91. Chapter 90 - May 1438
“I’m glad we’re not having a Rohirric wedding night,” Pippin said, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t fancy having an audience.” He chuckled.
Ivy snorted and lifted her head to look at him. “They don’t stay for everything,” she chided. “They just have witnesses to make sure it’s the proper two people in the bed together.”
Pippin snorted. “Legolas said it wasn’t always like that. He said when the Rohirrim still lived in the north, that they had to have witnesses for everything. Usually the best men.” He snickered. “Poor Sam. He would have died of embarrassment.”
“I would have, too.” Ivy mumbled. She felt sorry for those ancient brides.
Pippin gave her a squeeze. “Not like you’d have anything to worry about. I don’t think I’d be able to do anything with people watching.” He shuddered and Ivy giggled into his shoulder.
He kissed her brow. “It’s hard to believe out wedding night is finally here,” he said softly.
“Yeah,” she breathed. She looked up at him again, into eyes that looked at her with raw desire, and he kissed her. The kiss started softly, but rapidly deepened. He pulled her closer and his other hand rested on her hip for a moment before traveling up her body. When his thumb brushed her breast, he didn’t flinch and pull away this time, but slid his hand up to cup her, his thumb tracing her nipple through the silk.
Ivy moaned as a tingling spread from her breast to the rest of her body. She moved her hand to his thigh and started to slide it under the edge of his Gondorian coat, but the sudden turn of the cart startled them apart. Ivy looked over the pony’s head. The pony had turned into the road to Crickhollow’s stable.
“Well, we’re here,” Pippin said, breathing a little hard. He leaned down to retrieve the reins he’d dropped. Not that he needed them, because the pony came to a halt all on its own in front of the stable door.
Pippin climbed down from his seat and took the lantern from the cart to hang on the peg near the stable door. Then he turned and took Ivy’s hand to help her down, making sure her dress didn’t catch on anything.
Her knees were a little weak when she stepped down. She felt like she’d been drinking, but neither of them had much to drink at the party. They’d both be completely sober tonight, for Pippin’s sake.
He caressed her cheek and kissed her gently. “You go in,” he said softly. “I need to take care of the pony.”
“All right,” she whispered. She took the other lantern off the cart and made her way up to the house. There were lights in the windows and she wondered who had been up here. Estella and Éowyn had been at the party all day, as had Pippin’s sisters.
She pushed open the door and the first thing she noticed was the smell of flowers. All kinds of flowers. It reminded her of standing in the garden at Bag End. She went into the parlor, filled with a riot of spring colors, and she knew who had been here. The note left on the table confirmed her suspicion. With love from The Gamgees. She smiled. Now she knew why Rosie and some of the children had disappeared from the party for a while. She looked around the room. Sam must have brought half his garden with him to have filled this many jars with blooms. Some of the perennial flowers weren’t cut, but were planted in clay pots. These would be added to her own garden.
Next to the note was a small package, wrapped in cloth and tied with a ribbon. There was a note on that, too, but before she could reach for it, the front door squeaked open.
“The pony is happy and fed,” Pippin said as he walked towards her.
He reached for her, putting his hands on her waist, and she squealed and jumped away. “Your hands are freezing!”
“Oh, sorry,” he said sheepishly, rubbing them together. “I washed up outside and the water was a bit cold.”
“A bit?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“You could warm them up for me,” he said with a grin and reached for her again.
“Oh, no!” she said, giggling and stepping away. But he caught her anyway, pressing his cold hands to her back and cutting off her squeal with a kiss. She tried to tickle his sides, a defense that usually worked, but all she could feel was his hauberk under the Gondorian coat. “No fair,” she pouted, pulling away. “You’re wearing armor.”
“You’re not,” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows. He reached for her sides, but she got away this time and ran across the hall to the bedroom. She came to a halt, staring in astonishment. There were flowers in here, too, but it was candles that filled the room. There were candles everywhere, half-burned down--Estella must have given them to Rosie to light--and the room was filled with their soft glow and the heady scent of warm honey.
Hands slipped around her waist and she turned in Pippin’s arms. He captured her mouth in a deep, plundering kiss that took her breath away. She clutched at his shoulders to steady herself and pushed her body against his...armor. She broke the kiss and looked in his eyes. “How about we get this off you?” she asked, plucking at the chain sleeve.
He nodded. “Probably a good idea.” He reached down for his belt, but she stopped his hands.
“I’ll do it,” she said, holding his gaze though she suddenly felt shy and nervous. Her mother had told her that men liked to have their uniforms removed by their wives. Éowyn and Estella had given her the traditional ‘talk’ yesterday, explicitly explaining things she should know. It was even more embarrassing than the general advice they’d given her in Rohan, but Ivy had fought her embarassment and paid attention. She’d even asked questions this time. She wanted to do everything right for Pippin.
She unhooked the belt and lay it on the floor, careful of the attached sword. Pippin had put on his new sword after the ceremony, and had proudly shown it off to anyone who asked to see it. She (and Gimli, too) had been very happy he liked it.
The coat was next and quickly removed. Then the hauberk. Her fingers were shaking a little now, as she worked at the ties down the leather chest. Once opened, Pippin shrugged it off. They both giggled nervously when the chain sleeves hit the floor with a loud ‘clunk’.
She rested her hands on his chest. His linen shirt was a little damp--it was warm under that uniform--but not soaked like it had been their first time. She stared at the row of buttons. She’d never seen him without clothes before. They’d stayed clothed their first time.
He touched her cheek. “All right?” he asked.
She realized she was breathing a little hard now as she stared at him. She nodded and smiled. “Just... nervous,” she said. Her cheeks grew warm and she bowed her head. How could she be this nervous?
He rested his hands over hers. “I can finish this,” he said, and moved his hands to the top button.
She shook her head. “No. I want to do it.” She plucked up her courage and pushed her fingers under his to open the button. At least her fingers still worked, nervous as they were, and in no time his shirt was open. She touched him, drawing a finger over bare skin sprinkled with light-colored hairs, over his chest and down his belly. Under his navel, the hairs got darker and thicker. She rested her fingers on the edge of his breeches and swallowed nervously.
“Let me help,” he said gently.
Ivy looked up at him. He smiled at her and touched her hands. She smiled back, almost a grimace. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. We have done this before.”
He chuckled and reached up to touch her cheek. “Not really. Not like this.” He kissed her, softly, then moved his mouth over her cheek in a string of kisses to her ear. “We haven’t done it like this. It’s not just sex this time.” He nuzzled at her ear. “I’m nervous, too. I’ve never done it like this before, either.” He sighed.
“I know,” she whispered back. She didn’t want to think about what he had to go through to get Fari. She wanted to make him forget what he’d been put through. She kissed his cheek and moved her fingers to the top button of his breeches. She could feel him, hard and straining against the wool, and it made her ache between her legs.
It took two tugs to get the first button open, but the second came easily, as did the third, and the fourth, and then his erection was brushing her hand and it made both of them gasp. They looked in each other’s eyes and Pippin’s were dark now, full of desire. She turned her hand to grasp him.
He sucked in his breath and his eyes fluttered closed. “I want you so much,” he breathed and then he was kissing her again, one arm pulling her close while the other hand pushed at his breeches. She felt them hit her feet. He kicked them aside and now both his arms were around her, running up and down her back. Then he stopped and pulled away to look at her, a little flushed and frustrated. “Erm... how do I get this off you?”
She giggled. She’d forgotten about the Elven dress. “Reach inside the top. There’s a cord.”
He reached inside the dress, between her shoulders. “This?” he asked.
She nodded. “Now pull,” she said.
He pulled the cord and the intricate lacing that had taken both Éowyn and Estella working together to accomplish came undone. She stepped back and shimmied a little to let the dress fall to the floor. Pippin was gaping at her, the cord still in his hand.
“It’s Elvish,” she explained. She grinned. “Even in the heat of passion, they’re still graceful.” Then she realized she was standing naked in front of him and he was still gaping at her. She blushed. She’d forgotten he was naked, too. She smiled. Éowyn was right. It did look like a spear.
Pippin raised an eyebrow at her. “Something funny?”
She shook her head, trying not to giggle. “No. It’s just--” The giggle escaped anyway. “Did you know that in Rohan, they call it a wæpen?”
He looked down, cocked his head slightly, then looked back up at her. “My mighty sword?” he asked playfully.
Ivy burst with laughter, clapping her hands over her mouth. Pippin grinned at her, then stepped close again. She dropped her hands, still giggling. He took her hand in his. “Perhaps we should find somewhere to sheathe my sword?” he asked. She gasped a little, cutting off her giggles. Her heart started pounding again and the intensity of his gaze took her breath away. He tugged on her hand and led her around to the side of the bed.
He turned to face her and the intensity in his eyes disappeared, replaced again by a hint of worry as they both made nervous glances at the bed. She wondered if Pippin was thinking the same thing as she: What was the least awkward way to get from here to there?
“We’re being nervous again,” he said.
Ivy took a deep breath--might as well take the initiative--and bent over to turn back the blankets. She jumped a little, and nearly toppled over when, his hand rested on her bare bottom. She looked at him over her shoulder. The desire was back in his gaze. He caressed her and slid his hand down so that his fingers just brushed the furrow between her legs. She gave a small moan in her throat, her whole body tightening at his touch.
He leaned over and kissed her hip, then straightened and took his hand away. “I think I’m distracting you,” he said. He winked.
“Yes, you are,” she breathed. She turned back to the bed, pulled back the blankets, and got in. She rolled over on her back in the center of the bed and looked up at him coyly. “But I like being distracted.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, then quickly joined her, sliding close and rolling over so that he was half on her, pushing a leg between hers. “I think I can distract you some more,” he said, and he kissed her. His hands were on her again, sliding up her body to caress her breast. She felt him hard against her belly and she thrust her hips into him. She wanted him so much. She tried to pull him over, so that he was fully on top of her, but he shook his head. “No. Not so fast,” he whispered. He pushed himself up, then dipped his head to kiss her breast, his tongue flicking out to tease at her nipple.
“Pippin!” she gasped, and arched her back, her hands clawing at the bed.
He looked up, grinning at her. “You like that?”
“Yes!” It was almost a sob. She had never felt anything like it. And she wanted more of it.
He chuckled and slid over, pushing his knees between her legs so that he was kneeling between her thighs. She pulled her knees up, wondering if he’d given up on the ‘not so fast’, but he just leaned over, resting on his elbows, and turned his attention back to her breasts.
She threaded her fingers into his hair, arching her back again as he ran his tongue over her--first one breast, then the other--while his fingers teased the opposite nipple. She watched him, her fingers running through his hair and around his ear, while he tasted and caressed her. Then he moved back a little, so he could kiss her belly--light kisses with flicks of tongue. She shuddered, the ache for him getting more intense. “I love you,” she moaned.
He kissed his way around her belly, stopping to dip his tongue in her navel, then paused and pushed himself up, so he was kneeling again, his hands resting on her raised knees. But he didn’t do anything. He was just looking at her. She reached for him. “No, Pippin. Don’t stop.”
He took her hands and kissed them. “I just want to look at you, love,” he said softly.
She smiled and let her arms fall open, so he could look at her. She could almost feel his eyes sliding over her skin. Then his gaze met hers.
“I love you,” he whispered, nearly a sob. She reached for him again and he didn’t refuse this time. “I love you,” he said again, nuzzling against her ear when he settled on top of her. She could feel his erection between her legs and she sighed, gasping when he pushed inside.
He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes a little glazed. “All right?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed, and thrust her hips to prove it.
He held her gaze as he began to move and she lost herself in green eyes and the rhythm of his body. And when his movement quickened, his breath ragged, she held him tight as he shuddered and cried out her name. She held him after, feeling the pounding of his heart, just like their first time. But this time there were no sobs, no regrets. When he looked in her eyes, he was smiling. “Worth the wait?” he asked breathlessly.
She smiled and touched his cheek. “I think so,” she said, and grinned at him. “But perhaps we should do it some more, just to make sure?”
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.