{Strangely, they are, and they suit Xingchen in a way Thranduil cannot explain. The hand on his cheek softens his natural defense and he understands how best he can help the other. Of course he will not do so without certain stipulations.}

My blood would strengthen you further. I am not a mortal.

{He rests a hand on Xingchen's arm.}

Drink what you will from me, but do not attempt to turn or kill me. I would not take kindly to either.

You may find, in the process, that you and I are not so different.