Sigrid
As they were walking back to their halls, Sigrid caught several stares and glances in their direction. Her flushed cheeks and the way she clutched Fíli's arm were probably the cause. As well as the fact that they must cut a strange picture, with her almost a full head taller than him. It was the first day they were seen out of their halls together since the wedding. Of course, they would attract curiosity. But she did not mind. He had kissed her. Under the light of the moon, he had put his lips on hers and her heart had melted instantly. She had been waiting all day long, for what she did not know, until that very moment when, wrapped in his embrace, she had felt her own body awaken with desire. She was sure, now. She wanted him as much as he seemed to want her.
He had kissed her. She still could not quite believe it, but the taste of him was still in her mouth, warm and a little smoky. She had always wondered what was so enjoyable about it when she saw couples kiss. She used to turn away in distaste, failing to see what was so special about it. Now she knew. This light-headed sensation, as if she was falling down. The flutters in her stomach. Her heart beating so fast she was almost breathless. The world disappearing around her, except for him, his body, his lips her only link to reality. It was like drowning, and she was helpless to resist. She wanted to drown with him, melt in his arms until she was just a puddle of nameless sensations.
It was all new to her, from the tingling feeling of his beard against her skin to the distinct scent of his hair, leather and smoke mingled together, and something else, faintly metallic. She could not get enough. Her body was responding in ways she had never felt before. She had heard herself say such words as she never thought would come out of her mouth. And she meant them. With all her heart. All her soul. As she had not meant her vows at the wedding. Dimly, she realized this was it. True marriage.
She remembered how she had resisted, how she had cried in the endless torments of the night when Tilda slept and she could at last let go. How cruel she had thought her father was. How revulsed she had been at the idea of doing exactly what she now craved within the very core of her body. She gripped Fíli's arm harder now, suddenly regretting they had not done it outside. Anxiety was creeping in the back of her brain now. What if he did not like her after all? What if he changed his mind?
She looked down at him as they reached their halls, worried that the magic was lost for waiting too long. But as soon as the door was closed, he caught her in his arms, his mouth leaving a trail of burning kisses on her neck. She gasped, body tightening, hands twitching on the leather of his coat. He hissed in frustration as he tried to reach her mouth, raising himself on the tip of his toes. She bent to give him access and she was swept off once again. Nothing else existed but his lips giving her life, setting her body and mind afire.
He released her after what seemed like an eternity, his breath hard and fast. Taking her hand, he led her upstairs to the bedroom, almost making her stumble on the steps in his haste. He swiftly got rid of his heavy cloak and belt, which fell on the floor with a loud clatter. He pulled off his overtunic, ruffling his hair in the process.
Sigrid felt her insides rip apart as she watched him undress. Her husband. Her handsome golden lion. Was there ever a time when the sight of him did not move her to tears? Her lips suddenly felt dry and she moistened them, shuddering with anticipation. She started to undo the first buttons of her bodice when he stopped her, pushing her hands away.
"Let me help you with that" he said, his voice suddenly raspy.
There was no need, it was not like her wedding dress. But she let him have his way, not even aware that she held her breath until all her clothes lay around her on the floor. She stepped out of them, standing in only her shift, the top of which was held by a single knot. He untied it, and the hem fell, revealing her shoulders. She caught it on her breasts, instinctively. Afraid he would not like what he saw.
He paid no mind, turning her to unpin her hair. She felt like a rag doll in his hands, suddenly aware of how large they were. How every touch of them elicited tiny shivers that would not stop. Her hair fell in long ripples on her shoulders and back and he clung to her, arms around her waist, face buried in her locks. She could feel his heart racing in his chest, echoing the beatings of her own heart.
They stayed like that for a long time, entwined, until his hands moved to hers, parting them from her bosom. He cupped her breasts over the light fabric of her shift, her nipples suddenly hardening against his coarse palms. She arched her back with a strangled moan.
"Fíli-"
His mouth searched for her skin amidst her hair, nipping at her, as his hands caressed her all the way down to her hips.
"I want you so much" he growled, pressing his crotch against her.
Her body shivered at his words.
"I want you too" she murmured so low she was not sure he could hear.
She turned to face him, shedding her shift in the process, and took hold of his undertunic. She pulled it quickly over his head but gasped as it revealed his still healing wound. She had quite forgotten about it, and how it must still hurt him.
"Are you sure-?" she asked, hesitant.
"Why?" he asked, brow crinkling. "Are you not?"
She traced the scabs with a light finger, afraid of giving him pain. "Maybe it's a bit early-"
He shrugged. "I don't feel a thing."
It was probably not a boast. Dwarves healed faster and were said to be almost immune to pain.
"Come" he continued, leading her to the bed where he sat down, his eyes feasting on her naked flesh.
"You're so beautiful" he said, pulling at her until she sat on top of him.
Their chests collided as he kissed her frantically, his hands rubbing her back. She was surprised but delighted to find that his chest hair was not coarse as she had thought. It felt soft against her breasts, tingling her slightly as his beard tickled her face. A wild fire blazed in her belly and she moaned in his mouth, fingers clutching at his strong shoulders. She felt very small in his arms. Very small and very vulnerable.
He released her, panting hard.
"Sigrid" he said, clear eyes staring at her. "Will you have me, body and soul?"
She took a deep breath, answering from the depths of her heart. "Yes, my love. I will."
"My love" he whispered back at her, his voice raw with desire.
Their vows were exchanged once more, there was nothing else to say. He pushed her on the bed, kicking off his boots and getting rid of his breeches. Before she knew it, he had opened her legs and was inside her.
She winced as pain suddenly flashed. Remembering faintly what Dís had said about the wedding night, she tried to relax as he thrust deeper. She whimpered, his weight making it hard for her to breathe. Was it supposed to be that way? Surely he could rest his weight somewhere else than on her chest.
"Fíli-" she managed to say.
"What?" he asked, plunging harder in her.
"You're crushing me."
"Sorry" he said, shifting his weight on his arms, never stopping his motions.
She sighed, finally able to release her breath. The pain of the first thrust was gone. She felt a low buzz instead and her hands moved to his hips as he slid back and forth, again and again, each time harder, each time deeper. She gasped, clutching at him, feeling something melt inside of her. She started moving her hips, following his pace.
"Sigrid" she heard him groan. "Yes. Like that."
His body suddenly tightened and he came inside of her. It was over. He stayed panting above her then rolled aside on the bed, a satisfied smile painted on his face.
It had all happened so fast. She did not know if it was normal but he certainly seemed content. She closed her legs and he turned to look at her, still smiling. He proceeded to kiss every part of her he could reach, the beads from his moustache cold against her skin.
"It was so good" he finally said, beaming at her. "Was it good also for you?"
He seemed to be genuinely concerned he had performed well. And in truth, she had enjoyed it, much more than she would have thought.
"Yes" she replied, kissing him back.
Her body was still throbbing with unresolved desire. Was it always that fast? she wondered. He probably had no more idea than she.
He looked at her, brows furrowed.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
She nodded, placing a swift kiss on his lips.
He sighed, reassured. "I'm thirsty, though. I need to drink something. Do you want anything?"
She shook her head, staring at the bed canopy as he got up.
While Fíli was gone, Sigrid went out of bed to pick up her shift and put it back on, shivering. Then she folded all of her husband's clothes and neatly settled them on the chair. As she gathered his overtunic, she brought it to her face and took a deep whiff of it. She could never get enough of his musky scent.
"Back in your shift so soon?"
She turned to answer.
"I was-" she started, but the sight of him stark naked in front of her took all speech from her.
She was familiar with his chest, having seen it countless times as she treated his wound. His large shoulders and strong arms, the left one covered with strange and intricate tattoos that continued on his shoulder blade. His broad chest and belly chiseled by years of hard labour and the handling of weapons. But the rest of him left her breathless. His thighs were incredibly muscular, if a bit short. Anybody else would have looked awkward. He, on the other hand, moved with a cat-like grace, all his muscles rippling in harmony.
"Are you alright?" he asked, brows knitting.
Suddenly aware she was gawking, Sigrid tried to look away, in vain. She wanted to tell him how handsome and how utterly desirable she found him. But words escaped her.
"No" she said, forcing herself to take a deep breath. "I don't think I am."
He raised one eyebrow.
This was the stupidest thing she had ever said but she could not help herself. Her eyes trailed on his member and a sudden urge to have it buried in her clouded all her judgement. Cheeks burning, she untied her shift and let it fall at her feet. Hopefully, he would take the hint.
In an instant, he was upon her, grinding against her, face deep in her chest, hands hard and demanding. She gave a little squeal as he gripped her butt and lifted her. She took hold of his shoulders for balance and wrapped her legs around him, feeling him harden in between her thighs. His mouth suckling at her breasts sent uncontrollable shivers through her spine and she moaned, nails digging in his flesh.
He carried her to the bed and she fell on the sheets. He stroked the inside of her thighs with urgency, opening them further. A single slow thrust of his hips and he entered her, until he could go no further.
"Fíli" she sighed, back arching, out of control.
He drew back, equally slowly.
Her insides on fire, Sigrid moaned louder, even more aroused than before. He was taking his time, his thrusts each time more precise, hands running on her body, brushing her nipples, cupping her breasts. How could it be so good? How did he know what to do to drive her insane? It was like a secret alchemy. A magic that only he possessed.
She started moving in rhythm with him, raising her hips to meet him, so eager she was to feel him deeper inside of her. She never wanted it to stop. She wanted it to go on endlessly. It was like torture, but so sweet she could have died right here, right now, in his strong arms.
Suddenly, he quickened the pace and she cried out as pleasure consumed her body. She clutched at the sheets, trying to keep up with him. One of his hands moved to her hip, maintaining her in position. The other grabbed her own hand and they twined fingers. He brought it over her head as she arched her back even further, writhing in ecstasy.
She felt her walls close on him as she shook with her release, crying out his name. He followed soon after, blessing her with his semen, collapsing on top of her with a loud sigh.
This time, she did not mind his weight. She wrapped her arms around him as he panted with exertion, trying to catch his breath, damp with sweat. His heart was pounding against her chest. She waited for its beats to return to normal, stroking his hair as softly as she could.
After a little while, he rolled over, dragging her on top of him and kissing her gently.
"Well" he said, still a bit out of breath. "That was much better."
Sigrid smiled, biting her lips. Release had been dazzling, to say the least. It was as if all her life had led her to that brightest of moments. But the aftermath was not bad. Not bad at all. To think that just a little while ago, she had been terrified to sleep with him in this very bed. Now she could not imagine sleeping anywhere else.
She slid aside him, nestling her head on his shoulder, breathing him in. He snaked an arm around her waist to keep her close, nose rubbing the top of her head. Just before she drifted in the world of dreams, she heard him whisper in her hear: "Love of my life."
