Idril's breath caught. She knew he was 6'3" and she had seen pictures, but up close it was truly impressive. He stood a head and shoulder taller than everyone present in his vicinity. His stance, red hair and the way he carried himself was quite devastating and she quite forgot the world around her. she watched mesmerized as he fluidly dismounted his stallion and proceeded to engage in a sword play. Everyone in the cast was skilled but Idril had eyes for no one but him. she stood there quite oblivious to the appreciative murmurs and excitement in the crowd.
Feanor and his partner, parrying together, came quite close to the boundary beyond which the group of onlookers were standing and suddenly he moved his head sideways and rested on Idril. On their own volition, his eyes seemed to lock with hers and he suddenly stopped. Cerulean blue mashed with brown. He simply stood there looking at her and she at him and the world vanished!
His fencing partner noticed his sudden stillness a moment too late and his next lunge touched Feanor near the shoulder. He stumbled back and blinked, as if seeing the surroundings for the first time, his expression quite comical. Then realizing what had happened, he laughed and lunged back. But the shoot was spoiled anyway, so the whole thing was enacted once again. This time, though, he never looked anywhere but focused solely on the scene.
Idril stood breathing hard. What just happened? They had looked at each other for an instant and that had felt like an eternity. As if nothing else mattered and nothing was better than drowning in his blue, blue eyes. She could have sworn that he had felt it too. The way he had stopped moving suddenly and gazed at her still as a statue had her believe that he too had felt the connection, the zap! Of the electricity that had flowed between them. But then, he had turned his head and had never looked back at her. Maybe it was all her imagination.
She shook herself out of her reverie. What the hell! She was crazy about him. a most avid fan. Of course she was feeling a little queer around him. It was called hero worshipping. She glanced around, the shoot was coming to an end and the actors were moving back to the studio. Many of the onlookers were following them as well. Recognizing their cue, she and Imogen both headed towards the studio, in the room they had waited on their last visit. While waiting for Feanor to arrive, both of them gushed with the crowd present as to how fabulous the cast was.
Somebody poked her from behind. Turning, she saw a small girl holding a clipboard was standing wearing a slightly bemused look.
"You came here to meet Feanor?"
"Yes."
She nodded towards Imogen, "She came with you?"
"Yes."
"Come with me please." She said and without a backward glance started walking towards a number of doors at the far side of the room. They followed her, exchanging surprised but excited looks at each other. The girl passed a series of rooms which had the names of different casts hanging on the doors. She stopped in front of one of them and knocked twice.