For Julia, a thank you gift for all her support during this challenge.

“My lady!” Aragorn gave an exaggerated bow then lifted Arwen from Roheryn’s back.

She laughed a sound like music to his ears. Of late, her spirits had been low. Especially in springtime, she missed the natural beauty of her Elven homeland and felt oppressed by the city of stone in which she now dwelt.

Concerned for their friends’ well- being, Faramir and Éowyn had invited the royal family to visit them in Ithilien.

Tonight, clad only in their night attire beneath their cloaks, Aragorn and Arwen had both ridden upon Roheryn to spend the night in a secluded glade beneath the stars.

Hand in hand, they walked beneath a row of birches that shone like silver in the moonlight.

“Do you recall the first time that we met?” asked Aragorn.

“How could I forget? You came upon me at sunset as I walked beneath the birches. You stirred my heart even then.”

“And I loved you from that moment onwards.”

They paused and kissed each other tenderly upon the lips. Their pulses quickened. At last, they broke apart and Aragorn spread the blankets they had brought upon the ground.

They lay down upon them. The moonlight illuminated the surrounding cypress clad hills. The air was laden with their aromatic fragrance mingled with spring blossoms.

“If you hold me really tight,” said Arwen, “then Arda holds you and you alone.”

Aragorn sighed contentedly and held her close. “It feels so much more private here than in our bedchamber,” he said. “We are far from the tongues of serpents that gossip ceaselessly and watch our every move.”

“In this spellbound night the world’s an Elvish sight,” Arwen whispered. She lay looking up at the stars. “I sense Varda’s presence here. See how brightly her stars shine upon us!”

Aragorn followed her gaze. “Behold the Star of Eärendil!” he said. “Brightest of all the stars, our forefather smiles down upon us from his ship.” His fingers caressed her soft cheek. In the moonlight, her skin glowed softly. “Your beauty, beloved, outshines the brightest star!” He ran his fingers through her long, silken tresses.

A nightingale began to sing in a nearby bush.

Arwen slipped her hand beneath Aragorn’s nightshirt and ran her fingers across his broad chest. He quivered with pleasure at her touch, his skin tingling as her slender fingers met his skin.

“You are slender as the birch and stronger than the oak!” said Arwen. “Estel, my husband, my beloved!”

He silenced her with kisses, which she eagerly returned.

Blood turned to fire, hearts beat swifter than the arrow’s flight. Passion surged, rising and falling like waves upon breaking upon the shore.

Arwen groaned with ecstasy. How strong her husband was and yet how tender! The mighty warrior was a tender wooer, who strove ever to make her pleasure equal to his own.

Tonight, the stars bore witness to their union, two bodies melting into one, two souls entwining in perfect harmony. King and Queen, man and woman, husband and wife.