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Opening Doors
Those heavy wooden barriers are not the only doors that we open in life. A short, sweet story on re-opening the door to friendship, and perhaps discovering more within.
The first door that had ever opened before them was the door to the sitting room of the Royal chambers, when they had first met.
He was the rambunctious young Elfling who had destroyed a grand total of 9 dinner plates, 2 elegant teapots, 3 vases, and who would one day grow up to be the King of Mirkwood.
She was the daughter of a Lord and Lady of the Wood, recently returned from Lorien, whose boyish behaviour her parents despaired.
He was willing to treat her nicely, and even introduced his stuffed fox to her. She, on the other hand, sniffed imperiously and claimed that her stuffed kitten could easily claw his fox to death.
Her parents were horrified, and attempted to apologise on her behalf. His parents were secretly amused at their young son's glaring expression.
Despite the disastrous outcome of their initial meeting, play dates were readily set up for the both of them.
She was nicer to him when she realized that he had easy access to the kitchens (and thus snacks), and had the kitchen staff wrapped around his little finger. He warmed towards her when he learnt that she was distantly related to Haldir, whom Legolas had always wanted to meet.
It was not long before the halls had another little horror to contend with. Where Legolas went, she went trailing behind him, and together, they left a glorious wake of destruction and disruption in their path. And in between little squabbles and scrapes, they formed a friendship filled with the childish wonder of life.
As they passed into the years of adolescence, the doors that had remained open between them began to shut quietly. Oh, they still burst into one another's chambers unannounced, but it began to dawn upon them that there were differences in their lives.
There had been that incident when he barged into her rooms bursting to share his news, only to find her clothed only in her cotton slip, about to step into her gown. Her lady's maid had shrieked and shooed him out of her rooms, while the tips of his ears burned a bright red as he apologized profusely over and over again.
Then, there was the day that she had stumbled upon him kissing an elleth close to their age. The elleth looked away embarrassed, he had stuttered out her name, and she had been mortified, dashing away from the clearing once she got her legs to work. For days after, she avoided him ardently, until he caught up to her and poured honey on her head, initiating a chase which entailed him high-tailing it out of the gates and into the woods, while she ran after him, intent on getting her revenge.
In between such moments, he learnt to knock on her door and await her answer, while she began to understand that his locked doors meant he wanted privacy, and slowly began to accept his friendship with other elleths.
The day that the doors between them shut tightly began the day that she stopped appearing in the woods. Instead, her mother began to educate her in courtly behaviour. She traded in her tunics and leggings for gowns, and her braided hair began to take on more exotic looks.
Thranduil ushered Legolas into the world of politics that governed Elven diplomacy. Instead of greeting the merchants as he ran through the marketplace, Legolas began to practice his smiles and charms and instead greet Lords of nobility and advisors.
As they took the step into adulthood, they now met in the halls and ballrooms, instead of running wildly through the woods. He watched as she was presented to the court, looking slightly uneasy in her finery and heavy circlet, which signified her rank as a daughter to the King's advisor.
She watched as he was swamped by the ladies of court, dancing waltzes and flirting with the many beauties of Mirkwood. And she thought that he looked ever so regal and at ease in his Princely role.
Their conversations dwindled until they exchanged only greetings in the hallways and at dances and festivals. And when he began to address her by her formal title, she too, followed his lead and addressed him as, "Your Highness".
The day that the doors opened again was a day darkened by Fate's dealings. He had been dressing for a council with the King when his chamber doors burst open, and he barely managed to catch her as she bundled into his arms, fingers clutching at her mother's favourite necklace, tears streaming from her eyes.
She buried her head into his chest and cried, while he glanced up and saw her maid, whose eyes were lit with grief and mourning. She shook her head slightly and averted her eyes from her crying charge.
In that instant, he understood and tightened his hold, and she burst out in undignified sobs of grief. As she wailed and clutched at him, he was suddenly struck by the desire to see the wild child once again, the girl who once ran with him in the woods.
In the years that followed, he drew her from her grief, slowly opening the doors that had remained closed for decades before.
When she began to smile again, he was almost surprised to notice that her hazel eyes still held the childhood glimmer of lust for life. Bit by bit, he rediscovered her, and learnt that she still weaved wreaths from flowers, only now she gave them to young girls who wore them in their hair.
He was surprised to discover that her favourite colour was no longer the deep forest green of the woods. Instead, she admitted to favouring soft, demure pastel pink. When he teased her about her tomboy days, she jabbed him with her elbow. As his breath whooshed from his lungs, he was quickly convinced of her ability to hurt him even when in a dress.
He learnt that she had finally learnt to dance a flawless waltz, but preferred to step on the toes of her would-be suitors to dissuade them. And in a moment of honesty, she confessed that she bribed the guards at the gates with her homemade honey cakes to let her ride her mare in the dead of the night.
Two nights later, when she saddled her mare and rode out, she found Legolas in the midst of lecturing the guards about the dangers of letting an elleth ride out in the dead of the night alone. When she hotly insisted on her midnight ride, he had only smiled at her and mounted his waiting stallion, with his bow and quiver upon his back, his double blades at his sides.
They rode past the doors whilst the guards attempted to dissuade their prince from riding out alone, upon which he pointed out that he was not alone, she was with him. She laughed as she urged her mare on, and he was pleased to note that she was still as wild as she had ever been. And she was pleased that he had not outgrown his mischievous, sly ways.
She was ridiculously amused to learn that he still had his stuffed fox, and was merciless in teasing him about it. She was secretly (and ridiculously) pleased however, when he gave it to her, to keep her stuffed kitten company, he had claimed, and it was her turn to blush.
She was impressed by his knowledge about the hall's forgotten corridors, which he said he used to escape the ladies. When she interrogated him about his would-be lovers, he stated simply that he wanted to be able to build a life with his chosen.
And in between the council meetings and afternoon teas with the ladies, they rediscovered each other. They stripped themselves of pretenses and titles, and were content with the other simply as the person that he or she was.
He was courageous that day when he bent on one knee and asked her to marry him, and thus opened a new door to a possible future. She had cried and smiled and said yes! and from that day on, there were no secrets and no locked doors between them.
Until, that is, the day the midwife closed the door of the birthing chamber in Legolas's face, all but pushing him out. With only the muffled curses in the background, the prince of Mirkwood was left to pace the corridors under the watchful eyes of his close friends as he nervously contemplated the impending prospects of fatherhood, as well as all the doors that would open in the future.
Finis