A/N: The picture above is just how I had imagined Hérion to look like :)
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Her heart hammered in her chest like a herd of galloping horses as they approached the looming doors that towered over them, tall and imposing. The gleaming wood represented the only physical barrier that stood between her and certain doom.
Okay, maybe she was being a bit melodramatic, but still...
She gulped, dread washing over her at what lay beyond. A sliver of golden light peeked out from under the doors, deceptively warm and inviting. And if she strained her ears Charlotte could detect the soft, dulcet tones of stringed instruments playing, permeating the room beyond with a harmonious ambience. Blending in with the music was the sound of laughter and muffled voices. Lots of voices. Voices belonging to the inhabitants of the Woodland Realm that she was not ready to face just yet.
You have no choice. This is your life now. These are to be your subjects...
Charlotte faltered at this thought. Her subjects?! She could barely keep a houseplant alive! How was she supposed to rule over elves; beings that were infinitely wiser and, not to mention much, much older than herself? Ridiculously older...
"What is going through your mind, little one?"
Startled out of her internal ruminations, Charlotte snapped her attention to Thranduil. He stood beside her looking cool and collected; completely unfazed as though none of this bothered him.
And why should it? Thranduil's probably been doing this for a few thousand years, give or take a couple of centuries. He's a pro by now.
"I just realized how underqualified I am for all of this."
Thranduil shifted to face her, his hold on her hand firm and reassuring. His touch kept her grounded, settling her jumbled thoughts and racing heart. He raised his free hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking idly along the smooth contour of her cheekbone.
"Yes, that you are."
She scowled at his lack of reassurance, but he continued before she could retort.
"Not one of us is ever fully prepared for such a role, Charlotte. Do you think that I excelled when I first became King?"
"Yes," she answered immediately. "You're practically perfect in every way. Remember?"
The corners of his perfectly shaped mouth twitched. "Well, I concede that I am now."
"Modesty, Thranduil. Modesty," she said with an accompaniment of an eye-roll.
His grin widened, but then he shook his head. "On the contrary, I made many blunders and mistakes – some of which I paid the price for dearly." He searched her eyes with a dead seriousness that made her still. "I did not, and still don't, expect you to slide into the role of Queen with unhindered ease. All will come with time and practice."
