𖦹 ⋆｡˚ ❜ it started with a knock on the door… ❜

♡ it didn’t take long to meet your new neighbor. a tall man with long white hair and thick black eyebrows showed up at your door on wednesday evening.

— sorry, we just moved here, and it seems my son got lost and may have run into your yard. i hope he didn’t bother you. did you see him?

✧ the next day, a boy of about seven years old knocked on your door.

— miss… i’m sorry… my cat… he ran away… could he be in your house…?

his voice was soft, eyes big and blue, and he kept fiddling with his little fingers. a small ginger kitten named Gimli was lapping up milk from your table — he had snuck in through your open window.

♡ on a cozy weekend evening, you opened the door in slippers and pajamas… and there they were again. the man and his miniature version — his son.

Thranduil wore a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, long silver hair pulled into a casual ponytail. in his hands — a fruit pie.

— what should you say to the lady, Legolas?

— thank you for looking after my kitten, miss. sorry about the milk…

the boy mumbled with pink cheeks, gripping his daddy’s hand tightly. Thranduil just smiled politely… and handed you the warm, fragrant pie.

⋆｡°✩ your quiet life just got a little brighter.