Feigning Diamonds (A Thranduil Fanfic)

Chapter 16: Andalusite

"The soul is placed in the body like a rough diamond, and must be polished, or the luster of it will never appear." -Daniel Defoe

***

Waking up the next morning is like a slap in the face for Idriel. Her emotions are drained and replaced with regret for accusing Thranduil of something she hadn't thought of until that night. She most likely just lost her only hope at figuring this mystery out because she couldn't see that for once someone was doing something nice for her.

Forcing herself to move on and accept that their relationship will never work, she washes and dresses for the day. After all, queens don't get mental health days. She changes her hair to a dreary blue-white color before placing her glass crown on her head. The one in the library had broken, but she has countless others.

The first thing on her to do list is to apologize to Thranduil for being so dramatic and angry last night. She tells the guards at the front door to ready her carriage.

"May I ask where you are going, my lady?"

"Mirkwood. I need to speak with Thranduil."

The guard looks confused. "I mean no disrespect, but isn't he here?"

"We had a quarrel last night, and I believe he left," Idriel says.

"I was on guard all night," the guard says, "and no one left Aeldyn."

Idriel furrows her eyebrows. "You're quite sure?"

The guard nods.

"Forget what I said then. Thank you." He bows as she walks away. Thranduil never left, but where is he? "I don't have time to worry about where he's hiding," she thinks, heading for the library to keep researching. "I'll see him soon enough."

She smiles and nods at every citizen she passes, trying to stay encouraging. Aeldyn is these peoples' home, and it's her responsibility to make sure it stays that way.

Opening the door to the library, she expects to see the disaster she left the night before. Glass everywhere, books scattered, broken wine glasses, and a sour aura. Instead, the place is spotless and practically sparkles as if tiny leprechauns had come in the night and scrubbed the room with diamonds.

Best of all, behind the grand mahogany desk sits Thranduil, paging through a stack of papers with intense concentration. He glances up when Idriel enters, just a flicker to see who it is, then looks back down at the papers.

"Did you do this?" Idriel asks softly, still stunned.

Thranduil sighs. "Don't worry, I did not stay up all night. It took only minutes with magic. I like to think in a clean environment."

"Is this your way of proving--"

"I'm not trying to prove anything to you," he says. "If you don't think I'm here to help, fine. But I promised you I would fix this, and I won't waste time trying to buy your trust. I should've known it wasn't something you would give me in a heartbeat."

"I was--"

"I know it's hard for you to trust me," he continues as if she hadn't spoken, "but you need to let go of the past if you really care about the future."

Silence ensues. Then, "I'm sorry that I overreacted last night. I can clearly see that you have good intentions since you are still here."

Thranduil finally meets her gaze. "I understand where your outburst came from. Apology accepted. I know gaining your trust is going to be a journey, but I'm up for it."

Idriel gives him a small smile. "What do you have there?"

"Letters from your father's room. They're mostly about you."

"Me?"

"Yes. He loved you very much. He speaks like he never got to spend any time with you. It's very strange."

Idriel hesitates, and then says, "He had a different mindset, especially after my mother died."

"Reading these, I feel like I'm on to something as to where he hid the spell," Thranduil says, starting to pace. "He obviously cared about you very much. He spoke of you like you were indestructible."

Idriel folds her arms. "I don't see where you're going with this."

Thranduil stops in front of her and looks deep into her eyes. "What if he hid the spell inside of you?"

"If it's inside me, how are we supposed to get it out? How did he put it there? Do I have to cut myself open and take the scroll out of my heart?"

"I don't think he wrote it down. He said in one of his letters that the most powerful ideas were the ones you didn't have to write down to remember." Thranduil's hand moves to her cheek, softly caressing her skin. "He put it inside your head."

"Then why don't I know it?" she asks.

"Because it is asleep."

"How--"

"How do we awaken it? I don't know."

"So my father planted the spell inside my head and made it dormant. Usually magic like that requires something like an object or a phrase to spark it."

"It's your hair."

"Pardon?"

Thranduil smiles widely and almost laughs with joy. "Your hair! He said it was his favorite feature about you because it set you off from everyone else. There must be a shade you need to change your hair to in order to know the spell!"

"That makes sense!" Idriel exclaims, but frowns. "Do you know how many colors there are? A lot."

"We'll figure it out; don't worry. We're this far, all we need is one more thing..."

"I can't believe you got all that out of a few letters," Idriel says. "I knew I needed you."

"And now Aeldyn needs you." Thranduil rests his hands on her waist.

"We need to start now."

"How about in a minute?" Thranduil leans in and kisses her, inhaling her scent and tasting her emotions. She's eager, nervous, but most importantly, happy. Hope radiates off her, and it only gets stronger as he deepens the kiss.

The moment is ruined as all the glass in the room shatters again. Every bookshelf, window, part of the floor and door, and Idriel's crown break and fall to the ground like music. When Thranduil looks back at her, she's fuming.

"We start today. Now."