#tirien

"More?" He probed, weighing the misshapen ball of ice in his hand. It was bigger than the one before it, clear as spring water, and smelled of cold mountain air. 

This one should last a little longer, he thought. 

Arien licked her lips and nodded. "Please."

He obliged. Placed it between her breasts and dragged it down, past her ribcage and lower still, and she trembled, welcoming the icy chill. Her eyes found his. Molten silver darkened with each moment, with each tremble and quickening breath. 

"I have missed you," he whispers. 

"And I you," she replies without hesitation. 

They have been apart for too long. Far too long in her own mind. Now the darkness that threatened to dim the new lights was gone, captured, and imprisoned within the void. They were free. Their role as protectors was no longer needed. They returned to the world they once walked in and found their way to each other like they did, many an age ago. Now they were here, within the heart of Valmar itself, alone in the chambers they once called home. 

Tilion watched as the ice slowly melts over golden flesh. The water bubbled, then hissed, then turned go steam before it was gone altogether. Tilion did not reach for more ice. He dipped his head, and ran his tongue over her heated flesh. It was as sweet as he remembered it. Then he stopped, and used his touch instead.

His palm wass cold. Not as cold as the ice, but cold all the same. It drifted over soft curves and lush hips, over skin that had been bathed in the heat and glory of the sun. He explored still, silent, and in wonder, unable to put into words how beautiful Arien was. 

"You stare, my lord." Ripe little lips curved into a most wicked grin. "Is there something about me that draws your eye?"

Tilion flushed. Then smiled. "Everything about you draws the eye. Have I not told you this before?"

"Never. You wound me, my lord."

"Tis a most grievous mistake, sweet lady. One which will never be made again."

"Good. Or else I shall have to chastise you the next time you give offense."

"And here I thought chastising was my province."

Arien laughed. It is a bright, golden laugh that brings back memories of a time spent running through lush fields beneath starlit skies and resting beneath the golden leaves of Laurelin. Memories of that laughter were all that kept Tilion aloft sometimes. He did not know how much he had craved to hear that laughter again until now. 

"Indeed." Arien agreed. "Continue, my lord."

Tilion smirked. He continued to touch her, drinking in the breathtaking glory of her body: the fiery golden hair, the eyes that held quiet flame, the tapered hands, and elegant fingers that would, at one time, knit around his own. 

And now that time has come again. Tilion leaned down and kissed her. His finger slipped into the wet heat between her thighs. Arien whimpered, and arched her back. Her nails dig into the sheets and the featherbed beneath them. 

"There," she whisperd in his ear. "Touch me there. Right there. Oh."

Tilion drove into her, again, and again, and again, his kisses drowning out her cries. When was the last time they kissed like this? Touched each other in such a manner? 

Before the darkening, Arien thought. That was when. 

Tilion could not come near her after that, not after she was tasked with guarding the sun. The heat from the new light and the heat she carried within simply mingled and grew from the sheer proximity alone. Anything, or anyone, who dared to come near would be scorched and blackened. It had grieved her deeply, to be so near him and yet so far apart. 

Now it is over. Thank Eru for that. 

She shivered again, her nerves tingling all at once. Tilion had drawn back. He was putting yet another clear piece of ice to use. He turns to look at her, his eyes now clouded with lust. Arien nearly howls from the loss of his touch. 

"The chill is wonderful, to be sure, but it is not enough. I need you," she pleads. "You. All of you. Please."

Tirion chuckled softly. "Far be it from me to deny you, especially now, when we are finally together after many an age apart."

His mouth opened over hers. His lips and tongue were as sweet as she remembered. Tilion kisses with heat and wildness and deep yearning; it leads to her unraveling, to fresh arousal pooling between her thighs. Her hands tremble even as they guide his cock inside of her. Her legs wrap around him, pulling him closer. They are as smooth as silk to him, as warm as a fiery sunrise. Tilion made a whimpering sound when he was sheathed within her completely. He took a moment to gather himself and breathe. He then moved, gently at first, and tenderly.

She feels so fucking good. With each clench and flutter, with each sigh and mewl, he spiraled and slowly lost himself in her flesh. So fucking good.

"Does this feel good?" He asked. A familiar pair of arms slid around his waist. Nails raked down his back; the pain left only heightening his arousal. His groans were husky. They vibrated softly against her throat and served to magnify her own pleasure.

"Yes." Arien trembled every time he rolled his hips against the insides of her thighs and sank himself into her core. The cold coming off him was now stronger. It jolted her and ignited the white-hot sparks that she had hungered to feel for longer than she could even remember. "But I want you to fuck me harder. Harder, my lord. Please. Please."

That is enough for him. Tilion was relentless now, his cheeks clenching with each thrust. Arien moaned, bucking and writhing beneath him. The heels of her feet dig into his back, pushing him deeper, urging him to go even harder, and faster. Tilion gladly obliged, rising to his knees and taking her with him, taking her higher and higher until the world went dark in her eyes and dissolved all around her. She cried out his name. The sheer desperation of it stunned him and stole his breath. He jolted, his fana pulled taut like a bow string. Tilion could not hold on any longer. He yielded, burying his face in spills of thick, fiery hair while he splintered and emptied himself inside of her. 

Arien felt like she was drifting, like she was slowly floating back to the earth on a gentle current. She sighed in contentment and opened her eyes. Tilion was still there, holding her; the cold radiating off him was now gentle and soothing. He shifted and laid her back in bed. He then lay beside her, his arm draped lazily over her belly. 

"Let us stay here a while," he entreated. "And not leave anytime soon."

Arien consented. She did not want to leave his side. "Nothing would please me more."