She launched herself eagerly in the conversation and asked all about where they were going to stay, what her role was going to be and how soon were they going to be in Scotland.
"And here's another piece of news to boost your morale." Imogen said. "Feanor Frazier is in the country right now filming for his next show. Near Glasgow."
Idril stared at her for a moment and then screamed so loud that Imogen was startled. "What happened Idril?"
"Oh my gosh! Feanor Frazier? He is going to be there in Glasgow? Yay!!!" She went with another ear splitting shriek but Imogen was ready this time so she didn't flinch. Instead she started laughing.
"Yeah, should have seen that coming. Most of the girls go like this whenever his name is mentioned. Didn't know you were this big a fan though."
"Oh, I am totally crazy about him. Can we meet him Imogen, please, can we?"
"Idril, you sound like a child. Of course we can meet him." Imogen replied, turning into a lane. "At least we will try to. There are lot of crazy fans like us. They will be waiting to meet him as well in the shooting spot."
"You mean to say that you are a fan too?" Idril asked.
"Hell yeah. We will go together." Imogen stopped the car in front of their hotel and turned towards her with a twinkle in her eyes. "And we are going to a selfie the first chance we get."
"Yes! Just seven more days, baby. And then, here we come!!!" A second later, the valet approaching their car was startled by the twin shrieks of the girls inside.
Their first meeting was exactly like a scene taken out from a movie. The ever present mist parted and Feanor got his first glimpse of Idril. A vision in blue, he had to blink twice to ascertain that he was looking at a real person, and his eyes weren't playing tricks, conjuring her up from his subconscious mind. God! She looked exactly the way he had described her last night. He rubbed, actually rubbed his eyes in order to see well. The mist obscured his vision again and he waited with bated breath to see if she was still there when it parted. She was. Her face seemed to be glowing with an extra ordinary light, her dark eyes alight with life and laughter. Her nose was straight and she wore a very sexy nose ring. His eyes travelled lower. Her lips were pink and full. And so, so sensual that just looking at it made him want to taste it. The wind blew a stray lock across her face and his gaze shifted to her mass of black hair. It was a silky and wavy concoction swaying gently in the wing.
In an instant he was transferred to his childhood playground of the ancient broch. He could suddenly remember every tiny detail of that long forgotten scene- the warm wooden hilt of the sword, the rich green of the grass, the blue mountains, how the cold wind felt on his chilled red nose. He could swear he remembered the musky smell of the rot and ancientness of the broch and the swirling black hair that came out of a window from top of the tower.
In his mind's eye, he looked up the tower and there she was. The lady of the broch, smiling at him, the soft black eyes looking down at him, beckoning with a mesmerizing appeal, red lips opened slightly to show the pearly white teeth, cheeks dimpled. The lady of the broch, from his imagination, all whose features happened to match exactly with the girl who was standing there in front of him. Surely, it was a vision!!