Feigning Diamonds (A Thranduil Fanfic)

Chapter 1: Moonstone

"Fix your eyes on perfection and you make almost everything speed towards it." -William Ellery Channing

**Year is 2992, Middle-earth time, fifty years after the events of the Hobbit**

Not a day goes by that Thranduil is not haunted by his past of Idriel and how he broke her. He loves Legolas dearly, but he cannot help but wonder what would be different if Idriel had never left.

Unfortunately, in the years that have passed, Thranduil has not heard one thing from Idriel, and Legolas' mother has died. Thranduil and she had rushed to marry after Legolas' conception, despite not being in love.

This is what he thinks about when he is alone: the disaster he never thought his life would experience.

"My lord, I have received a letter."

Thranduil snaps out of his reverie. "From whom?"

"It comes from Aeldyn, my lord," the elf responds.

Thranduil perks up. "Who gave it to you?"

The elf looks ashamed. "I do not know. I fear I fell into slumber, and when I awoke, it was at my feet."

Thranduil is too interested in the letter to care about the elf's mistake. He slowly descends from his throne and takes the letter. The paper is thin and white as lightning with a signature Aeldyn colored ribbon tying it in a scroll. Thranduil unties the purple decoration and unrolls the letter.

To Thranduil, Ruler of the Woodland Realm, and any elf he wishes to confide in,

It is to my great dismay to announce that the king of Aeldyn has passed on. Months ago he was wounded in battle, and it seemed to have been infected, much to our ignorance. According to tradition, his daughter Idriel is now to be Queen of Aeldyn. Her coronation will take place soon.

Best wishes,

Aeldyn Messengers

Thranduil remains calm in the presence of another, simply re-rolling the scroll and tying the ribbon. He hands it back to the elf. "Destroy this."

The elf nods and bows, disappearing to do the king's wishes.

Thranduil walks to the entrance doors to speak with the guards there. "Ready my carriage. I am making a short journey."

The guard nods and bows like the one before.

The ride to Aeldyn is agonizing. Thranduil does not get nervous, but he is not sure about seeing Idriel again. He has to see her now that she's going to be queen of someplace that is not, unfortunately, Mirkwood (it is common courtesy to congratulate an elf who has risen to the status of power that you are occupying).

Aeldyn resembles somewhere of a dream: everything is glass held together by an unseen element, a spell, Thranduil guesses. Anything that is not glass is solid white, almost silver.

The carriage stops in front of the fortress. The doors are white, obviously, to keep unwanted eyes ignorant. The walls have been claimed by vines and branches, successfully blocking the glass. Thranduil never approved of this structuring; it's too vulnerable.

The guards let him in and guide him through a long hallway to the throne room, departing once they open the doors.

Most of the furnishing is white, and the throne screams extravagance. It is glass, but stained glass, and pointed shards border it that reflect light like the sun. Idriel stands at its base, waiting for Thranduil to reach the landing.

She speaks first. "The tables have turned, I see. Now you are the one coming to see me."

"The crown will suit you, Idriel, and I have come to give my condolences and congratulatory words."

"Thank you. It has been a long time, Thranduil." If she has changed at all in the past half-century, it is only for the better. She glows brighter than ever.

He nods once. "Too long."

"You have not aged a day," she notes.

Thranduil smiles, remembering another time when she spoke the same phrase. "And time seems to be in reverse for you." She smiles back, and Thranduil falters at her radiance, but thinking of her like this brings back his worst memories. "I also find it strange that the people of Aeldyn are consentient with being ruled by a hybrid."

And just like that, the mood sours.

"At least I do not plan to rule under the title of harlot," she says with venom, her smile vanishing almost instantly.

Thranduil ignores this for now. "Go on, tell them how your father was a noble elf, but your mother was a wretched skin changer that got slaughtered for it. I'm sure they would not mind, or do they already know?"

"If my people fear being ruled by a Halfling, I will happily send them back to their home," Idriel says smugly. "Do you really expect them to leave here, somewhere they are happy, to go back to somewhere they were not? I know that the people here loathed Mirkwood or Rivendell, and whose fault is that? Partly yours. After all, you rule with a secret; why am I not permitted to? I do not fear the truth, Thranduil. That is something about us I find dissimilar. Are you still haunted by memories past?"

Thranduil is fuming on the inside, but calms the dragon and keeps his balance and composure. "I will not protest against you. I recognize that my people were not happy, and I have done my best to make it the opposite. Whether you believe me or not is your decision. Congratulations on becoming queen, and I am sorrowful for your loss."

With all being said what needed being said, Thranduil bowed slightly, almost mockingly, and left Aeldyn, knowing he would return.