The Shadow Walker

87. Messy Politics

The doors swung open, revealing a wide throne room. The outer edges were darkened, while the center was pooled with light, revealing the very definition of grace and poise.

He was the spitting image of Legolas in his coldest, cruelest moments, but crueler. Streams of platinum blonde hair framed icy winter eyes and a painfully beautiful face. His crown of bare, twisted branches rested lightly on his head, and his slender ivory fingers caressed the arm of his throne.

I held my head high as I strode into the throne room. Thranduil's eyes locked onto me as I drew closer, like an eagle watching its prey. I dipped into a deep curtsey and lowered my eyes. "Hail Thranduil, King of Mirkwood." I rose and met his chilling gaze once again.

He studied me, his expression hinting at mirth as he fingered his chin. "Young...so very young. Did you hope to intimidate me, Amariel, Queen Under the Mountain?" His gaze wandered to the Arkenstone. "Your crown seems too heavy for your brow to bear."

I thought through my answer before responding. "I am young, and inexperienced; I know this better than even you. But I also know that the ongoing strife between our nations with do neither of us any good. Therefore I have come, hoping to heal the relations between us."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at me. His eyes flicked to the stone again. "And what might you offer me, O Queen Under the Mountain, that could possibly tempt me to change all or any well-founded opinions regarding your kind?"

I opened my mouth, but didn't know what to say. "...um...peace?"

He laughed. The sharp sound bounced off the walls, echoing, mocking me with every reverberation. "You have peace, little queen—if you didn't, you would be dead."

I scowled. "Elves accuse Dwarves of caring for none but themselves. Yet you sit here, ignorant of all that happens outside your boarders!"

Thranduil stood, towering over me, eyes aflame. "You dare tell me what I do and do not know in my own halls?"

"King Thranduil—"

"You are not even worthy to say my name! Crawl home, little queen; beat another innocent councilor, fight another useless battle. Oh," —he smirked— "you thought I didn't know how you made a desperate power grab the day after your coronation? How you hide who you really are beneath a sparkly crown and a tight dress—you are out of your league; do not insult me with your presence."

I took deep breaths, forcing my feet to stay in place and my expression to remain neutral. He was trying to intimidate me—and doing an excellent job—but I couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble under pressure.

"Even regarding a dragon threat?" My voice was small, but steady.

Thranduil's cutting gaze locked onto mine. "You bluff."

Anger flared through me. "My people lost everything to Smaug. I would not cry wolf so lightly, nor would I underestimate the seriousness of the situation, or how dearly Imrid would love to burn our corner of Arda." I glanced around. Most of the castle seemed to be carved out of stone, but a good deal of the interior decoration was wood. I raised an eyebrow. "When's the last time you had a good rainstorm?"

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Tell me of this alleged threat—how did it come to be?"

I scoffed. "Oh please. I thought His Fabulousness knew everything?"

"I don't," he snarled, lowering himself to his throne once again. "By the Valar, I don't understand what goes through that empty scull of yours."

I snorted. "Trust me...I don't either."