[ There is something particularly unsettling about this man, in the strange, smooth way he moves and the stillness in his eyes. Aragorn has not met an Elf other than Legolas in this place, but Data reminds him of one- yet not. Not without the gentle serenity of the Elves, or the glow that comes from their skins. It seems... odd, almost artificial.
Aragorn ponders upon it for a long moment, turning his observations in his head even as he tips his head up and looks at Data. He parts his lips to answer, but at the time the microwave beeps, and Aragorn blinks as he pulls open the door, drawing out the tray. The leaves are dried, browned and wrinkled, and he takes up three leaves and places them in a cup.
He pours hot water over them, and lets the tea steep. ]
'Tis athelas, which gives strength. Will you try it?
no subject
Aragorn ponders upon it for a long moment, turning his observations in his head even as he tips his head up and looks at Data. He parts his lips to answer, but at the time the microwave beeps, and Aragorn blinks as he pulls open the door, drawing out the tray. The leaves are dried, browned and wrinkled, and he takes up three leaves and places them in a cup.
He pours hot water over them, and lets the tea steep. ]
'Tis athelas, which gives strength. Will you try it?
[ He pushes the cup over. ]