In your Eyes: In your Eyes
This room was the common infirmary where the slightly wounded and those recovering were housed to enable them to gather strength from each other’s presence. In that way, they were distracted from the inevitable dark thoughts plaguing the weakened mind. Of course, the more seriously wounded or ill were placed apart, in smaller and more intimate rooms, where they could rest in silence and let their souls conciliate with the new situation their bodies were in until they were judged strong enough by the healers to join the cheerful ambiance of the common room.
But, today, there was no gleeful company to joke with. The beds were empty, save one, their shining white sheets carefully tucked, their friendly mellow pillows seeming to wait for heads to rest upon them. All those who had been there had been sent back home for the night after having sworn not to exhaust themselves and to come back on the morrow. The room was quiet, the silence occasionally disturbed by rustling robes of a healer crossing the place with light footsteps.
On one of the numerous beds in the room lay Elrohir, his back comfortably resting on the feather mattress as he stared at the ceiling, his uninjured arm bolstering the nape of his neck. For long hours he deliberately ignored the one seated at the edge of the bed. Elladan. They had not spoken since the elder twin had entered the room. It was then their father took his leave, requesting Elladan stay with his brother until it was time to prepare for the feast. It could have been hours, it could have been minutes, the younger twin did not care. He had, on purpose, refused any attempt of conversation made by his brother and had continued to stare at the ceiling with unseeing eyes.
He withdrew his attention from the vast white ceiling when someone slowly opened the door. Leaning on his elbow, he straightened himself to be able to see the newcomer, hoping that his father had returned to allow him to escape this silent room and, above all, his brother, whom he had decided to stay angry with until the beginning of the celebration. Elladan might be his elder, but only by five minutes. He had no right to pamper him like a babe. What were five minutes to a being who had lived two thousand years? Elrohir grew weary of his brother's constant vigil, and was determined to prove it was not necessary.
Well... At least, he would try...
He expectantly watched as the door swung open on its hinges. A lithe figure appeared in the doorframe and to Elrohir, it was as if a ray of light had entered the room. His breath caught in his throat and he froze, not daring to avert his gaze lest the beautiful creature before him disappeared.
A rush of blood in his veins made his heart restlessly beat, noisily pound in his chest like the fast hooves of an untamed colt running in the wild. A wave of heat unexpectedly overwhelmed him, eliciting a delicious shiver the length of his spine. He felt the slight quivering of his hands and was unable to stay the movement but he did not care. He was too absorbed by the swirling emotions in his mind. He became oblivious to the world around him. Oblivious to the constant pulsing of blood in his temples, or of the anger toward his overprotective brother. He was even oblivious to himself as his attention was completely focused on the elf that had entered the healing room.
His subjugated sight did not catch the weariness in the visitor’s stance. Neither did he see the stained bandage upon his arm, the torn travel clothes, and slightly dishevelled hair. He did not see all these details because his attention was drawn elsewhere, completely attracted to the fair and pale features of the unknown visitor. Never in his long life had he contemplated someone so beautiful and so proud.
His heart beat furiously in his chest when he realized the fair stranger was staring back, pinning him to the bed where he lay.
Elrohir tried to remember how to breathe as the cerulean gaze sought his own. But soon, it did not matter anymore, as he suddenly found himself locked in a pool of blue sea, lulled there by a flickering sparkle in the piercing and knowing gaze.
Indeed, all that mattered were the two pairs of eyes locked together in a speechless conversation.
He had forgotten his brother, his injury and the celebration. Everything that had had some kind of importance in his life a few seconds ago did not matter anymore. His present and his future were revolving around those bewitching blue eyes. It seemed to him that he would never get enough of that sight. Yet, it did not seem wrong for him to stare so openly. It felt too good to be wrong. It felt like peace and turmoil, like ice and fire. It felt like himself. It felt like home.
There was perfection in that instant...
Then something changed, and it took his breath away. This pool of blue shadow changed, as if a veil had been mercilessly stripped away. Elrohir never knew that peering into one's eyes could reveal so much about someone. Those eyes were no longer clouded, but became a window into his soul. In this unguarded gaze, the younger twin saw many things: fear, pride, shadow, light....many contradictory elements that composed the essence of this fair being's soul.
How long did they stare at each other? It could have been hours, but truthfully, it had been only seconds, not even enough time for Elladan to notice. Elrohir did not realize this, for he was floating in a dream world where time held no meaning. This world held only a color of deep blue... filled with emotion.
Regretfully, he felt himself brought back to reality when someone spoke. It took him a moment to realize it was the healer who broke the spell. His eyes were no longer locked in that mysterious ocean, and the feeling of loss overwhelmed him. Desperately he tried to reestablish the connection, like a drowning person fighting to breathe.
"If you would follow me, my Prince..."
My Prince...
He failed to comprehend the meaning of those words as they echoed in his ears, swirling in an explosion of contradictory notes.
My Prince...
The blood in his temples seemed to give rhythm to the words, like a mad overexcited drummer.
My Prince...
He watched as the lithe figure moved to one of the private rooms and a wave of heat overwhelmed him. A wave of powerful lust and yearning. He felt an irrational need for complete possession. The need consumed him, taking hold of his body and his mind.
My Prince...
He lay again on the soft pillow, his raven hair spread around his face, his arm under his neck in the same position as before, and he resumed his contemplation of the vast ceiling. He breathed deeply, relishing the cool sensation of the air filling his lungs. This time, upon the immaculate white of the ceiling, the ghostly image of beautiful blue eyes looked back at him.
My Prince...
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