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Annatar sighed inwardly as he glanced at Celebrimbor, now disguised as a mortal man.
He could not fathom what madness had driven him to agree to bring Celebrimbor along on his wanderings through Middle-earth. The elf had assured him he would cause no trouble and could easily vanish from sight if needed.
Elves were not shapeshifters, and despite Annatar's watchful eye, Celebrimbor betrayed his Elvish nature repeatedly; he was exceedingly courteous, sharp-witted, and possessed a captivating smile —an observation Annatar quietly noted. The brownish beret did its best to hide Celebrimbor's ears and hair, but it could not obscure his ethereal presence. Concealing the elven prince's otherworldly beauty from men proved nearly impossible.
Despite these challenges, Celebrimbor had insisted on accompanying Annatar, pleading for the chance to explore beyond the elvish realms and learn firsthand how the free peoples of Middle-earth lived. His insatiable curiosity was renowned throughout the lands; he had even forged friendships with the dwarves of Moria.
For Celebrimbor, an adventure; For Annatar, however, it meant postponing his plans. He had intended to journey north to investigate reports of Númenor's expanding colonies, and despite being delayed by a week due to Celebrimbor's presence, he still found himself unable to deny the prince's requests.
Annatar had to endure the prying glances and whispered inquiries about why a sorcerer and a young lad were traveling together. Throughout their journey, they shared accommodations, but with the decorum of separate beds.
Rustic and humble inns hardly befitted an elven prince, let alone a Maia of his stature, yet Celebrimbor approached each occasion with enthusiasm and remained in high spirits.
Unwilling to admit it, Annatar found amusement in the prince's joy at every new experience—whether it was sampling various ales, learning traditional tavern ballads, partaking in feats of strength, or merely observing mundane human activities. The locals were baffled at how effortlessly that boy could outmatch the strongest men. Their suspicions often compelled the duo to depart from one village to the next hastily.
Seeking refuge in anonymity proved simpler than attempting to logically explain Celebrimbor's remarkable strength without revealing he was an elf.
Thus, Celebrimbor ran and laughed, and Annatar also occasionally smiled despite his reservations.
That night, they lay in the grass by the river beneath a canopy of stars. The nearby lanterns imbued the air with a temperate warmth accompanied by the calming chorus of crickets. They could still hear the accordions and clapping from afar.
Celebrimbor wore a casual jacket and tattered trousers, he looked irresistibly charming in his beret, though Annatar secretly hoped to see his beautiful black hair flowing freely.
As if responding to this unspoken wish, far from the noise and merriment of the tavern, Celebrimbor released his hair, letting it cascade down and reveal his pointed ears, a testament to his Elvish heritage. Annatar was captivated, unable to look at anything else.
"I am pleased you have agreed to include me in your adventures this time."
"Are you truly?" Annatar feigned surprise, his voice laden with his typical sarcasm. "Had you not mentioned it, I would have remained blissfully unaware."
Celebrimbor's laughter echoed in a melodic harmony with the balmy night and the rustling leaves.
"Thus far, I have enjoyed everything except the ale," he admitted. "I detested the ale."
"And rightfully so," Annatar chuckled. "Human beverages are horrendous, especially for one accustomed to Miruvórë—the finest taste of Aman."
Celebrimbor shrugged, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You may discover better flavors elsewhere."
"I doubt it," Annatar replied casually, his gaze fixed on Celebrimbor.
Feeling the intensity of Annatar's crimson eyes upon him, Celebrimbor smiled and drew nearer. Their faces were now mere inches apart, and they stood in silence for a long moment until Celebrimbor broke the stillness.
"Have you ever kissed an elf?" he whispered.
"I have not," Annatar replied, his voice low and controlled.
"Would you like to kiss one now?"
Annatar responded swiftly, requiring no words to convey his tangible and burning need.
He advanced hungrily towards Celebrimbor, surrendering his composure to the softness of the elf's inviting lips. As their kiss deepened, Annatar felt an overwhelming surge of desire. He had always craved kissing an elf—this elf—the culmination of a longing finally unfolding before him. Celebrimbor responded with equal passion, though more measured, their bodies impossibly pressing together. Annatar's hand slipped beneath Celebrimbor's shirt, feeling his smooth skin, eagerly reaching to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.
The prince grinned and reluctantly pulled away, his lips parting with difficulty as Annatar struggled to release his hold and let him go.
Eyes closed, completely lost in the sensations, Annatar savored the lingering sweetness of the elf's lips, wishing to imprint that taste on him forever.
It was the finest taste of all.