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.
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