This is me having a brief interlude in the writing of Mistletoe - I have writer's block :( It's very annoying....
But anyways, here's to hoping you like this pointless work of fluff.... if you do, I may continue.... if you get down on your knees and beg me.... hehe...

Dedication: Cerridwen, yet again because I missed you loads when you were away! :-D ::hugs:: And also to Claire, Helena, Anya, Viviana and all the other friends I have made from !

Disclamier: it all belongs to tolkien.... still. And it doesn't look as though it's going anywhere, seeing as he's dead. RIP, oh creator of my god Aragorn.

A/N: Amelí is no form of Elvish I know of, I just liked the sound of it, and I don't think it means 'most beautiful', so don't flame me for that.

Aragorn held his baby daughter to his chest, rubbing her back in circles, trying to soother her as she cried. Arwen had given birth to her less than a month ago and hadn't had a full night's sleep since. He knew how tired his wife was, and was desperately trying to calm the little princess so her naneth could get some sleep.

They had named her Amelí, meaning 'most beautiful', and Aragorn couldn't argue with that. Even though her tiny face was screwed up as she cried, she was so gorgeous. She had Arwen's dark hair and deep blue eyes, porcelain skin and full, pink lips. The only thing she had of his were his nose and round ears, like Eldarion's. She was so warm against him and so light in his arms that he felt he could hold her forever. If only she would stop crying.

He hated it when she or Eldarion got upset: he felt it was his job as their ada to protect them from everything, though Arwen assured him that there were some things he could not prevent - he just had to be there when they went wrong.

When Amelí's crying did not desist he began to walk slowly around the room, rocking her gently, singing an Elvish lullaby: but to no avail. It seemed she was too tired to even think about going to sleep, like any older person would. She was so innocent and curiously unaware of the world though that her parents couldn't help but love her, no matter how long she kept them awake for.

Just as Aragorn was contemplating waking his wife and seeing if Amelí needed feeding, he heard her rise quietly from the bed and walk over to where he was stood by the fire. "Here, let me take her," Arwen said, hiding a yawn.

Aragorn pressed a kiss to her lips as he passed their first daughter to her naneth. "How long have you been awake for?" he asked his wife, sitting on the bed as he watched her comfort her child.

She smiled tiredly, shifting Amelí in her arms, murmuring softly to her. "Since you got up," she said honestly.

He mirrored her smile, but there was no amusement in his voice. "I'm sorry meleth," he said, watching in amazement as she turned to reveal Amelí fast asleep in her arms. "How did you do that?" he whispered incredulously.

Arwen grinned and stroked her daughter's soft hair. "Elven touch," she shrugged, with that sparkle in her eye that Aragorn knew she kept only for him. She felt a sudden rush of love for him then - he worked so hard to do the best by everyone; closing Eldarion's door so he wouldn't be woken by his sister, trying to soothe Amelí, trying not to wake her.

She walked slowly to the bed and climbed in carefully, holding her second child to her chest. Even though she still bore the signs of childbirth, Aragorn couldn't help but stare, mesmirised by the image of utter perfection she portrayed. She was a wife, friend, mother and lover all at the same, though she carried all these roles as effortlessly as he carried Andúril.

"What are you looking at?" Arwen asked, drawing him from his reverie to see the enchanting smile on her face as she settled Amelí next to her.

He lay back on the bed, smiling as he observed his wife and four-week-old daughter. "Nothing," he lied, leaning on his arm as he reached out his other to touch her tiny cheek, lauging softly as she took his finger in her hand and refused to let go, even in sleep.

Arwen moved over, so close that her head was next to her husband's, their bodies only the width of their daughter apart. They were silent for a while, just watching her sleep, so small and perfect in her angelic innocence. Eventually Aragorn managed to tear his gaze away, only to look upon a sight he enjoyed even more, if that were possible.

Arwen was unaware of his eyes upon her until she felt his lips brush hers, and she reached out to run her hand across his bearded cheek. "Can you believe we made this?" He asked quietly, love shining so brightly in is eyes that Arwen felt the sting of tears in her own. "Can you believe we made our two beautiful children out of our love?"

She smiled and kissed him, sliding her hand slowly up his arm. The sheer strength of his body made her feel safer than any fortress walls or armed guards ever could, and she wished suddenly for him to hold her and never let go. "I can believe it," she said softly, her mouth so close to his that her breath tickled his lips, "Because whenever I look into your eyes, I see how you love me and I know that is all I will ever need."

Their eyes locked then and Arwen saw that love; the air she breathed, the kindling of a flame in her heart, the feeling of flying amongst the stars that sent shivers down her spine. A breathless sigh escaped her at the strength of the emotion that surrounded her, and when her husband captured her lips in a soft kiss, a single tear fell from under her eyelid, closely followed by more.

She buried her head in his chest, welcoming as much of his embrace as was possible without hurting their daughter. He pressed a kiss to the top of his wife's head, soothing her with quiet words.

"Amin mela lle," he whispered, "Vanya Undómielnya." He noticed Amelí was still holding his finger, and pointed it out to his wife, electing a small laugh from her.

She sniffed slightly and wiped her eyes. "She won't let go, you know," she said, brushing her finger over the smooth curve of their daughter's ear. "Now she's got you, you're hers until she's married."

Aragorn smiled, pulling his wife closer after leaning over to blow out the candle. "We've got a long time to go until then," he told her, closing his eyes as he felt sleep beginning to wash over him. "A time of laughter and happiness. A time of love..."

And as King Elessar and his Queen slipped together into the world of dreams, their tiny daughter held her ada's finger tighter and moved slightly in her sleep. There was no place in the world where she would ever feel more loved than safely between her parents - there was no place she would rather be.

Elvish: Amin mela lle, Vanya Undómielnya -I love you, my beautiful Evenstar

Thanks to everyone who reviewed Mistletoe... like I said, writer's block is annoying me at the moment... but nice reviews seem to dissipate it.... ;D