Charlotte made her way upstairs to Thranduil's room, the offending pajamas still clutched in her hand. She stood awkwardly outside the closed door and deliberated whether it would be a good idea to knock. Thranduil might still be peeved about her little joke. It had definitely been worth it at the time, but now she was going to have to deal with the aftermath (and maybe his wrath), and it was something she found she was not looking forward to. Charlotte speculated whether she was going to face the volatile and conceited King, or the spirited and teasing elf?

Charlotte sighed, knowing she was going to have to face the music, and tentatively knocked on the wooden door. "Thranduil? Do you want to come out and have some lunch?" There was no answer to her query, so she continued. "Are you still mad about the pajamas?"

One, two, then three seconds stretched out and Charlotte was about to leave when the door opened wide. Charlotte froze, her jaw dropping at the sight before her.

Thranduil was dressed in a black button down dress shirt with silver buttons, the top two buttons left undone and revealing a glimpse of a pearly white hairless chest. Her eyes slowly travelled down and Charlotte noted that he was wearing faded blue jeans that fit perfectly in all the right places. Thranduil was currently barefoot, but Charlotte barely took note of this in her daze; it was like her brain could not fully comprehend what she was seeing. Charlotte didn't think that Thranduil could look any more gorgeous, especially in modern clothing, but she was certainly being proven wrong at this very moment.

A smug look crept on his luminous features at her stunned reaction, and he lifted his hand, pressing his fingers under her jaw and forcing her to close her gaping mouth. All Charlotte could do was blink wordlessly at him in her stupor.

"I take it from your reaction that this outfit suits me quite well." His electric blue eyes twinkled in delight and his smile slowly stretched to reveal perfect white teeth.

Charlotte let out a croak, common speech having suddenly fled her. She was standing before him gawping like a fish out of water. "Just...just give me a moment. I think my brain went on the fritz."

The smug look returned as he stared down at her, and Charlotte suddenly realised how close he actually was. She thrust the pajamas towards him. "Here's you pajamas."

A scheming look crossed his features before he shoved the pajamas back at her. "You can keep it."

Charlotte frowned. "But you need pajamas for bed," she argued as she tried in vain to return them, but Thranduil stubbornly refused to accept them.

Thranduil lowered his head and Charlotte gulped, her throat suddenly dry when she felt his hot breath flutter over her face. "I'll simply sleep in the nude."

For the second time in a matter of seconds, Charlotte's jaw dropped in her absolute shock at such a declaration. Her eyes widened and she felt the heated blush wash over her skin. No, Charlotte! Get that thought right out of your filthy mind this instant! We are not going there!

Her eyes flickered to his face and noted that Thranduil was grinning mischievously as he straightened and stepped back, his hands clasped behind his ramrod straight back.

"Careful, Charlotte," he warned, his voice dropping an octave and causing her to shiver. "Don't play a game you have no hope of winning." With that parting remark he strode past a flustered Charlotte.

As she stared at his retreating form, too flummoxed to even appreciate the way his jeans clung to him, she murmured, "It would help if I knew what game we were playing."

She threw the pajamas on the bed in a last ditch attempt to get him to wear it, and followed after the Elven King.

Charlotte set the pizza box on the coffee table and grabbed a cheesy slice before plonking herself down on the sofa. She had managed to find the Hobbit trilogy, the first of the series currently in the DVD player and waiting to be played.

Thranduil leaned forward in his armchair, his silver hair falling around his face like a gossamer curtain, and picked up a slice before sniffing it with suspicion. His eyes flickered with uncertainty at Charlotte, who was happily biting into the triangular mess. He curled his lips back in distaste - not at the food itself, but rather at the way he was being forced to eat it. Did humans have no culture and choose to eat with their hands like animals?

"For God's sake, just take a bite!" Charlotte snapped in exasperation. "If you go through life looking at everything with such distaste, you're going to miss out on a lot of enjoyable things."

Thranduil raised a supercilious brow in her direction. "And you think that I'll enjoy this?"

"You won't know until you try it," she pointed out before taking another bite of her pizza, the cheese stretching like elastic strings and causing Thranduil to grimace at the sight. Such manners!

Thranduil gave a resigned sigh. "If I must." He bit into the slice of pizza and chewed thoughtfully, his palate exploding with the different texture and taste. He glanced around for a napkin, and realised with mounting horror that he was going to have to lick his fingers clean!

"So? What do you think? And if you say 'edible', I'm going to kick you in the shins."

"Edible," he replied back drily.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him and the playfulness returned to his face once more at her ire. He would just love to see her try and kick him! He would have her pinned to the floor quicker than she could ever react...

Charlotte rolled her eyes, knowing that he had fully called her bluff, and she picked up the remote to play the movie.

Thranduil settled in the armchair and watched with rapt attention as the tale of Bilbo Baggins flashed before his eyes. The movie eventually came to an end and Charlotte stood to put in the next disc.

"So, was the movie fairly accurate," she asked with her back turned to him.

"More or less," Thranduil replied vaguely as he eyed the pizza box and was slightly disappointed to note that it was empty. By his calculations, Charlotte had only eaten two slices. So that meant that he had eaten the rest. Either he had been ravenous, or it was better than he cared to admit.

Thranduil's attention turned back to Charlotte. Her movements were graceless, yet he found he could not help but study her with open curiosity. Charlotte lacked finesse, but he had to admit that he found that all her little quirks were somewhat endearing. And her ability to blush at every given moment was just too much for him to pass up the opportunity to cause it. He rather enjoyed seeing her skin flame with her embarrassment.

Thranduil blinked. He really should stop toying with this human. She would only grow to despise him if he carried on, and he really did want to keep on her good side. His thoughts drifted to the pajamas and he felt the corners of his lips twitch up. It seemed that his companion was also rather fond at poking fun at him just as he was prone to do with her.

"So this is the next movie. This one gets to the part about you and Legolas."

Thranduil's attention snapped back to the present and his face became serious at the mention of his beloved son. "Legolas? What is my son doing in these movies?"

Charlotte looked uncomfortable at the shift in his mood. "Um, he's a fundamental character, especially in the Lord of the Rings series."

Thranduil's dark brows drew down in consternation. "What?"

Charlotte started fidgeting. "Legolas joins the Fellowship in their quest to destroy the Ring."

Thranduil's brows shot up as understanding hit him like a massive blow from a mountain troll. Charlotte was talking about the Ring. The One Ring to rule them all...

Charlotte realised her blunder and she visibly paled. "Shit! That hasn't happened yet." Charlotte snatched up the remote and paused the movie that was just starting. "Maybe it's not a good idea showing you these. Having too much knowledge of future events could be catastrophic and all. It could cause a paradox! At least that's the theory in Doctor Who anyway."

"What?" Thranduil asked. By the Valor, Charlotte was making absolutely no sense whatsoever, and that was saying something! Thranduil shook his head. "Never mind. I don't think I want to know."

Charlotte stood in front of the television fidgeting nervously in her discomfort.

"Play the movie, Charlotte. I don't think there's any harm in me knowing what is going to transpire."

Charlotte didn't seem to assured by his words. "But if you know what's going to happen and you try to change things when you get back..."

Thranduil stood and came to stand before the wide-eyed female, his full height towering over her more diminutive stature. She really is a tiny little thing, Thranduil mused as he clasped Charlotte on her slim shoulders. Charlotte visibly flinched and Thranduil inwardly cringed that she still was not fully at ease around him.

"Charlotte, I am old enough and wise enough to know when to interfere and when not to interfere. Trust me on this. I am as cautious as they come."

Charlotte puzzled at his words and she blurted out, "How old are you, Thranduil?"

Thranduil dropped his hands to his sides and lifted his gaze to stare at the ceiling as he thought about the question. Elves did not reckon time and age the same way that humans tended to, and he really had to think about it.

"That old, huh?" Charlotte supplied when he had taken a bit too long to answer her question."

"If my calculations are correct, my age would be close to seven thousand," he replied, returning his attention to her.

He could see the shock seep in her hazel eyes as they widened spectacularly at this information. Charlotte blinked and sat down heavily on the sofa as she mulled over his response.

"How old are you, Charlotte?" Thranduil enquired as he, too, seated himself in his armchair. If she were going to ask personal information, then he felt justified in firing them right back at her.

"Twenty-eight."

Thranduil kept his face a neutral mask, but Charlotte must have glimpsed something in his eyes, because she asked, "What?"

"You really are but a child."

Charlotte shook her head and let out a humorless chuckle. "Compared to you, yeah. You're ancient!"

"Seven thousand is not that old for elves."

"If you say so, Grandpa."

Thranduil scowled darkly at her.

"So how old is Legolas then?"

"About two thousand years old."

Charlotte gave a low whistle. "Wow. In my teen years I was crushing over a two thousand year old elf. Talk about an inappropriate age difference."

Thranduil's head snapped up at her remark. Was she implying...? No! Not possible!

"And how could you do such a thing when you have never met my son?"

Charlotte gave an amused shake of her head. "Not at him, but rather his character in the movie. You look remarkably like Lee Pace's portrayal of, well, you. It's a safe bet that Legolas looks like his movie counterpart as well."

"I'll be the judge of that," Thranduil remarked drily.

Charlotte gave him an imperceptible look at his swift change of mood, but lifted the remote and played the movie without another remark. Thranduil sat silent and unmoving for the whole two hours. Inwardly, he was seething. Is that really how they chose to portray him? Is that what Charlotte really thought of him? It certainly explained her nervousness around him.

The movie ended and Charlotte went to replace it with the third and final DVD. She turned at looked at him expectantly. Thranduil was resting his cheek against his palm, a not very impressed look on his face.

Finally he remarked, "Is that how you view me, Charlotte? As some arrogant and cold hearted, gem-greedy King?"

Charlotte gaze softened. Then she came to sit at the end of the sofa and took his hand in her own. "No, that's not the way I view you, Thranduil. You, just like everyone else, have many aspects and ranges to your personality. I have glimpsed the arrogance, yes, but I have also seen a playful, teasing and considerate side. I think there is more to you than meets the eye."

Thranduil blinked and glanced away, not wanting Charlotte to see the relief he found in her words.

"Are you okay?" she gently probed.

"Yes," he replied. After a pause, he begrudgingly admitted, "And I will concede that the physical likeness is quite uncanny with regards to the characters."

Charlotte grinned, and Thranduil wondered if she was thinking about his son, Legolas? Something churned inside of him, but Thranduil couldn't put a name on this odd feeling.

"How about I make some popcorn and we watch the third installment?" Charlotte asked, standing up and stretching. Her shirt rode up to reveal a slit of her pale belly and Thranduil hastily glanced away. Humans and their lack of propriety!

His gaze, instead, lingered on the pizza box and he secretly craved another. Charlotte caught the longing on his face and grinned down wickedly at him.

"Ha! I knew you liked the pizza!"

"Only because it's fractionally better than your cooking," he retorted.

Charlotte just shrugged off his insult. "Just wait until you try popcorn."

Fifteen minutes later Thranduil found himself seated with a huge bowl of this puffy white stuff that she called popcorn. Halfway through the movie, Thranduil glanced down and realised with a start that his bowl was half empty. This stuff was indeed good! Not that he would ever admit that to Charlotte...

His eyes wandered to his human companion and noted that she was currently asleep, her head tilted back and resting against the couch. Her mouth was hanging slightly open and soft snores could be heard coming from her. Thranduil felt a warm smile tug at his lips and he placed his bowl on the coffee table before standing and heading to the kitchen to retrieve his cloak from the coat rack. He returned and draped it over the blissfully sleeping Charlotte and went back to his chair to finish the movie.

Many things about the movie didn't settle well with him, and he pondered if Charlotte was right in the fact that having too much foresight about future events could cause major problems. But his curiosity was getting the better of him and he went to crouch by the T.V cabinet to search for the Lord of the Ring movies. As he pulled out the cases, his eyes lingered on the image of his son and he tentatively traced the outline of his face. Will I ever see you again? His heart ached at the thought that he might not be reunited with Legolas ever again and be doomed to be stranded here for all eternity.

"What was the deal with Tauriel?"

His head snapped up, her sudden question having completely startled him. Charlotte stared back at him with enquiring eyes as she clutched his cloak to her body. Thranduil had a sense that she quite enjoyed snuggling in it.

Thranduil glanced back down at the case in his hands and thought about Charlotte's question. "It wasn't that I disliked Tauriel, or that I did not want her and Legolas to be together. But their feelings weren't real. She did not truly love him, and Legolas was more enamored than anything else." Thranduil paused. "When you experience a love so pure and true, it is indescribably beautiful and nothing else can compare...I witnessed none of that with Tauriel or my son."

Charlotte stared at him. Thranduil didn't have to voice it and neither did she: he was vaguely referring to the love he had shared with his wife. A wife who had been cruelly taken away from both him and Legolas.

"I'm sorry,' she whispered.

Thranduil gave a nod. He knew full well as to what she was offering her condolences for, but he had neither the will nor the heart to dredge up such memories. So he simply stood and put on the next movie.

An hour later, Charlotte was curled on the sofa sound asleep, his cloak draped over her. Thranduil paused the movie and went to stand by the window, becoming deeply lost in his thoughts as he stared out at the pitch black night. Stars blinked feebly and clouds currently obscured the cold light of the moon.

Thranduil leaned his forehead against the cold glass and closed his eyes tightly as emotions welled up inside of him. He had to get back home. He didn't know if his soul could survive being trapped in this world that was so foreign to him. The worst part was there was nothing he could do. He was not in control, and thus helpless, and this disturbed him. If he had no control over the situation, then he was as good as doomed.

His eyes snapped open when he felt slim arms encircle his middle and a soft cheek press against his back.

"We'll find a way to get you back, Thranduil," she murmured sleepily.

Thranduil was grateful that she could not see the glimmer of tears that welled up in his eyes, and he laid his hand on top her overlapped ones. Right now, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Charlotte was his anchor and he was going to have to place his trust in her hands.

"I hope you're right, little one. I hope you're right."