Brightest Stars | Love of Royals: Book I

XII: The Queen's Diary

There have been too many blissful days. It's too quiet. Granted, I thoroughly enjoy spending time in Thranduil's chambers, talking to him, talking to Gelya... but I can't help but remember the conversation I overheard between Thranduil and Legolas. I'm in danger. Or at least I would be if I wasn't safe inside the heart of the kingdom. Something's surely happening outside, even if no one in here can see it.

I've been left alone for a couple of hours, meaning I could settle in one of Thranduil's plush armchairs with a stack of books on the table next to me, and immerse myself in other worlds until the King returns. He knows how much I adore his library, so much in fact I secretly wish I had joint custody of it.

A few books in, I come across one that differs slightly from the others. It's locked, with an ancient metal fastener holding it closed, which I immediately open in a surge of curiosity. It just so happens that I've found a locked book in Thranduil's personal library... I can't just ignore it now, can I?

The worn leather cover has faded from the vivid scarlet colour it once was, and the pages are clearly tattered with age.  Inscribed all over them are what appear to be diary entries, in jet black ink and in cursive handwriting so pleasing to my eye it wouldn't be out of place on Thranduil's wall of artwork.  At first glance, I assume it belongs to Thranduil, a relic from millennia ago; then I notice the name.

Ellerian.

Queen of the Woodland Realm; ex-wife of Thranduil; the one person we haven't spoken of in all our time of knowing each other.  Though her reign was short-lived, I saw the constant tension between her and the King.  I watched her fade over the years, but for the life of me, I could never figure out why.  She was a quiet thing, tending not to speak of her own thoughts and desires, not even to Thranduil.

This book could be the key to unlocking a piece of Thranduil's past.  I could do it.  I could read this.  I could delve into a secret behind Thranduil's heartbreak... so easily.

My eyes are drawn down to the page, and within seconds I'm swept on through the words.  This is something I cannot fight.

My name is Ellerian, daughter of Anëaras and Lirelin, and I have decided to start a diary. This way I can document my emotions without having to tell them to anyone in person. No one would ever listen to me anyway, not anymore. I feel it's better this way, since I've learned that trust is like walking through a blazing fire. You're going to get burned, no matter what.

I regret so much over the last few centuries. Everything has built up inside me and festered like a disease. All I ever wanted was a child, and since my parents never treated me well, I felt as if I needed to do this.

It wasn't a crime, was it? I only wanted a little elfling of my own. Of course, in the beginning, I wanted my child to have a wonderful, loving father as well. But as I came to realise from experience with ellons, they only care about themselves. They'll break your heart like it's dirt beneath their boots, and if you don't act perfectly for them, you're in for an interesting time.

It infuriates me how other races think we elves are immaculate; always wise, refined, in control of ourselves. If any men, dwarves or hobbits saw what goes on beneath the surface, in the shadows where no one's watching, in the dead of night when emotions are soaring... they would know that we're not all perfect. We're broken, tarnished, flawed—some more than others. We just hide our feelings well for those we do not wish to see them.

I have become excellent at that over the years. Nowadays no one knows what I'm thinking. I've become an enigma. I'm quiet, lowly and clever, three things my husband did not ask for in a wife. He yearned for someone to complement himself. He's ice, and he wanted fire. Unfortunately for him, I'm water. He believes he loves me, but ice could never love water like it loves fire. It craves something that burns bright, and that's not me. There is no passion, no spark, no mingling fury of true love between us. He deserves more than what I can give. Thranduil Oropherion deserves a better Queen.