Golden hair that shone as if kissed by the very lips of Anor...
" Melpomaen."
Broad shoulders that tapered down to a slim waist, while hips moved seductively from the long strides taken by the strong warrior legs that seemed to glide upon the walkaway with feline grace...
" Melpomaen!."
Wide violet eyes tore their gaze from the window with a startled gasp and a deep blush suffused the young elf's face, as he found himself confronted by his irritated tutor.
Caught. Again.
" Just what is it that holds you so enthralled, pen-neth, that for the third time in as many days, you blatantly neglect your studies to stare out that window, like one bereft of all reason?."
Melpomaen cringed as Lord Erestor, Chief Advisor of Imladris, came around from behind his desk in a swirl of black robes and began walking briskly towards said window like some big, avenging bird of prey.
{ Do not let him see... Saes, do not let him see... } The young elf thought, his heart thumping like a skitterish rabbit.
Those black robes swished to a still, as the equally dark eyes of the fearsome tutor took their turn looking out at the view. The stern Lord stood thus for what seemed an eternity though in truth, only a few moments passed.
" I see..." His cool voice then pierced the tense silence.
The rabbit inside Melpomaen's chest almost toppled over and died.
{ Oh... Nay!... } His mind cried, dismally.
" So... The roses are coming into bloom. I must say, Melpomaen, that I find your sudden absorption in this area of botanical interest to be most...surprising."
Erestor turned his piercing gaze back towards his charge, who was staring at him with an expression akin to that of a dumbfounded deer. Keeping his somber miem, though it cost him some effort, the Lord continued.
" I have always encouraged my pupils to pursue a variety of interests. But I must insist that from now on, you keep your questing young mind firmly on the studies at hand, when in this room. Understood?."
" Y-yes, my L-lord."
" You may go to the library, on your own time, and borrow any one of the many books we have dealing with the fascinating studies done in the field of botany."
" Botany?..."
" To help you learn more about the blooming cycle of roses."
" Roses?..."
" Aye. Roses."
At That, the cogs in the young elf's normally smooth-running mind kicked back into gear and Melpomaen finally managed to make a cohesive reply.
" Thank you, my Lord, for granting me permission to take a book out of the library. I humbly ask your pardon for my inattentiveness and I assure you, it will not happen again."
" Indeed."
Erestor let his stern gaze linger for a moment longer, insuring his pupil's proper contrition, before turning his eyes towards the ornate hour-glass perched upon one corner of his desk.
" Our time is almost up. You are dismissed for today, Melpomaen, though I believe your other tutor is expecting you later."
Once again, two spots of color crept upon the young elf's cheeks, as he clumsily began to gather his books and parchments into his student's sachel. With an equally clumsy bow, Melpomaen then took his leave, hastening away as fast as his nervous disposition allowed.
As soon as the door to the study clicked shut, Erestor returned his now pensive ebony gaze to the window. Despite his earlier words, the dark advisor had been fully aware of what had captured his pupil's attention, for his sharp eyes had caught a fleeting glimpse of a strolling figure, just as it rounded out of sight.
{ It seems that young Melpomaen has, at last, entered into Fenneth... } He thought, a rare smile crossing his face.
That smile suddently turned bitter, as painful memories threatened to resurface, but Erestor firmly refused to acknowledge their existence and a moment later, his face once again re-settled into it's customary expression of cool reserve. Sparing no further thought towards his departed charge, the advisor walked back to his desk and settled in to tackle the afternoon's workload...
On a different wing of the Last Homely House, another door clicked shut as Melpomaen leaned back against it, his violet eyes gazing vacantly at the contents within his modestly-sized, but beautifully-appointed personal quarters.
His breath was begining to come in stilted, shallow pants and those eyes now closed in embarrasment, though there was no one there to witness his discomfiture. He tried to control his breathing, he tried to control his mind, he tried to control his body, all to no avail. With an inarticulate cry, somewhere between a moan and a curse, he tossed his sachel onto a chair and then staggered towards the bed, flopping ungracefully upon it. This newly-aquired discomfort grew in length, until the young elf tossed his arm over his eyes with a defeated groan. He had only a short time before he was due to meet with his other tutor and he had to...
He had to...
Melpomaen's eyes closed once more, behind the shield of his arm and his neck arched back, as his other hand slid inside the waistband of his leggings...
TBC...