Broken Souls

A Fellow Stranger

Kiera hesitated. Of course, she hadn't expected Thranduil to forgive and forget everything after telling him about Tolkien and his works, but she most definitely had not presumed that he would ask about the gardens again. Had she not distracted enough for that to be out of mind? Apparently not.

"I can't tell you that." She whispered, an uncomfortable feeling clutching her heart as she forced herself to hold his gaze. She remembered clearly how he had reacted the last time she refused to tell him about it, and she did not wish for him to do the same a second time – and she definitely did not want to see her cell again.

"How is that?" Thranduil replied bluntly, his composure - which had gotten more lenient while Kiera had told her the story - now expressing cold displeasure once more. A part of him held no surprise for her disobedience, but he was still frustrated that she wouldn't cooperate. He was split between emotions, unable to determine what he felt for her. He was angry and part of him hated that he had to deal with a cynical pest like her. She had betrayed his trust too many times.

Yet, as he looked her over and thought of when he first laid eyes on her after the weeks she had spent in the dungeons, he felt remorse and guilt for what she had gone through. Her ribs were visible through the thin sheet that was her blouse, and her ruffled hair along with her dirtied skin that once shone like the softest touch only told him that she hadn't been cleansed for a long time. It made his heart ache – a feeling he did not understand.

"It isn't the right time. I would say if I could, but I can't, Your Majesty. However, in the future, when the puzzle pieces fit together, you have my word that I will tell you what happened." Kiera promised, distractedly drawing her fingertip along the edges of her tattoo on her arm. The shattered hand that held onto the other described the situation she was in quite well, but she could only hope that the trust she had built with Thranduil could be restored in the future. This was the first step towards such a goal.

Thranduil had to resist scowling, contemplating if he should throw her back in the dungeons as she clearly needed more time than a few weeks. But no, he didn't want to. She had told him something after all, even though that information was beyond something he could progress. He had a hard time fathoming that she knew of him before they had even met, and to hear that she knew of the future only made her a bigger threat. But still it was... different.

For the first time, it seemed, he had cracked the shell that Kiera so nicely kept as protection and he caught a glimpse of a different side of her. As he watched her, sitting there on his intricate chaise with her dirtied clothes, she was weakened. She still kept up her confident demeanor, that she had proven already, but as she told him her story and gave him her promise, he only found truth in her eyes. She was not lying, and she was not attempting to deceive him. And that was something he had not expected.

"It is good that you have said what you know about this world." Thranduil told her, "But I still demand to know what happened that evening. Since you don't wish to tell me that yet, you will remain imprisoned." He declared calmly, and he saw the despair she was trying to hide in her gaze. When she opened her mouth to protest, Thranduil lifted a hand to show he wasn't yet finished. "But it will not be in my dungeons."

Kiera frowned; her anguish broke for a moment in her confusion. "What do you mean?" She asked and began to ponder of what was worse than the dark cell.

"You will be relocated to a chamber in the royal wing with your belongings and you will remain there until I deem it fit." He said and watched the surprise play over Kiera's face.

She didn't like the idea that she would have to be confined in such a space in however long time he wanted, but she much rather preferred that than a dirty cell. But still she did not trust him. Either he was trying to manipulate her, or he was rewarding her for the little she had told. "Why would you do that?" She asked quietly, hesitant to say or ask the wrong thing.