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Silly, Silly Dwarf

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You chuckled in Fili’s arms as he carried you to the door of your chambers. “Fili, my dear, you don’t have to do this. We’ve lived together in these chambers now for-”

“Amrâlimê, it’s tradition,” he said, with mock offense.

You giggled, secretly happy about being carried across the threshold. You kissed his cheek. He gently kicked the door open, stepped in, and then closed it. You gasped at what was inside.

At least one hundred candles shimmered and glowed in the main room of your chambers. The low light waved against the walls and threw a fresh scent into the room. “Who’s done this?” you asked, knowing Fili was by your side every moment of the day.

“It was actually Kili’s idea. I’m amazed he didn’t burn the whole mountain down.”

You smacked his shoulder gently. “You don’t give your little brother enough credit.” Your smile dimmed, but your emotions didn’t. “Even our chambers feel different tonight.”

“In a good way?” Fili asked.

“In a wonderful way,” you said, stepping back to him and kissing him. When you drew away, he saw mischief dancing in your eyes. “You know, there is another tradition for this night,” you said. You ripped open his robes and laughed loudly, almost breaking off the secured buttons.

He growled at you, throwing his layers to the ground until he was left only in his under tunic. You expected him to rush to you, rip the laces apart from your gown and throw you on the bed. You both had been waiting for this night for a long time.

Instead, he cupped your cheeks, kissed you gently and spun you around, leading you to the mirror in the corner of the room. He placed you in front of it and stood behind you, admiring you. You watched his soft eyes go up and down your body and felt his fingers run over the ever special bridal braid he had put in your hair. “I almost don’t want to take this out.”

Your chest tensed. “Mahal, did I marry a romantic,” you said with a roll of your eyes. But when you met his face again in the mirror, he saw tears gathering in your eyes.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he kissed your bare shoulder. “Why don’t we leave it for tonight?”

You nodded, resting your hands over his. His lips made his way from your neck back to your shoulder and you leaned your head back against him. His lips were hot against your icy cold, impatient skin. His hands left you only to discard his tunic and they returned to the laces on the back of your gown. He took his time undoing them, kissing your skin and running his fingers through your hair.

When the soft white lace started to slip from your chest you turned away from the mirror. You had no desire to see yourself, but every desire to see your husband. His eyes darkened as the gown fell to the floor, his gaze swept over you quickly, then again with slow heat as if he didn’t know where to look first. You breathed out a laugh, but he didn’t return it. Instead, it was clear in his face that his desire for you had tripled.

He picked you up and laid you on the bed. Then he disappeared. A whimper left you, one of impatience and longing. At the sound of his chuckle, you sat up on the edge of the bed and watched him as he lifted your wedding gown from the floor and hung it on the tall chair across the room. He laid out the train in a perfect line as if he wanted to perfectly preserve your shape in it.

He returned to you and set his hands on your shoulders to lay you down again. You refused, reaching for his trousers and looked into his eyes as you undid the fastenings. His brow furrowed and his breathing grew heavy as he watched you. When they hit the floor, he kicked them away and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

You had trouble believing that you could arouse him this much. You took him into your hand and rubbed your thumb over the tip before pleasuring him in a way you hoped was right. From his groan, you guessed you were correct. You pulled his lips down to yours and kissed him as you stroked him. Apparently it was too much.

He pushed you down to bed with a growl and pinned your hands beside your head. His fingers laced in yours as he hovered above you, silencing you with his passionate kiss. His tongue pushed past yours, sending more heat into your stomach. You whined, drawing away.

“Fili, I want to,” you said.

“Another time, men lananubukhs. There are many things that I’ve dreamed of doing with you, but most of them will have to wait until next time.” He chuckled as he cheeks grew red.

You turned your head, feeling your own blush rise. Looking at his chest, you pushed the blond curls that covered a scar set into the skin opposite his heart. It was oddly shaped, as if from a weapon forged incorrectly. “This one was Kili’s doing?”

He hummed, shivering under your touch. You laughed, knowing the story well.

You moved on to the deep set scar on his torso, running your fingertip over it. “And this one is because of me,” you said.

“It wasn’t all your fault.” His grin let you know he thought otherwise.

“Oh, yes it was. If I had been paying more attention, I would have seen that arrow coming and you wouldn’t have pushed me out of the way. You wouldn’t have been hit yourself.” Your fingers traced it as you spoke.

“I wasn’t about to let anything happen to you. I loved you even then.”

He kissed you deeply, then traveled down your body until he landed on one of your own scars over your hip. “This healed well,” he said. He kissed the line in your skin, then ran over it with his rough fingertips. “I haven’t seen it since it happened. I try not to think about it since then either.”

You thought back to that day. All hope was lost, you were sure you were going to die. It was a miracle you didn’t. “I think of that day very often,” you said, grinning.

“You’re not serious. Why on earth would you?”

You twisted his courting braid around your finger. “That was the day you first told me you loved me.”

His eyes blew wide. “I didn’t realize you heard that. Oin said you were unconscious.”

You giggled, brushing your fingers against his scruffy cheek. “Well, don’t get all flushed. It’s no secret now.”

He climbed back up to you. “No, it’s not.” He kissed you again. This time, you felt his urgency, his need. You returned it with the same emotions. His rough hands tenderly cupped and squeezed at your breasts as his lips traveled down to your neck. You reached for him, pulling his torso closer to yours and wrapping your legs around his back.

“Fili, please. I want you.”

His heavy breath fanned over your face as he glued his forehead to yours, lining himself up with your entrance. You tightened your legs around him and brought your hips up to his, making him groan. The sound sent another pool splashing down between your legs.

He pushed into you slowly. Every inch of him stretched you more until he was completely sheathed inside you. Now he was hardly breathing. “Are you all right?”

“More than all right, amrâlimê,” you purred. You rocked your hips, urging him to move.

He breathed out a chuckle into the skin of your neck and retreated, only to slowly drive into you again. It didn’t take long for the two of you to find a rhythm. You met his every thrust and reveled in his breathy groans and grunts. You didn’t think you would ever get used to having him this way.

He soon pushed you to your edge. His thrusts were deep and hard, making you whimper every time he hit home. You had pleasured yourself before, but nothing could ever compare to the way Fili made you feel. You were comfortable, confident, sexy, alive, and oh, so loved. The thoughts helped throw you over the edge and you held onto his shoulders with a harsh grip as he helped you ride out your high.

Shortly after, his thrusts grew erratic. He drove as far into you as he possibly could, making you cry out his name. His face was buried into your neck and you were overwhelmed by his moans and the delicious feeling of him spilling into you. This made you his more than any wedding vow could.

He laid next to you and pulled you close, breathing heavily into your hair. You looked up to him and laughed when you saw his expression. He was smiling like an idiot.

“Oh, my silly, silly dwarf,” you said as you often did.

“Now your silly, silly husband, amrâlimê.”

You grinned. “I could get used to that.”