Rider of the Mark

Rider of the Mark 25

Full Moon Over Rohan

***

"No."

"Gamling! You are being ridiculous and hard-headed."

***nonononononono***

"No."

"And obstinate!"

Gamling leaned weakly against the bedpost, feet dangling over the edge of the bed. "No."

"Gamling," Aefre stood in front of him, arms crossed. "Your self-control is admirable, but if you keep this up, you'll get really sick!" She nudged the chamber pot closer with her foot. "I know you need to go.You woke up with quite the impressive battle lance this morning," she winked.

"No."

"Look," Aefre's good humor raced away on the winds, "you have consumed quite a lot of liquids over the last twelve hours and I would rather not have a mess to clean up. I'll help you-"

"Don't Touch It!" Gamling wadded the covers over his lap and glared. "I do not need help!"

"Fine!" Aefre retorted, "Aim it out the window for all I care, oh Great Archer of Rohan!"

Gamling looked over his shoulder towards the window.

***...can't tell which way the wind is blowing. If I aim at the crossbeam, considering the distance...***

"What are you doing?"

"Judging the trajectory. If I aim just so..." Gamling arched the imaginary, suspected path with his finger...

"Don't you dare!"

"You suggested it!"

I think," Aefre's hands were on her hips and the scowl Gamling was so familiar with was planted firmly on her face, "you are the most insufferable, exasperating, difficult-"

"Cretin, hairy lummox, behemoth, warg-riding man you have met!" Gamling was wheezing from exertion...

***... would you leave and give me a moment's privacy...imdyingdyingi... gotta... go... gottagogott...***

"Did I miss anything? Dolt? Bonehead? Béma, woman, I haven't had to have this much help since I was a babe in swaddling clothes!"

"Gamling," Aefre cajoled a bit forcefully, "you have had a substantial, horrific injury-"

"Not so substantial that I need your help so I can take a piss!" Gamling was up to a resounding bellow.

"I don't want you to dribble on my bed!"

As the door was closed, the two were unaware of the growing crowd out in the hall, snickering at the absurd argument going on within the chambers. An outraged roar was heard from the room.

"Am I an old man? Béma... forbid I should... drip on your bed!"

Aefre settled back on one hip, arms still crossed. "All Béma's children have to pee sometime, Gamling!" She cocked an eyebrow. "I can wait."

*** yesyesyesyoucanwaituntilwebringTheodenhomehomeimdying...gottagogogogog...***

Gamling planted both feet on the wood floor and painfully pulled himself up, Aefre looking on in horror.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I, My Lady," he gritted between clenched teeth, "am going to my chambers-"

"Why, that's just ludicrous! You have no clothes and you... you... you couldn't get to the door!" She stepped forward to help him sit back down. "Gam-"

He shoved his finger in her face. "Don't touch it! Don't touch me! Leave me alone!" He was white around the mouth. "You are not my mother, woman! I can take care of myself, without your... hovering!"

Aefre jerked back, shocked at the angry vehemence in his demeanor. She blinked rapidly. It was too late, when Gamling finally realized how deep his words had cut. "You are correct, M'lord Marshal." Her words were a whispered hiss. "Far be it for me to assist you in anything. Obviously, you do not wish my aid or services; I'll find someone else to see to your needs." Before the Horse Lord could call out, Aefre turned on her heel and stormed from the room, paying no heed to the flock of serving women who suddenly paired off, discussing the weather, food, and the cracks in the walls. She stomped through the kitchen, into the herb garden, where Willan was weeding and tying up new shoots.

"That...that... man! That dullard... he... he..." Willan stood up and looked at her cryptically. "He won't use the chamber pot! He's drunk a pitcher of water and two bowls of broth and he won't... he won't... Damn him!" She raked her arm over her nose. "Why must he be so defiant? He acts as if he thinks I want to hold his... his... his... little Horse Lord!"

Willan reached over, brushing the errant tear from her cheek, inspecting the minuscule droplet on the tip of his finger. With a scowl, he handed her the hoe, he pointed to the area where he had left off. The last Aefre saw of him, he was rolling his sleeves up in determination as he walked up to the Golden Hall.

***

Gamling had managed four steps before deciding getting to his chambers on his own was not going to happen anytime soon. He turned and sank back down on the bed, eyeing the chamber pot on the floor.

***Too damn far out stupid womanthing is too smalldid she honestly expect me togointhat in front of her... gottagoooo...***

He reached out with his foot to see if he could nudge it closer.

***gottagodammitdammit...***

He reached out with his other foot to see if he could...

***dammitdammitdammit....just a little bit more...***

The door swung open.

Gamling grabbed the edges of the light quilt and threw it over his lap, ready to lambaste whoever had come into the room-

"Willan! Am I glad to see you!"

Willan set the door shut quietly and looked at the haggard Horse Lord.

He grinned-

"Do you think you could move this..."

- evilly -

"... closer?"

Willan laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles.

*** uh oh... oh noooo...***

"No! Don't even think about it!" Gamling scooted backwards on the bed - all of one hand span,. "I do not need help!" He proceeded to glare down the towering giant. Truth be told, Willan was impressed with the endeavor. He ambled over and looked down at the chamber pot. He knitted his eyebrows together in consternation.

*In this?* He pointed down.

"Yesyesyes, in that little thing!"

***gottagogottagoooooo***

Willan shook his head in disgust and turned to the fireplace. Picking up a poker, he rustled around the ashes looking...

"Willan," Gamling was winded, the labor of his attempted escape thoroughly exhausting him, "could you push this damn bowl closer?"

The mute lifted a single finger. *Wait.*

"A minute? A minute?" Willan picked up the ash bucket and began to shovel the ashes into it. "Willan, I'm dying. I'm in dire... can't you clean the damned fireplace later?"

Willan turned, clearly bemused by the annoyed tone of the Rider. He crossed the small room, kicking the chamber pot away and set the much larger, half - filled ash bucket between the Rider's feet. He crooked his fingers. *Move forward.*

With a grunt of pain, Gamling scooted forward to the edge of the bed, knuckles now as white as his face. "Dammit, I'm still going to dribble on her bed linens!"

Willan reached behind to his waist belt and presented the injured man with three clean drying cloths.

"Béma, bless you!" Gamling grabbed the cloths and began to tuck and drape them in the appropriate places.

***BémablessyoublessyoublessedreliefeI'llnever drinkagainuntilI'mupand walkingonmy owntwofeet...***

Willan had turned his back and was again rustling in the fireplace.

"Thank you." The giant lifted the hand without the poker and curled two fingers, wagging them in and out.

"Yes! I shook! Béma! I'm not a..." Gamling realized Willan's shoulders were shaking with silent mirth. "Oh, very funny! Make fun of the Marshal while you can! You're as bad as she is!" With an excruciating groan, Gamling nudged back slowly on the bed, wadding the cloths Willan had given him-

***Hah! Not a drop! Okay, maybe one! But still...***

- and attempted to throw them in a corner. Willan turned in time to see the three fluttering gently to the ground.

***Dammit!***

"Dammit! Sorry." The Rider in the bed was grunting with the strain on his injured and stitched side. "Béma, that hurts!" From nowhere, strong arms wrapped around his waist, gently moving him up the bed. Deftly, Willan tilted him, infinitely compassionate fingers, propping him up, making sure no weight rested on his bandaged side.

And sniffed... twice, curling his nose in distaste.

"Thank you, Willan. And yes. I smell like... roses," Gamling snarled. "Damned unmanly!"

The mute dipped his head and proceeded to pick up the discarded cloths, clothing, and a bloodied sheet left over from the previous night. "You can tell Aefre she can return now."

Willan straightened up, looking over his shoulder at Gamling, a scowl on his face. He shook his head sharply.

"No?"

With a single finger, Willan traced a path down his cheek. Gamling sighed.

"I'm sorry I made her cry. But Béma, Willan! She was... hanging over me!" He crossed his arms, sullenly. "I didn't need help..." Willan turned, cocked an eyebrow, casting a glance at the ash bucket.

***Better rephrase that...***

"I didn't need her help." Willan tilted his head. "Béma, Willan! It's damned... embarrassing!" Gamling curled on his uninjured side, his eyes getting heavy. "I'll apologize... when... I see... her..."

Willan shook his head, waiting until the Horse Lord dropped off into a healing sleep, before covering him up and opening the small window to air the room.

However, Gamling didn't see her for lunch; he slept through. Dinner was a blur. In fact, the next four days were a blur.

***The tea is drugged. So is the broth. It has to be. Dammit! Dammit! I'll... I'll have a ... word with ... some.. one... when I wake... up...***

He thought he remembered Haleth coming in, to leave bowls or take discarded dishes. He remembered growling at Willan?... Eadignes?... once, when they changed his bandages and cleaned the wound site... The ash bucket was always set nearby, convenient, with cloths laid within reach. Sometimes, he thought... thought... he saw Aefre leaning over him. Deep in the recesses of his dreams, he heard her; felt her presence, her touch. There were times he dreamed, thoughts jumbled, fond memories perverted...

***Aefre riding a Mumakil, Aefre in Orc armour and skins, hundreds of thousands of Aefres streaming from the Black Gates, all weapons pointed at him... Orc Aefres, Battle Troll Aefres... Aefre in white robes high on the Tower of Isengard, shouting obscenities and cat calls, only to be stabbed in the back by himself - his Rider's cloak saturated with blood...***

Gamling jerked, sat up straight, wide-awake, breath labored, his side on fire...

***Béma!***

He had just finished taking care of necessary business and had moved back -

***...dammit Dammit! Where are my clothes? If I'm going to be naked, I want Aefre in bed with me...***

-under the covers, when the door opened and the grey head of a grizzled old woman peeked in.

"You're up? Good!" She bustled in, a basket of jars and bandages on her arm. "I need to change your wrapping."

"Where's Aefre?"

The woman ignored the question and sat down next to him, pulling at the bandages. "You are very lucky. You were badly wounded and that whore-"

"Eadignes."

She looked at him, perturbed at the interruption. "That woman from the brothel - lift your arm - did a fine job stitching you up. Let's see..." she peered beneath the bandages.

"Where's Aefre?"

"You're healing right along." The old woman sounded forcefully jovial. "Not much redness or swe-"

"Mother, it's good to see you, but I want Aefre."

The woman put the jar of ointment down and looked the Rider unabashedly in the eye. "The argument the two of you had the other morning has been the most talked about topic in years! That good - for - nothing cook couldn't wait to tell me what shenanigans you had been up to! And with a high - ranking Lady! I raised you better than that! I had to tell that old busy body her chickens were burning! Twenty years I've been gone from this busy place and nothing has changed! Cook acting like she owns the place and you being disrespectful! I can't imagine what you have put that poor woman through! Aye, she has sent others with food and ointment and bandages, but she made this-" she shook the jar at him, "has cut your bandages, nosed over the broth and made the healing herbal mixtures to put in it, in your broth, your tea. She checks on you when you sleep; worries over you and had no one but a whore to keep her company as she waited for a fever she knew would come! And bathed you when it did! And how do you repay her?" His mother was now standing up, hands on her hip...

***Oh! Béma! Just like Aefre... I am so doooomed... Béma take me now...***

"...How do you thank her? You holler like a mewling three year old!" She sat back down on the bed with a heavy thud-

***owowowowowowowBémamother!owowowow!***

... a murderous maternal gleam in her eye. "Your father should throw horse shoes from the heavens and conk you on your hairy head! I just might take a shoe from the blacksmith and do it myself!"

Gamling sighed heavily. "Mother, it's been diffi-"

"Here!" She shoved a cup in his hand. "It's caffe - weak, but not drugged. You are going to get your lazy arse from the bed today and start moving around!" Gamling nosed over the cooling liquid.

***weak? It's colored water...***

"Mother, it's been-"

"What's her name?"

***...you know what her name is! I know you! You probably know more about her than I do!***

"Aefre."

"Of the Wold?" She was deep in thought.

"You know her?"

"No... no... " she waved a dismissive hand. "Met her parents once. She was a babe. Tiny thing, big brown eyes. Mother was a demure little thing; father was wild. Your father," she wagged an un-motherly finger in her son's face,

***Argh! Another wagging finger...***

"...said he was insane in battle; had the gentlest hand with horses. We bought a few from him. In fact," She tapped him lightly on the shoulder, "your first horse was from their herd!"

***Wonderful. I forgot she talks more than Aefre...***

"Moth-"

"Lufian's widow?"

"Ye-"

"She's... 38...39 summers?"

"Well, I..."

"Really, Gamling! Don't you know anything about her? Drink up, don't slouch; you're getting soft, laying abed nine days!"

Gamling spewed in his mug, caffe splattering everywhere.

"Nine? It's been four... five..."

"Nine? You were out THREE!" Gamling's mother was now standing, putting ointments and unused bandages back in the basket.

***threethreethreedaysBémeandI complained about...***

"And you yelling about using the chamber pot! I can't imagine what she went through with you for three days! Your sisters never gave me this much trouble, even when I helped them birth their babies!"

Gamling leaned back slowly against the head of the bed, into the pillows. "How are they?"

His mother sighed. She saw the immediate turn around in her son's demeanor. "They are fine. Beornia's eldest boy was given his first colt to break and train last winter. I know he would preen like a certain boy I raised if his favorite uncle came for a few days to give him some pointers... We'll talk about that later." She stopped for a moment deep in thought. "This... Aefre... Do you care for her at all?"

***Care? Care???She's...***

"Yes." It was whispered.

"She's not... well, Gamling. She looks tired, drawn. She doesn't eat and I hear she's not been keeping what little she does eat down the last two days." She went to the door, placed a hand on the latch. "She's staying in your chambers. Maybe, if you can manage to get out of bed, you can talk her into seeing the healer. I'd be careful. That cut was deep, but you've been bound tight." She started to turn the latch, but hesitated. She had her back to the man and he could see she was blinking back tears. "I'm... glad I wasn't called back to Edoras to bury you, to sing you to the arms of Béma, Gamling. So many didn't return home. Many of ours didn't return home." She turned slightly over her shoulder, profile clearly defined. "Go make up with your lady. I have no complaint with her care of you."

Gamling's heard rather than saw her leave.

***Three days... Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Where are my clothes?***

The Marshal did manage to pull himself from the bed; even managed to get around the room a time or two before tiring and having to lie down and rest. By the next morning,
sometime after breakfast, he deduced he had no clothing in the room.

He asked Willan for leggings. The mute shrugged and left with the ash bucket.

He asked his mother when she brought him lunch.

"Ask Aefre"

"Béma! I can't ask Aefre if she isn't here!"

"Go find her."

"Find her? How am I supposed to find her if I have no clothes?"

She looked at him mischievously. "I didn't raise a simpleton, boy! You figure it out!"

Dinner came and went.

No clothes.

The sun went down. Gamling had managed three trips around the room before deciding the only way he was going to find clothing was to go and get it. He didn't feel right going through Aefre's wardrobe - what would she have that fit him anyway?

***what to wear... what to wear...***

Racking his brain, he spied the loose, linen sheet on the bed.

***That'll go around. The sun is down, dinner is over, The Hall should be quiet, there are enough back halls...***

He yanked the sheet from the bed, wincing at the pulling at the stitches in his side. The muscle beneath was knitting; he had been bound so tight at times he could hardly breath and he knew deep down that his side would probably pain him on and off for the rest of his life. He wrapped the short sheet around his midriff, making sure his more... Horse Lordly parts were covered. He grabbed the trailing ends in a wad and tied them securely behind him in a knot. Quietly, he slid the door open, sticking his head out, looking both ways.

***No one. Good.***

The hall loomed long and dark in front of him, wall sconces lit few and far apart. As quietly as possible, he tiptoed out...

***The wall... The wall... would be good... solid...***

... finding the wall and bracing himself. His mind was set, fixed on a single goal...

***Second intersection, turn left. third hall, go left, around the corner.... my chambers, third door on the right... Béma my side's on fire... maybe I can make it...***

Gamling made it to the proper hall, turning left. It galled him at how out of breath he was, how winded, tired...

***Béma, I'm old. Old and decrepit***


He leaned against the wall.

***A minute... that's all I need... a minute...nice wall... sweeeeet wall...***

"Good eve, Marshal. Good to see you up and about." A young tiring woman came from around the corner, a basket of clean linens in her arms. She was smiling too broadly.

"Thank you." Gamling nodded curtly. He waited until she moved on, wondering why she started giggling once she was out of sight. He managed another... four... five... meters...

"Sir!" Haleth came running around a hidden corridor, a huge smile on his face. The youngling came to a crashing halt in front of him. "It's good to see you moving! We've been worried."

"Haleth." Gamling was working hard not to wheeze. "You're here... safe..."

"Aye. Very safe. Thank you, sir."

Gamling's eyes were closed, concentrating hard on the pinpoints of light behind his eyelids and feeling the wood from the wall pressing into the shoulder he was leaning on. "Haleth. You've never... sirred me a day in your life. Don't start now."

"Yes si... Gamling."

Gamling lurched forward a few more steps, firmly focused on the next turn. "At least ... not until you've started your Rider training under my command." He nodded at his friend's son.

And wondered why the boy was giggling when he went on. He made it to the third hall, realized it was really the second hall, backtracked to the proper third-

"Good to see you, Marshal." The chambermaid passed him. "Didn't realize there was a full moon over Rohan tonight."

Another chambermaid, coming from the room coming around him, another basket, this one with dirty linens."Good evening sir. Feeling ...cheeky tonight?"

"Good... uh... well..."

She breezed by him around the corner, snickering...

***Full moon?... cheeky?...***

He shifted, placing his back completely against the wall...

...and felt the coolness of the wall down his bare backside...

***SHITE!!!!***

A trip that under normal circumstances took about five minutes took what felt like an eternity, the respected Marshal slowly backing down the hallway and trying to act as if it was a normal, natural everyday occurrence that a grown man always traipsed about the halls draped in a bed sheet. There were smiles, scandalized glances...

"Oh my SIR! Are you sure you should be out and about dressed as... oh MY!"

"Love the filmy attire sir. It's your color!"

The occasional wolf whistle...

Gamling was exhausted, winded, by the time he could finally see his chambers. Had anyone told him in the months previous how glad he would be to see Grima Wormtongue's rooms, he would have scoffed and told them they had been in Wulfric's finer ales! But the door, its latch gleaming dully in the candlelight, called like a beacon and it was with a great sigh of relief that the man was finally able to open the door and slide in, closing behind him the snickers, the catcalls, the snide jokes-

***I'm going to hear about this for weeks, I know it, I'll never live it down...***

The door clicked behind him, his eyes adjusting to the trickle of moonlight. He could see the outline of someone... her... in his bed, curled on her side, breathing deeply.

***FINALLY! FINALLY! Naked in MY bed!***

Gamling dropped the sheet and limped stiffly to the bed, his side. his body burning with strain on his side. With a sigh of relief, he pulled the covers back and sank on the bed. He could clearly see Aefre's dark hair, tied back in a long braid. Even in sleep, he could see the dark circles under her eyes. She looked pale, unrested.

***So angry over a chamber pot, I couldn't see what was so obvious. She's worked to the bone, probably up too early and to bed too late. And me. Threedamndays***

As he slid beneath the covers, one hand slid beneath the pillows, drawing her in, cradling her close. As she burrowed in, he sank his nose into her hair -

***appleappleapples***

- heard her sigh... "Just Gamling?"

"Yes?"

Aefre stiffened up, her eyes flew open, glittering in the moonlight. "Gam-"

"I-" he shushed her, "am a bonehead, a warg-riding Orc, a dullard, a cretin, a behemoth. I'm insensitive, a bore. You can yell at me; I deserve it. Just please don't leave me, I've already showed my bare arse to every evening chambermaid in Edoras and I don't want to show it to everyone else chasing you down. And don't ask me to use the chamber pot in front of you."

There was a few seconds of silence, Aefre's jaw hanging agape, Gamling holding his breath...

"You are SUCH a man!" She burst out laughing. "I was going to leave the room; I just wanted to help you to the edge of the bed!"

"Béma forbid I should drip." Gamling was trying hard not to laugh; it hurt so.

Aefre was fingering the edge of the bandage on his chest. "I was so scared, so scared, Gamling. Only one other time had I cared for one as badly injured as you... and he... and he..." she had started to-

***Shite! You are such an Orc, you made her cry... ***

"... and you had... nightmares... horrible, screaming nightmares.... and fevers... up and down , they would spike, I didn't sleep and you were sick... and... and... Béma... Gamling, I never thought a man could.... vomit..." He clenched her as closely as possible," ... so much... and you finally wake up and you yelled at me! You yelled at me over the chamber pot!"

"I'm sorry-"

She stifled a heavy sob. "You are the most apologetic Rider I have ever met!"

"So you have said before."

He waited for her to calm down, rubbing the fabric of her sleeping...

***Is this my tunic? What is she doing sleeping in my tunic?***

...between his fingers. "When did my mother arrive?"

Aefre hiccupped once before answering. "Six days ago. I asked Haleth if he knew where your family lived and he gave the directions to Abéodan. He rode out to let her know you lived, but were in Edoras, injured. Last thing I expected was to see her riding up to the city on the back of the biggest brute of a horse I've ever seen!"

"Big black horse? Shaggy mane?" Aefre nodded into his chest. "Insane woman! And at her age!" he hissed.

"She came in, told the cook that her chicken was burning and that she needed to teach someone to peel potatoes right. She told Rheda that the sheets weren't hung right on the line and then ordered Willan to see to her horse, as she didn't think ‘the little stableboy' could handle him!"

***she's right...***

"I don't know who sent her to my rooms, but I'm surprised we didn't wake you with our arguing. She might be your Mother, Gamling, but no one is going to come into my room and tell me how to deal with a sick man! And questions! Béma, she asked me so many questions!"

Gamling's eyelids were getting heavy and he stifled a yawn. "If you must know, she told me she had no misgivings about your care - a great compliment to you. She also said you weren't well and weren't keeping food down." He waited for her to acknowledge his statement. "You have earned some rest, as far as I'm concerned. Tomorrow, let mother run Edoras. You are to sleep in and catch up on rest."

"Gamling!" Aefre turned her back to him and spooned against him, a sensation the Rider decided he liked. "I can't lie abed with you the entire day! People will talk!"

"Let them. I'll show them my bare, naked arse again and they will have something else to talk about!" He kissed the bare spot on her neck. "Don't make me have Willan put sleeping herbs in your tea! Go to sleep."

Unfortunately, Aefre didn't sleep well that night. Gamling awoke with the rising of the sun at the sound of retching.

He opened his eyes to see Aefre kneeling over the chamber pot.

Heaving.

***
tbc
***

A/N

Tracey - I think it has something to do with the length of the chappy title... I'll check into it

Nethien - I'm writing as fast as I can. My other monster-child will update in the next few days as well.

Julia I"m fond of all my OFC's in this one. The Appendixes of TORK under Rohan is very clear - Tolkien states of the brave men and women... Well, Where are they? I've tried to help...

Pandorag and Crye 4 me - Thank you...