Hot Kisses and Cool Snowflakes
Chapter 1
Snowflakes were dancing in the air. They swirled and leapt about as if stirred like a mystical potion by the cold winter's wind, fluttering and falling as silver raindrops until suddenly an icy blast sent them soaring upwards once more. Everywhere was coated in a gorgeous fluffy layer of delicate snow, while no snowflakes at all seemed to be able to reach the ground. The white city of Minas Tirith was hidden from the rest of the wide realms by a throng of snowflakes, all twirling about like stars.
It was set into the mountain so tightly, that it was hard to say where the white walls stopped and the white rocks began. But it shone out into the glistening air like a city of dreams. Tiny lights pricked the white surface, twinkling like little diamonds, while peering out of every corner were warm fires shining redder than rubies. Pools and fountains, frozen with water harder than the very stone they were created from, glimmered as sapphires swimming under chilly seas.
Minas Tirith had vanished from a city and spun into a crown fit for a snow princess. It lay with the seventh level just touching the edge of the creamy Pelennor Fields, seamlessly drawing up into its magical splendour. Each level majestically swept across, bursting with happiness of snow, flecks of buildings poking out here and there. They curled up to the peak, where the citadel sat astride as a palace for the Valar. A silver slither of light cut out of every window like a holy place, with the tower gliding up straight towards the heavens.
And right at its base, a smooth disk of pure gold glowed, a window into the sparkling crown of snow, where inside was a queen of even more beautiful than the white crown of snow-angels.
Arwen rushed past the glassy window, glancing up at the veiled sky as she moved to sit down on the bed even before the door to the bedchamber had silently fallen shut. She looked just like a one whom the white crown would fit perfectly. A fair dusting of snowflakes lay all over her blue mantle, while many signs of icing sugar upon her hands and dress suggested strong hints of helping in the kitchens for baking all those mince pies that would be demanded for in only a few hours.
Her eyelashes were clustered with more snowflakes, while her cheeks had turned a flushed pink in the bitter cold, yet her eyes shone brighter and bluer than ever. She laughed quietly to herself when she sent a shower of snow all over her side of the bed while throwing her cloak off her nimble shoulders. Then her eyes narrowed, as if remembering something, and she turned round, leaning on the soft blankets.
As soon as her eyes fell upon the back of her husband, Arwen's lips twitched into a smile. He was sitting on the bed too, but also amusing her immensely with the scratching of his head as he tried to work out some hard calculations on a heavily scrawled piece of parchment. She had seen it too many times, and if she had, then he had too. It was time to be happy, she thought as she leisurely ran her hands over her dress to wipe the icing sugar off, not to slave away for hours.
Arwen rose from the bed and began to walk around it, gazing contentedly at the circular King's bedroom laden with Yuletide decorations. The holly below the torch lamps in particular caught her eyes, although the mistletoe she herself had tied to the ceiling while Aragorn had been still sleeping late that morning suddenly became incredibly tempting.
It was only when she had quietly tiptoed to his side that she noticed the greenwood tree, fresh and full of life, but still waiting for her and her lover to decorate it. With anticipation she nibbled her finger, realising that instead of wiping the icing sugar off her dress, she had just wiped more on, from her white hands. Giggling she took the parchment from Aragorn's strong hands, tucking her long hair behind her ear as she did so. Aragorn looked up and smiled faintly, before taking her hand lovingly from her side as he wiped the tiredness off his face.
"Hannon le, meleth," he whispered, with a smile. She returned the gesture gladly, watching with laughter while he took his hand away and discovered that it had turned a completely different colour. He chuckled and looked up at her.
"Estel," she muttered, "it is Christmas tomorrow, and you should not be… working, straining yourself like this," she tried to give him an accusing look, but it only made her submit to a bout of giggles. She slowly plucked at his shirt where it rested half open on his chest. "We should be celebrating… together."
"I am sorry, Arwen," he replied sympathetically, but his eyes following her heatedly as she laid his parchment on the bedside table and then sat down beside him. He put his arms around her into a warm cuddle, nestling against each other and stroking her cheek. "I really am sorry," he said again, but happiness had sneaked into his voice.
"Henion," (I understand) Arwen murmured into his cosy layers of clothing. "I know it is difficult when you have so much to do as King." Then she smiled to herself and looked up at him. "But I know even better that you would rather be with me, for why else would you be doing your work in here?"
Aragorn laughed and pulled her towards him again, planting a fond kiss on her forehead. The smile on her lips broke out all over her face.
"Mmmm, I refuse to work anymore this holiday," he told her as she noticed him playing with her silky hair on her shoulder. "They will have to drag me screaming into Mordor before I leave you. There is only one thing I want to do the whole of this Yuletide, and I have scarcely even seen you yet, let alone…"
Arwen gave him a questioning look. Aragorn cautiously leant in, and with his eyes flickering down to her red lips, he gave her a slow kiss. Arwen sighed heavenly and looked up.
"Then you shall have plenty of opportunities, Estel," she murmured, "for I shall never leave your side, for not even a minute. Well, maybe just one," she added, and they laughed. Arwen raised up her eyes and trailed a finger up his cheek. Her voice fell to a whisper. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" she asked softly. Her tones suddenly had a dangerous edge.
Aragorn sighed amorously, moving his nose tenderly nearer to hers. "If I can truly see it in your eyes and feel it in your kiss then I would say that your heart is overflowing with your love, stretching out far beyond the boundaries of Arda. Am I right, or should I go with my belief that I can never really know how much you love me?"
"You mentioned my kiss did you not?" Arwen said craftily, her eyes twinkling into his. She then leaned closer towards his lips, stroking his hair out of his eyes. "I think that after this your view may be different."
Slowly she pressed a deep, long kiss to his lips. When she looked up from under her long eyelashes, there was the same undreamable love in Aragorn's eyes.
He was lost for words. She gazed at him, watching as he tried to put what he had felt into words. His lips parted, but no sound could come out. Arwen knew just how impossible he found it to describe the flame in their kiss, but she could see it so very clearly in his eyes.
Arwen smiled and ran her fingertips over his lips, savouring their gentle softness and imagining another kiss. Either she did not see, or she chose to pretend that she did not, when Aragorn's eyes widened weakly. "I think you now know," she explained coolly, now sensing the animated stare on her lips, "just how much I love you." She could not bring herself to look up into those deadly eyes, but a sigh of heavenly agreement escaped from Aragorn.
"But I had better just check…!" she added suddenly and kissed him again, massaging her lips tenderly over his, letting her warmth flow into his mouth.
"Arwen…!" he gasped, when she had finally let the kiss go and instead left it to linger in the close air between them. She smiled and glanced down in a shy manner.
"Well…" she began modestly.
"Well what?" Aragorn finished the statement for her and immediately drew her jawbone upwards so that he could give her a full kiss on the lips. His tongue slipped so easily inside her mouth that she thought that her heart would burst with the excitement. Her cheeks turned a brighter pink almost the hue of her raw lips and Aragorn laughed when he took himself away from the kiss.
"I think that that clears that up then," he laughed, caressing her cheek before giving her a third kiss, this on her hand. He began to pull it round behind his back, locking her in his close hold with his other arm firmly around her waist.
"No… no!" Arwen giggled, struggling to withdraw herself in the knowledge of the intoxicating amount of kissing and tickling that would soon fall upon her. Aragorn had played this trick on her many times before and she had succumbed to it, but this time the excitement rush was too powerful, and amidst his laughs she just managed to twist her arms out of his grasp. Before he could regain a tight grip on her she squirmed to the side and leapt up, but in doing so Aragorn's fingertips ran, only lightly and not on purpose, over her stomach, and the sensation seemed to tickle her senses an unimaginable amount.
"I- can't-" she tried to say.
"You can't what?" Aragorn asked, most politely but the look on his face saying very much otherwise. The infectious festive air had uplifted him and he was overwhelmed by a very sly manner. He edged forward to the very rim of the bed, trying to catch Arwen's hand.
"I… err… I need some fresh air…" Arwen stuttered and dashed to take her warm winter coat from the red- and green-ribboned chair behind. She could feel herself blushing madly on red fire, and as she slid inside the snug fur which pressed around her body she saw Aragorn grin so broadly that he collapsed in howls of laughter and fell backwards onto the bed. Arwen could not resist to admitting to one smile.
She tied the coat around her slender waist, her imagination still teasing her by giving the severe impression of Aragorn's hands creeping round her instead. Subsequently she turned and made for the small wooden door which would lead down into their private garden, coyly tucking her hair behind her ear again. As her hand touched the iceberg cold handle she heard Aragorn's struggling voice. "I'll give you one minute," he attempted to say in an authoritive and alluring voice, except that it just sounded hilarious.
"I will do," Arwen replied innocently, now sensing her cheeks a shade of crimson deeper than overheated blood-red holly-berries. She wrenched open the door, desperate to run outside and regain herself.
"I can't wait any longer than that!" Aragorn called out as she swivelled round to pull the door shut. Falling into secretive giggles she pulled it to and hurried down the freezing cold steps, only now realising that she had no shoes on her feet. However, there was no way she was going back in, and the extreme cold seemed to be having a vague effect upon her, although to be true she was still biting her lip to contain her ecstatic passion.
Arwen reached the last of the five steps and then slowly placed one bare foot onto the flawlessly smooth layer of new snow. The satisfying crunch was irresistible, no matter how much it made her foot go numb, and she put the second one down beside it. The angle-white snow stretched out into their garden, an adorable blanket cast down over everything there – the sea of grass vanished underneath, the towering trees scraping the grey sky, the bare flower beds with flickering candles standing bravely in them, the bushes heralding the holly and ivy plants, and the scattered seats only just wide enough for two people so that those two people had to sit very close together – all washed in that dazzling downy layer of snow.
When the snow was so smooth, so perfect, so alike to water, all she wanted to do was touch it, to step on the wonderful surface and feel it close in around her feet. Arwen watched as she walked slowly forward, the snow collapsing in around her toes as she laid down a step. Her toenails shone petal-pink in the damp air while a gust of snowflakes began to zoom around her as she moved forwards again. They danced in the air like little fairies, so prettily and delicately, and as they settled all over her, creeping up to the grey fur around her neck, Arwen laughed in happiness.
Then surprisingly she felt a soft touch on her waist, and looking down to where those rapturous tingles were issuing from she saw there a hand which she knew better than her own. Arwen felt another slide around her and Aragorn moved into her view, his shirt blowing in the cold air and bands of snowflakes cheekily flurrying between their eyes. A gentle smile crept over her lips.
"Time's up," he said simply, gazing at her. Then-
"Aren't you cold?" He felt for her hand.
"No," Arwen replied immediately, her eyes fluttering over his face, but hiding her emotions. Aragorn looked up, and her voice changed. "Just in love."
Then she gently kissed him, tipping her head slightly to the side so that she could slip her tongue into his mouth. At the same time Aragorn picked her up and slide her legs around his waist while he moved his tongue intimately over hers. He held her closely and warmly in his arms, her numb feet tucking around his knees, and their lips passing affectionately over each others'.
"Estel…" she whispered, seizing a breath. Love shone in Aragorn's eyes, brighter than any candle, or any fire, or any star. He smiled and carefully began to walk back towards the steps leading up to their bedroom, still carrying Arwen. She smiled too and leaned nearer to his lips. "You know I love you right now… even more than I did on our wedding day?"
Aragorn faltered slightly as he put one foot on the step, and pausing he looked up. Arwen smiled beautifully, her eyes glimmering flirtatiously but not without reason, and slowly she leaned inwards, drawing him under some kind of elvish spell. Suddenly Aragorn kissed her on the lips, and she felt a breathtaking wave of love for him soar up like a mountain. She was so absorbed in Aragorn and his amazing kissing that she did not notice him bring her inside and press her lightly to the door in order to close it.
The next she knew when she drew her enticing eyelashes back was how magnificently handsome Aragorn was when he stared at her like that. Her heart was thumping now, rolling quickly and apparently never going to stop. A fond sigh escaped his lips as he trickled a finger adoringly from her brow and past her eyes, to her cheek.
This seemed to enliven her senses, just as he seemed to become occupied in her lips, and she caught sight of a branch of mistletoe dangling low above their heads. Aragorn moved forward to kiss her neck, his lips searching all over her bare skin. Arwen only kept hold of her wits for just long enough, for the second she snapped the mistletoe into her hand, Aragorn lowered her down onto the bed, his knee to one side of her and his body brushing over hers.
"Valar…" she sighed, paralysed under the cocoon of his kissing. Aragorn leisurely looked up, and seeing her eyes shut, ran a thumb over them. Lazily she opened them, and saw his smile on his shining pink lips.
"Arwen?" he whispered curiously, knowing full well what she was thinking but moving up her foxily. His hot breath scorched her throat, making her breathe out passionately. His fingers crawled up her dress, toying at the waist. Slowly Arwen's hand holding the mistletoe descended down until it was just quivering in front of their eyes. Aragorn's pupils in his eyes dilated precariously and he made a soft growling noise as he made to kiss her.
"NO!" Arwen gasped suddenly, and at the last moment he immediately pressed a fervent kiss to her lips. But Arwen felt herself begin to giggle unbearably even as his tongue licked her lips.
"I'm so sorry!" she laughed, forcing herself to break away from the kiss. Aragorn did not complain, but was clearly enjoying the entertainment. His fingers closed around hers, and she thought he was about to take the mistletoe branch from her hands. However halfway through, with his grip slinking around her hands, she realised that he was forcing the mistletoe back down upon them.
"NO! Estel!" Arwen shouted, but she was so helpless with laughter that she could barely lift a finger against him. Aragorn gave a devious smile as he pressed his warm lips to hers, giving her a kiss of life and love fit, not necessarily for a queen, but definitely for a lover covered in snow. He let her breathe, and she did gratefully. "No…" she pleaded once more, weakly imploring him.
"No?" Aragorn whispered, smiling. He ran his fingers through her cool hair. "Perhaps not…" Then he pulled her up and cast the mistletoe down onto the floor. "So come with me…" With a final smile, he took Arwen's hand, and looked her straight back in the eye. Whatever he had in store for her, it would certainly make her giggle even harder.