Evangeline felt like so much had been leading up to this moment, and now that it was finally here, after all this time… She felt the fear creeping across her skin and making her jump at every little sound. Nervousness hijacked her heartbeat, driving it up into her throat so that each beat throbbed like a drum. She had been longing for this night for longer than she was willing to admit, but there were far too many restless thoughts running through her mind as she tugged at the sleeves of her nightgown and shivered, the cool air of the room mingling with the heat radiating off her anxious form. What if she did not please him? If he found her lacking, or not as he had imagined? What if…

Her own deeper worries were all too natural to be notable. She tried to fight the lump in her throat and take a deep breath despite its obstruction – this was just one more adventure. One more experience she would never have until she did.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and the hobbit nearly jumped she was so startled by the unimposing sound. Evie nodded bravely, taking a beat before realizing that whoever (she knew who it must be) was on the other side of the door could not see her.

"Come- come in."

She offered, cursing the emotions straining her voice. Thorin entered the bedroom, their bedroom, and she was almost relieved to recognize a similar tension lining his sharp features.

"My wife."

He greeted her with a smile, his adoring sapphire eyes lighting up as they met her gentle grey ones.

"My husband."

She returned, and there was great tenderness in the sound. It felt like honey on her tongue – a sweetness she had yearned to taste for many years.

"I have dreamed of calling you my wife for so long…"

He explained, stepping forward and taking one of her small, unconsciously trembling hands in his.

"And yet I never permitted myself to believe such a thing could ever come to be. Not in my wildest imaginings…"

He kissed the top of her hand, and as his perfect lips curved around her knuckles, Evangeline was not sure which had become stronger – her chaste panic, or her kindled desire for him. He was wearing a dark green tunic and black pants; they had both changed after the festivities had died down. Evie wore only her nightgown, a long white affair which was barely thick enough to be decent without the accompanying robe. She felt nearly naked already, but tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation as she strained to come to the full realization that this night had arrived at last and that they were finally married. She was his and he was hers, forever. The very idea was unfathomable.

She smiled up at him, her stormy eyes tracing the lines of his face with wanton abandon. She could look at him as much as she wanted to, now, and no one could talk. She could stare at him, eyes absorbing his pale skin against the clean line of his beard, the slope of his hawk-like nose and the gorgeous lips it led to. She could kiss those lips as many times as she wanted, and it would not be called indecent. She realized suddenly that she wanted to – that she wanted to see him and touch him and experience him as no one else ever could. He was finally her husband, and she wanted every inch of him.

.

Evangeline hadn't realized she was holding her breath until he kissed her and she released it against his lips. She drew in another, ashamed to feel it catch in her throat. She had never wanted anything more in her whole life, nor had she felt more terrified of having it. Why, she could not say, but the nerves shooting through her muscles proved she was more scared of this than she had expected. What if it wasn't the way she thought it would be? What if something went wrong? What if –

He kissed her again, his lips wrapping around hers with abject tenderness. Each movement was slow and deliberate. Her hands found his face, fingers skimming across his jaw and burying themselves in his thick beard. He must have enjoyed the sensation, for his breath hitched as her searching fingers massaged his cheeks and neck. One of his large hands wound into her golden curls, fingers twisting around strands of her silky hair and tugging on them just enough to encourage her to make a small helpless noise into his mouth. Their kiss deepened; his tongue made circles on her own, and the taste of him made her knees weaken.

"Thorin…"

She whispered his name between kisses, her timorous voice in a slightly higher register than she had anticipated. He pulled away from her, his dazzling blue eyes searching her anxious grey ones for an explanation. He felt her tense against him and one look at her told him why. A smile curved onto his lips as he gazed down at his hobbit, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. Evie took a deep breath, her eyes leaving his as she tried to find the words to justify her trepidation. Instead, her fingers hooked on the top of his linen shirt, tugging at the drawstring of the dark green garment and picking at the stitches of its lining. Thorin took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips in what was becoming a customary gesture.

"Evangeline Took, are you truly refusing to speak your mind?"

He teased her, and was rewarded with a timid smile. Her lovely little brow furrowed, but at least she met his gaze again.

"Thorin, I…"

How could she explain? What could she say to make herself feel more at ease? Her body betrayed her mind, her senses… She cursed her nerves, wondering how it was that any woman had gotten herself through this startling situation. She had been calm until this evening, until she had taken off her wedding dress and put on her nightgown and come to grips with the fact that all this was real. And she wanted it to be, she wanted all of it…

"I love you."

It was all she could think to say – it was the only thing that mattered. Her hands spread out on his shoulders, feeling the taught muscles hiding beneath his linen shirt. Her mouth fell open, pink lips parting as she indulged herself in him, abandoning apprehension and trying to realize only this moment. Her greedy fingers traced the line of his clavicle through his shirt, and the dwarf shivered. He closed his eyes as her touch moved to his neck, the backs of her fingers skimming his jawline with unqualified sensuality, making the hair of his beard prickle under her languid caress. Her hand tangled into his dark brown hair, catching on a braid as she gathered a handful of his unkempt mane. His head tilted back at the temperate motion, and a smile flickered on her fair face as she brazenly kissed his adam's apple and felt him breathe in sharply in response. The hobbit broke away slowly, relishing the feeling of his heartbeat under her lips.

"I want you," she confessed, her mouth hovering over his. The dwarf savored the sweetness of her breath against his longing lips.

"I want you more than anything I've ever wanted in my entire life."

Thorin smiled, his heart pounding in his chest. He unapologetically stole a quick kiss from his bride as she fought against her body's instinct to blush.

"I am yours," he returned, his eyes burning with desire. She was looking away again, as was her custom when she got embarrassed or nervous. His careful hands turned her face back toward his, his expression a model of adulation. "Every day, until the day I die," he vowed, and that promise, the assurance of the days and years and decades they had yet to spend together, was more exhilarating than anything in her greatest imaginings.

"Which means that you, my wife…" he tried the word again, delighting in the way it danced off his tongue. The dwarf picked her up, and although the blonde jumped in surprise at first, she allowed him to sweep her up and carry her to their bed, smiling into his shoulder as her nightgown flowed behind them.

"Are mine." He suggested, claiming her lips for an unspeakable passion which made her weak in his arms. She lay back on the bed, taking a deep breath as she tried to ready herself for him, for what was to come. He kicked off his boots and joined her on the bed, trying to shake the tension from his own body even as he noticed it in hers. She closed her eyes, feeling his solid frame on top of her and drinking in the warmth of him, hungry for it even as she shivered in shy anticipation.

"We do not have to do this tonight."

Thorin interrupted, and Evie looked up at him like a deer caught staring down an arrow. Her grey eyes were wide, and the innocent surprise on her face made him smile.

"I did not say –"

"You did not have to."

He assured her, dusting one of her rosy cheeks with his lips in an amatory gesture. She was frozen beneath him, unable to understand.

"It is not such a great thing. If you would rather wait –"

"No!"

She protested, her brow wrinkling the way it always did when she was offended. Thorin chuckled, his breath husky in his throat. If she did not want him tonight, she would have to say so now, because it took considerably more willpower than he wanted to admit to keep himself from her.

Evie's eyes met his, and for the first time she noticed just how nervous he must be as well.

Thorin made his desire for her clear, but he also feared the pain their union would inevitably bring her, and her reluctance was setting him on edge. He appreciated her chastity, her hesitation, but he had no wish to continue if that was not what she wanted, if any part of her was unsure…

"Evangeline, you are my wife. I would do anything for you –"

Seeing the fervent love in his eyes, the way he paused to care for her, how he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling without her needing to say it… He was her husband. They were married. Her mind recalled the wedding earlier in the day, the celebration and that perfect moment when they pledged themselves to one another… Any fear she felt before was transfigured into love, and in that instant there was nothing she wanted more in all of Middle Earth than to see it consummated.

"Then make me yours. All of me."

She replied, firmly. The sudden seductive spark which lit up her eyes, the velvety tone of her voice… Thorin let out a tortured breath, and she grinned self-assuredly to see how easily he was affected by her. Seeing his lust kindled her own, and the tension faded from her body as he keenly explored it with his hands. They ran down the curve of her waist and the bell of her hips, tugging up her nightgown to just below her knees before moving to graze her arms. He loosened the strings of her dress, his calloused fingers massaging her breasts and making her choke on her next breath. She inhaled deeply, and he appreciated the unsteady rise of her chest under his lascivious examination. She licked her lips, biting down on her plump lower lip as his warm mouth went to her neck, trailing kisses across her untouched flesh. The sensation of his rough beard delighted her, and the combination of the prickling of her skin and the hunger of his hot, wet mouth made her moan deep in her throat. He caught the vibration under his searching tongue and smiled against the swell of her breasts, where his mouth discovered unrepentant indulgence.

His lips returned to her neck, and she was so enrapt by him she did not notice how he raised the skirt of her nightgown all the way up to her stomach. Her body was on fire, and the warmth of him so close was just kindling on the blaze. She felt the heat radiating off him and wanted his body on hers, wanted him closer, even, than they already were… She was the one who yanked at his shirt, tugging it over his head as he obligingly leaned forward. She cast it aside, her delicate mouth releasing a captivated sigh. She had not realized it before, but she had never seen him without at least a linen shirt on. His body was more perfect than she could have imagined in her wildest fantasies – it was her turn to put her hands on him, to run her fingers across his broad, muscular shoulders and wind them into his dark chest hair. She let out a needy moan and he captured it in his mouth, praising Durin for every little motion she made against him.

He felt pressure shooting up his abdomen as his body awoke for her, eager for a satisfaction he had never known. He closed his eyes, mumbling her name against her lips as if in permission. Evie could have drowned in him in that moment, in the way their bodies melted into one another, and she would have given him absolutely anything he asked for. She swallowed, her fingertips making rapacious paths along his torso until they hooked on the top of his pants. The dwarf made a yearning noise in the back of his throat, and Evie sighed licentiously against his cheek as she fumbled with the laces. Every time her fingers slipped, every clumsy gesture of her hands as they brushed against him, made Thorin weak in her arms. This was new for him as well, and he knew it would not take much from her to satisfy him, given the excruciating stiffness growing between his legs. He was finally released, and it took effort for him to wrench off his pants and delay even one more moment in joining them. Evie gasped as she felt him, and Thorin pulled off her nightgown entirely before settling down on top of her once more, hunger burning in his eyes like an inferno. Her hands ran up his arms, pulling him down to her for a fervent kiss and taking a deep, steadying breath as he positioned himself above her.

Evie breathed out, preparing for him. She gasped mid-exhalation as she felt him push inside her; she was being undone like the bud of a flower in the first days of spring, forced open by the passage of time yet willing it to be so because she knew the value of a blossom. The hobbit bit her lip, her eyes snapping closed as she felt the sudden discomfort of his invasion, small spirals of pain shooting up through her abdomen. She felt him grunt into her shoulder, his jaw tight and his breath warm as he struggled against her. The rolling pleasure was so excessive, so unendurably potent, it took a moment before he could bear to look up at her and catch the distress harrowing her lovely, round features.

With extreme force of will, he pulled out of her, shivering and trying to master his body. Thorin's eyes exposed his concern as one of his hands cupped her face and drew it to his.

"We can stop, we don't have to –"

"No, please…"

She begged him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes desperate. This was right, this was what she wanted… And something assured her there was the promise of perfection just on the other side of this. If they could only reach it… She kissed him, drawing the dwarf closer to her as their lips coveted each other. Thorin continued to kiss her as he slowly pressed himself back between her legs, filling her up inch by inch. She whimpered into his beard as she turned her face, eyes smarting from the overstimulation. There was something more than just pain tickling her senses, and it grew with every careful thrust. Her fingers dug into the dwarf's shoulders, her body rocking against his as he began a steady, measured rhythm against her.

Their noses brushed as Thorin leaned over her on the bed, trying to move as slowly and cautiously as possible, the muscles of his arms and torso straining with the effort. The force of him inside her was staggering and sensational; she had never been so conflicted before, so confused by her own body – half of her thought she might die if he didn't stop, and the other half thought she might die if he did. Even so, she embraced the incomprehensible stupor of her incitement, of her body achieving the knowledge of her husband's touch.

"Are you alright?"

He asked, his voice incredibly deep. He shuddered, so close to the edge it was hard to speak. The blonde nodded, her breath catching in her throat as she leaned forward, capturing his lips again. Evie was gratified by the tortured moan he released into her mouth, the muscles of his abdomen seizing against her as he maintained the slowest, most gentle movements he could manage. Her arm hooked around his shoulder, falling down to his bicep as he shifted against her, straining to control his body. He hated knowing he was causing her pain, but she intently urged him on and he could not deny that the pure ecstasy of her, tight and tremulous around him, was nearly too much to bear.

She whimpered, and Thorin was stirred to see that it was from pleasure rather than pain. Her gorgeous mouth had fallen open, wet lips spread as she bucked her hips into him, making them both cry out as the mutual sensation hit them, their shared warmth growing more and more potent. This was it, this was what she had hoped for – Evie had not known what to expect, but the tingling sensation spreading through her thighs was something like what she had dreamed of when she thought of this moment. The pain was still there, but not as sharp as before. Her careless cries became sighs as Thorin quickened his pace, sensing the change in her as her body learned to admit him.

His name fell from her kiss swollen lips in two broken syllables, and her hands groped for him, sliding down his sweaty, working torso as she searched for something to cling to, anything to stabilize her quivering body. His next thrust was particularly forceful, and she yelped in mingled satisfaction and alarm as she felt him release inside her. She was almost grateful for the warmth which spread within her; the sudden relief from the agonizing tension of their bodies colliding with one another. She rode the unsteady wave of his fulfillment and sighed, her muscles relaxing as she felt his strength melt into her. His beard made the skin of her neck tingle as the king kissed the sensitive flesh there, breathing deeply as he fought to keep himself propped up above her now that he was spent. She savored the sensation of his hard, lean body trembling against hers and the unequivocal expressions of gratitude he mumbled into the bend of her neck.

Thorin collapsed into the bed next to his wife, letting out a throaty groan of contentment. The corner of Evie's lips tugged up into a smile, and she gingerly turned to fit into his arms, already feeling the effects of him imprinted onto her. His fingers wandered to her chin, lifting it up so he could kiss her one more time.

"I love you."

He reaffirmed, his lips pledging the verity of the claim with indicative tenderness. She made a small noise of satisfaction and echoed him softly, nestling into his arms and closing her eyes. She could feel his heavy breathing beneath her, fatigue claiming them both as the hobbit prepared for what was surely a well-deserved rest. She could not believe that only a day ago she had been Evangeline Took of the Shire, and now… Now she was Evangeline, wife of Thorin, King at Ered Luin. She had just experienced what it was to know her husband as no one else ever would, and although she was left exhausted and trembling in his arms, she felt content to know as his fingers laced with hers that this was only the start.