When night fell, the company slipped through Laketown on silent foot. There where soldiers walking about in the evening, and they seemed to be enforcing a curfew. Firiel wondered what sort of leader they had here. They watched from behind a fishing boat as two more soldiers walked by.
"So," she whispered, "what's the plan?"
"We'll break into the armoury," Thorin whispered back, loud enough for the others to hear, "As soon as we have the weapons, we'll make straight for the mountain…Go, go, go!"
They took off through the darkness as the soldiers walked passed them. Firiel had no idea how Thorin even knew where this place was, but she had decided not to ask. Some of the dwarves piled on top of one another like a great stairwell, and Nori took off up their backs towards the open window. Once Nori was up, Thorin ordered Bilbo on behind him. Firiel was next, and scaled her companions with ease, laughing at herself a bit. Nori pulled her in through the window, and she looked back out, amazed she had even done that. She, Nori, Kili, Thorin, Bofur, and Bilbo took off towards the walls, and began to pull off axes and swords. Kili was having trouble lifting, and Firiel could see her was heavily favouring his uninjured leg. Even then, he panted and gasped with the weight of two axes, which she had come to learn was nothing for him at all.
"You alright?" Thorin asked his nephew quietly.
"Yeah, I can manage," Kili whispered back.
"Pass these down to Fili," Thorin said, placing a sword on top of Kili's pile.
Kili made it most of the way towards the window, but what happened next, Firiel saw coming. Kili's injured leg buckled, and he fell, all the weapons he had been carrying clattering down a staircase. Kili fell down part of the flight of stairs, and Firiel dropped what she was carrying to dive after him. She managed to grab Kili's arm before he impaled himself on a sword. He looked at her with gratitude in his eyes, but sounds of yelling soon turned that look to one of panic. They had alerted the guards.
Before either of them could move, two soldiers were upon them, a dagger at each of their throats. Firiel looked at the soldier who had her, and then back to Kili. He looked like all the colour was gone from his cheeks. They would never reach the Lonely Mountain now.
They were gathered together outside the armoury like a herd of cows and poked and prodded through the town. Firiel looked and saw that Fili was unharmed and smiled for a moment before she was pushed off. As they were marched through Laketown, people came from their homes with lit torches to watch the procession. The crowd followed them to what seemed to be the largest building in town. Firiel scowled when a ratty-looking little man poked his head out the double doors. Was that the Master of Laketown?
They were stopped before the grand staircase, and the double doors were flung open. A fat, balding man stomped through, pulling a housecoat over his shoulders.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
The ratty man stood just behind him, and Firiel knew then that this windbag was the master. The captain of the guard, he seemed to be, bowed his head before speaking.
"We caught them stealing weapons, Sire," he said.
"Ah, enemies of the state, eh?" the master spoke.
"I said they're a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, Sire."
The ratty man spoke, and Firiel recognized him immediately as the man who had almost caught them at the gate. He was as ugly as his voice suggested. His name was Alfred, or something to that effect. Dwalin was clearly not a fan of all this.
"Hold your tongue," the dwarf spat, wandering forwards, "You do not know to whom you speak! This is no common criminal!"
At that, the master regarded them curiously. Dwalin extended his arm towards Thorin, who began to step forwards.
"This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!" Dwalin cried.
"We are the dwarves of Erebor," Thorin announced, "We have come to reclaim our homeland."
At that, gasps and whispers took hold of the crowd. These people knew very well who Thorin was. The master looked shocked at Thorin's presence. Thorin stepped up to the bottom of the stairs, and looked out around him. Fili and Firiel looked at one another, and Firiel saw that Fili had an idea what Thorin and Dwalin were up to.
"I remember this town in the great days of old," Thorin said to the people, "Fleets of boats lay at harbour, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the centre of all trade in the north!"
The people nodded, chorusing shouts of agreement, and Firiel knew instantly where this was going. Thorin was giving them a battle speech. He was trying to win their help.
"I will see those days return," Thorin continued, "I would relight the great forges of the dwarves, so that wealth and riches flow in once more, from the halls of Erebor!"
The crowd was shouting now, alight with a fire that Thorin was so good at inspiring, but Firiel felt sick. Greed. That's what Thorin was winning their support with. These people looked desperate and starving, and the dwarves clearly knew it. Thorin turned back to address the master, but he was interrupted.
"Death!" a voice rang out over the crowd.
Firiel looked and saw it was Bard making his way forwards through the crowd. He pushed his way into the centre of the circle.
"That is what you will bring upon us," the bargeman glared down at Thorin, "Dragon fire, and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."
The reality of what it was they were about to do hit Firiel like a ton of bricks. They were going into a mountain to slay a fire-breathing dragon, but it had never occurred to her what might happen if the sleeping beast awoke. What if they didn't defeat it? What would happen to these people?
"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this," Thorin told the crowd, "If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain."
At that, the earlier joy of the crowd returned, and Firiel felt a smile come to her face at that. These people really did need the gold. The look of their town alone told her that. Much less gazing upon their thin and starving faces. But, if they would risk dragon fire, destruction, and death to see their days of prosperity returned, that worried her a bit.
"You will have enough gold to rebuild Eskaros ten times over!" Thorin shouted.
The crowd cheered, but Bard would not be so easily swayed.
"All of you, listen to me!" the bargeman cried, turning out to face them, "You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?"
"No!" someone shouted, and the crowd began to chatter in panic and ill-contentment.
How easily swayed these people are, Firiel noted.
"And for what purpose?" Bard continued, "The blind ambition of a mountain king! So driven by greed, he cannot see beyond his own desire!"
Thorin and Bard stared one another down hatefully.
"Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame," the master called out over the crowd, shaking his finger at Bard, "Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast, hm?!"
The crowd all shouted out in agreement, and Firiel understood Bard's reasoning. His family had fallen from lords to poverty because of this dragon. Because of Erebor, he could barely feed his children.
"It's true, Sire," Alfred agreed, "We all know the story! Arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark."
Bard looked as though he might cry, but he advanced on Thorin, remaining firm for a crowd that cried out against him.
"You have no right," he told Thorin, "No right to enter that mountain."
At that, Thorin leaned towards him.
"I have the only right," was the dwarf's reply.
He and Bard glared at one another a moment more before Thorin turned to address the master.
"I speak to the Master of the Men of the Lake," he said, climbing up the stairs, "Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?"
Firiel had to admit that Thorin was a good speaker, but that didn't make this whole affair sit any better with her. A glimmer of excitement crossed the plump man's face, and Firiel knew that Thorin had won him over with the mere mention of wealth. It was disgusting.
"What say you?" Thorin asked him.
"I say unto you," the master paused for effect, "Welcome!"
The crowd cheered, and the guards immediately lowered their swords from the company.
"Welcome thrice," the master cried, "Welcome, King Under the Mountain!"
The crowd hooted, hollered, and cheered as Thorin turned back to gaze out at them. Bard's shoulders nearly slumped in defeat. The company all grinned at one another, laughing and patting each other on the backs. Fili looked down at Firiel, and his smile faltered when he saw that she wasn't even wearing one. She just stared up at Thorin, Bard, and the master, a dark, contemplative look on her features. As Firiel watched the three, she knew something was wrong with all of this.
Something was terribly wrong indeed.
The master's men led the company to the local inn, and set them all up in rooms for the next two evenings. It was decided they would set out on Durin's Day, in order for them to be properly equipped. Each of them, aside from Fili and Kili, had their own room, and Thorin gave the master a list of supplies they would need that the greedy man was happy to fill.
The company was given food and drink aplenty the day before their journey, but Fili was quick to notice that Firiel was not among them. At first, he had thought she was simply sleeping in and left it be, but, as the day wore on and the sun set, he realized that was not the case at all. She hadn't left her room.
After dinner, when the others were drinking and celebrating their near success, Fili asked the innkeeper which room was hers. He started off to check on her, and found her room with great ease. It was right next to his. He knocked on her door gently, and was relieved when she replied.
"Come in," her voice called from within.
He opened the door and expected to see her coming towards him, but he was surprised by what he found. Firiel was simply standing at the window, staring out into the night sky. Her notebook was laid out on the bedside table next to a large jar candle, and her other belongings were spread out as well, still drying from their many watery treks. She had been given a nightgown of white silk, and had obviously just bathed, for her hair was wet. He hadn't even seen her face, and the sight of her took his breath away.
Firiel barely even noticed Fili's presence, or hear him gently close the door. She looked out towards Erebor, which she had a perfect view of, and found a sick, dark feeling creeping up inside of her. There was something very wrong with this whole place. She stood there, pondering what on earth it was that made her feel this way, and wished that Gandalf were here to tell her. He knew what it was, and now Firiel wished desperately to know why this darkness came upon her in this way.
"What's wrong?"
Firiel straightened up to attention and saw Fili was beside her, looking at her warmly yet quizzically. She tried to smile at him, but found that she could not, and turned to look out towards the mountain once again. He decided to look out with her, and saw the stars sparkling in the autumn night.
"I don't like this," she whispered suddenly, "Something is very wrong with this whole thing."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Firiel looked up at him, amazed. Was she the only one who could feel the darkness in the air?
"…You don't feel it?"
Fili smiled at her. He looked out to the mountain again, and wondered what on earth she was talking about.
"Is this what you felt in the wood?" he asked.
He looked back at her and saw Firiel frowning.
"I don't know," she admitted, "But it sure does feel like it. You really can't feel it?"
She looked so sweet in the starlight, with the bedside candlelight flickering off her hair. This was the first time they had truly been alone since the start of their journey. He took her hand and brought it to his chest. She turned to looked at him, confused by the action. He placed his other hand along her jaw, stroking her cheek.
"I feel this," he told her, placing her hand over his heart, "I feel us. You and me. That's the only thing I ever need to feel."
Firiel inhaled and exhaled through her nose, smiling at him. His heartbeat was strong, steady, yet it quickened the longer she felt it. He leaned in and placed a kiss to her lips. Firiel felt her heart flutter in delight, and his did as well.
When he pulled back, she had almost forgotten the dread hanging in the air above them. She placed her hand on his cheek, and studied his handsome face for a moment, running her thumb along his bottom lip. She was mesmerized by her kind and gentle prince. His lips turned upwards under her thumb, and he kissed it gently. Firiel felt a fire beginning to fan up in her belly, and she knew immediately why. They were alone, in the dark calm of night.
And she wanted him. Badly.
At that realization, she stepped into him, pressing her body up close to him. Fili was surprised by her sudden advance, but one look into her eye and he knew. And he wanted her too. He felt himself grow hard, the need he had felt in the Woodland Realm swelling up inside of him.
"Thank you for keeping me warm in canals, by the way," she said, her eyes casting their way down to his lips, "And protecting me from the orcs. And the elves."
"You're welcome," he smiled.
He kissed her then, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in close. He felt her hands wind up into his hair as he pulled her flush against him. Firiel felt that he was already hard, and her womanhood pulsed, nearly dripping with excitement. No sooner had they begun to kiss did the biting and sucking begin, rabid need boiling up between them.
Now that they were alone, Firiel did not have to fight to be silent. She moaned and gasped headily, and Fili found her vocalizing intoxicating. Every sound she made fanned the fire in his loins. He ran his hands down from her waist to her round bottom, and squeezed as he pulled her hips into his roughly. Firiel gasped and arched her back, offering him her throat. He devoured it hungrily, kissing, biting, and sucking the sensitive skin. Firiel was quickly becoming lost in the pleasure that was shooting through her body, consuming her very soul and turning her into a panting, moaning mess. She brought her hands to his tunic, tugging at it roughly, her hands not quite working right in the way they clenched at every suckle her lover gave to the flesh of her neck. Fili soon felt her cool hands against his skin though and pulled back from her, quickly ridding himself of his tunic. He rid himself of his boots as well, kicking them into some far off corner.
He moved to grab her again, but Firiel had other plans. She ran her hands between them, dragging her nails through his chest hair and bringing her hands up to his face, pulling him in for a quick kiss. Before her could latch on to her though, Firiel slipped down to her knees, coyly kissing her way along the hair that trailed down into his trousers. Fili found that he could only watch her, winding his hands into her curls. Firiel ran her hands along the bulge of his pants, enjoying the way he gripped her hair and nearly pulled her into it. She ran her hands along the length a few times before undoing his belt. She grabbed his pants and peeled them away to reveal his erect member. It was long and thick, and she could feel her own juices dripping down her thigh at the sight. She actually found herself drooling a little. That had never happened before him, but she didn't stop to dwell on it.
Without a second thought, she took him in her mouth, bringing in as much of him as she could take. She gagged on him, and found he reached the back of her throat. And she could still wrap her thumb and index finger around the base. Firiel thought she might be able to take all of him in again, but found she couldn't when he hit her gag reflex for the second time. Instead, she wrapped her hand around the base of this shaft, squeezing and pumping as she sucked on him. Fili's fist wound tighter into her hair as he stared down at her, mesmerized and completely turned on. He actually had to grab hold of the wall to steady himself after a particularly strong pump. Firiel soon pulled away though, panting harder than he was. Her jaw actually hurt, and she looked up at him to apologize as she rubbed her joint.
"Sorry, my endurance isn't exactly fantast-."
Firiel didn't have time to finish her sentence. Fili pulled her up off the ground, slamming his lips against hers to kill that thought. How could she ever think she had to apologize for that? He could taste himself on her, and it thrilled him entirely. He felt her settle into their kiss and wrap her arms around his neck with a contented sigh and a delightful little moan. He bit down on her lip and she gave a pleasure-soaked cry that bubbled up from the back of her throat like champagne. He was getting drunk off the sound. He had to have her. Had to hear what sweet sounds she would make in the throes of ecstasy.
Placing both hands under her thighs, Fili picked her right up off the ground. Firiel squealed and giggled in delight, grabbing tight to his massive shoulders. He kicked off his trousers and walked them over to the bed, laying her down gently and climbing on top of her. He and Firiel both worked quickly to pull the nightgown over her head, and soon her whole body was exposed to him. She was even more glorious than he had imagined. Her powerful legs sloped down from her wide, long hips, which fanned out from her delicate waist. The curls of her pubic hair looked soft as anything, and he could see clearly the lips of her womanhood, which were nearly the same pink as those delicious lips he kissed so fervently. Her breasts he was already acquainted with (and they were no less stunning than the first time he saw them), as he was with the flush of her cheeks and the loose, dirty-blonde curls that fanned out around her. When he looked into her eyes, her beautiful, fiery eyes, the picture was complete. This was Firiel. This was the woman he loved.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed, looming forwards to kiss her forehead.
"Thank you," she smiled cutely at him, "You're not so bad yourself."
And that was an understatement. Every muscle on Fili's body was big, sturdy and perfectly shaped. Firiel could have stared at him staring at her the whole night. His eyes were filled with longing, lust, and a beautiful warmth that made her feel like she was the sun in the sky. Her heart had never felt move full than it did here, with him. To her, this was as intimate as any conversation they could ever have.
He laughed at her joke and kissed her again, running his hands down her sides. Firiel could feel his callouses and the bandage she had wrapped around his hand scratching her sensitive skin, but it wasn't a bad scratching at all. She rather liked it. Soon, those hands were rubbing gentle circles along her hips, and, very shorty, one made its way to her womanhood. Firiel gasped as Fili inserted one of his huge, thick fingers inside of her, arching her back and moaning deeply. He soon began to stretch her long neglected body with a second finger, bending down to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. This time when she cried out, he felt her inner walls clamp down on his fingers, and it drove him on to bite down on her nipple. Firiel gave a moan very near to a scream, winding her hands into his hair and arching her breasts up towards him even more. God, he was so good at this. He began to move is fingers in and out as he assaulted her sensitive nipples, thrusting them back and forth inside of her. Firiel though she was going to explode.
"Oh god, Fili," she moaned his name, "Fili!'
The sound of his name on her lips spurred him on even farther. He left her breast and travelled downward, quickly spotting his destination tucked among her short curls. Pulling Firiel's legs farther apart with his free hand, Fili bent down and began to suck on her swollen nub as he fingered her. Firiel's toes curled at the sensation, and sharp fire shot through her. White-hot pleasure began to build up inside her, and Fili had to hold her hips down as they bucked forwards.
"Oh god, I'm so close," she whispered, "Oh god, oh god, Fili!"
She climaxed in a blast of searing pleasure, crying out as her orgasm hit her. Fili watched as her chest jerked upwards and her stomach muscles flexed, her head lolling back and exposing her throat as her eyes screwed shut and her beautiful pout dropped into a perfect "o". He felt her orgasm almost pulling his fingers in deeper, and her voice had gone horse from her cries towards the end of it. Again, she was even better than he had imagined. She lay there, panting, as the last inklings of her orgasm ran through her legs. She pulled herself up on her elbows then and looked down at Fili, who was still between her legs, smiling. He smiled back and pulled himself back over top of her, and grinned like a moron when Firiel kissed him cutely on the nose.
The cuteness didn't last though, for, before he knew it, he was on his back, Firiel straddling him and kissing him with a renewed energy and passion he wouldn't have known her capable of mustering. He could feel the tip of his erection poking at her soaking wet entrance, and moaned at the teasing sensation, immediately harder than rock. Firiel sat back from him then, and as they looked at one another, a seriousness coming over them. This was it.
"You know, once we do this, there's no turning back," Firiel murmured to him in the candlelight, "We can never go back to the way we were. We can't ever walk away from this. Is that alright with you?"
Fili looked up into her eyes, and saw the uncertainty that lingered there. She was afraid. Afraid he would someday decide he didn't want her. Afraid of what the future might hold for them. Fili sat up then, pulling her in for another kiss. He tried to put everything into it. Tried to let her know how much he wanted her, and only her. For the rest of his life, he knew it could only be her. No one else would ever do, and nothing could compare to being with her. To the way she made him feel.
"How could I ever want to walk away from this?" he breathed against her mouth, "From you? You're all I ever want. No one else will ever be enough. Nothing else matters but this. But being with you. I want only you. …Is that alright with you?"
Now, Firiel was uncertain as to what this meant. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't know what he meant, because she most certainly did. He wanted to be with her, no matter the consequences. And the consequences could potentially be many.
Fili was a dwarf, for starters. It only really mattered that he was a dwarf due to the simple fact that, while dwarves live well over two hundred years, hobbits lived a hundred twenty at maximum. And twenty-seven of her years were already spent. Nearly twenty-eight, now that she thought about it. Even if he was already a hundred years old, she would grow old and fade away whilst he was still a young man. She would die and leave him.
Upon the thought of age, Firiel's mind immediately wandered to children. What would they be like? Could they even have children? She had heard of the half-orcs born of human women, so clearly orcs and men could breed. There were half-elves running around Middle Earth, so that was also a possibility. Half-dwarves, born of human women usually, were known of as well. But half-hobbits? Much less dwarf-hobbits? She'd never heard of such a thing. Hobbits didn't breed with other races; they stuck to their own kind. How long would their children live? Would she leave them too, long before they were ready to be without a mother?
Then came the fact that he was a prince. Of a people of another race. He could, would be their king someday. Would they accept a hobbit as the king's wife? Would she even be allowed to marry him? Or worse, would he have to marry someone else? Would she only be a mistress to the king?
With all this uncertainty, only one thing was infinitely clear to Firiel. In spite of all of this, and no matter how selfish she felt it was, she loved Fili. Loved him. And she knew she would always love him. She didn't need all that certainty to know that she wanted to be with him. Enough to leave everything behind. Enough to live underneath the rocks of a mountain kingdom for the rest of her cripplingly short life. Enough that she felt she could face the disapproval of his people. Enough to stand beside him until death took her from this world.
She had never loved anyone like this before.
"Firiel?" she heard him calling to her softly, "Firiel, are you alright?"
She snapped her head up towards him, realizing she had spaced out. He looked confused, and mildly hurt, and it made her heart bleed. Firiel soon kissed him back just as passionately, trying to put all of her feelings into her own kiss as well. Suddenly, nothing else mattered anymore, except the two of them. She knew she had fallen in love, and there could be no denying it now. No one else would ever measure up to this. To him. It wasn't the hormones talking, and that she was certain of. She had decided to be his long ago, though she had only just realized it. She had been lost from the moment he had looked at her with those eyes like the sky. Boundless and bright, filled with endless possibility. They were her greatest adventure. She pulled back from him and looked into his now mildly dazed eyes.
"I've never been better," she admitted softly, "I have everything I could ever want right here. With you. …Am I scared? Completely. I'm terrified for being hurt again. Terrified of what the future could hold for us.
"But, at the same time, it's you," she concluded, placing her hand along his jaw, "And I don't have to be afraid."
At that, Fili smiled, pulling her back in again. Firiel allowed him to draw her in, and they began to spiral down beyond the point of no return. Firiel grabbed hold of him and lined him up with her entrance. Fili placed his hands on her hips to help guide her down slowly. By the gods, she was tight. She was still so wet from her orgasm that he slid in with ease, slowly stretching her in ways she had never felt before. Firiel held tight to his shoulders, moaning and digging her nails into them. His hips were so much wider than hers that she could feel her own hips craning from the stretch. He was so big. And so much bigger than her. By the time he was all the way in, they were both panting like dogs. Fili could feel her trembling, and kissed her shoulder gently.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
"Yeah," Firiel exhaled, her breath a shivering moan within itself, "Oh god, you're stretching me…"
Oh gods, did he know it too. He could feel her body trying to accommodate him, and it made his ego swell. He'd make sure that no one could ever satisfy her again after this. No one but him. Every shuddering breath she took, he could feel her insides pulsing. After a moment, her breathing returned to a decent sphere.
"Alright," she whispered, "Alright….Ok, ok we can move now."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
At that, Firiel began to raise herself up slowly, Fili guiding her with gentle hands. Her legs were shaking, and, as she came down again, she was so filled that she could hardly breathe. A few times more, and she gave a sharp hiss as pain shot through her hip joints. Fili stilled her immediately.
"What's wrong?"
"Ah, my hips." she rubbed her joints harshly, "I haven't done this in a while."
"Do you want me to take over?"
"That would probably be a good idea."
He helped her slide off, and Firiel nearly cried at the sudden emptiness she felt. But once he pulled her off his lap, she did cry a bit, from the pain in her hips. Her joints were stinging and burning, and her muscles hated her. Fili was over her in an instant as she lay back on the bed, his hands massaging her.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing her nose and forehead.
"It's alright, it's not your fault," she replied.
"Should we stop?"
"Are you nuts? I'll be fine. There should be less strain on my hips like this."
Fili was uncertain, but nodded anyways. He wanted to please her, not hurt her. Ever so gently, he crawled over top of her and lined himself up with her entrance. Placing his hands just above her shoulders, he slid back into her, delighting at the gorgeous moan she gave. She grabbed hold of his face and wrapped her legs up around him, as if to pull him in deeper. Fili smiled a bit as Firiel pulled him in for a kiss, and got down on his elbows, placing his hand up behind her back and grabbing her shoulders. With his weight bearing down on her and his body covering her like a shield, Firiel had never felt safer. Or more precious. He soon began a steady pace, gently trusting in and out of her. The feeling of her body around him was more pleasurable than anything he had felt or imagined before, and his ears were singing at every gasp and moan she gave in them.
"Harder," she begged him.
Her wish was his command, and he pounded into her, keeping that steady pace. Firiel gasped and cried out, pleasure slamming through her. Her hands were on his back, probably leaving deep red welts as they dug into his skin and scratched him with every thrust. The pain was euphoric and it drove him on further. He began to pick up speed, and Firiel thought she was going to pass out from the feeling as that white hot pleasure she had felt before began to build up again.
"Oh god, Fili, harder! Faster!"
He used that amazing strength of his and rammed into her, and Firiel saw stars, her hips jerking upwards to meet his next thrust.
"There! Right there!"
A couple thrusts later, and he knew he had found that spot again when Firiel cried out, her chest arching upwards and her head lolling back. He pistoned his hip expertly, hitting that spot again and again and delighting in the way his love cried out at every thrust. Soon her short cried were long, wavering moans and Fili felt his release building up. Not yet. He needed her to cum again.
"Touch yourself," he commanded headily in her ear, biting down on the lobe.
Firiel didn't need to be told twice. She slithered her little hand down between them and began to rub her clitoris. It seemed to usual one-fingered circles were not enough, and Firiel scrambled a bit to find something that worked as Fili continued to penetrate her. When she took her index and middle finger and pressed down, digging in and moving them in circles to match the pace of Fili's thrusts, her toes curled and she felt her entire womanhood clamped around him in sweet ecstasy as her legs began to tremble and her mouth fell open with a silent scream. That was it. She could feel another orgasm building up like first waves of a tsunami as he slammed into her body, filling her completely with every thrust.
"Ah! Fili! Oh yes, oh god yes! I'm so close!"
Their eyes met, and Fili could see only her. She had to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Her eyes were fogged with pleasure. Her beautiful lips were parted and allowing only the most intoxicating sounds to pass through them. She was writhing and crying out beneath him, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. So beautiful. And she was his. His eyes were dark and devouring every inch of her that he could see. The sight of him brought Firiel even higher; as did the word that tumbled from his lips as he placed his forehead against her own.
"Firiel," he murmured her name amongst his pants and grunts with a tenderness she had never heard before.
That was all it took to drive her over the edge.
"Oh god, Fili, I'm-AH!
Her orgasm slammed into her, the final, fatal wave of the tsunami washing over her and drowning her in its hot, flaming depths. The sight and feeling of her orgasm around him brought Fili his own release. The sensation of his hot seed filling her brought Firiel's orgasm to a whole new level. They were truly one.
Within two thrusts, Fili was spent, and they both lay there, panting and bathing in the afterglow. Firiel could feel the remnants of their lovemaking beginning to drip out of her and down her bottom, but she was too exhausted to move, much less care. His weight crushing into her felt so sweet and surreal. Although soon it was too much.
"…Fili?"
"Mmm?"
He couldn't even form words. He didn't want to move. That had been too wonderful. She was too wonderful. How had he gotten this lucky?
"You're crushing me."
At that, they both laughed a little.
"Sorry about that," he smiled, pulling himself up on his elbows to look down at her, "I don't mean to crush you."
"Not to worry," she said, pecking his nose, "I don't mind it too much. It was just getting a little hard to breathe."
"Ah," he pecked her nose back, "Now that would be a problem."
He pulled out and rolled off of her, and Firiel shivered at the emptiness she suddenly felt, and the cold that immediately attacked her body. It was short lived, for soon Fili had her gathered up in his arms, pulling her on top of him as he lay back on the bed. The beds of men were always impressively large, so this simple twin bed had much more room for the two than it would for you or I.
So they lay there, Firiel's head resting on his chest as she ran her fingers through the thick blond hair that grew there, Fili stroking her back and playing with her curl. Firiel could hear his heartbeat. That strong, steady beating which increased in speed when he inhaled was like music to her. She wondered if this is what it was like for everyone. Being wrapped up in someone to the point that their heartbeat made you happy. She suddenly became aware of even more fluids dripping from her body and snickered a bit.
"Well there goes my bath," she snorted.
"Ah, it's alright," he said (and she could feel the words rumbling through his chest), "We'll just have to take one together."
Firiel looked up at him then and saw that he was smirking up at the ceiling. She jabbed her finger into his belly, and his muscles only twitched a bit at the assault. He looked down at her though, and she knew she was in trouble.
"Fili, don't you-AH!"
Before she could have finished her sentence, they were flipped over again, and she was having the living daylights tickled out of her. She screamed and squealed with laughter, to the point where she thought her sides were going to explode. Every time she opened her eyes to look at him, he was wearing the most devilish grin. He easily had her hands pinned up over her head, and Firiel found she could only kick and gasp for air. And grin just as wide at the whole experience.
"Alright! Alright! I give up!" she squealed, "Enough!"
Fili finally released her then, and she lay there, panting and giggling. It seemed he just really wanted her to sweat tonight. She soon fixed a fake glare on him though, trying her darndest not to smile.
"I do not appreciate that," she tried to glower, but found her silly grin breaking through.
"Well I do apologize, my lady," Fili bowed stuck his arms out and bowed with a teasing flourish, "I can assure you it won't happen again."
"Liar," Firiel muttered, sticking her tongue out at him.
"Careful," he swooped down to kiss her forehead, "Or I may have to teach your tongue some manners."
"Oh, you'd enjoy that way too much," Firiel swatted his shoulder playfully.
Fili nodded his head after a moment and rolled off of Firiel once again, this time grabbing the sheets and pulling them both under the covers. Firiel loved the way he could pick her up like she was almost nothing. She loved how strong he was.
Once they were settled, spooning beneath the sheets, Firiel found her mind wandering to an earlier thought she had had. As wonderful as all of this was, she still didn't know how in Earth they were going to continue their relationship. They reached Erebor tomorrow, and Thorin's intension was to rebuild the kingdom. What would that mean for them?
"Fili?"
"Yes?"
Firiel paused then, unsure of how to proceed into this conversation. She feared she might ruin their whole evening. Fili thought something might be wrong.
"What is it?" he asked, running his chin along the top of her head.
"Well, I was just…" she murmured, "We still haven't figured out how we're even going to be a "we" yet. How does this – us – work?"
Fili sighed, and Firiel felt his breath ruffling her curls. Fili pulled her even closer, her whole body flushed against him.
"I don't know," he whispered back, "I've been thinking about that myself."
"And?"
"Well, I'm not sure, really," he told her honestly, "I know, and Thorin has reminded me, that a dwarf king cannot take any wife unless she is a dwarf. That's how it as always been."
"Oh…"
Firiel felt her heart sink, and her hope for the future began to shrivel up slowly.
"But, just because you could never be my queen, it doesn't mean we have no options," Fili continued, "My great-grandfather never took a wife."
"How was it decided your grandfather would be king then?"
"Well, he had children with only one woman," he explained, "She was not noble by birth, but he loved her. And my grandfather was in fact his only child."
"So, if we had children, how would that work?"
"They could not take the throne, for they would not really be considered dwarves. It is the race of the mother our half-blooded children are identified by."
"Well, that's rather inconvenient. Given the general animosity towards dwarves, I take it they usual aren't welcomed by their mothers' races either?"
"I must admit, I hadn't really concerned myself with it before this conversation, but yes, that is generally how it is."
"…So, they would be all alone?"
"Oh no, not at all. As much as they are identified by their mothers' races, that only really matters when it comes down to affairs like…well, throne inheritance, really. That and other archaic political matters."
"So, let's see if I've got this right," Firiel turned towards him in his arms, "Essentially, a union between you and I would result in you having no queen and no heirs with any claim to the throne. I'm not a monarch, but, last time I checked, those were sort of important."
Fili laughed at that.
"It wouldn't be that I have no heirs," he smiled down at her, "Kili would take the throne after me, and his sons after him."
"You honestly think Kili will get married and have children?"
"While I admit that married is a stretch, children-."
"I see your point…And, if Kili had no children? Would you be forced to have children with someone else?"
Fili was shocked by the question, for it seemed a rather silly one to him. He looked into her eyes and saw it was not nearly so silly a question to her. She looked so serious, and he saw her bottom lip threatening to tremble.
"Never," he whispered with wide eyes, "Never would I have another but you. How could you ever think that?"
"Well, I don't know," Firiel replied, "I don't know a lot about dwarves. I know little enough of what I know about elves and men through my books, and I have none on dwarves. You're a rather secretive people. I didn't know if someone might suggest it or some such nonsense."
"No one would dare ask," he assured her, tucking some hair behind her ear, "We dwarves are a possessive people. We marry but one in our lives and not even death allows us to stray. Should another ever make advances towards you, you'll quickly come to find I am a very jealous man."
Firiel's mind wandered back to their time in Mirkwood, when Fili had, in his hypnotized state, attacked Ori. It suddenly made sense to her now, for Ori had been attracted to her, even though he was far too shy to ever act on it. It explained why he felt the need to hold and touch her. To stand beside her and keep near to her at all times. It was programmed into him. And she loved it.
"Are hobbits not like that?" he asked her, his eyes uncertain.
Did he fear she might someday stray?
"It differs from hobbit to hobbit, as a rule," she told him, "I know widows and widowers who've died alone after their husbands and wives died early, but women are very much pressured to remarry. Were my father to die, my mother might be forced to take another husband, simply because of the way hobbit culture is. Women live out their lives in the home, and are usually provided for after marriage."
"Really?" he seemed fascinated, "Our women continue on with their work after marriage and raise their children. Nothing really changes except that they're married with children."
"Really?" Firiel was equally fascinated, "That sounds so wonderful. No one gives them any trouble for it?"
"Why would anyone give them trouble for it?"
"Well, I never really knew," Firiel admitted with a laugh, "It seemed rather silly to me."
"Though, it's not unless in great need that they usually venture outside our cities," he told her, "There are so few of them that we cannot afford to lose any. Otherwise we might die out."
"Well, that makes sense," Firiel nodded, "There are so many hobbits that no one really fusses about such things."
"Really?"
"Really," Firiel told him, "We're quite a fertile race compared to most, is my understanding. My father is one of seven children."
"Seven?!" he seemed shocked, "How on Earth did his mother manage to have seven children?"
"You are asking the wrong woman," she said, "My mother and Uncle Bilbo are only two, which is a rather small number amongst hobbit families. But I feel it's a good number."
"Seven…" he murmured, still caught up by the number, "My mother could barely keep up with two of us…Do you think we might have seven children?"
"Absolutely not," Firiel stated plainly, "I forbid it."
"I think we could do it."
"I know we could do it. But hobbit babes are small. Imagine me giving birth to seven half-dwarf children. You're already so much bigger than I am!"
"Well I wasn't born this big," he laughed.
"I'm sure if I meet your mother, she'll tell me you were a bruiser."
"Don't you mean when?"
"Aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves here?"
"We're talking about children and marriage, and you think meeting my mother qualifies as "getting ahead of ourselves"?"
Firiel sighed. He was stubborn as a mule. Wonderfully so.
"So, back to our earlier discussion, what will happen if Kili has no sons?"
"If Kili had no children, there is always Dain."
"Who's Dain?"
"Our cousin. He and his sons would be first in line should Kili and I ever fail to produce heirs."
"And Thorin would be alright with all that?"
"Probably not."
"Do we have any options that would involve not giving your uncle a brain aneurism?"
"None that don't involve him getting married and having his own children."
They both snorted at the thought. As if that would ever happen. Firiel closed her eyes, simply enjoying the feeling of lying so close to him. Suddenly, the thought of their future was not nearly so stressful. They could have one, and that was all that matter to her. Another thought came to Firiel suddenly, and it was not a pleasant one.
"You do know I'm not going to live very long, right?" she asked him, "Hobbits live maybe a hundred years, and dwarves live how long?"
"About two and a half centuries," Fili said, "But why does that matter?"
"Why does it matter?" Firiel was shocked by how casual he was being, "I'll grow old and die on you while you're still a spring chicken!"
"And?"
"Well, you said dwarves only take one wife," she explained, "One life partner. Our time together would be so fleeting. Do you really want someone you can't grow old with? I can't bear the thought of you living out your life alone."
"I told you, didn't I? I'll have only one, and I want it to be you. It has to be you. Nothing can ever change my mind."
He kissed her nose and tucked her beneath his chin, and that seemed to be the end of it. Firiel was in shock for a moment. He said that didn't matter. Had he even thought about what that meant? She soon came to realize that he must have. Fili was not stupid. He was not nearly so young as she was either, though they appeared to be around the same age. He knew very well how long she would live. And, if he said it didn't matter to him, she simply had to trust that. Firiel drifted off into a dreamless sleep that night, safe in the arms of her lover.
Fili (who remained awake long after Firiel had fallen asleep) had indeed thought about her short life, and found the thought filling him with just as much sadness as it had many times before. It was too late now to love another. It had been too late since he had met her. As he traced his still bandaged hand over the curve of her waist, he began to think less of their long-term possibilities, and more of their immediate future.
Tomorrow, they would head to Erebor to reclaim the Arkenstone, and soon reclaim the home of his ancestors. He would help his uncle to take back their homeland. Help him reclaim his throne. And then what? Would Thorin really allow him to build a life with her? He doubted it. The only reason the king still allowed them any closeness at all was because he had made her Fili's charge on their journey. He had told himself it didn't matter whether or not Thorin approved, but that childish thought was paling in the face of the reality that had finally come to loom down over them. Thorin would be king of a mighty empire, and he would have the power to separate them for all of eternity if he saw fit.
The steady push and pull of Firiel's breathing against his chest brought him back to the present. To this moment with her. He wondered if he should head to his own room, so as to avoid suspicion. He immediately pushed the thought aside. Kili would cover for him. And he wanted to wake up to her beautiful face, just as he had grown so accustomed to doing throughout their journey.