[ Celegorm turns his face a little, white teeth glinting as he smiled, letting his lips brush the heel of Legolas' hand. And hand hands move forward in the small space between their bodies, plucking a little at the fabric of the other elf's tunic; as if urging Legolas nearer still. He watches the Prince while he does it. ]
Beauty, I thought, was most valued. Wisdom, too, certainly... But ours are spirits which grow ever-colder under the grinding weight of time as it marches over us. Passion is a warming thing, a burning thing; and like my father before me, perhaps, I would rather go hotly into the night, a bonfire rather than a spark!
[ The curve of his mouth goes a little smug, then, seeing Legolas watch him in turn, and at last he touches their foreheads together. ]
Why, I can grasp you. You come to me as handsomely as an eagle to the wrist after a hunt. And I wait here for you to reach for me, only a breath away.
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Beauty, I thought, was most valued. Wisdom, too, certainly... But ours are spirits which grow ever-colder under the grinding weight of time as it marches over us. Passion is a warming thing, a burning thing; and like my father before me, perhaps, I would rather go hotly into the night, a bonfire rather than a spark!
[ The curve of his mouth goes a little smug, then, seeing Legolas watch him in turn, and at last he touches their foreheads together. ]
Why, I can grasp you. You come to me as handsomely as an eagle to the wrist after a hunt. And I wait here for you to reach for me, only a breath away.