The absence of those warm fingers surprises Aragorn some. It's not particularly chilly out, even if autumn draws near, and yet he notices the loss acutely. Aragorn brushes the thought aside for now. All that matters is the kind soul standing before him. Finel didn't have to seek him out after the audience with the Emperor, but he chose to do so anyway. He's the only person who bothered asking Aragorn how he's faring and that means something. This is why his smile grows tenfold.

"Ah, I see." He comments after briefly repeating the words. "Your language has both feminine and masculine words within it. Sindarin sparingly does the same for certain words, but not often." There's a longer explanation for that, but Aragorn doesn't want to boggle Finel down with too much.

"Teach me more," Aragorn asks with an earnest grin. "Perhaps we could teach others about the culture of our people." This would certainly ease the homesickness festering within.