They were silent as they climbed the steps up to the bedroom. He motioned for her to enter first, and sidestepped into the washroom as they parted. She gasped slightly upon seeing the bed, though it was almost as she had expected.

There were four lengths of thin rope draped across the mattress, each of them exactly the same size. Silvery in color, they contrasted against the dark sheets, which were another new addition. They were satiny, smooth, but not too slippery.

She sat down and picked up one of the woven pieces and examined it, running it between her fingers. It was still in her hands as he entered and looked down at her for approval.

Briefly, she nodded, and he walked to her, dropping down gracefully to his knees at her feet. Gently, he slid the rope she held out of her grasp with one hand. His other hand took hold of her hand. He tenderly turned it to the side and pressed his lips against her wrist once before securing one end of the rope around it. He was careful to make the knots tight, but not uncomfortable. She shivered as he pulled another length of rope down from its place. The same reverence was given to her other arm, the kiss on the wrist, the diligent tying of the knots.

The other two pieces of rope were pulled off of the bed to rest on the floor. He changed his position so that one foot was pressed upon the ground, his knee creating the perfect place to rest first one delicate foot, and then the other, as each was restrained as her wrists had been. Her ankles were massaged, nuzzled, and peppered with kisses before being bound.

He said nothing as he stood, motioning only for her to center herself. Then he went to the bottom left corner, and grasping the rope, pulled it taught and attached it to the wooden foot that kept the mattress elevated. He moved then to the right side, and upon securing her legs, stood for a moment and looked down at her.

It seemed he was giving her one last chance to stop before they began. There was a word they had already decided upon, but perhaps he knew that she was too stubborn to use it even if she wanted – all the more reason to be sure she knew, and wanted, what she was getting herself into.

She began to open her mouth, but closed it and nodded her head against the pillow she was propped up on. He mirrored her movement, and lowered himself onto the bed, crawling over her body so that he was hovered above her as he pulled one of her wrists up and threaded the rope behind the bedpost. He wrapped it around once, and tightened it slowly. When he heard her give a little gasp, he stopped to loosen it for a moment, and then gave it a small tug so that she grunted. He tied it off there, leaving her to strain just slightly as he moved to the other side.

He did the same to this side: too tight, then slack, then tight again, both sides with matched resistance. She took a deep breath, and felt the strain on her muscles, and groaned. Erestor had certainly been right about the idea she had presented last week – she was either going to hate it or love it. As Galadriel felt a strong hand begin to tease the damp folds between her legs, she was delighted to know it was the latter.