They were wed five months later. Nearly everyone in the town had come, Bard having grown up there and nearly everyone liking Lily's kind nature – and all of them happy the two were together. She had been beautiful in her white dress, which Rose had slaved over for four and a half months, more beautiful than Bard had thought imaginable. He had been nervous the night before, but seeing her as Rose led her toward him anything other than joy left him. It had been one of the first times he'd truly smiled; when they were pronounced husband and wife.

She herself had been nervous as most women were, but she loved him. What she did not love was waiting – she never had. But he did not make it easy; he'd kiss her in ways that had her nearly begging. But he was adamant they would be wed before they laid together, and so he continued to tease her – knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her (for he himself sometimes wanted to give in).

And so there they were, five months later, standing in what was now their home completely nude in front of each other for the first time. Lily may not have been a maiden but she most certainly felt like one; as did Bard though he had never been with a woman. She reached for him, her fingertips soft on his chest, and that was all it took for him to pull her to him; a hand wound in her hair the other around her back, their mouths moving desperately together.

Their sounds were loud, harsh in the quiet home, as they laid together for the first time as husband and wife. She felt so small beneath him, his body completely covering hers and weighing her down; he enveloped her. She kept her hands around his hips, pulling him closer, pacing him slower; and all the while he groaned in her ear, and she mewled in his.

She had never known such joy, such love, as she did then; his arms cradling her, his hips bucking, her name a heavy moan against her throat. She loved him. In that moment and the rest of her life, there was nothing – no one – she would ever love more. Or so she thought.

Little more than a year after they were wed, Lily gave birth to their son Bain. "He looks like you," she said as she stared down at her son. And he did, even as a newborn his dark hair was a mess – like Bard's.

Bard smoothed the hair off her forehead, kissing her gently. "He has your eyes," he mumbled against her cheek, feeling her smile.

She cupped his face in her hand. "I love you," she said softly, lifting her chin to meet his lips.

It never stopped leaving him breathless to hear her say that, seeing just how much she did in her bright blue eyes. He kissed her over and over, giving her all he had, and never would he ever regret loving her. She was worth all the patience in the world, all the understanding and time he'd given her. He pressed a tiny little flower in a new drawing book – for the other book she said was complete - putting it on the page after the one he'd given her when she told him she was with child.

He would have stopped giving her flowers only that she loved them so much. There was a small smile she would get as she pressed the flower; writing the circumstance for which he'd given them. This book started with the flowers from their wedding.

Beside this day's flower he wrote the date of Bain's birth. He turned to the bed to ask if she wanted him to write anything else to see her holding Bain in the crook of her arm, both fast asleep. He smiled before turning to a new page and sketching the two of them.

She stirred only slightly when he laid beside her, and he pulled her to his chest, stroking their son's cheek as he slept in her arms. He looked to his wife next, seeing her beautiful sleeping face, and thinking he couldn't love her more. He was happy, truly and utterly happy; and for the second time, as he pressed a kiss against her cheek, he smiled.

...

eleven years later

Lily carried her basket in the crook of her arm, walking away from the market with the food she would make for a few night's dinners. Bain was practising sword fighting with the other boys and Bard was at his post with the town's archers - which he was the leader of, and had been for seven years. She would visit Rose before she started on dinner, she thought. For Bard had told her he would not make her work, she was his wife and he would take care of her; and she missed spending time with Rose.

"Lily," he called when she walked past. He watched as she turned, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth as it always did. Shock marred her features, her eyes widened and her lips parted as she gasped.

"Thorin?"

The importance of this chapter is obviously her and Bard getting married and having their son. But also that Thorin wasn't mentioned in the beginning of this chapter; but that's not to say she doesn't think about him from time to time. Only now Thorin is a memory that she thinks she'll never see again. But next chapter they do, and I can't wait.
I'm going on a plane today, and I really don't like flying. So if it wouldn't be too much to ask, please leave me some reviews. It would really make my day.