Chapter Text
“You look lovely,” he murmured. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”
Sigrid blushed but met his eyes squarely in the mirror as she tilted her head to the side. He took the invitation and kissed her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his neck for a moment before sliding her hand to his bearded cheek and tilting his head up to look at her. Before she could change her mind, she pressed her lips to his and held him there.
The kiss started chastely, slowly growing more heated as Fili pulled away and returned again and again. Sigrid turned in her seat, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. He licked her lower lip and she sighed softly against his mouth.
Fili drew her up from her seat and held onto her, still kissing her gently. “Come to bed with me,” he rasped, eyes half-lidded and dark with passion.
She kissed him again and let him lead her to the bed.
“Will you tell me if you need anything? Even if it is to stop?” Fili asked as they reached the bedside. She’d shucked her robe off at some point as they moved.
Sigrid swallowed against the nerves and fear cloying at the back of her throat. She could do this. Releasing a breath, she nodded to him and fought to smile, her lips tugging up shakily.
Fili pushed lightly on her arms, steering her. “Sit down?” he asked and Sigrid tried to focus on him, on his continual courtesy and kindness, his constant need to always give her a choice.
She sat and he stepped closer. She tried to breathe deeply discreetly as he came to a stop with his legs pressed against hers and leaned forward. She could feel her heart pounding away in her chest, her blood pumping loudly in her ears. He placed his hands on either side of her, near her hips on the bed. “That’s better,” he murmured and leaned in to kiss her. The angle was different, easier on her back as she met him at equal levels instead of bending to accommodate his shorter stature. She relaxed a bit as he dragged his tongue across her lips, the scrape of his beard and mustache a comforting and familiar feeling to her. She opened her mouth and sighed as he tasted her, running his tongue across hers, along her pallet, behind her teeth as if he were slowly mapping every inch he could reach. His hands shifted from the bed beneath her, fingers gliding along the fabric of her nightdress down her thighs until he found the bare skin of her knees.
She tried not to tense but must have a little as he stopped there, rubbing his thumbs along the tendons and tight muscles. He applied slight pressure and it took her a moment to realize what he wanted. She swallowed thickly, his tongue still exploring her mouth eagerly. She took courage from the small growling sound he made, wrapping her hands into the loose tunic he wore, slackening her grip slightly when he flinched a bit. He didn’t move further from her and she forced herself to relax, to let him push her legs aside so he could lean forward between her knees.
He pulled her closer to him until the only space between them was created by her hands still holding his tunic tightly. She gasped at the feel of him pressed so closely, tilting her head back and breaking the kiss.
If she’d had the breath, she would have gasped when he kissed her jaw, the brush of his beard sending a thrill down her spine, tightening the muscles there and making her arch toward him, heat searing away from his lips and down to her chest. He didn’t stop there, licking and mouthing at her neck briefly before pulling away, his cheek rubbed deliciously against her jaw and her lungs somehow found the air to gasp in her breathlessness at the feeling. A strange sense of relief and disappointment flooded through her at the loss of contact, her hands tightening unconsciously in his shirt.
He swooped in again, his head tipped the opposite direction as he attacked the other side of her neck. He licked and kissed his way from just above her collarbone toward her ear. He paused a moment, his lips pressed firmly to her neck and she could swear he could feel her heartbeat hammering beneath her skin at the point. She could feel his mouth pressing against her pulse, his lips parting and tongue darting out to taste her skin. His teeth scraped across the point and more heat flared beneath her skin.
He started down her neck again, this time adding the occasional scrape of his teeth. She fought not to squirm beneath him at the sensation his teeth and beard caused.
His fingers slid up her legs, beneath her shift and she fought the instinct to stop him as long as she could. When his hands drifted along her smallclothes, she couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed his wrists.
His breath came quick and hard as he pulled away from her neck after a final, gentle kiss. He watched her silently for a moment before his hands slid back down her legs. Conflicting emotions surged through her as the desire to have his hands continue their journey up her legs and the mortification of her unfamiliar and base desire for him warred within her. Worst of all was the resignation that started his shoulders sagging.
“No, it’s all right,” Sigrid said and she forced herself to release his wrists. “I just-” she broke off, unsure of what to say.
He leaned away from her and she lifted her hands to reach for him. He caught her wrists in his large hands, calluses scraping across the sensitive, thin skin that showed her veins near her hands. Instead of pushing her away as she feared, he drew her closer, placing her fingers on the bottom hem of his tunic. She glanced up at him to see a small smile dancing across his handsome face. “When you’re ready,” he said and she marveled a bit at how steady his voice was despite the heated desire dripping from his tone, “you can start with me.” His lips caught hers as she smiled, grateful for the control he’d just given her. She let him back into her mouth as she slid her hands around him, pulling him close. She gathered her courage and slipped her fingers up the back of his tunic. She hesitated before carefully resting her hands on his skin. She started running her fingers along his back from his spine to his sides and back again.
He groaned and arched his back slightly into her hands, his lips pulling away from hers. He dropped his head onto her shoulder. She almost laughed but her breath caught in her throat when his lips sealed to the skin on her neck, licking and nipping at the flesh there and what little was bared by the neckline of her nightdress. He worked his way up and down the column of her throat. She couldn’t help the sighs that escaped her or the need to move as warmth trailed down from wherever his mouth touched to her chest, the skin tightening more. Her breasts started to ache curiously.
Instead of stopping at her jaw as he usually did, he kept moving his path upward until-
She squeaked and her nails scraped along his back as her fingers curled instinctively into fists when he licked the shell of her ear. The ache in her chest increased and an odd, unfamiliar sensation throbbed in her lower abdomen. She wasn’t positive, but she could swear that something dripped from her body between her legs.
The sensation only increased when he licked her ear again before clamping his lips around the shell and tugging. He slipped his tongue into her ear and her gasp turned quickly into a breathy yelp. She shifted and wriggled at the unfamiliarity and the need to feel it again. She reached up for his shoulders, his tunic bunching at her elbows. In turn, his hands slid up her legs again, only moving the hem of her dress a couple of inches this time.
“Fili,” she tried to beg, for what she didn’t know, but her voice only came out in a gasping whisper. He licked along her ear once more before returning to kissing her lips repeatedly. Her hands finally found his shoulders.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he rumbled, his shoulders flexing under her hands. She rotated her hands without thinking, gripping his tunic and pulling it over his head and down his arms. He leaned back briefly so she could get it off him. She dropped it to the floor, ignoring the brief worry at her actions. She was pretty sure he cared about as much as she did about the current location of his tunic. She hesitated again before setting her hands on his waist, shaking at the sudden nearness of him in such a state of undress.
She wanted to feel more, she realized and tried not to question the desire. She slid her hands up his sides and peaked at him when the muscles under her hands flinched away briefly. Had she hurt him? Did he not like it when she touched him there?
His answering grin was all mischief and he flexed under her fingers. The strange, pleasant heat in her abdomen pulsed again and she blushed. He chuckled deeply. Instead of pulling away in her embarrassment, she pressed her hands more firmly to his sides and hid her face by leaning in to kiss his neck. He tipped his head away from her and it was suddenly easier to press her lips to his heated skin.
She remembered the feel of his teeth and beard against her neck, the flash of desire it had elicited in her. Curious, she bit his neck gently, releasing him immediately at the grunt that escaped him. She licked the abused spot and his hands gripped at her legs, massaging gently with his fingertips. She bit down again, wondering if the noise had been one of pleasure or pain. His body lurched towards her and she peaked at him. The look in his eye both excited and terrified her. She hid her face in his neck again, placing open mouthed kisses along his throat.
She felt him slide his hands up her legs again and she squirmed at the touch, fighting her instinct to stop him. This was allowed. They were married. He could touch her and her reputation would not suffer. She had kept it intact for so long for him. For his sake. So that this moment wouldn’t be marred by memories of another.
With those thoughts in mind, she gathered her courage and let him continue until his hands reached her hips. He dragged his thumbs along the joints where her legs and hips met sending fire scorching through her body down to her toes.
“Fili,” she murmured and leaned back onto her hands, reveling in the pleasant haze drifting through her mind, the warmth and desire in her abdomen, and especially the heavy ache in her breasts.
“Feeling’s mutual Ibrizinlêkhê,” he told her and dropped his mouth to her shoulder where he sucked lightly. More fire trailed under her skin and into her breasts and the ache only increased there.
“Doubtful,” she told him. She gathered her courage as she reached for his hand. When she found his arm, she tugged it away from her leg, out from beneath her shift. She slid her fingers down his arm to his hand and placed his palm on her waist. The warmth from his fingers a comfort to her rapidly dwindling courage. Before she lost it all, she pulled his hand up her side. Just beneath her breast, she lost her courage but not the desire curling within her. She let go of his hand and placed hers behind her again to help her stay sitting upright.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She couldn’t bring herself to say no despite the part of her that screamed at the impropriety. The heat was unbearable, the ache insatiable. She swallowed against a dry throat. “Touch,” she whispered, a distant part of her quailing in fear as the rest of her screamed for his hands to do something about the feelings he was creating. With shaking hands, she sat up straight again and caught his head in her hands. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Instead, she pulled him down to her neck and shoulder, desperate for his lips to return to her skin.
He obliged her, his tongue trailing across her throat and his hand sliding up the last of the distance to her breast.
She gasped and her head fell back as she arched into the searing heat of this touch. His thumb shifted across her nipple and she cried his name, desperate for more friction, more contact, more anything.
His hand dropped from her breast and she could have cried out again if she could find her breath. When he caught her breast in his open mouth, she dug her hands into his hair, trying to pull him closer still as he lavished the hard nub through the thin material of her shift.
He laid her gently on the bed, letting her sag back against his arm. His legs pressed against the insides of her thighs and she shifted back, awkwardly pulling herself higher on the bed until her head reached the pillows. He followed her progress closely, for which she was grateful and also disappointed as he took his hand from her hip to help him climb after her. The feeling was short lived as they settled more fully on the mattress and he tugged the neck of her nightgown down, exposing more of her breast. His mouth found her bare skin and she arched upward when he sucked and bit at her flesh.
She gripped his arms, trying to find a way to ask for the touch she so desired. “Fili, please,” she panted.
He pulled away from her and arched a single eyebrow at her. “Please what My Sigrid?” he whispered.
Oh, how she needed his hands on her, to feel his sure strength and gentleness. With a quick prayer for courage, she found his hands again and set them on her dress’s hem. The material bunched and relaxed beneath his dexterous fingers. She watched them for a moment before looking up at him and his eyes met hers questioningly.
Trying to take a deep breath without him noticing, she lifted her hips away from the bed in silent permission. He took it and pulled dress up, past her thighs, past her hips, over her belly until it bunched where her back and shoulder blades still rested on the bed. She rocked up into a sitting position and lifted her arms over her head. She lost sight of him briefly as the white fabric covered her vision.
And then she was free and mostly bare before him. She fought the need to cross her arms over her chest, to hide from his thirsty gaze. “Absolutely stunning,” he said and leaned over her again, bracing himself on his forearms above her. His mouth returned to her neck and shoulder, trailing kisses down her skin, down her breast. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, gripping it gently in his teeth as his tongue darted across it repeatedly.
She keened his name again, pulling him closer. He sucked harder and she lost all control, crying out wordlessly as her hips lifted away from the mattress once again, trying to find contact, heat, friction, strength, reassurance, something, anythi-
Something hard and very large pressed against her hip, at odds with the contour of his own hips and thighs. She froze as the realization of what it was crashed over her. What in the name of the Valar was she doing?
He looked up at her questioningly again, a hint of fear and hurt on his face in the way his eyebrows came together and the lines around his lips. She forced her mouth shut and swallowed back the sudden apprehension inside her.
He lifted away from her, once again taking his weight more fully onto his arms and knees. “Sigrid?” he asked before she could think of how to take away the look on his face and replace it with the unfettered contentment that had been there while he’d been exploring her body.
She tried to find something to say. “I didn’t expect- I wasn’t sure-” she rasped, trying to find something. How could she explain this? She wanted to be with him. Her physical responses so far had been proof of that. She’d started this, but she hadn’t been expecting, hadn’t realized what all that would mean. And the sheer size of what she’d felt. How was she supposed to take him inside her without being hurt? Embarrassment flared across her cheeks at the thought and she swallowed again. Her eyes focused above them on the ceiling and she absently thought about making a canopy for the bed someday soon. Finally, she found something to say, something true, something disconcerting and terrifying. “It’s so big,” she finally choked out.
“Are you worried?” he asked.
She almost laughed but nodded instead. Of course, she was worried.
“We can stop-”
She shook her head before he could pull away. She could do this. She wanted this. Really she did. It was just all so new. “No. I can- We can keep going,” she finally said.
He planted a quick kiss on her lips. “My wonderful, brave Sigrid,” he said and took her hands again, leaning back on his knees. She believed his words and shifted her hand to help lace their fingers together.
He pulled her other hand toward him, setting it both on his skin and the fabric of his trousers. He pressed her thumb under the waistband. “Go at your pace,” he said encouragingly before returning to kiss her again.
The heat inside her flared anew as he sucked gently on her breast, tongue lavishing across her nipple. Her hands tightened. Before she could second-guess herself, she started shoving Fili’s trousers down past his hips as far as she could reach. He shifted and maneuvered above her until he managed to kick his trousers away towards the foot of the bed.
He rolled to the side, breathing heavily and pulled her close, drawing her head up onto his bicep and keeping his other arm wrapped around her shoulders. Instinctively, she drew her knees up and tucked her arms close to her chest to create a little space, tucking her head beneath this chin, appreciating the break as she gathered her thoughts again. He wrapped his arms around her while they caught their breath with the sudden change in position.
They lay together in only their small clothes and Sigrid breathed deeply, letting the familiar smell of parchment, sweat, and hot summer sunlight that came off his skin sooth her frazzled nerves. Being in his arms, curled up tightly and warm helped settle her racing thoughts even as she yearned for and feared what was still to come. She wanted him. She needed the feel of him. She balked at the desire within her and still reached for him, her fingers trailing through his chest hair. She warred with her emotions, trying to define the anticipatory, fearful, wonderful longing within her, unable to define what it all added up to, or unwilling to think on it too deeply as Fili’s mouth found hers as he massaged little circles into the skin of her sides.
He trailed kisses down her chest and slid his fingers into the waist of her small clothes. He paused long enough to look up at her, eyes dark and hooded as he tugged on the cloth still over her hips. She shifted, allowing him to pull them off her. He grinned the cheeky grin she found so very attractive before trailing his lips, tongue, and teeth down her side, following the path of her small clothes down her legs until she was bare next to him.
Unwilling to be the only one in such a state, Sigrid reached for him and removed his small clothes as well. She swallowed and turned her eyes quickly back to his face when she caught her first glimpse of him.
He returned to his spot next to her, tucking one arm beneath her head and trailing his fingers through her hair. “May I?” Fili asked, placing a hand carefully on her now bare hip, the weight of intent on the single touch.
Sigrid nodded, fighting against the tremors chasing their way down her body. “Just go slow,” she said and reached her hands up to run them through his hair in an attempt to distract herself from what was about to happen.
His lips pressed to her forehead as his hand slid along her stomach, pausing briefly when he found the curls of hair on her abdomen beneath her navel. She flinched at the unfamiliar, slightly ticklish sensation his touch created. To cover it, she shifted onto her back but scooted closer to him, trying to bring his warmth into her. He hissed when she bumped him near his waist with her leg and she realized what had just happened. She fought against the urge to cover her face in mortification.
Oh, this was hard. This was all new. All unfamiliar. Yet, she wanted it. She wanted him with a deep passion. Cultural standards could follow Smaug into a watery grave in the lake.
She shifted her legs, giving him room to touch her in the most intimate of ways.
His fingers ghosted down her body and her hips jumped involuntarily up into his hand when he touched her. His grip became firmer as he continued to move his fingers and she struggled to keep from crying out in some unfamiliar, unnamed need.
One large finger traced around her core, his lips brushing against her neck as he murmured her name in what sounded like worship.
Feeling his fingers so intimately against her, threatening to enter her, pushed her beyond reason. She gasped and writhed against his hand. His thumb moved, seeking, searching, and suddenly her world fell apart when he found a bundle of nerves. She felt him pressing firmly against something that shot fire down to the soles of her feet. Her muscles contracted and she couldn’t find a moment to draw breath. She could still feel him touching her and she dropped back against the bed. She ground her hips against his hand, needing more of the heat, of the friction, of the release from that pressure that had been mounting so strongly inside her. He pressed harder and she arched again briefly until the feeling drained away before collapsing back to the bedding, shuddering slightly in the aftermath.
It took her a few minutes to focus her mind beyond the pleasured haze and hints of lethargy and the need to breathe. When she could, she blinked her eyes open – and when had she closed them? – and looked at Fili. “What just happened?” she asked, unsure.
His answering smile was all smug happiness. “Did you enjoy that?” Fili asked.
The moan that escaped her should have made her blush. Instead, she shifted, seeking the feeling of his hand pressing firmly against her again.
Her breath caught in her lungs when one of his fingers slid into her, the feeling of smoldering, burning heat coursing out away from his touch and setting her body alive and so very aware of his touch. He froze and she didn’t know whether to be grateful for the chance to just feel him inside her for the first time or to whine in displeasure at his lack of movement.
“Let me know if you need to stop,” he said and started to shift that single finger the slightest bit. She struggled to feel more of him inside her, no longer caring about propriety. She just needed to feel him inside her, feel that incredible, burning release once again. She wanted to reach for him but couldn’t seem to get her hands to release the bedding beneath her. When Fili sucked one breast into his mouth again, she bucked into his hand at the added sensation.
“More,” she pleaded, not quite sure what she wanted more of. “Please, Fili. More.”
He pulled away from her and she whined out in protest, ready to beg him to return. The plea died instantly as she yelped at the sudden tight stretch around two of his fingers entering her as well as his thumb once again finding that bundle of nerves that had sent her spiraling into burning coals and desire once that night already. He rubbed the spot in a small circle. She moaned his name deep in her throat as he moved his fingers around inside her.
“Fili, please,” she gasped when a third finger pushed into her. She somehow managed to release the sheets beneath them and reached up to grab his hair. She pulled, bringing him back to her mouth for a deep, needy kiss. She held him there as his fingers left her body and he moved to kneel between her legs. His fingers slid along her core. He broke the kiss and she gulped in air, trying to remember how to breathe properly.
“Ready?” he asked, looming over her, hope and a bit of determination in the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight upturn to his lips.
She nodded, eager to feel more of what he could do to her.
He pressed into her, larger than his fingers, blunt and hard. Her body protested. She dropped her hands from his hair to his arms, gripping them in pain as she shouted in agony.
He stopped. “Sigrid?” he asked, fear and worry marring his tone.
She struggled against the pain. “I’m all right,” she said. “Just hold still. Let me-” she paused, searching for a word “-adjust.”
She breathed deeply, waiting and willing her tense muscles to relax even as her body tried to tighten around the sudden intrusion. When the uncomfortable burning stretch eased, she relaxed her grip on his arm and nodded. She rolled her hips experimentally, only daring to move a little. He moved with her, pushing into her a little more. The pain returned and she gripped his arms. Again he stopped and waited for her to nod and slacken her grip. They kept up the pattern a few more times until he was pressed firmly against her and deep inside her body, no longer able to push further.
Once the worst of the pain receded, she nodded to him and patted his arm. He pulled away and pressed into her again.
The sensation was almost overwhelming. Comfortable warmth overrode the remains of the aching pain low in her abdomen. She pushed up onto her elbows. “Kiss me,” she asked and he obliged enthusiastically.
Dimly, a part of her was appalled at her actions, at her utter need to feel the pleasure again, at the desire to have his hands on her, to keep him thrusting deeply into her.
She ignored the feeling, shifting her hips to meet his thrusts as best she could through her haze of pleasure. He reached between them and his hand found the bundle of nerves he’d rubbed before.
If the feeling had been wonderful the last time, the sensation now was overwhelming in its ecstasy. She arched into him, screaming wordlessly even as he kissed her thoroughly. He groaned in answer, thrusts slowing until she managed to concentrate again.
“Do that again,” she demanded and latched onto him, crashing their mouths together. He rotated his wrist and hand, once again rubbing small circles over the bundle of nerves. She fought to push into the touch even as the heat and pleasure grew until it crashed over her.
“Fili!” She screamed and his thrusts turned erratic but no less forceful.
“Mahal, Sigrid,” he gasped and a deep groan reverberated through his chest as he continued to thrust in short, hard movements before sagging against her. He groaned again and rolled to the side.
She giggled and would have slapped a hand over her mouth at the slight hysteria in the sound if she could bring herself to stop trying to curl up against him, despite the mess she could feel covering her inner legs and the bed beneath her. That particular mess would have to stay, she knew, no matter how much she wanted to go make use of the fantastically wonderful bath with her husband.
“What’s funny?” Fili asked sounding exhausted.
“I have no idea,” she admitted. “It just felt good.”
His answering smile was pleased and a bit dopey in his exhaustion. He pulled her closer, letting her pillow her head on his arm while the other wrapped around her waist. She tucked into his side, rubbing her nose against his neck beneath his chin, enjoying the scrape of his beard across her skin. She slid her fingers up his chest, still wanting to explore his body even as fatigue dragged at her.
The ache in her abdomen bothered her and she shifted, cautiously draping one leg over his. He didn’t seem to mind, instead pushing closer to her in response to the new position. The pain became more bearable.
“So tired,” she yawned, snuggling closer still.
“We should clean up,” Fili said and his arms twitched as he tried to move.
“In the morning. We have to show proof, remember?” she reminded him. She tried not to think about the mess that would be smeared across their legs and the sheets by morning.
He mumbled something and reached down to cover them with the blankets at their feet. Once they were tucked beneath the bedding, he reached over and turned down the lamp, leaving the room lit by nothing more than the remaining glow of the dying fire in the grate.
Sigrid stayed where she was, unwilling to shift away from Fili. Despite her exhaustion, she worried. Yes, he still held her. Yes, he’d seemed to enjoy himself. But had he really? She had. Immensely. She wanted him to have felt the same. She needed to know even as an embarrassed flush worked its way up her neck at the thought of voicing her concerns.
“Was that all right?” she asked and despaired at the timidity of her own voice.
He pulled her closer. “You are absolutely wonderful,” he said and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I can’t imagine that having been any better.”
Relief flooded through her and she tipped her head back hopefully. He lifted his head and pressed his lips to hers in a languid, tired, content kiss, his fingers pressing into her low back, drawing her closer to him. They pulled away from each other and Sigrid tucked back into her spot beneath his chin against his shoulder before drifting off to sleep.