Chapter 43

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Thranduil was currently in his study, his hands clasped behind his ramrod straight back. His robe of deep burgundy infused with black stitching reflecting his current mood: dark and contemplative.

He stared at the rows of leather-bound tomes stacked neatly on the bookshelf, but he wasn't really seeing the titles, his mind focused elsewhere. The next phase, regarding Charlotte, was going to take some tact and skillful manipulation.

His mind drifted to the sleeping woman ensconced in their bed and he concentrated on their bond, sensing that she was still blissfully asleep, and would probably remain so for a few more hours yet.

Charlotte certainly coveted her sleeping hours – something that had not been altered along with the other changes that she was going through.

He frowned as he recalled the previous night and all the emotions bought on by it. Her menstrual cycle (a term he had most certainly not known anything about until she had explained it to him) was absent or at the very least, slowed down. Thranduil had lived a long life and the ways of humans in Middle Earth were well-known to him. But the intricacies of womanhood amongst them seemed to be a guarded secret, or not talked about at all. How odd that a human woman would bleed every month, and a missing period was a clear indication of pregnancy.

The thought of pregnancy bought a pang to his heart, especially when he recalled the shimmering hurt reflected in her warm hazel eyes when he had explained that they would have to wait. He had not thought about having a child with Charlotte as they were still in the early stages of their relationship, but now the idea had been planted within his very being, urging to bud and bloom to reality.

But for now there were more pressing matters at hand. He should contact Galadriel and seek the answer as to what was happening with Charlotte, but he greatly suspected that she, for all her wisdom, would only state that these changes had been bought about by the Valar.

It was a plausible theory. Maybe they had done it to ensure that Charlotte's transition into the world of elvenkind was more smooth, but these modifications were still disconcerting. Not wholly unwelcome – after getting over her shock and hurt, Charlotte had practically done a happy dance at the prospect of never having a period again. But something niggled at the back of his mind, and it would not ease until he had a satisfactory answer.

A soft knock sounded on the door, breaking Thranduil from his musings.

Turning around, he called out, "Enter."

A moment later Galion strode in.

"Hérion is here, my King."

Thranduil gave a nod. "Thank you, Galion. Before you leave, though, I would like for you to inform Mithrenniel that I will be stopping by later on. Her services are required."

Galion paused at the request, and Thranduil could see the burning question in his warm brown eyes.

Galion was an ellon of a light-hearted disposition – probably the reason he had managed to withstand Thranduil's tumultuous moods all these years. It took a certain kind of personality not to be troubled by the Elvenking's infamous temper, and Galion had just such a temperament. A strong bond of understanding had formed between the two, though Galion never overstepped his boundaries, and it was only because Thranduil considered him a confidante that he deigned to elaborate.

"Yes, it concerns Charlotte, and you may tell her as much."

Galion bowed his head in assent and swiftly departed from the room. A moment later, Hérion strode in.

This ellon, on the other hand, exuded an air of haughty arrogance – something Thranduil was all too guilty of.

"My King," Hérion greeted, his hand curling over his heart as he bowed his head respectfully.

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