It was Wednesday evening and Charlotte currently found herself once more in the basement enduring yet another gruelling training session with Thranduil. Tonight he was being considerably stricter and more onerous than usual, and as Charlotte hunched over, clutching her knees for support as she gasped desperately for air, she was fairly certain that this was a tactical maneuver on his part to sap every ounce of energy from her so that, when she crawled into bed with him tonight, she wouldn't try anything...naughty.

The last few nights had involved heavy kissing and illicit caresses that left her utterly breathless and yearning for more as their bodies molded in heated entanglement. But, as always, Thranduil had halted before it could progress further – much to her consternation. The sexual tension, as well as the lack of some form of release, was really getting to her, and if she had to wager a guess, it was affecting the great Elvenking as well. He was coiled as tightly as a wound-up spring, and as he paced the room issuing pointers and critique, Charlotte could practically feel the agitation roiling off of him like a buffering wave.

"You're getting sloppy in your attacks," Thranduil remarked as he strode from one end of the room to the other; his hands clasped behind his ramrod back, his jaw set in a hard line and his eyes glinting like shards of glass as he scrutinised her from afar.

"That's because we've been at this for nearly two hours. I'm exhausted," Charlotte snapped, swiping away a damp strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail from her flushed face.

"That's no excuse, Charlotte. Push past the weakness you perceive in yourself and strive for improvement."

Charlotte muttered a few colorful words in response and knew he had heard by the way Thranduil suddenly stilled and glanced over his shoulder with a look of mild disapproval.

Charlotte straightened with great effort, her muscles screaming for reprieve, and placed her hands on her hips.

"Did you personally train Legolas?" she enquired.

Thranduil turned to face her full on with liquid grace. "Legolas received tutelage from some of my finest warriors and when he was ready, I continued with his training."

"The poor sod," Charlotte muttered.

Thranduil tilted his head to the side, his eyes focussing dangerously on her. His utter stillness, paired with the intensity of his gaze, suddenly made her feel very nervous at her slip of words.

"What was that, little one?" he asked, his rich, deep voice coming out as a danger-laced growl.

"Nothing," she quipped, her voice going high pitched.

His electric blue eyes narrowed into icy slits and then he abruptly turned his back on her. Charlotte let out the breath she had been holding, cringing when it come out as a whoosh.

"Now I want you to try and attack me. And do try to at least get in a hit this time," he remarked in a derogatory tone.

Charlotte groaned and dropped her head in defeat. This is what she had been trying to do for the last two bloody hours, and each and every time Thranduil had blocked her punches and kicks as though he were merely swatting away a bothersome fly. She hadn't landed a single blow, and this frustration, paired with the sexual tension brewing between them, was coming to a head in epic proportions.

There was no way she would land a strike, not after nearly all her energy was sapped, so she thought: what the hell!

Charlotte charged full tilt and flung herself at the Elvenking. Thranduil turned around at the last second and caught her swiftly in his arms. Charlotte blinked in startled surprise, finding her legs wrapped around his slim waist and her hands clutching his shoulders. She slowly raised her gaze and her breath hitched when her eyes locked with his. In those swirling blue depths was an undercurrent of predatory intent and she suddenly realised there was no escape. Not that she wanted to escape, but the look in his eyes let her know that she was very much his prey.

Thranduil was silent for a few moments as he stared down at the female ensnared in his clutches, and he finally broke the weighted silence. "I am curious as to what you intend to do next?"

Charlotte gave him a sheepish grin. "Actually, I have no idea. I didn't expect to get this far."

His lips brushed against her ear, sending shivers of pulsing desire coursing through her body, and Charlotte was painfully aware of his slender fingers digging into the flesh of her inner thighs as he held her, the heat level ratcheting between them.

"You only got this far because I let you," he murmured.

Charlotte drew in a shaky breath. "Question is, how much further are you willing to let me go?"

Thranduil pulled back deliberately to stare down at her, his luminous face now guarded and unreadable. "Depends...how far do you want to go."

Emboldened, Charlotte answered. "All. The. Way."

Thranduil's alabaster features remained expressionless and closed off. Charlotte would have automatically assumed that he was unaffected, except she noted him swallowing hard at her declaration. She waited for his response with bated breath, the seconds ticking by in a painfully slow pace. Would he kiss her and finally take the next step, ending the unbearable tension building up between them like an incessant ache that begged to be soothed? Or would his impenetrable will power come to the forefront and deny her once again?

Charlotte wasn't surprised when Thranduil placed her back on the floor and he took a step back, his hands clasped behind his back once again as he regained his composure.

He stared at her for what felt like an eternity before finally speaking up. "I understand that you and I come from different worlds; worlds where certain viewpoints differ, Charlotte."

Charlotte frowned. Thranduil had such an eloquent way with words, but sometimes she wished he would just be direct and say what he really meant.

"And what viewpoint are we talking about?"

"The intimate kind."

Her brows furrowed even more. What, exactly, was his point?

Seeing the confusion flooding her features, Thranduil said, "Go and take a shower, Charlotte, and afterwards we need to sit down and talk."

Charlotte suddenly felt nervous. The phrase 'we need to talk' always sent her mind careening into an abyss of fear, for bad news always crested on the horizon with those words.

But she gave a nod and left the basement, her heart pounding in her chest as she went upstairs to take a shower.

Charlotte entered the living room dressed in a thin strapped black top and dark grey yoga pants. She had made a half-assed effort to dry her hair with the hairdryer, and now the frizzy and spectacularly bushy results were swept back in a ponytail. She often cursed whatever gene she had inherited that decided to give her thick, unruly hair and tonight was no exception.

She paused in the archway, marvelling at the lone silhouette of Thranduil as he stood statue-like at the window, a glass of wine clutched in his hand and a contemplative look painting his features. He was still dressed in black jeans and a cotton navy blue shirt that moulded deliciously against his form.

"You wanted to talk?" Charlotte asked, picking anxiously at her thumb nail.

Thranduil glanced over his shoulder and stared at her for a beat, his face not yielding any answers. Then he strode towards the coffee table with long and purposeful strides, pausing to pluck the other glass of wine from its surface and held it out expectantly for Charlotte to take.

Charlotte stepped into the room and took it from his proffered hand, raising a questioning brow at the fair elf.

"That bad, huh?"

"Contrary to what you might believe, no, it is not bad. I noticed your apprehension earlier on and I thought some wine might settle your nerves."

Charlotte took a sip, the taste sharp and fruity on her tongue. She brushed past Thranduil and sat down heavily on the sofa, tucking one foot under her as she took another sip of wine. She watched over the rim of her glass as Thranduil came to sit beside her, practically oozing confidence and composure as he took a measured sip from his own glass and angled his lithe body so that his attention was fully on her.

Charlotte waited for him the break the silence that had descended upon the room. Her heart was hammering so loudly that she was certain his elfy ears could detect it. But if he heard it, he made no comment.

Thranduil reached forward and tenderly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, warm affection alighting his features as he did so, and Charlotte felt herself relaxing under his familiar caress. There was nothing but honesty and love radiating from the freakishly handsome elf, and soon her previous concerns melted away as she gazed back at him.

Thranduil lowered his hand, taking her colder hand in his own and lifted their entwined fingers to place a kiss on the back of her hand.

"I know I have not been here very long, Charlotte, and that our relationship has developed very quickly. Too quickly. Yet, I find that I would not want it any other way with you. In fact, I feel that, at times, it is progressing slower than what I would like." Thranduil paused. "But..."

Uh-oh. The infamous 'but'. Charlotte watched apprehensively as Thranduil thought over his next words carefully, and she used this opportunity to take another sip of wine.

"From what I have observed on the television, I have come to the conclusion that the humans of this world do not view the act of lovemaking the same way that elves do."

Charlotte sat absolutely still, so many thoughts running through her head: the main one being that this was why Thranduil was being so hesitant to take the next step with her. Did he honestly think that she would view sex with him as just...sex?

Thranduil studied the unnatural stillness that had overcome Charlotte; there was not even a nervous fidget that she usually resorted to. Finally, she blinked and met his gaze.

"And how do elves view it?"

Thranduil took a long sip from his glass before answering. "We view it as a moment shared between a couple who love each other dearly and who are dedicated to one another. It is a moment that holds great meaning and veneration. It is the ultimate declaration of love."

"And you think that us humans are not capable of expressing such emotions? Is that what you think? That I'm incapable of loving you and making love to you with the same degree as what another elf would?"

"What I am saying," he said slowly and pointedly, "is that I know you are eager for our relationship to progress to the next stage. As am I. But our union should be a moment born of love, not a meaningless act."

Charlotte was silent for a few moments. "Do you really think it would be meaningless to me, Thranduil?"

Thranduil blinked in surprise; the truth of her words washing away any doubt he may have harbored.

Charlotte stood and placed her glass on the table and ran her hand over her face. "Look, I get it. You want to wait until the moment is right."

Thranduil watched her with a guarded mask. Humans were notorious with their quick tempers, as well being unreasonable. It was difficult to gauge how Charlotte was going to react right now, even though he had her pegged as being good natured. Though, in his many years, he had found that it was always the small ones who were the most explosive.

"I'm scared as well, Thranduil, especially of how fast everything is going. But somehow it feels right."

Thranduil quirked a smile: this comment he wholeheartedly agreed with.

Charlotte came to stand in front of him and plucked his glass from his hand, placing it next to hers on the coffee table. Then she returned, and before he could react or protest, she straddled his lap and gently cupped his face between her hands, the look on her face fierce and unyielding.

"It would be a moment born of love, as you so perfectly put it, because I do love you, Thranduil."

Something warm and almost crippling in intensity squeezed his heart at her words. Charlotte slowly lowered her head and brushed her lips against his in a featherlight kiss that spoke of her unwavering declaration of love, before pulling back.

"But the moment and setting doesn't have to be just right, Thranduil. Our time together will be perfect in its imperfection...because I will be making love with the one I love."

Thranduil felt as though he couldn't breath. Her words spoke of a profound truth and wisdom that he could not ignore.

"I'm talking about you, in case you're wondering," she stated with a cheeky grin.

Thranduil smiled softly at her, his hands coming to rest on her hips, trying hard to ignore how thin the material of her clothing was as their bodies pressed together in intimate places. "How did you get so wise, meleth nîn?"

"You're so going to have to teach me Sindarin."

"And give you the tools to figure out my secrets? I think not!"

"I already know your secret of getting up at night to raid the freezer of the ice cream. You, Mister, have a sweet tooth," she stated, flashing him a tongue-touched grin and poking him in the chest.

Thranduil grinned unapologetically and watched with disappointment as she scooted off his lap.

"Talking of ice cream, do you fancy a sundae?"

"Does it consist of ice cream?"

"You bet it does," she enthused, her eyes sparkling merrily.

Thranduil stood up, taking her hand in his own. "Then I am certainly not opposed to trying it."

Fifteen minutes later the two were sharing a sundae, which Charlotte had abundantly loaded with chocolate sauce. Thranduil had put up no objection to this as his sweet tooth really did favor the taste of chocolate. Another thing he would miss when he returned to Middle Earth.

As they laughed and joked, and even spoon fed each other the ice cream treat, he felt he could stay here for all eternity with Charlotte. His heart had firmly settled here to stay with her, but something was coming. Something dark and unstoppable that would put a black stain on their lives. Thranduil could not deny this premonition, but for now he endeavoured to get lost in this perfectly imperfect moment with the woman he loved. For this is where he belonged: by her side.

It was now Friday afternoon and Charlotte was currently at the department store picking out an array of pajamas (no elf ones this time) for the Elvenking. After this expedition she needed to stock up on groceries. There was currently a storm warning in place and a major snowstorm was to hit this evening, and she wanted to be prepared in the case that they lost power for the next few days. She was thankful that her boss had let her off work early to make preparations, as she really didn't want to be driving back home in the dark when it hit.

After picking up the necessities, Charlotte stopped at a restaurant and ordered some food. She was determined to have a romantic date with Thranduil tonight and seeing that she could not take them to a fancy restaurant, she would have to make it a special evening at home.

When she arrived home, she was unsurprised to find Thranduil absent. He had probably gone out for a walk, as he was not expecting her home early today. Charlotte set about unpacking the groceries and then placed his new pajamas on his bed.

As she entered the kitchen, the door flew open, sending in a flurry of thick white flakes and Thranduil stepped in with haste. He absently brushed the snow from his cloak and paused when he saw Charlotte in the archway, watching him.

"You're home early."

"I bagged a half-day due to the storm coming in."

"Yes, it is getting a bit perilous out there," he replied, taking his cloak off and hanging it on the coat rack.

"Did you have a good walk?"

"As good as any. I didn't come across any elks to place in my servitude," he said wryly.

"Hmm, you might have better luck finding a moose out here."

His features lit up at the thought. "That thought holds merit."

Charlotte shook her head in good humor and strolled further into the kitchen. She picked up the crisp white box waiting on the counter and handed it to Thranduil, who took it with a brow raised in question.

"I would like for you to dress up in this tonight for dinner, please," she said.

"What are you planning, little one?"

"Just a romantic dinner. I, uh, thought you'd look really great in this."

Thranduil stepped forward, his scent washing over her and making her unable to think of anything else but him. She was suddenly achingly aware of how close he actually was.

"Then I think it's only fair that you dress up as well," he stated in a seductively husky tone.

"Oh, I plan to."

A smile quirked on his lips. "I look forward to it," he said, gently pressing his fingertips under her chin. Charlotte felt the familiar flutter in her stomach as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against hers in a chaste, yet intimate kiss. Then he straightened, his eyes twinkling wickedly and without another word, he left the room with a flourish.

Charlotte drew in a steadying breath, her body aching for his touch. She had never thought that a chaste kiss could make her feel as weak-kneed as what a passion-fuelled kiss could, but somehow Thranduil managed to elicit the same reaction from her either way.

Charlotte blinked out of her stupor, realising she had to get ready. She hastily set the table and lit the candles, and even remembered to place a bottle of wine in the ice bucket. Knowing that she didn't have much time, Charlotte grabbed her own box from the counter and bolted upstairs to get ready.

Thranduil came downstairs, noting the emptiness that pervaded the living room and kitchen. Charlotte must still be getting ready, he thought to himself. He noted the romantic setting laid out on the kitchen table, along with the lit candles and the dulcet tones of the soft music playing in the living room. Ah, she even remembered the wine! He smiled fondly to himself. His little spider really was trying, though he did send a silent thanks to the Valar that she hadn't decided to cook.

Thranduil stalked to the living room, noting the thick flakes of snow now coming down as the storm started to increase, blanketing the land in a swirling frosty white quilt. Charlotte, in preparation for the storm, had asked him this morning to collect some firewood from the shed and place it by the fireplace. At least they had the option of fire for warmth if the power went out. Electricity...he still could not wrap his head around this technological marvel, though, admittedly, he had grown quite used to the conveniences that this world had to offer.

The soft click of heels alerted him to Charlotte's presence and Thranduil turned around to greet her.

Words instantly fled him at the ethereal sight before him, and Thranduil felt his jaw literally go slack.

Charlotte was wearing a crimson red lace dress that stood out beautifully against her pale skin and bought out the dark brown of her hair. The sleeves reached just above her elbows and were off shoulder, exposing her delicate collar bone in a sensual manner. The flowing skirt of the dress brushed against the floor, and Thranduil thought he glimpsed a pair of red stilettoes peeking from under the delicate material. His eyes slowly travelled up, noting that she had tamed her hair into soft waves that caressed those invitingly bare shoulders, and atop her head she wore his circlet!

Thranduil blinked in surprise at the sight, though he could not deny that he rather loved the way it looked resting on her head. The Queen to his King. Thranduil sucked in a sharp breath, for this revelation was unexpected. Yet, now that the idea had seeded in his mind, he realised that this was exactly what Charlotte was to him. His Queen. His heart.

Charlotte, for her part, stopped dead at the sight of the elf before her. Thranduil was dressed in the midnight black suit she had bought him, the color contrasting magnificently with the pure silky white of his hair. The crisp white dress shirt peeked from under the jacket, buttoned all the way to the collar, though she noted that he was currently missing the tie. Her eyes roamed lower, taking in the sight of the pressed black slacks that fitted him to perfection, paired with shiny black shoes. Charlotte, when she had purchased the suit, had had an inkling that it would look absolutely divine on him, but the reality was far exceeding her expectations. He was the very picture of elegance and poise, grace and regality. Exquisite in every possible way.

Something caught her eye and she noted the silky black tie dangling from his fingers.

"Couldn't figure out how to do the tie?" she teased.

Thranduil snapped out of his daze and glanced down at the offending item in his grasp before turning his attention back to her. "I can't say I have ever had the displeasure of coming across something as complex as this," he stated, unable to mask his perplexity and distaste.

Charlotte strode forward in a vision in red, an amused smile playing on her (thankfully lipstick-free) lips. "Here, let me." She pulled the tie free from his hand and reached up, turning up the collar of his shirt. Charlotte worked with nimble fingers to secure the tie around his neck and Thranduil watched her all the while with an unblinking gaze, his body resolutely still as he tried to concentrate on anything but her body pressed against his as she worked. The delicate scent of jasmine filled his senses and he knew he needed a distraction before his hands wandered of their own accord and he decided to forego dinner altogether.

"Have you spoken to Carl lately?"

Charlotte, her brows furrowed slightly as she concentrated on the task at hand, replied, "Yeah, I called him again today. He told me he was fine and to stop bugging him, and that if he wanted a mother figure in his life, he would dig up his mother's remains."

"Sounds like something Carl would say."

Charlotte chuckled. With the tie now finally secured in a neat knot at his neck, Charlotte dropped her hands to her side and took a step back, her appreciative gaze raking over him.

"You look mighty fine, if I do say so myself."

"And you look absolutely breathtaking, Charlotte Amelia Wright."

Charlotte quirked a brow. "Should I even ask how you know my full name?"

"It was scribbled on one of your notebooks. I believe the subject was Science." A sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You, my dear, were not a particularly gifted student with regards to that subject."

Charlotte pulled a face. "Yeah, I'm not going to deny it. I hated Science."

Suddenly the lights flickered, and Charlotte lifted her gaze to the ceiling, waiting for the dreaded moment when the power would fail completely. A few seconds later they were both bathed in inky darkness.

Charlotte sighed in the gloom and said, "Well, I guess the date is over before it even began."

"I wouldn't say that," Thranduil remarked, and she heard him rummaging around in the pitch-black room. Soon a blazing fire was cracking in the hearth, the orange and red flames licking greedily at the logs stacked within, casting a dim, but warm light within the room.

Thranduil straightened and turned his attention to Charlotte, pausing at the sight. The glow emitting from the fire cast her silhouette in a fiery radiance, making her seem like an ethereal creature born from the flames, and he felt utterly spellbound at the beauty that was simply Charlotte. The fire that would consume him...

"Thranduil?" she breathed out.

His name on her lips, especially uttered in reverence, is what sent him off the precarious edge he was standing on, sealing his fate.

He closed the distance and cupped her head between his palms. He saw his own hunger reflected in the burning depths of her hazel eyes, and he knew this was a hunger he could deny no more.

This was his last shred of coherent thought as his lips crashed against her own, eager to devour and consume her with a blazing intensity he hadn't known he was capable of.

Tonight, they would surrender themselves to the fiery inferno of their passion.

A/N: A special thanks needs to go out to Raider-K for inspiring the scene with Thranduil in a suit, and for pointing me in the direction of an artist on Deviant Art by the pen name of mformadness, who has some really phenomenal pictures up of modern Thranduil. Be sure to check them out.

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