Kurt Eldarion Elessar, Prince of Gondor, launched his mare at full speed, swearing under his breath. Gilraen, filly of the mighty Shadowfax, had been brought to his father as a present for his newborn son and the two of them had grown up together. Her silver white color shimmered through the woods as Kurt hung on to her mane, and hurried her again, slipping elven words of encouragement in her ear. His oak-wood bow and ebony quiver within the reach of a hand on his back, he leaned over his mount's neck from time to time to avoid trees and branches. Kurt had lost the rest of the group and even his usual escort was not following him. His horse was so quick that no other could keep up with her, and so he was used to taking her galloping away from the group once in a while, instead of blandly following all of the others. Except he was now in foreign land, and neither of them had ever been to Edoras, capital of Rohan, situated in the middle of the region of Westerviluin. The prince sighed with relief when he saw the gates of the city, and realized the others had already dismounted, but for some reason Gilraen did not stop, and as everyone entered what seemed to be the Great Hall of the castle, she climbed up the three steps that led to it and it took everything Kurt had to try and calm her down. To his astonishment she crossed the heavy doors and then suddenly stopped dead on her tracks as soon as she had entered the castle, causing knights and lords alike to step back and unconsciously make an honor alley for him and his hot-blooded mare. Kurt stared at her in surprise; even as a wild horse it was not like her to ignore his orders and she had probably just ruined his father's formal visit to the sovereigns of Rohan. And they were known as Horse-Masters, thought Kurt to himself, as if making a fool of himself was not enough… He flushed deeply, and then froze on the spot, unable to move a single finger.
- King Aragorn Elessar II of Gondor and Queen Arwen Undomiel of Gondor, the herald announced in a loud and clear voice.
Aragorn was pissed. And a little worried. Teeny tiny little bit worried. His only son had lost the convoi, and, used to his small escapades with his horse he hadn't paid attention, and now he was missing. He forced himself to calm down and took a deep breath. Then he lost himself in his wonderful wife's blue eyes and walked in. Kurt would find his way. He always did.
They had barely gotten halfway through the long hall when Aragorn suddenly let go of Arwen's hand he was holding, and instinctively reached for his sword, turning back to see what the source of that thundering noise was. Then he released the pommel of his sword, slid the blade he had taken only halfway out back in and sighed deeply. However, the small wrinkles of concern on his forehead disappeared and he seemed to release a little pressure. Arwen noticed it and gently pressed his arm while smiling at him.
His son, a little startled but unharmed, was standing in the middle of the Great Hall. On his horse.
- Ah, Shadowfax's foal, I suppose, the Queen of Rohan exclaimed, well, I guess after what your father did at Minas Tirith you deserve that. You are welcome in our castle at any time… she left the end hanging, looking up at Kurt – Gilraen, he completed quickly, Wandering Star, in honor of my grandmother, he added glancing at his father. The queen tilted her head with grace – Prince Kurt, Lady Gilraen, she said respectfully, before turning to Aragorn and Arwen, who, along with their suite and escort who had been watching the scene, stood there astounded.
From the corner of her eye the queen saw her son, who had looked like he had been struck by a lightning; no, multiple lightnings, suddenly snap out of it and rush towards the horse and the Prince she was bearing, and offer him an arm to help him off of it.
Kurt curbed a pout of disdain, - who does he think I am! – and he took the boy's hand and smoothly and daintily slid off his horse. Now that he was on the ground he could see the young man was a little smaller than him, and was struggling to keep his mouth closed as he stared, smiling blankly. So Kurt, fighting the urge of giving him his signature single raised eyebrow, really looked at the Prince for the first time. Hazel met glasz and they both found themselves unable to move for a while. Neither of them had let go of the other's hand. Wes and David made a timid attempt of approach, and Gilraen ended the etiquette disaster by pushing her rider forward and into Prince Blaine, who caught him a second away from faceplant. They broke eye contact and as he turned back Blaine could see the smirk on Wes and David's face, which announced a long period of teasing, mimicked-swooning and lovey-dovey sarcastic comments.
Dinner was announced a little later, and Blaine was disappointed to learn that Kurt Eldarion would not be attending, and that he had retired to his chamber.
Meanwhile, Kurt was in his room going through his skin-moisturizing routine, taking extra-care in doing so because of the long journey. Actually, it only lasted longer than usual he had gotten lost in thought quite a few times and snapped out of his daydreaming to find his hands hanging in the air and whichever product he was using already drying on his skin. For some reason he could not get a deep shade of hazel out of his mind, and he scolded himself for it. Okay, this guy was very charming in a gentlemanly way, okay his eyes were beautiful, okay his smile lit up the entire room and made you feel like you were the only person in the world, okay the firm grip he had had on his chest when he caught him was… Wow, WOW, no, Kurt's fashion sense screamed the outfit was a little bland, a little… classic – and in his mouth it was NOT a compliment – his common sense resented the crime against hair he had committed by putting – what was it anyway? – that much product on what looked like a faint memory of curls, and his sense of humor nagged that he was a little… short. But Kurt was listening to neither, which was surprising considering the fact that all three of these "senses" were important aspects of his life.
He lay in bed for a long time that night, letting his mind wander, and did not drift to sleep until much later, curled up in a fetal position, dreaming of a charming prince and a world painted in hazel. Mean people looked really stupid in hazel.
In another aisle of the castle Prince Blaine was having the same kind of trouble sleeping. As he plunged himself into a bath of warm water and started trying to take off whatever he had loaded his hair with, all he could think of was the eerie apparition of the day. As he was bracing himself to meet the royal family of Gondor, a splendid silvery white horse had burst into the room, ridden without any saddle or bridle. While Blaine had been taken aback by the sight of that beautiful mount, he was literally nailed to the spot when he saw her cavalier. Perfectly styled chestnut hair, – how did he even did that was a mystery; he had just spent hours riding in the forest! – soft features on a smooth, flawless, creamy white skin… Along came piercing oval-shaped eyes that hesitated between green, blue and grey, a little widened with tension and horror at the situation as of now, but incredible nonetheless. His ears were a little too pointy to be true, indicating his half-even nature, and his full lips were slightly ajar in shock and breathlessness.
He had gotten his father's quiet, grave air and his mother's Evenstar pendant was around his neck. He was wearing very tight black pants and a flowy white shirt with a V-neck and very large puffy sleeves. A silver belt hugged his thin waist tightly and he was wearing knee-high lace-up boots a deep shade of royal blue, with silver embroidery representing boughs and leaves swirling around his legs. A simple silver band shaped as intermingled branches espoused the shape of his head and went down on the center of his forehead where a blue sapphire rested, caged in a nest of twigs.
He was breathtaking.
Blaine, lost in his reverie, was oblivious to the fact that while he could remember every detail about this Prince Kurt, he would have been unable to say a single thing about what happened around him, and had barely paid attention to the King and Queen. Neither did he realize that what was once a hot bath had now turned ice cold, and when he finally emerged dusk had long fallen over the land.
Hello people! Here is the second chapter, tell me what you think of it so far… I have changed the summary because as people very wisely pointed out, it did not reflect the true meaning or style of the story, so here you go. Besides, I myself still do not exactly know where I am going to take this, so we'll have to wait and see… Hope life's good and you don't hate my humble scribbling too much But if you really do, then please let me know – and let me know WHY! - ; again, criticism is very important to me.
Have a nice day!