Intro:
In the realm of Mirkwood, where shadows dance amidst ancient trees and secrets whisper in forgotten halls, I find solace in the ink-stained pages of this diary. Tonight, I shall weave together words that have long been held captive within my heart—a confession of a love kept hidden beneath layers of denial and pretense.
Love Unspoken
In Denial:
For years now, I have lived under the guise of indifference towards Elrond Half-Elven. But deep down, buried beneath veils of disdain and mockery lies an affection that refuses to be silenced. My pride may prevent me from uttering words unbecoming for a King such as myself; however, even kings are not immune to matters concerning their hearts.
A Forbidden Affection:
How did this forbidden affection first take root? Was it during those fateful meetings between our realms when diplomacy masked desire? Or perhaps it was birthed from shared experiences on battlefields stained with blood—moments when our eyes met across chaos-stricken landscapes?
Whatever its origin may be—this longing for Elrond has taken hold like roots entangling themselves around my being. It is a love shrouded in secrecy—a whispered secret known only by moonlit nights and flickering candle flames.
The Enigma Called Gimli
A Clash Of Worlds:
Gimli son of Gloin—the Dwarf who walks beside Frodo's fellowship—an enigma wrapped in armor forged deep within mountains unknown to me until recently. Our encounters were marred with tension; his gruff demeanor clashing against my regal composure.
To say that I dislike him would do little justice to the intensity burning within my soul whenever he crosses paths with Legolas or myself. Perhaps it is ancestral prejudice clouding judgment or mere pride refusing harmony between races once divided by strife—it matters not—I cannot deny these feelings exist.
A Proud Father's Love
Legolas, My Son:
Legolas—my son, my pride. He is the embodiment of all that I have fought for—a testament to the strength and resilience of our people in Mirkwood. His every breath fills me with an indescribable joy, a love that knows no boundaries.
I watch him grow into his own greatness—a warrior blessed by nature's grace and a heart untamed by darkness. With each passing day, he becomes more than just an extension of myself—he becomes a beacon of hope in this perilous world.
Daddy's Little Girl:
Oh, how Legolas reminds me so much of her—the one who stole my heart long before Elrond ever did. As my only daughter—an ethereal being named Tauriel—she graced our lives briefly but left an everlasting mark upon us all.
In many ways, Legolas is her echo—an echo filled with warmth and light amidst shadows cast by sorrowful memories. My little girl dances within his laughter while whispers from Valinor linger at the edge of my consciousness—a reminder never forgotten.
The Dance Of Shadows
Dwarves And Their Disdain:
Ah! Dwarves—they march through life like boulders rolling down mountainsides—unyielding and obstinate creatures whose presence offends even the most delicate sensibilities.
Their boisterous demeanor clashes against everything refined—and yet they persist in their stubbornness as if oblivious to their inadequacies.
But it would be remiss not to acknowledge moments when camaraderie arose amidst chaos—for battles fought side-by-side can forge unlikely alliances born out necessity rather than affection.
Reflections In Moonlit Waters
Arwen And Her Choice:
Arwen Undómiel—I cannot help but raise an eyebrow at her choice—to wed a mere mortal among men instead of embracing immortality alongside her kin. It is a choice that defies logic—a decision fueled by unruly emotions rather than wisdom.
But who am I to judge? Love, after all, has the power to drive even the wisest of beings toward folly—such are its unpredictable ways.
A Slayful Queen:
In these quiet moments when moonlight bathes my thoughts in silver hues—I reflect upon my existence as Thranduil Greenleaf—the Slayful King of Mirkwood. Yes! I revel in my own magnificence and refuse to be humbled by those who dare challenge me.
I have fought battles against darkness itself; conquered lands and claimed dominion over realms untouched by mortal hands. My every step resonates with regal authority—for within me lies an unyielding sense of pride—one that refuses to bend beneath anyone's gaze.
Epilogue
As ink stains this parchment, it becomes clear—a confession long overdue must find release from the confines of secrecy and denial. Elrond Half-Elven—an enigmatic presence whose allure tugs at threads woven into the tapestry of my heart—it is time for truth to rise from whispered secrets into daylight's embrace.
However uncertain tomorrow may be—I shall face it as Thranduil Greenleaf—with unwavering resolve—and perhaps, just perhaps—find solace in knowing that love exists even amidst shadows cast by our own fears and doubts.
Note: This fictional diary entry or personal blog post was created based on the given character "Thranduil Greenleaf" from J.R.R Tolkien's Middle-earth universe.