some inaccuracies slip by. Sigrid is not an OC of my creation, she is an OC of Peter Jackson's creation and if you've seen the movie, you know what I'm talking about. Anyway, please enjoy!

"We found this daughter of Men close to our borders. She was helping the prisoners escape through the gates. She was armed, too. A crude bow from Esgaroth," the archer called Dinendal informed the King.

The girl was standing some steps below between two guards who kept their sharp eyes on her. She held her head down. Her cheeks were tinted red.

Thranduil threaded a listless hand through his hair and peered at the company over his shoulder.

"Lake-town? Surely, the girl wouldn't be so foolish as to endanger our generous treaty with her...less than fortunate homeland."

His voice was softer than air, but it filled the halls all the same, like the echo of the old songs that never vanished. There was no kindness in it, as much as it pleased the senses. There was only celestial ice.

Her heart started beating faster. She had really done it now. Nevermind what her father would do when he found out, but the whole of Lake-town would curse her name.

She had gone and undone years upon years of silent diplomacy and tacit agreements. Lake-town survived on trade from the Forest River.

They could not afford to upset the Wood-elves.

"What should we do with her, Sire?"

The King's eyes glinted with secret delight when he looked upon her trembling figure and saw how terrified she was of what she had done.

Men were such an unpleasant race; they lived together in large groups and made a show of their loyalty to others, but cared naught for their brothers' wellbeing when their own was under peril.

This girl would probably sell her whole town in return for her freedom.

He smiled.

"I suppose I cannot encourage traitors. It would be unseemly of me. You shall take her to the dungeons until she loses the taste for interfering in elf affairs."

The girl's head snapped up instantly.

Her panic-stricken face amused him greatly.

"Please, Sire!" she cried, stepping forward, before the guards pulled her back. "My name is Sigrid, daughter of Bard the Bowman, descended from Lord Girion of Dale, and I am your humble subject, ready to vow fealty and amend for my thoughtless error in any way you choose, for I did not know the dwarves were your prisoners–"

"Enough, daughter of Men. You will hold your tongue in front of the King," Dinendal warned gently.

Thranduil raised a hand and waved him away.

"Sigrid, daughter of Bard the Bowman, you claim to be my humble subject, yet you will not sit in my dungeons?"

Sigrid bit her lip and shook her head, not hearing the King's sarcasm.

"It is not that – that I wouldn't be honoured, Sire, but I'm afraid my father and my brother and sister all need me at home, for we have no mother to take care of the house," she said, hoping this would persuade him to show mercy. "I will gladly do whatever you ask of me to repent for my misdemeanour and please you, but I beg you not to take me away from my family."

Thranduil leaned forward in his seat and caressed the long tip of one of the horns adorning his throne.

"I am hardly one to break kin apart. I keep all my children with me. I would spare you and set you free, but then I would need to punish Lake-town in return."

Sigrid stiffened.

"Sire –"

"We both know it was your father who brought you on the river in his barge. Your father who is not a shipman for the Wood-elves, but, as you've said it yourself, a Bowman. And I must also presume he encouraged you in this affair."

"No! He did no such thing!" she cried, struggling into the guards' grasp.

"Then you can see my predicament, Sigrid. Am I to spare two traitors, or punish an entire town? Should I not send your father to his death and keep you here until I see fit?"

Sigrid had started crying. "Not my father, I beg of you! Spare his life, in the gods' name! He is a good and just man and had no ill intentions towards you! It was all me!"

"Then, I must rain down upon Esgaroth. You and your father or the town, girl. Choose."

Sigrid stared at him in shock. It was as if all breath had been knocked out of her.

"I cannot –"

"You must," he spoke coolly. "There is no other way."

In that moment, Sigrid hated the King of the Wood-elves with all her heart. He was a cruel creature. He was heartless.

"I will stay here forever and do all that you ask, I swear by it, only please spare my father and Lake-town from your wrath, Sire! It was all my doing and no one else should suffer for it. The town has never caused you trouble before and it never shall again," she said, her voice trembling from fear and anger.

"Your life alone is a small price to me. What use would you have in my kingdom? No, I must either have the town, or both you and your father."

Come now, child. You know you will choose to sink your beloved home, he thought, eyeing her with barely concealed contempt. Do not disappoint me.

"I – I have many uses. I can read, not just books, but star charts, too. Father taught me. I can sew and cook and clean, I can row a boat just as well as a man, I can wield a bow tolerably well, I can be a good servant to you and your elves if you –"

"I have many servants infinitely more useful to me."

Sigrid bit her tongue.

"I can – I can give you the names of half the dwarves in that company."

Thranduil lifted an eyebrow in interest. Of course he knew their names all too well, but it was an interesting turn of events. The girl would rat out the dwarves she had been trying to save.

"Go on."

"I can tell you there's also another creature in their midst. I couldn't recognize it," she continued precipitately, "I've never seen it in any book. It had large hairy feet and was even smaller than a dwarf. It could turn invisible, too."

Thranduil's hand froze on the horn.

"What nonsense are you speaking of?"

"I swear it, he made himself disappear to the other dwarves," she spoke, growing more animated with the hope that Thranduil's sudden interest meant mercy. "I saw it with my own eyes. He put on a gilt ring and the dwarves could no longer see him. The ring must have a charm against their kind, Sire."

Thranduil gripped the horn hard, almost bending its tip.

"Why do you believe only dwarves could not see him?" he asked, his voice dangerously low and quiet.

Sigrid frowned. "Well, because I could see him fine. He looked a bit like he was draped in shadows. He was bright, but everything around him was dark. The ring must be magic. The creature wielding it must be quite powerful. I'm sure you'd want to get–"

Thranduil rose from his throne so fast, it almost made the guards draw back.

"You could see him," he repeated, his voice growing louder.

Sigrid nodded, confused. "It was all in a blur, but I caught a good look at him, I could help your guards catch him –"

Thranduil was upon her before she had a chance to catch her breath.

He was standing inches away from her, his head bowed to her level, silver hair falling over his shoulders in a long, bright mane.

"You are not a daughter of Man," he spoke harshly, his blue eyes cutting through her very skin.

"Of course I am. I told you, I'm the daughter of Bard –"

But the rest of her words were cut off when Thranduil's cold, smooth fingers circled her neck and suddenly, she was lifted up into the air.

"Speak the truth. What are you and what is your purpose here?" he growled, holding her above his head.

Sigrid tried to pry his hands awat but it was no use.

She choked up on her words, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I am only a girl who is f-far away from h-home. P-Please."

Sire. She cannot be a Ringwraith, Dinendal's small, soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. His archer was standing some feet away, watching the girl with consternation.

No, Thranduil replied. She must be something far more sinister, then.

He let her go and Sigrid collapsed on the cold floor.

The guards did not hasten to pick her up. In fact, they had stepped away from her. They were afraid to touch her.

"What have I done to anger you, Sire?" she asked weakly, standing on her hands and knees.

The King eyed her with curiosity now and a touch of surprise.

"You do not seem to know. You have no idea, do you?"

Sigrid wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I will once you tell me, Sire."

Thranduil turned away from her as he spoke, concealing his face in the shadows. "I will take your promise, Sigrid of Lake-town. I will spare your father and your home. And in return, you shall stay here. Forever."

Sigrid gulped, pushing back tears that were threatening to spill again. At least she had saved them. That was all that mattered.

"It seems you have a use, after all."

At least, no other can boast of having captured one who walks with the Unseen, the King thought with grim satisfaction.