I awaken, and let my mind drift up like a swimmer rising from deep waters. The canopy over the bed fills my vision, until I turn my head and see Him, sleeping soundly next to me. And I am fully awake with one thought...
...Herven nin.
I slip silently out of our wedding bed, and cross the room to my wardrobe. My crimson dressing gown is more than enough raiment for now. Padding on bare feet, I find my chair near the hearth, and the glasses and bottle we left there as we talked. My precious Duillond Black, the most potent of all Elvish wines, pales when set to the intoxicating thoughts I entertain as I gaze into the hearth, feeling its warmth against my feet and limbs. And I muse...
In the course of one day, all that I have ever known has changed. I am no longer unloved; I am a lover. I am no longer a maid; I am a woman. I am no longer alone; I am someone's bride.
A bitter child for six thousand summers - a bride for a day - a wife for always.
Cutch and I have so much to talk about, and all our life together to do it. Yes, his life, not mine - even with his newly-discovered Elvish heritage, he is a Mortal still. But if the events of yesterday proved nothing else, there is this: I do not care.
I do not care if his skin is cool - the heat of our desire last night was without his ointments which warmed his skin before. We no longer need them.
I do not care if he is Mortal, or (what was the math?) one-eighth Sindar. In my mind and heart, he is mine, and that is all.
I do not care what others of my kin might think of my taking a Mortal to my bed and my heart. I do not claim to be Mithrellas, or Aegnor, or Idril, or even Luthien. Their stories are theirs; I shall write my own.
My beloved stirs in his sleep. I glance out the window - the sun is rising on Torech Besruth. The first dawn of our marriage. I cannot allow this moment to pass. I set my glass down, and hasten back to the bed and awaken my drowsy Mortal with a kiss on the nose.
"Awake, husband-mine. The Sun is rising - come watch it with me!"
