"Would you care to take a walk with me?" Thranduil asked, his rich and deep voice piercing the contented silence that now permeated all around them, save for the uneven breaths of its occupants.

Charlotte glanced up at him, her cheeks beautifully flushed, and she blinked a few times trying to focus on his words. Thranduil understood fully – he, too, was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the warm and pliant woman he held beneath his hands. But there was much he wanted to discuss with her before he let their relationship progress any further. And he did, indeed, want to take things further with her. Their kiss had only been a taste of what could be, and fuelled a desire for more. Much, much more.

A sudden shyness seemed to envelope Charlotte and she mutely nodded in agreement.

Suddenly a loud growl sounded from her stomach and Charlotte glanced down at mortification at the offending body part. Really? You had to do this now?!

"But first, I think some breakfast is in order," Thranduil stated, amusement written all over his luminous features.

Charlotte glanced back up at him, her face red from embarrassment. "Um...yeah. I think that might be a good idea." Not only were her legs conspiring against her, but now her belly as well. "What would you like me to make you?"

His grin instantly vanished and alarm now washed over his features. "No, no. That's quite alright. I'll make breakfast," he said hastily.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him. "Honestly, I'm not that bad of a cook."

Thranduil merely arched a thick brow, his silence speaking volumes.

"Fine," Charlotte said in defeat. "If I'm really that terrible, maybe you should teach me."

"I could try, but I know a lost cause when I see one, Charlotte." He flashed her a playful grin that made his eyes twinkle with a blazing light that illuminated his whole face, before swiftly departing from the room.

In rare moments like these, when he let the mask fall, Charlotte could fully see the warm, carefree and playful ellon Thranduil was capable of being. There was so much more to him than met the eye beneath those many layers of icy and haughty indifference.

Charlotte shook her head, quite used to his teasing by now. It seemed her cooking would always be the brunt of his jokes. Not that she could blame him – she really did hate cooking and it showed. She sighed and decided to go join him in the kitchen.

Charlotte was perched on the counter, her legs swinging idly as she watched Thranduil make pancakes to a golden perfection. He moved with a dancer's grace, so elegant and hypnotic that it was not hard to be captivated by his movements and finesse.

Her stomach gave off another growl and Charlotte reached for the jar of peanut butter. She twisted the lid off and scooped out a glob with her finger. There was nothing better than eating peanut butter straight from the jar.

"What are you doing?"

Charlotte glanced up to see Thranduil eyeing her with what could only be described as mild disdain mixed in with a dash of perplexity.

"Eating peanut butter," she retorted defensively. She held her finger out to him in invitation. "Want some?" she asked innocently.

Thranduil merely stared back at her, his left brow slowly rising to form a perfect arch.

Charlotte shrugged. "More for me then."

She popped her finger into her mouth and sucked the peanut butter off with more gusto than was necessary. She stilled when she noted the darkened look color his eyes and she released her finger with an audible 'pop'.

Thranduil closed the distance, coming to stand between her legs and placed his hand on the counter on either side of her. Charlotte stilled, her heart beating frantically in her chest.

"I think I shall sample a taste," he said, his voice low. Then he captured her lips in a smouldering and intense kiss that left her feeling decidedly lightheaded as his hands pressed against her back drew her flush against him. His tongue darted out and Charlotte willingly parted her lips, granting him entrance, all coherent thought leaving her as their tongues danced sensuously as they tasted each other.

Thranduil was the first to pull free from the kiss and he stepped back looking decidedly suave and unaffected. "Delicious," he stated, the corner of his mouth twitching as he battled to contain his mirth.

Charlotte sat motionless (and maybe a bit cross-eyed) with her mouth hanging open.

"Breakfast is ready," he stated cheerfully, snapping her out of her stupor. Charlotte blinked. What else could he do with that tongue? She flushed spectacularly, which only caused Thranduil's grin to widen, as though he were reading her thoughts.

Charlotte hopped off the counter, landing on unsteady legs and made her way to the table, studiously refusing to meet his gaze. Thranduil sat opposite her with agile grace and started piling his plate with pancakes, the sticky syrup seeping into the spongy delicacy. There was a bowl of freshly cut fruits, which he generously sprinkled over his breakfast.

Charlotte watched him over the brim of her mug as she took a sip of tea. What was going through that pretty head of his right now? How could he act so cool and unaffected when she was almost a blubbering mess after that searing kiss?

"May I ask you something, Charlotte?" he abruptly enquired as he sliced through his pancakes

"Um...sure," Charlotte hesitantly replied. It was hard to read his expression, especially when he wore his mask of indifference and she was uncertain which way the question would go.

Thranduil chewed his mouthful of food and swallowed before placing his knife and fork down on the plate and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

"What does your name mean?"

"Huh?" Charlotte had been expecting something more...serious. "What do you mean?"

"In the common tongue, my name translates to 'Vigorous Spring'. And Legolas' name means 'Green Leaf'. I was curious as to the meaning behind your name."

"Oh," Charlotte breathed out, visibly relaxing. "Well, I was actually named after a character in a book called 'Charlotte's Web'. It was one of my parent's favorite books."

Thranduil tilted his head to the side, curiosity alighting his features. "And was the fictional Charlotte anything like you?"

Charlotte grinned wickedly. "Actually, Charlotte was a spider!"

Thranduil's eyes widened and then he actually let out a hearty laugh. "Then you would fit in perfectly in Mirkwood, my little spider."

Charlotte groaned. "You're incorrigible."

Thranduil's eyes sparkled in merriment, but a shadow passed through his heart. Would he even be able to bring Charlotte back to Middle Earth with him? The answer, unfortunately, lay with Galadriel, and if he knew her well enough, she would not be forthcoming with any answers.

After breakfast, Thranduil and Charlotte dressed for the brisk outdoor weather and made their way to the tranquil spot overlooking the lake, Thranduil's bare hand entwined with her own gloved one. He had foregone the winter jacket and was wearing his heavy cloak, the charcoal grey material flapping around his feet and the red underlining flashing every now and then like crimson blood. Charlotte sensed that he wanted to take her to this spot for a reason, but try as she might, she could not fathom out why. And it was making her a tad bit anxious. She didn't think that Thranduil regretted his actions – he had said as much and his actions at breakfast proved the truth in his words. So...what did he want to talk about? The suspense was killing her.

"Do elves ever get cold?" she asked, more to break the silence, but it was something that had been nagging at the back of her mind for a while. Thranduil always seemed unaffected by the chill.

Thranduil glanced down at her, his unblinking gaze boring into her. "Yes, we do feel the cold, Charlotte, but not to the extent that you mortals do. We tend to be more resilient when it comes to the outer elements."

"So you guys have a high tolerance for just about everything and are deadly warriors. You know, I'm starting to think that elves, if they really put their minds to it, could take over all of Middle Earth."

Thranduil cut his gaze to her, amusement showing plain on his face. "I daresay we could, but we prefer peace above all else."

"Well, that's good. Because I doubt if humanity would ever stand a chance if elves got it in their heads to become dark overlords."

"No need to worry, Charlotte. We prefer conquests of the more...pleasurable kind."

Charlotte's head snapped in his direction. She couldn't tell if Thranduil was teasing or not, as he was staring straight ahead now and not bothering to elaborate further on his comment, but she swore a shadow of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, so indiscernible that it could almost be missed. Yeah, definitely teasing. Surely elves weren't...adventurous like that, were they? Though, if Thranduil's subtle (or not so subtle) flirting was any indication, then yes, elves were definitely adventurous in that department.

They reached the rocky ledge and Thranduil released her hand as he sat down, his knees slightly bent.

"Come sit with me, little one," he said, extending a long fingered hand in invitation. This time there was no hesitation on Charlotte's part and she willingly plonked herself down between his legs. Thranduil wrapped his arms around her like a security blanket and drew her close to his chest, his chin resting on the crown of her head as they stared out at the dark reflective water. Charlotte breathed out a sigh of contentment. Being ensconced in his arms just felt perfectly right, and she revelled at the safety his arms offered.

"I feel that I must address a misunderstanding, Charlotte," he started, his deep voice reaching down to the very core of her body.

Charlotte held her breath. Uh-Oh. This did not sound good.

"I think it is time I offered you an explanation regarding my wife."

This was a topic she had not been suspecting, and Charlotte bit her bottom lip. So Thranduil had sensed her jealousy then. She took a deep breath and twisted around in his arms enough to gaze up at him. Thranduil kept his arms locked around her body, staring down at her with a mask of neutrality.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the distinct impression that you think I still harbor feelings for her."

Charlotte stared back at him nervously. "Um, well...yeah." She took a deep breath and decided to explain herself. "I know, or at least understand from what I've read, that elves love more deeply than a human and that when they marry, it's for life. I assumed the same would be true of your marriage."

Thranduil glanced back at the lake, a faraway look in those cold blue eyes. "Usually, yes. But my union with Calemir was that of an arranged marriage."

Charlotte openly gaped, shocked to her very core. "What?!"

Thranduil turned his attention back to her and Charlotte noted the sadness that seeped into his eyes. "Being of noble blood, I had very little say in the matter, Charlotte. Our union bought together two houses, and one could even say that it was formed from the necessity of a political alliance."

"That sounds...horrible."

The corner of his mouth quirked up, though there was little to no humor on his face. "It was not ideal, I'll admit that much, and I could have been a better husband." Thranduil paused and gazed down at Charlotte with an unreadable expression. "Calemir was an exceptionally beautiful elleth, her emerald eyes being very much her name sake." Thranduil noted the puzzled expression written on Charlotte's face. "Calemir, when translated, means 'Green Jewel'."

"Ah," Charlotte said in understanding.

Thranduil rubbed his hand absently against her arm. "Even though she possessed great physical beauty, Calemir never seemed tainted in spirit. She was pure of heart; very kind and soft-spoken. She deserved better than to be bonded to me." The last part was stated with a bite of bitterness.

Charlotte's brows furrowed together. "I find it hard to believe you were cruel to her, Thranduil."

"No. I was never cruel, but I was indifferent and only showed her a cold front."

"But that must have changed. You two, after all, had Legolas."

Thranduil continued to stare out at the scenery before them, his face a stony façade; unreadable and unreachable. Charlotte thought he was not going to answer, but then he spoke again.

"It is true that I did not love her in the beginning. I detested that I was now forced to be bonded with someone not of my choosing and someone I did not love. But over time...that changed. Her inner beauty shone through and her gentle ways broke through my icy walls and I came to care very deeply for her, enough to actually view her as my equal and my wife." Thranduil blinked slowly, still refusing to meet her enquiring gaze.

"After Legolas was born, I started to view her in a different light. She had born me a beautiful son and she had nothing but love and patience for Legolas. The feelings I had for her slowly started to morph. Calemir was the mother of my chid, after all, and I would do no less but to show her kindness and love."

Charlotte swallowed hard. This tale would take a very dark turn, as she knew that Calemir had been viciously tortured and killed in Gundabad. She really hoped Thranduil would not go into details about that part.

Thranduil suddenly glanced at her and Charlotte felt her heart race at the intensity of his gaze.

"I am not telling you all of this to hurt you, Charlotte. I am telling you so that you will understand."

"Understand what?" Charlotte whispered.

Thranduil lifted his hand and traced his fingertips over her cool cheek, tenderness shining through his features.

"I loved my wife, yes, but the feelings I once harbored for Calemir are pale in comparison to what I feel for you, Charlotte. Believe me when I tell you that I do not give my heart freely." Thranduil leaned closer. "How you managed to capture mine is beyond me."

"That makes two of us," she murmured, causing Thranduil to crack a smile.

He closed the distance and captured her lips, their lips slowly molding together in a delicate, yet passionate dance of intimacy. He cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss, their lips parting as they sought to taste and savor each other.

There were so many emotions being poured into their intimate act that it almost overwhelmed Charlotte, but she could distinctly discern the truth and sincerity he was conveying, and it eased her troubled mind. She could not help but respond in kind, knowing that he had truly and fully captured her heart.

Later as they made their way back to the house, hand-in-hand and talking with comfortable ease, neither noticed a shadow concealed amongst the trees surrounding the far end of the property.

Eric lowered his binoculars, his lips curling in a cruel and deadly snarl and his eyes glinted with murderous contempt as he observed the pair entering the house.

Charlotte found herself on her back, and it certainly wasn't in the way she wanted either.

"Concentrate, Charlotte," Thranduil instructed, extending a long fingered hand to help her to her feet.

"I'm trying, but you you're freakishly fast."

"And you are too slow," he countered as Charlotte now stood before him, strands of hair escaping her hair tie and her cheeks flushed from exertion.

"Now I'm going to come at you again and you're going to block my attacks, just like I showed you," he instructed in a no-nonsense tone.

Charlotte grumbled under her breath and took her position in the middle of the basement again. She felt she was improving, only finding herself flat on her arse eight times out of ten instead of ten times out of ten. She highly suspected that Thranduil was going a little easy on her today, though her aching muscles contradicted that silly notion.

Thranduil turned and faced her, his whole body radiating with coiled tension as he prepared to launch into another attack. They were currently practising hand to hand combat, and it was proving just as disastrous as sword fighting.

"Ready?"

"No."

Thranduil smirked. "Would you like for me to go easy on you?"

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. "You're up to something."

His grin widened, showing those cute dimples. "What makes you say that, my little spider?"

Charlotte groaned at his now favorite term of endearment. "Why the hell did I tell you that story?" she muttered. "But you are up to something. You're never nice during training."

Thranduil started stalking towards her like a cat about to pounce its prey, and Charlotte hastily backed up, her back hitting against the wall. Thranduil was instantly upon her, pinning her arms above her head as his body pressed against hers.

"I can be very nice, Charlotte," he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below her ear. Desire shot through her and Charlotte gasped at the sensation, her body yearning for more.

Suddenly Thranduil stepped back, breaking contact, and if the wall hadn't been holding her up Charlotte would have crumpled to the floor. "But you first have to block at least one of my attacks."

Charlotte scowled darkly at him. "You play dirty, you know that?"

"That I do," he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away. "Now back into position."

Charlotte stood in the shower, the water pelting over her tired and sore muscles. Thranduil had been no easier on her than before, but now he was adding in dashes of teasing of the intimate kind. And, quite frankly, she was frustrated. Her body was a constant needy ache every time he touched her, and his methods of seduction weren't helping much to quell those flames.

Charlotte switched off the water and stepped out of the tub, half-heartedly admiring her freshly shaved legs. Honestly, being single was so much easier. Single...Charlotte gulped as the implication hit her full force. She was now entering a relationship with Thranduil, an Elvenking from the fictional world of Tolkien. The whole notion was absurd, but she could not deny that it was actually happening. And to her of all people.

Charlotte shook herself out of her musings. It was still far too early in the relationship to determine anything. Better to enjoy it while it lasted, for she knew (but loathed to admit) that Thranduil would have to eventually return to Middle Earth and she would be forced to remain here. Best not to think about that right now, she thought glumly.

She glanced around and realised with an annoyed groan that she had forgotten to bring a change of clothes into the bathroom. She secured the towel around her and then took a deep breath, quietly opening the door and glancing both ways to make sure the coast was clear. Hopefully Thranduil was downstairs doing something elfy...

She made a bolt for her room just as Thranduil stepped out of his bedroom. Charlotte barely had time to register what was happening before she collided with the solid expanse of his chest, and would have fallen back if his arms had not caught her, pulling her securely against him.

Charlotte swallowed hard, her palms pressed against his chest and slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

He stared down at her, his features unreadable, though there was no mistaking the darken look that shadowed his penetrating gaze.

The silence stretched between them like an elastic band and finally Thranduil asked, "Is this the part where I profess that I wasn't looking?" A teasing smile played on his lips and Charlotte flushed as she recalled the memory of his first night here when she had fallen into the bathroom to be greeted by the sight of Thranduil wrapped just in a towel.

"I really wasn't looking!" she squeaked, painfully aware of how close their bodies were pressed together.

Thranduil's gaze slowly raked over her half-naked form clutched in his arms, searing every contour to memory, before his eyes locked with hers. "And neither was I."

Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!

Charlotte swallowed hard as his hands trailed a scorching path up her bare arms and cupped her face between his palms, his face so close that their lips were almost brushing against each other.

"You're making it very difficult for me to exercise self-control, Charlotte," he murmured.

Legs shaved – check. Go for it! her mind cheered happily.

"Then don't." This sounded bolder than what she was actually feeling inside – which was a jumble of fluttery nerves.

Thranduil narrowed is eyes marginally and then he stepped back, the distance now feeling like a gulf between them.

"All in due time, little one," he said, dark promise lacing his deep voice and causing Charlotte to shiver.

With great force of will, he turned his back on Charlotte and walked away, knowing that if he had stayed a moment longer, he would have, indeed, crossed that line. Some things were not meant to be rushed into and he wanted the moment when he finally joined with Charlotte to be perfect. But his resolve was quickly crumbling, especially when she was running around with only a towel covering her. Not to mention those skin-tight clothes she wore during training.

Dear Eru! Give me strength! He thought with an inward groan.