The room itself provided no source of illumination, but the full moon cast a dim stream of light through the half-open shutters. Arwen blinked a few times to accustom herself to the darkness. All that she could see was a washstand and the bed, its white sheets gleaming in the moonlight. She found herself wondering what stories of previous encounters this bed might be able to tell if it could talk and smiled softly. Tonight it would witness another. She slammed the door shut and pressed Aragorn against it. Some of the water in the jug spilled and splashed on the floor. His lips formed a surprised ‘o’ and Arwen released him hastily.

Her hand flew to her eyes. What had she done? “Oh, I am sorry. I do...”

He placed the jug on the floor, placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. “Why do you show such restraint? Am I not your husband?”

Arwen looked away for a moment, then forced herself to look him straight in the eye. Why was he asking her that? “Yes, you are. But I always thought that a wife should be submissive to her husband.” There, it was said.

Aragorn's expression became grim and he gripped her shoulders so tightly that it hurt. “Who told you this misconception? And does that mean that you did not get all that you desire?”

For an instant, she did not know how to respond. “Yes, no! You give me so much, but there are, ahm, other things that I did not dare ask of you.” Had she really just said that?

Aragorn released her and began to pace. “Arwen, do you trust me so little that you cannot speak to me of your desires? Tell me what I have done wrong and I will try to be a better husband to you.”

Arwen hastened over to him and embraced him tightly. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and blinked furiously. She would not cry now. “You have done nothing wrong, beloved. I was a fool to presume instead of talking to you. I should know you better, forgive me.”

Aragorn removed her hat hand pressed her head against his shoulder. She clutched at him tightly. “Oh, vanimelda, there is nothing to forgive. All is well. It is my greatest wish to see you happy in every matter. So dare not to not dare tell my your every wish.” He nudged her nose and Arwen had to smile.

A wonderful feeling overcame her as she stood there in his embrace. He had never before broached that part of their relationship, and she had not dared to, had not been sure of his reaction. But now the chance was there. “I promise. Come and sit so that we may talk.”

Aragorn went over to the bedside-table and lighted the candle there. Then they made themselves comfortable on the straw mattress and Arwen snuggled herself against him.

She breathed in deeply, smelling the scent that was uniquely him; the sweat from the dancing, the sandalwood soap with which he washed; and if she kissed him, she would taste a trace of red wine that still lingered in his mouth. She pulled the scarf from her head, pushed all troubling thoughts to the back of her mind and turned to him.

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A.N. You can read the rest of the chapter on my Livejournal. The link is in my bio.