Unexpectedly turned into a cat, Kat falls into Middle-earth with the mission to prevent a death. In a feline form she can only communicate with the elf Legolas - and that he is such an attractive specimen is certainly not helpful...
A humorous (but...
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"Nanny Ogg looked under her bed in case there was a man there. Well, you never knew your luck."
― Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies
41. Secret Paths
Drúedain tents were made of animal skin stretched over thin willow poles. Looking up into the canopy, Nellas wasn't sure who she felt more sorry for, the animals that had been killed for their hides, or the baby trees that had been cut down to make the frames, but she had to admit the tents were warm and cozy inside – especially the very small one Boromir and she had been assigned. The Drúedain apparently assumed they were husband and wife, and Nellas had certainly not set them right on that account.
She could feel his warm form against her back, like a too-large cloak, and he had flung one arm over her protectively. Yesterday when they went to bed he carefully kept a distance between them, mumbling something about decency, but in his sleep that had been remedied. Hopefully he would not wake up anytime soon, and ruin the moment with his prudency.
Smiling to herself, Nellas thought of how easily he was embarrassed by such things. Like yesterday evening, when a couple of her new Drúedain friends had helped them put the tent up. Boromir had been exceptionally flustered to work along the half naked women, with flaming cheeks the whole time, poor thing.
Her gaze left the tent and landed on his arm on her blanket. The cut on his thumb was less inflamed now, but still not quite healed, and she itched to check it – but that would disturb his sleep. Instead she admired the beauty of his hand, how large and strong it looked, and how attractive forearms he had.
She couldn't resist touching the black hairs growing on the back of his arm. Humans really were the most curious beings, with their body hair that seemed to serve no particular purpose apart from just being there – and look good.
Boromir moved slightly behind her, and his breathing became less even; he was waking up. Yet, to her surprise, he didn't pull back. It almost seemed he pretended to be still asleep, which was rather strange, but Nellas was glad he remained close and didn't call him out on it.
Instead she traced his underarm to his wrist, and followed a sinew to the tip of his index finger. After exploring the rest of the back of his hand, she returned to his elbow and continued to where his arm disappeared into the loose shirt he slept in, and slipped her fingers under it to continue upwards.
The last time she tried to touch his bare skin like this he had hindered her, but not now. Maybe that was why he feigned sleep? If awake, that dumb honor of his would demand he tell her to stop.
If that were the case, she heartily approved of a little harmless deception.
Boromir's upper arm was firm and muscular, and made Nellas' hand feel small in comparison. He must be very strong.
