Men are strange. Haldir brushes his hand over the soft scruff of Aragorn's
beard, presses his thumb to the corner of a mouth that opens easily. Wet
heat, teeth, gentle suction and Haldir smiles.
Thumb dragging a wet trail down Aragorn's neck, and the Evenstar is cold against his skin. Annoying next to the heat of Aragorn's skin. Haldir knows her, wonders if he should feel guilty. Doesn't. She knows Men, or should.
Strange perhaps, or maybe just different. Haldir's hands uncover skin marked with scars that will never have the time to fade. Its taste is earthier and richer than that of his kin. The Evenstar jumps, but makes no noise on its thin chain when Aragorn cries out.
Thumb dragging a wet trail down Aragorn's neck, and the Evenstar is cold against his skin. Annoying next to the heat of Aragorn's skin. Haldir knows her, wonders if he should feel guilty. Doesn't. She knows Men, or should.
Strange perhaps, or maybe just different. Haldir's hands uncover skin marked with scars that will never have the time to fade. Its taste is earthier and richer than that of his kin. The Evenstar jumps, but makes no noise on its thin chain when Aragorn cries out.