(Author's notes: I felt inspired to write something fluffy as a break from
my other story, so here it is!
Disclaimer: Why do we even have these? Have people not realized that this
is a fanfiction site and no one is making money of this? I do not own
Tolkien's work. Lord of the Rings belongs to Tolkien's estate. I do not
own Aragorn or Arwen or any one else, except for my OCs, none of which
appear in this story anyway. If I did, I would be dead.
This is my short little ficlet about Aragorn and Arwen. Enjoy!)
The First of Many Mornings.
Mid-morning sunlight filled the room as Aragorn opened his eyes. Looking down at the sleeping figure clasped in his arms, he smiled in realization. The night before had not been but a glorious dream, but real! He brushed the silken lock of midnight hair that fell across his wife's beautiful face away, gazing at her lovingly. In her sleep she drew even closer to him, and he smiled. It was difficult to believe that after so long of waiting, Arwen was finally his wife. Remembering all the nights they had lay awake in their separate beds, each dreaming of the other and wishing they were in each others' arms, he ran a finger down the curve of her cheek, quietly contemplating her lovely features with a sigh. Pulling her closer to him, he settled down to wait for her awakening.
She woke moments later, and for a minute did not know where she was. She soon realized the arms about her were Aragorn's, and-with a jolt of happy surprise, they were married. She whispered his name sleepily.
"Sleep well, my lovely one?" he asked her, eyes sparkling as he ran his hand down her side. She shivered with pleasure at his touch, smiling at him, and answered with a kiss.
"I liked the part when we weren't sleeping better, Estel," she said wickedly. "As I recall, we did more of that than sleep." Her sea grey eyes were twinkling naughtily at him.
He laughed. "I do not think we did enough of 'that,' Undomiel, now that you mention it," he told her with a mock-wicked tone of his own. He rolled on top of her, kissing her passionately, on her mouth, on her eyelids, on her cheeks.
"Estel!" she exclaimed, laughing softly. "Who would have known that a king would behave this way?" she teased him as his palm smoothed over her lithe, slender-and bare- body.
He looked at her, eyes serious now. "No one but you, Undomiel," he said softly, his piercing green eyes gazing deep into her soul. "No one but you."
Arwen gazed back at him, a loving smile on her face as her fingers caressed the stubble of his beard. Tears of happiness filled her eyes at his words. A wave of contentedness washed over them both as they looked at each other, thoughts melding together as one. Love, pure love. The bond between them was so strong, made stronger by all the years of waiting, all the years of hope and shadow. How amazing it was when they thought of how their love had matured, from a rushing emotion, a flicker of light, to this unbreakable bond, this roaring fire of love! So many years had gone by. The newly weds lay entwined in each others arms, until Arwen said reluctantly, "We should get up." Breaking free of his embrace and swinging her legs out of the bed, she looked back at him. "Estel?"
Aragorn watched her, entranced by her beautiful form. "Not yet, meleth nin," he whispered, drawing her back to him.
She giggled softly. "Will we not be missed?" she asked him, although she very much wanted to spend more time in this bed, no, the rest of her life.
He kissed her again, pulling her to his chest. He could taste the salty tears that had fallen down her cheeks on her lips. "If a king cannot spend the morning after his wedding with his lady, then I should never have become one."
They laughed and fell back onto the bed, the first of many loving mornings.
This is my short little ficlet about Aragorn and Arwen. Enjoy!)
The First of Many Mornings.
Mid-morning sunlight filled the room as Aragorn opened his eyes. Looking down at the sleeping figure clasped in his arms, he smiled in realization. The night before had not been but a glorious dream, but real! He brushed the silken lock of midnight hair that fell across his wife's beautiful face away, gazing at her lovingly. In her sleep she drew even closer to him, and he smiled. It was difficult to believe that after so long of waiting, Arwen was finally his wife. Remembering all the nights they had lay awake in their separate beds, each dreaming of the other and wishing they were in each others' arms, he ran a finger down the curve of her cheek, quietly contemplating her lovely features with a sigh. Pulling her closer to him, he settled down to wait for her awakening.
She woke moments later, and for a minute did not know where she was. She soon realized the arms about her were Aragorn's, and-with a jolt of happy surprise, they were married. She whispered his name sleepily.
"Sleep well, my lovely one?" he asked her, eyes sparkling as he ran his hand down her side. She shivered with pleasure at his touch, smiling at him, and answered with a kiss.
"I liked the part when we weren't sleeping better, Estel," she said wickedly. "As I recall, we did more of that than sleep." Her sea grey eyes were twinkling naughtily at him.
He laughed. "I do not think we did enough of 'that,' Undomiel, now that you mention it," he told her with a mock-wicked tone of his own. He rolled on top of her, kissing her passionately, on her mouth, on her eyelids, on her cheeks.
"Estel!" she exclaimed, laughing softly. "Who would have known that a king would behave this way?" she teased him as his palm smoothed over her lithe, slender-and bare- body.
He looked at her, eyes serious now. "No one but you, Undomiel," he said softly, his piercing green eyes gazing deep into her soul. "No one but you."
Arwen gazed back at him, a loving smile on her face as her fingers caressed the stubble of his beard. Tears of happiness filled her eyes at his words. A wave of contentedness washed over them both as they looked at each other, thoughts melding together as one. Love, pure love. The bond between them was so strong, made stronger by all the years of waiting, all the years of hope and shadow. How amazing it was when they thought of how their love had matured, from a rushing emotion, a flicker of light, to this unbreakable bond, this roaring fire of love! So many years had gone by. The newly weds lay entwined in each others arms, until Arwen said reluctantly, "We should get up." Breaking free of his embrace and swinging her legs out of the bed, she looked back at him. "Estel?"
Aragorn watched her, entranced by her beautiful form. "Not yet, meleth nin," he whispered, drawing her back to him.
She giggled softly. "Will we not be missed?" she asked him, although she very much wanted to spend more time in this bed, no, the rest of her life.
He kissed her again, pulling her to his chest. He could taste the salty tears that had fallen down her cheeks on her lips. "If a king cannot spend the morning after his wedding with his lady, then I should never have become one."
They laughed and fell back onto the bed, the first of many loving mornings.