Disclaimer: I don't own anything/anyone from Middle Earth.
Uncertainty Soon Resolved
Aragorn and Arwen sat on their bed, hands clasped together between them. The elf woman's heart beat fast and her breath quickened as she gazed into her lover's eyes, seeing her own love reflected back. Slowly he moved closer and touched their lips together. She kissed him in return, both lingering sweetly.
The Realm was in order, peace restored. Tonight they had put off everything they had to do. As lovers in Rivendell and during the War of the Ring they had always been cautious of others, but now they did not wish to put it off any longer. This night they meant to lie together.
Her lover and king took the fastenings from her hair and let it fall free. Gently Aragorn put a hand on Arwen's dress's fastenings in the back and undid the top. She let him do it, though the thrills made her shiver with delightfully frightening anticipation. The bodice fell loose and hung slack as he deepened the kiss passionately and he ran a hand under it to her back. She let him fall back onto the bed, taking her with him and pull her close, holding her like a kitten.
Arwen ran her hands under his light shirt and up his rids to his shoulders. He let her slide the shirt off, only breaking their kiss for that, then came back again to her mouth. As he all but crushed her in his arms, half turning to lay partially on top of her, she felt something she had never felt before: fear.
She suddenly broke the kiss and sat up, hair falling to either side of her face like a screen. "No," she said, panting and trembling, and tried to pull up the front of her dress higher. She wasn't ready.
"Arwen?" Aragorn asked concernedly, sitting up as well and placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him helplessly, sorrowful to not be able to do what they had so yearned to do for so long.
"I'm not ready," she whispered, and placed a hand on the one of his that rested on her shoulders. "I'm sorry."
He looked at her with concern and saw the tears in her eyes. Aragorn folded her into his strong, firm arms, pulling her back against his chest, head tucked under his chin. "Hush," he whispered, "hush. Not until you're ready." The king kissed her hair, and rocked her gently.
The woman felt the tears spill down her cheeks now, and rested back against him, loving him more than ever simply for his patience. How could she, Arwen Evenstar, daughter of Elrond of Rivendel, immortal elf, not be mature enough to be with him, a man already ready?
"Thank you," she whispered, and turned her face up to his. Aragorn tenderly kissed her, lingering sweetly, and held her gently as she began to tremble slightly.
"Never until you are ready, dear one," he promised as they parted. She saw in his eyes how deeply he meant it and felt as close as she could remember to shame. "It must be your choice."
They stayed silent for a long time, until she brushed her lips against his again. Then he kissed her soundly, and her heart thundered once more, only much more so. She put her arms around his shoulders and neck and returned the passion. The strength of both their desires melted her. Arwen pressed him back onto the bed and he leaned back, only to stop, propping himself on his elbow with one arm and holding her in the other, and gaze into her eyes uncertainly.
"Beloved?"
She pressed down again and smiled gently at him from her new position on top, arms on either side of his shoulders, then pressed herself, lips and body, on top of him. "I just thought too much about it to do anything." Aragorn put his arms around her with no more hesitation.
"Let's not think, then," he suggested, and Arwen gasped as he pulled her unresisting form close.