Feigning Diamonds (A Thranduil Fanfic)

Chapter 3: Opal

"Many individuals have, like uncut diamonds, shining qualities beneath a rough exterior." -Juvenal

***

Even the horses that pull the carriage reflect like glass.

Idriel steps out the door, and Thranduil waits for her at the main entrance. She bears no crown as she is not queen yet, but her grace suggests her title despite the absence of the accessory. Her red dress contrasts with her white skin and, today, black hair. It flows behind her perfectly, riding the breeze.

Without a word, Thranduil invites her inside and leads her to the throne room, not that she needs a guide; she knows the way.

Thranduil leaves her on the platform and takes a seat in his throne heavily, wishing her to speak first.

She half smiles, amused. "What is your attention fixed upon here?"

"I need assurance," Thranduil confesses.

"Assurance..."

Thranduil chooses his words with care, knowing something as small as a preposition could turn this chat into a feud. "Who knows of my...mistake?"

"In all the years it's been I have only confided in my father," Idriel says, pacing the platform and taking in the changes that occurred while she was away. "He wouldn't leave without a reasonable explanation, so, naturally, I gave him one. But do not fret," she says with a smirk, "he kept secrets very well."

Thranduil holds in a sigh of relief. He had feared that she had told others about his affair, and that that was why they had stayed away from Mirkwood entirely.

"I am going to request that it stays that way."

"Or what?" she challenges.

"Or I will reveal your secret to your people."

Idriel hesitates, and she still has that entertained expression. "What does man call it? Blackmail? Well, my people...they do not know of my heritage, but they do think I possess a different magic, and that that magic is what I use to change the shade of my hair. You know this is all I can do, even though I'm half skin-changer. What I mean is that I do not believe my people would be entirely repulsed by that news."

"Are you saying that you will not keep my secret because you are careless about yours?"

"Oh, I'll keep your secret. There is no way for me to benefit from that piece of information; in fact, it angers me to think about, so you're chances of being revealed are even lower."

Thranduil remains quiet, only watching her pace and scan. Eventually he says, "I really did love you--remember that."

Idriel stops pacing to meet his eyes. "But was it a love so careless that you fell to the temptation of another? Yes. I loved you, and I did not falter."

Another thing about Idriel is that she is exceptionally skilled at making people feel guilty. The men call it--as Thranduil believes--guilt tripping.

Thranduil does not get to respond. Before he can, Legolas enters the throne room. He freezes and his face contorts to confusion. In a slight panic, Thranduil requests that Legolas fetch someone he did not need in order for him to leave.

"Is that him?" Idriel asks before Legolas turns the doorknob. "Your son?"

He turns and answers, "Yes. I am Legolas."

Idriel nods respectively. "Idriel, of Aeldyn."

"Yes, about to be queen," Legolas says, earning another nod. Thranduil watches their interaction with a pale face. "Father mentioned that you lived here once."

"Indeed," Idriel answers. "I very much liked it."

"Why did you leave? I mean no disrespect..."

"Of course not." She smiles softly, the one that still makes Thranduil's heart fibrillate. "I left because of," she glances sideways at Thranduil, "reasons. I needed some space."

"You sound like my mother," Legolas says quietly, more to himself. "She left too." With that, he bows and leaves to fetch the unnecessary elf.

Thranduil exhales once he is gone.

"He seems like you. Physically and mentally."

"I taught him what I know."

"Is this all you are in need of? To ensure my trust and for me to ensure yours? If it is, I think we're done here," Idriel says.

"Yes. Yes, that is all. Thank you for coming, and I will see you at the coronation."

Idriel nods and turns to go. Thranduil does not escort her out.

She knows the way.