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49
He Is Mine - Aragorn and Arwen

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He stands unclad, sponging away the sweat of dancing from his gilded form and I cannot help but watch. He is meticulous – the movements as precise as any made in battle. Yet tonight the warrior rests, the king defers. Tonight the lover commands.

His mouth curves, smiles a secret smile, and I wonder what he ponders. Reclined upon our wedding bed, perhaps I know.

Trembling water caresses curves of sun bronzed muscle – kissing flesh like the soft breeze of summer that blows through the curtained window.

He is beautiful, and tonight, after too many years of waiting he is mine.
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