Just Breathe: A Tale of Infatuation at First Sight
Commander Nicanion was in a foul mood. It was one of those days when everything was conspiring against him. As soon as he left the barracks that morning he slipped on a patch of ice. Fortunately caught himself before he fell down, but he cracked his favorite cane on the stair rail and wrenched his knee. Even that wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been his left knee. His left leg and hip had been badly broken in an accident five years prior and he worried every time he fell on that side. He'd have to call Marci over from the Healer's Hall that evening to take a look at it. Hopefully the pain would have abated enough that Marci wouldn't insist he take poppy juice. Until then a double dose of willow bark took the edge off his pain and yelling at the soldier who hadn't cleared the steps completely that morning took the edge off his irritation.
Relief in both cases was only temporary, however. Every report that crossed his desk that morning was full of bad news: skirmishes in the Ice Isles, mercenaries running back and forth across the southern border, and a stack of whiny messages from the Vizkonigin Regent's office. He brought the messages to the General's attention only to get sucked into a meeting among the General, Regent, and other Commanders. Nicanion was able to extricate himself after an hour, but the Regent's shrill voice had already given him a headache to go along with the dull throb in his leg.
Back in his office, he wrapped a bandage around his knee and slipped a heating crystal in the folds. It helped a little, but he obviously needed something stronger as well. He might as well take the poppy juice. If it made him hallucinate so be it. Anything would be better than this constant pain. He took out a bottle of poppy juice, took a sip, winced, recorked the bottle, and set it on the desk so he could move the crystal to a better location in the bandage. As he did he knocked the bottle on the floor. It rolled under a cabinet where he couldn't reach it. Just as he was trying to push it out with his cane, someone knocked on the door.
“Enter!” he barked. God of Fire, if I have to go back into that meeting I will hit someone, I swear I will, and I do not care what the consequences will be. With a sigh of heavy annoyance, he turned to face his visitor. What he saw was so unexpected it took his breath away along with his headache.
A young elf carrying a wooden box marked with mage insignia stood in front of his desk. He was the most beautiful elf Nicanion had ever seen. He looked like a sculpture of idealized elven beauty: tall, straight, and slender, high cheekbones, delicately pointed ears, exquisitely shaped nose, skin the perfect shade of golden olive, dark brown hair with glints of gold in it, almond-shaped eyes in the most lovely shade of jade green. Very nervous eyes, in fact. The strange mage had obviously noticed how annoyed Nicanion was when he came in. The Commander collected himself and spoke to the mage in a much kinder tone.
“Can I help you?”
“I was supposed to deliver these amethysts to Commander Fenrig and...that's a human name and you're an elf...I think I'm in the wrong place.” He blushed and bit his lower lip. Nicanion had to remind himself to exhale.
“Yes, he is human. I'm Commander Nicanion. Fenrig's office is across the hall,” he said. He tried his best not to stare, but he knew he was failing miserably.
“Oh. I'll take these over to his office then. I'm sorry I disturbed you,” the mage said, his words tumbling out in a rush as he turned to go.
“Wait!” Nicanion called. The mage turned back, confused. “Commander Fenrig is in a meeting with the General right now. I can hold those amethysts until he gets back.”
“All right.” The mage held out the box. Nicanion took it from him, hoping that their hands would touch in the exchange but they didn't. He put the box in a drawer and caught the mage staring at him when he looked up. The younger elf blushed again and began examining the top of the desk as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Nicanion bit his own lip now, desperately trying to think of something to say. He didn't want the mage to leave, not until he found out who he was.
“I don't remember seeing you around the Keep before. What's your name?” Ugh. That was horrible. No finesse at all. What's next, “Hi, you're really cute. Want to go out sometime?”
The mage didn't seem bothered by Nicanion's bluntness. “Toforo Corianson. I was transferred to the Mage Hall here from Hillund three months ago.”
“Hillund? In Osven? I have a cousin that works there. Did you know Urania Tuvendi?”
“Yes, I did. She's your cousin?” Toforo brightened. “That would explain it! I was wondering why...your eyes are the same color as hers. I hadn't seen purple eyes before I met her.”
Nicanion nodded. “Most Tuvendis have purple eyes. It's a family trait.”
“I like them,” Toforo said. “I think they're...they're nice.” He closed his mouth tightly and resumed his examination of the desktop.
Nicanion smiled. Just as he was about to be horribly blunt again and ask Toforo if he wanted to have drinks sometime, Fenrig came grumbling into the office.
“Gods, Nico, you were lucky to get out of that meeting when you did. That was the biggest waste of...oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you in here,” he said as he bumped into Toforo.
The mage bowed slightly. “I can see you're busy so I guess I'll go. Thank you for...thank you for your time,” he said and hurried back to the Mage Hall.
Fenrig watched him go. “Who was that?”
“New mage.” Nicanion took the box out of his drawer and handed it to Fenrig. “He brought the amethysts you've been waiting on.”
“Oh good. Now I can get those shields repaired.” Instead of taking the box, Fenrig grabbed a chair from the wall and pulled it over to Nicanion's desk. “Let me fill you in on what you missed. Herself kept whining about the security on the southern border after you left. She said that we....”
Nicanion put the box on his desk. He rubbed his knee absently, half-listening to Fenrig as he thought about Toforo. I need to remember to call Urania tonight. I have to know more about him.
He didn't even care that his leg was still hurting or that his poppy juice was still lost under the cabinet. If anything, the pain was a good thing: it meant that he hadn't been hallucinating that beautiful mage. This was real.
Relief in both cases was only temporary, however. Every report that crossed his desk that morning was full of bad news: skirmishes in the Ice Isles, mercenaries running back and forth across the southern border, and a stack of whiny messages from the Vizkonigin Regent's office. He brought the messages to the General's attention only to get sucked into a meeting among the General, Regent, and other Commanders. Nicanion was able to extricate himself after an hour, but the Regent's shrill voice had already given him a headache to go along with the dull throb in his leg.
Back in his office, he wrapped a bandage around his knee and slipped a heating crystal in the folds. It helped a little, but he obviously needed something stronger as well. He might as well take the poppy juice. If it made him hallucinate so be it. Anything would be better than this constant pain. He took out a bottle of poppy juice, took a sip, winced, recorked the bottle, and set it on the desk so he could move the crystal to a better location in the bandage. As he did he knocked the bottle on the floor. It rolled under a cabinet where he couldn't reach it. Just as he was trying to push it out with his cane, someone knocked on the door.
“Enter!” he barked. God of Fire, if I have to go back into that meeting I will hit someone, I swear I will, and I do not care what the consequences will be. With a sigh of heavy annoyance, he turned to face his visitor. What he saw was so unexpected it took his breath away along with his headache.
A young elf carrying a wooden box marked with mage insignia stood in front of his desk. He was the most beautiful elf Nicanion had ever seen. He looked like a sculpture of idealized elven beauty: tall, straight, and slender, high cheekbones, delicately pointed ears, exquisitely shaped nose, skin the perfect shade of golden olive, dark brown hair with glints of gold in it, almond-shaped eyes in the most lovely shade of jade green. Very nervous eyes, in fact. The strange mage had obviously noticed how annoyed Nicanion was when he came in. The Commander collected himself and spoke to the mage in a much kinder tone.
“Can I help you?”
“I was supposed to deliver these amethysts to Commander Fenrig and...that's a human name and you're an elf...I think I'm in the wrong place.” He blushed and bit his lower lip. Nicanion had to remind himself to exhale.
“Yes, he is human. I'm Commander Nicanion. Fenrig's office is across the hall,” he said. He tried his best not to stare, but he knew he was failing miserably.
“Oh. I'll take these over to his office then. I'm sorry I disturbed you,” the mage said, his words tumbling out in a rush as he turned to go.
“Wait!” Nicanion called. The mage turned back, confused. “Commander Fenrig is in a meeting with the General right now. I can hold those amethysts until he gets back.”
“All right.” The mage held out the box. Nicanion took it from him, hoping that their hands would touch in the exchange but they didn't. He put the box in a drawer and caught the mage staring at him when he looked up. The younger elf blushed again and began examining the top of the desk as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Nicanion bit his own lip now, desperately trying to think of something to say. He didn't want the mage to leave, not until he found out who he was.
“I don't remember seeing you around the Keep before. What's your name?” Ugh. That was horrible. No finesse at all. What's next, “Hi, you're really cute. Want to go out sometime?”
The mage didn't seem bothered by Nicanion's bluntness. “Toforo Corianson. I was transferred to the Mage Hall here from Hillund three months ago.”
“Hillund? In Osven? I have a cousin that works there. Did you know Urania Tuvendi?”
“Yes, I did. She's your cousin?” Toforo brightened. “That would explain it! I was wondering why...your eyes are the same color as hers. I hadn't seen purple eyes before I met her.”
Nicanion nodded. “Most Tuvendis have purple eyes. It's a family trait.”
“I like them,” Toforo said. “I think they're...they're nice.” He closed his mouth tightly and resumed his examination of the desktop.
Nicanion smiled. Just as he was about to be horribly blunt again and ask Toforo if he wanted to have drinks sometime, Fenrig came grumbling into the office.
“Gods, Nico, you were lucky to get out of that meeting when you did. That was the biggest waste of...oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you in here,” he said as he bumped into Toforo.
The mage bowed slightly. “I can see you're busy so I guess I'll go. Thank you for...thank you for your time,” he said and hurried back to the Mage Hall.
Fenrig watched him go. “Who was that?”
“New mage.” Nicanion took the box out of his drawer and handed it to Fenrig. “He brought the amethysts you've been waiting on.”
“Oh good. Now I can get those shields repaired.” Instead of taking the box, Fenrig grabbed a chair from the wall and pulled it over to Nicanion's desk. “Let me fill you in on what you missed. Herself kept whining about the security on the southern border after you left. She said that we....”
Nicanion put the box on his desk. He rubbed his knee absently, half-listening to Fenrig as he thought about Toforo. I need to remember to call Urania tonight. I have to know more about him.
He didn't even care that his leg was still hurting or that his poppy juice was still lost under the cabinet. If anything, the pain was a good thing: it meant that he hadn't been hallucinating that beautiful mage. This was real.