Chapter Sixty-Two: Like Hobbits, Humans, Elves, and Dwarves

She went to bed that night with a smile on her face. Safely cocooned in her room and away from the prying, if not delighted, eyes of Bilbo and Fili, she was able to admire the ring on her finger for the first time in full. It was a delicate little thing, simple save for the single sapphire set in the middle, and glowed at even the smallest hint of moonlight.

She held up her hand and moved it back and forth, admiring it.

Emelia Kinsington Montgomery was engaged.

Affianced.

Betrothed, intended, attached, involved.

Boo-ed up.

The reality of it settled over her in bits and pieces as she laid in her bed, staring up at the ring. She was marrying Kili. What had once been an abstraction, a faraway thought that she never allowed herself to consider in full, was now reality. Even without saying vows or making promises, she knew she would love him for rest of her life. And she knew he felt the same. All the rest they would figure out when the time came.

All the rest was just frosting.

Her bedroom door creaked open and Kili stepped inside, moonlight lighting up his face. He was ready for bed, dressed down to nothing but a thin linen shirt and loose pants. He was barefoot. Her eyes trailed down, distracted, for just a brief moment, by the sudden appearance of a part of his body she had never seen. He looked so casual, so effortlessly comfortable and at ease, that she felt her face break into a large smile. She rolled off her bed and met him just as he closed the door.

"Ready?" She asked, bouncing up and down on her toes in excitement.

He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek.

"Yes," He said against her skin, moving up slightly and causing her to squirm as his beard tickled her skin. When she leaned back and looked up at him, she was pleased to see he was sporting the same goofy smile that she was.

She dropped her hand down to his and pulled him back to her bed, a sudden nervousness overtaking her. It was a big thing, what she was about to do, about to commit to, and she didn't want to mess it up. It was his culture, after all, it wouldn't bode well if she managed to muck up the first step she took to join it.

But it was just a braid.

Granted, the most important braid of her entire life, but a braid nonetheless.

The meaning behind it, however, was far more important.

They sat down in front of each other on the bed, legs crossed and knees touching. The bead that she had made for him sat in a safe place on her bedside table and she turned to grab her, fingers shaking. When she turned back to face him, he had produced his own bead. He held it up to her for her to see, turning it left and right, up and down, over and under, until she got the fullest picture possible of what was about to be braided into her hair.

"So, who goes first?" She asked, feeling some of her anxiety waning and giving way to excitement once again.

"According to tradition, the lesser clan member goes first."

Emelia took no offense at the idea of being the 'lesser' clan. She wasn't even sure her family of four could really be considered a clan at all, but even if they were, they certainly weren't royalty. She turned around and scooted back until her hips were pressed against his legs. He didn't move for a moment, apparently quite content to let her anticipation linger, before she felt his hands in her hair.

There was a slight pull as he began the intricate braid and Emelia had to bite her lip to keep from gasping.

Kili's hands brushed against her skin, pausing at the juncture of her neck and shoulders before they moved down to her hips and turned her around. The braid and bead were buried deep in her hair, hidden to all but the two of them. She reached up a hand to touch it, holding eye contact with him as she did.

It felt a home nestled into her curls, like it was always meant to be there and always would be.

"Your turn," He said, fingers flexing into her hips as he pulled her forward and onto his lap. Her legs settled on either side of him and her nightdress shifted up.

"You'll tell me what to do?" She asked, hands moving up to the hair just behind his left ear.

"Of course."

And he did. He walked her through every step, every twist and flip, until she slid the bead into place and finished the braid. She held it between her fingers, silence settling over them save for the sound of their breathing. Her hands shifted and tangled in his hair as she pulled herself closer to him, their chests pressed together and arms wrapped around each other.

"I've had a thought," He said after a moment, leaning back slightly to look at her.

"Oh?"

"We should get married."

"I agree," She said, smirking.

"No, I mean, we should get married soon, tomorrow if we can. Here. Before we go back to Erebor."

The suggestion caught her off guard but she did her absolute best to not let it show on her face. "Why?"

"I don't want to wait the months it will take us to get back."

"Is that allowed? Aren't there, like, protocols or something?"

"A few."

Emelia pursed her lips. She cared not one ounce about what Thorin Oakenshield might have to say about them getting married outside the mountain. In fact, she thought she might relish the look on his face if her circumstances were different, but they weren't and she could little afford to draw his ire when she was relying on him to end her banishment.

"I don't know, Kee." She hated to say it, hated that she had to be rational when all she wanted was to grab his hand and drag him to the Shire's version of the courthouse and be done with it.

"It wouldn't be valid by our traditions, but I want to honor yours. It would just be for me and you."

"Just for me and you," She repeated, considering the proposition.

It was a deeply romantic notion. A moment for just the two of them, to share in forever without all the pomp and circumstance, and to celebrate the wedding traditions that she had always grown up thinking about.

It would be like living on their own little island. A place for them and them alone and inaccessible to anyone else.

It really didn't take her much convincing at that point and she smiled like a loon as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

"Does this color make me look sickly?"

The dress shop in the Shire was small, barely large enough for Emelia, Bilbo, and Dwalin to fit inside, and filled to the brim with every style dress, skirt, shift, and shirt imaginable. She stood in the middle of the small room, balanced precariously on a rickety wooden box, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her dress was the lightest green possible, bordering on white, and made from the finest silk. It was expensive, especially on such short notice, but the way it hugged her chest and made her look like she actually had curves made it well worth it.

"Not at all," Bilbo said, hopping up from his seat and crossing the small space in three steps. "You look beautiful."

"You're not just saying that?" She asked, turning back to look at herself.

"No, no, of course not." She caught his eye in the reflection and she could have sword she saw just the barest hint of tears. On her other side, Dwalin, looking very much like he wanted to be literally anywhere else, simply nodded. It was about as much as she would get from him, so she took it as a positive sign.

The dressmaker, Florabel, came back in, fighting with a large crinoline as she came to stand next to her, breathing heavily from the effort. "What do we think?"

"Well, I've got one enthusiastic seal of approval and one well-reasoned nod, so I think we're in good shape."

"Let me poof it up a bit, so you can get a better idea."

Florabel bent down and placed the crinoline at her feet, indicating for her to step into it. She yanked it up to her waist and tied it to her bloomers, shocking Emelia with the precision and quickness. She smoothed down the silky fabric so that it laid like it was supposed to, fluffing up the end of the skirt. When she finished with the dress, she produced a small crown of flowers, delicate and fresh and perfectly matched to the dress, and set it on top of her head. The effect was immediate, and Emelia found herself quite unable to process the sight in front of her.

It certainly wasn't the wedding dress she had always pictured, short as it was and covered in intricately sewn flowers, but it was the wedding dress she wanted.

Her hands moved up and down the dress, reveling in the feel of it, in the feel of herself in it, and in the idea of getting to marry Kili while wearing it.

"I'll take it," She said, voice filled with confidence.

"Wonderful!"

Florabel helped her down from the crate and led her back to the small room in the back. She helped her out of the dress as carefully as possible, setting aside all the bits and pieces to finish up the tailoring in the next few days. Emelia got dressed in her old clothing, which now felt so plain in comparison, and rejoined the other two, a bounce in her step that had not gone away in the last few days.

"This Friday, is it?" Florabel asked, following after her.

"Yes, at Bag End. You'll be coming, right?"

"Of course," Florabel said, smiling at her. She disappeared into the back room for a moment before she returned with a small bag and handed it to Emelia, a touch of pink in her cheeks. "A little something else."

Emelia clutched the bag to her side, her own cheeks red as well when she took a peek inside and saw the lace. Dwalin lumbered to his feet and headed towards the door, clearly quite done with the outing and having reached his fill of watching her try on dresses for several lifetimes. His sourness was to be understood. She did, after all, try on seventeen dresses before she settled on the last one. She refused to let his gruff mood ruin her day, however, so she stuck her tongue out at him as their small group left the shop.

It was a sunny day, as all days seemed to be in the Shire in June, and the little market was awash with activity.

Emelia tilted her head up and closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of the heat on her skin.

"So, anything else we need while here?" Bilbo asked, looping his arm through hers as they started to walk together. Dwalin trailed behind them, arms crossed over his chest. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, making a face at him that she hoped would cause him to, at the very least, crack a small smile, he simply nodded at her and continued to walk.

"I need to pick something up from the blacksmith."

"Oh, of course, we can ju…"

"Actually, could you go meet Kili and Fili and make sure they haven't burned everything down?"

She tried not to make it obvious that she was trying to, kindly, get rid of him.

But Bilbo seemed to get the hint and, offended or otherwise, he nodded and held out his hand for her bag.

"Oh no, I'll hold onto this." Her cheeks blushed crimson and she pulled it to hide it behind her back. Subtlety had never been much of a strong suit for her, and, upon seeing her reaction, Bilbo pulled his hand back like it had been burned. Emelia cleared her throat and tried to diffuse the awkwardness by smiling at him. "Anyway, we'll be home soon."

If Dwalin had any issue, he said nothing. Instead he simply moved to stand next to her, clearly sensing that she wanted to spend just a few minutes alone with him. She wasn't certain what she was planning on saying, truthfully, but it felt like it was necessary. He was gruff man at the best of times, surly and disagreeable and rough by her estimation, but he was also not unkind.

She waited until Bilbo was out of sight before she turned to Dwalin and smiled.

"So."

"The blacksmith," Dwalin said, holding out his arm for indicate for her to lead the way.

Silence carried them all the way to the blacksmith, although it was not entirely uncomfortable. Even though he was meant to accompany her, he stayed outside while she popped in to pick up the ring. The transaction was quick and Ghoff, much to her great surprise, offered her his sincere congratulations. He even gave her a discount, although it was hardly enough to notice. She thanked him profusely, and even managed to pull a smile from the disagreeable hobbit before she left.

"Anything else?" Dwalin asked, glancing down at the ring her in her hand.

"What do you think?" Emelia held it up for him to see, letting the sunlight reflect off it just a bit. It was not nearly as ornate as the one Kili gave her, the metal not so fine and craftsmanship not nearly as precise, but it was silver to match hers and that was what she wanted. To be marked out as a unit, a single entity and being. She wanted to be part of him, his family and his customs and his traditions, and she wanted to do it as quickly as possible.

She supposed Friday wasn't too far away now.

Only three more sleeps.

Three more restless, excited, frenetic sleeps.

The reality was beginning to settle over her and she found herself becoming more and more giddy.

But there was also a touch of panic and sadness mingled in with all the happiness. She was getting married. It was a very adult prospect, one that she had watched her parents do successfully for eighteen years, and she wished she had her parents there to tell her what she should expect. Marriage was, of course, what the two people involved decided to make of it. It could be a passionate, addicting affair that set everything on fire around them. Or it could be something filled with a deep understanding and appreciation. It could be cold and aloof, or funny and joyful, or quiet and thoughtful, or some combination of them all.

It would be what they wanted, unique to them and them alone.

"No," She finally said, moving just a little bit closer to Dwalin so she could wrap her hand around his bicep. She slipped the ring into her pocket as they started to walk away from the blacksmith, pace leisurely and comfortable. "But, I did want to talk to you."

"About?" Dwalin said, like the words were forcibly removed from him.

"About what you make of all this. You've been quieter than normal, and I can sense your silent judgment." Dwalin scoffed, but did not try and pull his arm back. He peered sideways at her, lips drawn into a thin line and eyebrows pinched. But he was not scowling, so she took that as a sign of his good mood, and continued. "So come on, out with it."

"I have nothing to say, Lass."

"Yes, you do."

"Fine. I do, but I don't want to ruin a happy occasion," Dwalin finally said, surprising her with the deep care in his voice.

Emelia narrowed her eyes. "Please just say it, so I can listen and then promptly ignore it."

"At least you're honest."

"I am. And I would appreciate it, if you would do the same."

"Fine. I think you're both too young to make this kind of decision. It think Thorin will be furious, which might actually be part of why Kili is so keen to do this. I think you don't understand how serious a commitment like this is for a dwarf. And I think Kili loves you enough for none of that to matter."

"Marriage is a big commitment for everyone," Emelia started, only to be cut off by a sound from the back of his throat. "What? What am I missing?"

"It isn't just the marriage, Emelia. It is everything that it means." They started up the hill towards Bilbo's house, walking closer than before despite the borderline tense words being passed between them. "Dwarves do no fall in love often, some never at all. Kili seems convinced that you're the only one who he is meant to be with and love. It's a nice idea and he might very well be right, but none of that means anything when you'll inevitably die before he even reaches middle age."

"I assumed I would die before him, considering he's in his seventies and I'm very much not. I might be selfish to still think it's worth it and he might be borderline masochistic to be okay with this arrangement, but neither of us are dumb and neither of us are going into this without a full understanding of what it means," Emelia said, finally pulling her arm back from him. She stepped out in front of him, stopping him in place. The incline of the path allowed her to be at eye level with him. So she stared him down. "And as far as Thorin is concerned, he can fuck right off. I know he's your friend and I know how much you and Balin were dedicated to him, but I really could not give less of shit about what he thinks. Me and Kili are our own thing and I don't care one fig about what others thing of it. We're and island and I'm not going to let Thorin's shit much it all up."

To her great shock, instead of glaring at her, Dwalin's face cracked into a large grin.

"What? I thought you'd be mad. You know, disrespecting the king and your bestie and all that jazz."

"He deserves it."

"Careful Dwalin, he is your king." She smirked.

"We can keep that little bit between us."

"I appreciate the concern, you know. I know that these sorts of heart to hearts are a bit like pulling teeth for you."

"It was something Balin was more comfortable with," Dwalin said, a sadness peppering his words that made her chest clench. She couldn't understand the pain that could come from a sibling relationship that spanned centuries, what sort of love that must have been, but she could understand what it was like to lose them. For most people, she would offer up kind words and perhaps a lingering hug. But Dwalin was not most people. So all she did was reach her hand forward and touch his arm, giving it a quick squeeze.

"So, now that we have this settled, can I count on you to be my flower girl?"

Dwalin did not dignify that with a response.

Emelia thought she was going to throw up. Every nerve ending was frazzled, every bit of skin hot, every one of her fingers and toes shaking like a leaf. But the feelings were good and right and she wouldn't trade them for the world. She would, however, trade the fact that her lower back was sweating like crazy for just about anything.

Bilbo stood next to her, dressed in his summer finest and sweating just as much as she was.

The sun was out, bright and painting everything in a warm glow. It was beautiful, idyllic really, and quintessential to the perfect Shire wedding, but it was hot as hell and the silk of her dress was just about as unforgiving as she could possibly imagine.

"Are we ready?" Bilbo asked, pulling out a handkerchief to blot his brow with.

"I think so," Emelia said, starting to pace. She was barefoot, but that did nothing to lessen the heat blooming underneath the dress. "Maybe not. I'm just so hot." She started to fan her face, worried that the sweat would melt off what little makeup she had applied that morning. Even her hair, unruly rat's nest that it was, had been wrangled into submission. But that all was threatened with just a little bit of heat and some uncooperative humidity.

"That's only likely to get worse the longer we wait," Bilbo said, holding out the handkerchief for her to take.

"I suppose you're right."

"Unless you want to do a runner." Bilbo smiled at her, face red from heat.

She shook her head, very much not of the mind to do a runner. For one thing, it was too bloody hot. For another, she was too restricted by her fine dress and bare feet to make it very far. And, as much as she always admired Julia Roberts, she wasn't trying to emulate her. So she took the cloth from Bilbo and wiped off what moisture she could from her face and made peace with the fact that she was going to get married with under boob sweat.

Hobbit ceremonies were quite simple but no less beautiful. The aisle was wide, flanked on either side with warm oak benches. She managed to find enough hobbits that liked her well enough to show up, so they were full to the brim with smiling acquaintances. They brought food with them, as was tradition, as well as small slips of ribbon to give to the person performing the ceremony. In this case, Bilbo.

When she asked him, he blustered and flustered his way through all the reasons why he was a terrible pick.

It fell on deaf ears, of course, and he agreed only after she explained how much it would mean to her.

"You're sure?" Bilbo asked one last time, taking the handkerchief back.

"Absolutely."

"Then, I think we best get cracking on then."

She nodded, feeling her hands start to shake again.

Bilbo leaned forward and placed a swift kiss to her cheek, the gesture filled with so much love and affection she thought she might burst into tears right then and there. He stepped back and nodded his head, tucking his hands into the pockets of his waistcoat as he turned the corner and disappeared down the aisle and towards the altar.

The altar that Kili was waiting for her at.

She wished she kept the handkerchief at that moment, but Kili would just have to put up with the fact that they were getting married while sopping wet.

Doing one last final check, during which she compulsively smoothed down her dress about a hundred times, she straightened her shoulders and picked up her bouquet of summer daisies.

She followed the path Bilbo had just walked on, body shaking less and less with each step she took. When she stepped onto the aisle for the first time, her nerves were quickly replaced with confidence.

She wasn't sweating, she was glistening.

She was glowing.

She was beautiful.

And she truly believed it about herself for perhaps the first time in what felt like years.

Her confidence seemed to explode when she saw Kili standing underneath the flower arch, dressed in her favorite shade of blue and looking at her like she was the only thing in the world. At the moment she felt like they were. Even with all the watchful eyes and polite delight, even with Bilbo and Fili and Dwalin well within her eyesight, all she saw was him.

Emelia had to remind herself to keep a normal human pace down the aisle as she walked towards him.

It was a bit of blur until she was standing in front of him and she felt him reach out and take her hands in his.

They didn't exchange vows, or rings, although she did slip the silver ring she got for him into his hand while they were standing up in front of everyone. Instead, their hands were bound together with the slips of ribbon their guests brought. Wrapped, over and under, left to right, their hands were joined together tightly until they wouldn't be able to pull them back even if they tried.

It was that simple.

A tightly bound ribbon and they were married.

Emelia smiled up at Kili as Bilbo finished securing the ribbon. Kili leaned forward and kissed her, free hand attaching to her hip as he pulled her closer to him.

Calling Kili her husband felt comfortable in her mind, but even more so when said out loud. She spoke the word against his lips, over and over like a mantra, until they finally pulled back from each other and took each other in in full. He still looked the same, perhaps more handsome, still felt the same in her arms, but there was something about the way gravity shifted in that moment that let her know she made the right decision.

She had made, and would likely make, bad decisions for the rest of her life.

But this one decision, this one perfect thing, she would never regret as long as she lived.

Kili son of Mirwi was her husband.

Her husband.

It felt so fucking good to say the words.

So she said them again. And again. And again as he pulled her close. She tucked herself beneath his chin and took a deep breath, relishing in the moment and committing it to memory. "I love you," She whispered, content to keep living on their little island for just a moment longer.

"I love you too. You stay, I stay," He started, chest vibrating with the words.

"You go, I go," She finished. "It's how it works now."

"It's how it works now," He agreed, finishing their own little vows. They had said it to each other enough times that the meaning in the words was almost too much for her heart to handle and process. But she didn't need to process. All she needed to do was enjoy the moment, to sink into the warmth of her husband's arms, and focus on how much she loved him more than literally anything else in the world.

The others were at the Green Dragon, as requested, and Emelia could not have been more mortified even if she tried. It wasn't as if I was a secret as to why they wanted alone time.

They stepped inside the dark entry way and closed the door behind them, plunging them into darkness. The lingered in the entryway for a moment, the sound of their breathing the only thing to break the pervasive silence of the empty hobbit hole, before she felt Kili's arms wrap around her hips and spin her around.

She stumbled backwards until her back met the curved wall, although she hardly noticed with the way Kili was kissing her with such enthusiasm.

Her legs snaked around his waist as he pulled her away from the wall.

Emelia felt his hands on the delicate ties on the back of her dress, fingers pulling just enough to loosen them but not enough to actually start the process of taking off her clothes. Her own hands, shaking not from nerves but excitement, pulled at the ties of his shirt. She made enough progress to reveal just a bit of skin. She pulled back from his mouth and bent down, kissing the skin of his collarbone.

She delighted in his moan.

The night was cool and crisp, drying their sweat as the wedding partied well through the evening and into the early hours of night. But she hotter now, roasting really, and wanted nothing more than to rip off her dress and let her skin breathe.

Kili lifted her up just a bit higher and readjusted his grip as he started to walk down the long hallway to her bedroom.

It was a bumbling and fumbling way to get there, complete with them running into several of Bilbo's knickknacks and promptly bursting into a fit of giggles.

He kicked open her door and dropped her on the bed, not bothering to turn around and close the door behind him. He was too preoccupied with the fastenings of her dress. The silk ties gave him fits and she couldn't help but laugh at his frustration.

"Let me," She said, pushing him back so she could stand up from the bed. They changed places, him sitting back and her standing in front of him. He fingers shook, but she was able to hide them behind her back as she slowly pulled the ties of her dress. The cool air in her room flushed her skin, causing little goosebumps to form as she slowly slid the dress down and off her body.

Her shift was hardly anything remarkable to look at, but from the way he stared, she might as well have been naked.

Emelia moved to take it off next, only to be stopped by his hands on her sides.

"Em," He started, causing heat to pool in her stomach. His hands moved up her sides, pace so slow it felt deliberately teasing, before he touched the delicate straps of her shift. "You're certain?" There was a vulnerability, a concern for her and what she wanted as well as his own anxiety, in his voice that nearly shattered her heart.

But she didn't need to think.

There was no consideration as far as she was concerned.

A surge of confidence rocketed through her, surprising her with the intensity.

She nodded and leaned forward, kissing him in such a way that she hoped her feelings on the subject were conveyed. On the off chance it was unclear, she pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside, leaving it to get lost in the mess of clothes that littered her floor. She pulled off her shift next and threw it aside as well, almost completely undressed save for the delicate bloomers Florabel gave her.

"Mahal," He breathed, hands all over every inch of skin he could find. His fingers trailed underneath her breast, lingering as the skin practically inflamed.

"Remember when you copped a feel in the mountain?" She asked, hoping to diffuse just a bit of his nerves.

"I did no such thing," He said, fingers moving upwards and causing her to gasp. Kili pulled her back to the bed suddenly, her straddling him as they sank into the soft mattress. It complicated the process of pulling off his pants, but, nerves sufficiently dampened for them both, they made do.

Their little island grew smaller, their breath intertwining as he moved over her and settled between her hips.

She could not say that it was perfectly perfect, but it was perfectly perfect for them and perfectly perfect enough that she would remember and relish in the feeling for the rest of her days. Just a bite of pain followed by nothing but pure, unimaginable bliss. They fell into each other afterwards, limbs tangled and fingers intertwined. All she felt was him, every nerve attuned to him and him alone.

And even when the others came back, raucously drunk and obnoxious, Emelia only felt Kili and their little island.

Their perfect little island, inaccessible to the world. A place for them and them alone. She smiled, running her fingers through his thick hair as she fell into the best sleep she had ever had in her life.

As you all have probably guessed, this story is winding down now. BUT, we still have a few chapters to go! Thank you so much for all the love and support! I know times are rough right now, but I hope this story can bring you the same happiness it's brought me and I hope everyone is staying healthy and happy!