Reunited and it feel so good!

Author's Note One: This short little ficlet, almost like a lengthy drabble, can pretty much be placed anywhere before or after the Fellowship—so long as Aragorn and Arwen have been apart from each other for awhile. I didn't really go into specifics (because, let's face it, I wrote it for fluff purposes only). :)

Summary: "She was as perfect as he remembered her, perhaps even more so now then ever, so long had it been since his eyes, shining now with eager anticipation, had last seen her." A short, sweet drabble of Aragorn and Arwen seeing each other for the first time in awhile. A little heads up: insanely fluffy.

-Insert usual disclaimer here- The Elvish I used in this fic (there isn't much and, naturally, translations are provided) was acquired thanks to a wonderful site full of Elvish translations. If anyone knows anything about the language and sees any mistakes, I apologize, all I wanted to do was give it a shot and use it in my writing: I am fully aware I'm one of the Lord of the Rings writers that can only copy and paste. No talent for the Elvish language here, folks!

Author's Note Two: I hope you enjoy this more romantic side of me (and perhaps wish to review it at the end?). Truthfully, I've never written anything this fluffy before. I'm a teensy bit nervous to see anyone read this, and I find it all dreadfully embarrassing. –hides her face behind her hands–

-xXx-

She was as perfect as he remembered her, perhaps even more so now then ever, so long had it been since his eyes, shining now with eager anticipation, had last seen her. With something like coincendence, they had arrived just now at their designated meeting place at the bridge at exactly the same moment, he on one side and she on the other. Her eyes found his at the moment he found hers, and her features, so beautiful already, were made even lovelier by the open joy that overcame them.

His feet, tired and travel-weary moments before, were suddenly capable of taking those few extra steps to her. His body was suddenly rid of all aches and sores, pain or weariness. He felt refreshed and wholly renewed, as if the past months of hardships had never happened: such was her power over him. They met halfway in the middle of their bridge, inches away from each other, and she gave him a smile he had only been able to see recently in his dreams.

"Many months have past," she began softly, and his heart fluttered faster to hear her voice again; "since your arrival was expected. Ada was beginning to fear injury had befallen you…or worse." She spoke of her father's anxiety, but the worry that she had felt at his delay was no more evident to him had she told him of it aloud. His heart ached to see her distressing at something of his doing.

Instinctively, he reached out for her, drawing her to him; she fit perfectly in the crook of his arms, her head in his chest, her arms around her shoulders, one hand stroking her hair while the other held her all the closer to him. It had been too long since he had held her in his arms. "Amin hiraetha," he said after a moment, "I am sorry. I'm sorry you worried over me."

"Oh, do not be sorry, my love," she said, and a hint of amusement could almost be heard in her voice. She moved so that they were not standing as close as they had before, but still they were each holding the other. She raised a hand up to his face, running it down the line of his cheek, feeling the stubble of a beard that grew there. "Don't be sorry," she repeated, "for you are here now, at long last, safe in body and well in health. And you are back here, with me. That is all that matters."

Overwhelmed by the rush of emotion and love, he placed his lips over hers; so powerful was her response, he felt as if she wouldn't have been unable to not respond even if she'd wanted to. The kiss only served as a greeting, not lasting long before they pulled apart, she being the one to separate her lips from his. He let her pull away, but she was still at arm's length. She smiled up at him, while he gazed at her lovingly, longingly, and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"I have missed you," he said, never moving the palm of his hand from her cheek, "all this time I've been away, I've missed you." His grey eyes took the time to take her in like someone long deprived from food—for a long time he looked, marveling in her tranquility, in her peace, perfection, gracefulness.

She took the opportunity, while he could do nothing but stand and stare, to lean up and kiss his cheek lightly, knowing he would read that she'd missed him too in her kisses and touches alone. Somehow, both of his hands tucked their way into her own; his so battle-scarred and rough to the touch, but alive with gentleness when he held her, and her hands, still smooth and soft, pale and radiating with warmth.

"Lle naa vanima, melamin," he whispered, "you are beautiful, my love. Still my heart is yours, and you alone does it love."

"Oh, and how much do I love you!" she said, and embraced him once more; if she closed her eyes to listen, she could feel his heartbeat in his chest. She had no doubt that he heard hers as well, and rejoiced in it. She looked up at him, not for the first time that night meeting his gaze. "And so my heart also belongs to you," she said, "Aragorn, son of Arathorn, my beloved, my Estel."

All she had murmured was his name, and yet this seemed to undo him. His voice, when he spoke, revealed poorly hidden desire, so strong and full of his love that he only just managed to mutter one single, solitary thing.

"Arwen…"

The effect this had on her was much the same as his name had on him; she embraced him all the tighter still, her lips captured without hesitation by his own. She closed her eyes, and kissed him longer, their lips pressed hard together, molded as one, saying what couldn't be said with words. This was not anything like their short kiss early that evening; this kiss was free of all boundaries, unaware of time, and dictated only by love. It was the sweet kiss of reunion.