Another World

Chapter 15

Thranduil sat wide awake in bed, the pillows cushioned at his back as he stared aimlessly at his folded hands resting on his lap. He knew sleep would elude him this night as memories of the day's events ran through his mind like a torrential river.

Admittedly, his thoughts centred solely on his little human companion. Shame and guilt washed over him as Thranduil recalled his outburst, as well as the stinging words that he had flung at Charlotte. He could not erase from his mind the abject hurt that simmered in those mesmerising warm depths of her eyes, or how she bit at her bottom lip to stay the tears that threatened to spill as she suffered his wrath.

Thranduil was manifestly aware that he had reduced many to tears over the course of his long life with his cold and scathing remarks. He was the king of the Woodland Realm, and ruling a kingdom was no easy task; sometimes he was forced to rule with a firm hand. There was no room for soft-heartedness, especially when reprimanding someone about a wrongdoing. Not that he was without compassion or feeling, but as a king he could ill afford to show any weakness.

But he had instantly regretted the cruel words he had inflicted upon Charlotte, though his volatile temper would not allow him to back down. When he had stormed off, his disgust had been more at himself, and he knew he had to leave before the situation became irreparable.

But why had he said those things in the first place? Thranduil sighed deeply. He had been truthful when he had apologised to Charlotte and told her that it hadn't been about her. It had, instead, been about him.

Thranduil prided himself in keeping a level head in most situations. Though, admittedly, his temper chose to rear its ugly head once in a while. Well, more often than he cared to admit. But since meeting Charlotte, something had shifted and changed within him. These feelings that were developing were toeing well past the line of mere friendship and companionship, delving into something more deep rooted, and he felt absolutely helpless in halting them in their tracks. She was like a bright beacon that guided his soul out of the murky and dark night that threatened to overtake him.

But every time he was tempted to cross that line with her, Thranduil was painfully reminded that Charlotte was a mere mortal. Doomed to die a mortal death. Pursuing anything with her would not end well for either of them. He had mentally reprimanded himself numerous times, urging himself to keep his distance, but whenever he was in close vicinity of Charlotte his resolve crumbled to fine dust.

So now he found himself in a constant state of conflict, and it had finally reached a breaking point when Charlotte had fired that weapon. His helplessness at being stranded here, to the stress that Eric was placing on their lives, and his developing feelings towards Charlotte had all finally reached a boiling point. And then there was his humiliation...Thranduil was not one to suffer the fool, so having such an adverse reaction to the gunshot and falling to the ground, unable to hide his fear, had been the final straw. Everything had then conformed together to form a massive ball of fury and he had blindly lashed out at an innocent woman. A woman whom he had come to care very deeply for. This was the part that bothered him the most. These emotions had evolved over such a short length of time that it was unfathomable to him.

Thranduil's apology, though heartfelt, still hadn't felt like enough, though. No amount of words could ever fix what he had broken, and he would forever be tainted with shame and guilt when he looked back on this moment.

Thranduil rubbed at his forehead. How had he let things get so out of hand? For once, he was not in control on either his predicament or his feelings, and this alone was enough the scare him. He knew he really needed to step back and maintain personal space from Charlotte before things got too out of hand, a fact that he reminded himself of for what felt like the hundredth time. Though, by his reckoning, things had already developed well past the point of no return.