Rider of the Mark

Rider of the Mark 32

A turning of the tables


***

Aefre awoke late the next morning, the sun shining brightly. Her face felt tight, swollen, and she had a headache. She rolled over with a groan.

“Good morning.”

Aefre squinted, looking at the hazy shadow that stood in the light of the opened window.

“Gamling?”

“What?” He settled next to her on the bed and stretched out beside her.

Aefre arched her back, feeling the vertebrae pop. “You’re up before me?”

“You think I cannot rise early?”

Aefre wanted to smack the smug look off his face. “It is not your normal habit.” Instead, she placed a hand on his chest, her fingers rubbing the neckline of the material between them. “You’re dressed, as well.” She looked up, scowling. “Who are you, and what have you done with the Rider I love?”

A rare chuckle escaped from Gamling’s throat. “I’m Grunt, the Mountain Man in disguise.” The grin fell from his face, however, and he pulled the sheet up to her neck. “Ah, Aefre, you had a difficult night last night and didn’t sleep well.” He wouldn’t admit that her restlessness had kept him up as well. “Between... well, with everything, I want you to rest today-”

“Rest?” Aefre tried to sit up, but the Horse Lord threw a heavy leg over her. “I have things to do, the Hall to run. We have a wedding to plan, who knows when Éomer King and the Elven company will arri- - -”

He shushed her with a deep kiss. “My mother can and is running the Hall today. She has done it before and did it with alarming efficiency. You are to rest; the chambermaids have been ordered to ignore you today.”

“What?” He felt her stiffen up. “You ordered them to what? ”

“Ignore you.” His eyes drifted in thought. “Except food. If you want food, they can bring it.”

Aefre gasped angrily. “You... you... troll, you dimwit, you... you... you...oaf-”

Gamling rolled over her, to settle between her legs. He canvassed her face and neck with kisses. “You are making me very horny.” Before he could go much further, there was a knock at the door. “Ah, fair lady,” he grinned, “you have been rescued!” He continued to roll to the edge of the bed and stood up. Unbarring the door, he slung it open and stepped aside to allow his mother to walk in.

She looked from her son, to her future daughter - in - law. “I interrupted.”

Gamling nodded, much too jovially to suit Aefre. He was up to something.

Aelwydd narrowed her eyes. “Good.” She was carrying a tray and she set it on the small table. “The Hall is talking, you know.”

Gamling sat down to put on his work boots. “Don’t care. There will be Elves here in a few weeks and they will talk about that.” In the distance, a bell began to clang and what frivolity danced on Gamling’s features quickly dissipated. “Another Rider bearing bad news, I’m sure. You,” he pointed at his mother, “make sure she rests. You-” he pointed at Aefre, “stay in bed and do what she tells you.” Quickly, he made his way over to Aefre and kissed her. “Please. For me.” Before she could make one squeak of protest, he had left the room, closing the door behind him.

Aelwydd was shaking her head. “I swear, that boy of mine-”

“Are they really talking?” Aefre questioned. “I’ll move my clothes back to my chambers-”

“No!” Aelwydd was shaking her head and waved the younger woman off. “They aren’t talking! They could care less! Gamling could take you up against a wall and they wouldn’t notice. He’s happy, they are happy; life goes on. They are too busy trying to gather supplies for the Westenmet.”

Aefre threw her feet over the side of the bed. “Well, then-”

A firm grip had her by the knees. “And where do you think you are going?” Aelwydd swung her back and threw the covers back over her. “You heard him! You are not going anywhere. Gamling was in the kitchens disgustingly early and informed all within earshot you had had enough and you were to rest today. And rest you shall!” She turned and retrieved the tray and set it on Aefre’s lap. “I swear, he’s obstinate! I have no idea where he gets it from!”

Aefre picked up the hot tea and blew across the rim. “I have an idea,” she murmured into the steam.

“Well, keep it to yourself.” Aelwydd pulled a chair up next to the bed and propped up on her elbows. “When you finish that, I have a compress for your face.”

“Really, I-”

“You look a fright! Small wonder Gamling’s worried.” She pointed to the food on the tray. “You are still having problems with heavier food?”

Aefre looked around her cup of tea and eyed the dish in front of her with distaste. “Aye, and I’m sick of fruit and plain vegetables.” Setting the cup down, she picked up the toasted bread, twisting it in the light as if to get a better view of it. “And this; dried, stale, bread.” She dropped it back on the platter. “Is this normal?”

“Normal?” Aelwydd straightened out the wrinkles in the bedclothes. “When one is pregnant, everything is normal and everything is not.” She tucked the last corner and whispered, “Gamling told me about your friend, Ceneden. I’m truly sorry.”

Aefre’s breath hitched and she angrily brushed an errant tear from her cheek. “Ceneden was a good man. He was born in my Da’s household and moved to Lufian’s when it became apparent that he had potential in a garrison. Sometimes I think Da sent him so he would have a second set of eyes and ears there when it became obvious I would wed Lufian.” She picked up the bread and began to nibble.

Aelwydd watched her for a few moments. “Gamling won’t ask, but I will. Had he been your lover?”

Aefre choked at the woman’s forthrightness and her gall. “Aelwydd! I don’t believe that-”

“That it’s my business or it’s proper for me to ask? But I did.” The elderly woman had not taken her chin from the cup of her hand. “I didn’t ask to be rude or nosy. I just...” she finally rose up and leaned back in the chair, assessing Aefre with a keen eye, “Gamling said you were distraught when he told you. You cried yourself to sleep and you’ve woken with red, swollen eyes and probably a headache.” She dusted the air towards Aefre’s teacup. “Finish the tea. Willan put willow bark in it to soothe you.” She waited until Aefre had done so, staring balefully at the old woman over her cup. “It worried Gamling to see you in such a state. One wonders if you became so upset while he was gone. According to the chambermaids, you were a paragon of strength.”

“They didn’t see me in the privacy of my room,” Aefre spat angrily. “Ask Willan. He drugged my tea a few times to force me to rest and calm down.” She finished the toast and began on an apple slice. “Ceneden was like an older brother to me. Nothing more.” She finished with the apple and licked the syrup from her fingers, “I loved him dearly, but not in that way.”

“So, you tried, but nothing came of it?”

Aefre glared at the woman from the side. “You are as bad a busybody as the cook.”

Aelwydd shrugged. “Who do you think taught her?”

That brought a smile to Aefre’s face. “I’m not surprised.” She sent a mock glare towards the woman before turning to stare out the window. “He was my friend. That’s all. He was dependable, comfortable.” Aelwydd noticed her plucking nervously at the light quilt. “The best thing he ever did for me was to suggest that I write Théoden and then bringing me here.” At this, she turned and looked her future mother - in - law in the eye. “I wouldn’t have met Gamling. Instead, I would have stayed in my grandmother’s run - down home. Had I married him, it would have been out of solace and we would have hated each other in the end.”

Aelwydd nodded once. “It doesn’t matter. Wouldn’t matter to him. If you forgave him the whore-”

“I don’t think about it. I work hard not to think about it.” Aefre’s voice was curt. “It would do us all well if you wouldn’t throw it in my face. I do not throw Lufian in yours. I wish it didn’t bother him. I’ll not deny him one second of comfort he sought before me.”

Aelwydd’s gaze was scrutinizing, her stare measuring the woman in the bed. “Nor would he have denied you.” She patted Aefre on the thigh. “I said it once; he might not be the most romantic Rider in the Riddermark, but I don’t think you’ll do better. Well, Éomer, maybe,” she shrugged good - naturedly, “but then again, that one will need a lot of taming.”

“He’s too young.”

“Pshaw!” She lifted the tray from Aefre’s lap. “If I were ten... twenty summers younger, I’d teach that one a position or two!” She continued over Aefre’s gasp. “And he’d like it!”

Aefre’s laughter finally spilled out like a waterfall. “You are incorrigible, Mistress Aelwydd! I believe there is a lot more of you in Gamling than either of you care to admit!”

Aelwydd’s smile slowly dimmed. “Nay. He has my eyes. That’s all. Otherwise, he is his Da - his father’s son, through and through, in looks, build, and temperament.” She set the emptied tray down quietly. “Béma, I miss the man. Miss him as I would miss my very breath.”

It was quiet, the older woman reflecting in the past.

“How long?”

Aefre pulled her knees up and tucked them under her chin. Béma only knew she wouldn’t be able to do that much longer. “Eleven summers come this summer.” She sighed deeply.

“That is a long time to miss someone.” Aelwydd nodded in agreement, her eyes downcast. “Have you ever thought of re-marrying?”

“What?” Gamling’s mother spun, aghast at such a sentiment. “And have another man to clean up after? Absolutely not!” She squinted, a silly thing coming from her. Aelwydd shook herself once, hard, as if to shake off an unbidden memory. “Now, you lie back down. Gamling said rest, and rest, you’re going to do it!”

“I can’t stay here all day.”

“I know you can’t.” She lifted a small bowl and stood next to her. “Lie down and back. And close your eyes.” Aefre did so and felt something cool laid against her eyes. “ ‘Tis cucumbers. Will help the swelling. And I’ve dipped a cloth in witch hazel water.” She laid the wet material across Aefre’s eyes and face. “You just lie here for a while and rest some. I’ll come back in a while and we’ll see where we can sneak you off to.”

When she came back a few minutes later, Aefre was asleep.

***

The days that followed jumbled together. Riders were returning - returning from Gondor, returning from parts spread out, sent by Gamling to assess the state of the countryside. Maps of Rohan were spread out, Gamling making note of everything.

“Burnt. Razed. Few survivors. No cattle. Little cattle. No trees. No trees. No trees.”

The noise in the Golden Hall was punctuated with the bickering of Helgarda and Eadignes.

“Stop walking so fast! I can’t keep up!”

“I swear, you’re slower than constipation with hemorrhoids, old biddy!”

“Girl! Don’t gainsay me-”

“I’ll gainsay you, you old bat! Today, you tell me it’s comfrey. Yesterday, you told me it was balsam. Make up your mind!”

“You are confused! If you would listen-”

“I am listening! You don’t shut up! No wonder your husband can’t get a word in edgewise! You are confusing me on purpose!”

“No, I am testing you!” Pause. “Slow! Down!”

“I’m just going to get the wheelbarrow and put you in with the turnips!”

*** Ah, *** Gamling mused to himself, *** sounds like home. ***

The day after he had forced Aefre to stay in bed, he caught her in the stable that afternoon, saddling Adenydd for a ride.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Aefre was wearing breeches and one of Gamling’s old tunics.

***dammitdammit she looks better in it than I did...***

“I am going for a ride.”

He put a restraining hand on her mare’s halter. “Are you quite certain?”

She picked up his -

***Mine? Mine? My saddlebags? Is this what happens when you get married, what’s mine is hers? What is she-***

-saddlebags and slung them across her saddle. “Yes, I am quite certain. I’ve not been for a ride in ages. I need to get out and get some air - don’t interrupt, even your mother said so - and Adenydd needs the exercise! Béma knows how much longer I’m going to be able to ride, as well as she!”

His grip tightened on the bridle, as Aefre checked the girth of her saddle. “You are not going anywhere without an escort, My Lady.” He had returned to the possessive use of ‘my’ and he saw her smirk and color.

“In that,” she smiled, saucily, “I am not. I suggest you saddle your horse, or I will be forced to ask Abéodan to ride with me and share my meal of roast beef and mustard and the two skins of wine.”

“Mustard?” Gamling’s eyes narrowed. “Spicy?”

“I believe so.”

Gamling didn’t hesitate. “Haleth?”

“It’s done, sir.”

Gamling looked into Dréogan’s stall, to see the stallion saddled, his bridle and bit in place. “He let you? How did you-”

Haleth stood next to the warhorse, pointing to the apple slobbers in the shavings. “He’s pretty docile, if you continuously feed them to him,” the boy whispered with a still child-like giggle.


Gamling nodded the young squire off, sending him ahead to clear the road to the gate and lead his stallion into the main hallway of the stable. “Whore,” he whispered in the horse’s ear.

Dréogan nipped the Horse Lord none too harshly on the shoulder. Aefre was leading Adenydd out and despite her protestations, Gamling gave her a hand up. They carefully picked their way to the front gates, before slowly going down the hill to the plain that surrounded Edoras.

“Where to?” Adenydd was straining, excited to be out, as was Dréogan, both horses giving their riders a difficult time. Aefre was worried about Gamling, his injury still healing. By the same token, Gamling was worried about Aefre, the pregnancy, but she looked more rested than she had since he returned and wore a huge smile. “Where to?” she repeated.

“Glade is too far.”

“Not if we ride hard.”

“No.” Gamling was firm. “I can’t and I don’t want you to.”

“You old meanie.” It was muttered, not meant for him to hear, but her words carried on the wind.

His scar itched and he scratched it absent-mindedly. “I haven’t been called that since my youngest sister, Sulis, was five summers.”

Aefre leaned over her pommel, a rather tart smirk on her face. “I bet you were, too!”

Gamling shrugged and squirmed under her jocund scrutiny. “Uhm... well... yes...” He grimaced and changed the subject. “There is an outcrop of rocks with a few shady bushes over the rise. How about there?”

“That’ll be fine. I’ll race you!”

“When Mearas fly!”

Adenydd was swishing her tail, anxious to be at a dead run, fighting and pulling at her bit. A lesser horsewoman would have lost control long ago, but Aefre was Rohirrim to the bone and kept her mare on a tight rein. Truth was, Dréogan wasn’t behaving either and Gamling knew he was in for a tough ride. They ended up agreeing on a slow gallop to the outcrop a quarter of an hour away.

Food was spread out; no one would have believed the giggles and chuckles over nothing coming from the shade of the rock. Too much wine was drunk and she challenged him to a belching contest.

And won.

***Béma I’ve been out belched by a woman! I’ll never live it down...***

Gamling eventually convinced himself he had gone easy on her, as who would have thought a lady could... emit such disreputable noises?

***How unladylike! She obviously cheated!***

Giggles and snorts eventually eased into a comfortable silence. Even from their throne on the ground, they could easily see Rohan spread out before them, fields of wheat and grain starting to reach maturity.

“It’s not going to be enough, is it?” Aefre asked quietly. “We aren’t going to be able to harvest or send enough food for the rest of the Riddermark.”

“No.” Gamling’s swallow was painful, audible, and he struggled to say what was on his mind. “There’s ... nothing. The refugees had it better on the hill in make-shift tents than those who stayed behind.”

“What are we going to do? I-”

Gamling pulled Aefre close, pulling her into his chest. “Éomer will be here soon, he has to be. Aragorn expects his bride by mid-summer. When the King arrives with the Elves, hopefully they will know what to do.”

***One hopes...***

It was quiet for a time, the two enjoying the breeze and watching the setting of the sun. They decided to exchange their pledges of faith at the glade, where they had shared that first kiss. They would need witnesses-

“Gamling! Why did you cringe when I mentioned your sisters witnessing our bonding?”

***talktalktalktalktalktalkmagpieschatterchattertalktalkta-***

“I can’t explain it.” The Rider squeezed her reassuringly. “You’ll see.”

Eventually, they made their way back, the sun setting at their backs. They rubbed down the horses, who still thought they had not had enough exercise, fed and watered them, making sure they had enough hay for the evening. Dinner was being served, but they weren’t hungry, except for each other. Eadignes and Helgarda had stopped arguing for the evening, but by the mutinous looks in each other’s eyes, it would start up again fresh the next morning.

Gamling noticed Fugol, Fyren’s eldest son, eyeing Eadignes with something akin to distaste. He made a mental note to mention it to Willan, so he could watch as well. Two more Riders came in from the south, filthy, exhausted and not bearing good news.

***Éomer, you need to come home. Your people need you, desperately.***

The days flew by quickly. If anyone thought anything of Aefre sleeping a little late, disappearing for an hour or two in the middle of the day to her and Gamling’s chambers, retiring early at night, most thought it was due to the vigorous attentions of her husband - to - be. The returning Riders were determined to replenish not only their horses and cattle, but those of the Rohirrim population as well. As predicted, many brought home Gondorian brides, but numerous men of Gondor migrated as well, wanting to see this land, these horses only the Horse Lords could breed and tame. That they were enamored and mesmerized by the women of Rohan - that was only meant to be. The Wailing of Rohan’s loss would be replaced by the Wailing of Rohan’s babies soon enough.

Gamling suffered fittings for new clothes, his wedding cloak. He was prodded, pricked, stuck, pestered, and all the growling and scowling and fierce Marshal looks got him nowhere with the seamstress, his mother and his bride - to - be.

He threatened to show up at his wedding in his underclothes and boots.

That got him smacked.

Twice.

His men thought it funny.

He worked their arses the next three days.

They thought it was worth it.

A week before the wedding, the rest of Gamling’s family arrived.

Aefre realized within minutes why he cringed at the thought of his family being anywhere within miles.

Four sisters.

Who were never quiet.

They arrived with their horses, their children, their husbands. Mayda’s husband had a pronounced limp, received, he stated proudly, at the Black Gates. He had been hit by falling boulders when the gates fell. Beornia, the elder of Gamling’s sisters, had a dark, haunted look. Her smile was forced, didn’t reach her eyes, and when Aefre reached out to embrace her, she realized the woman wore a scratched and scarred mark with a frayed cord around her neck.

The others chattered non-stop about everything. The wedding, the food, who was she, how long has she known Gamling, what wine had she given him to coerce him into matrimony, had she threatened him, had she blackmailed him, what had he done so she could blackmail him, how long had she been married before, why had she come to Edoras, did she ride, where was her horse, had she... had she had she had she...

That night, Aefre sat in front of the fireplace, staring into the cold hearth.

“Overwhelming, aren’t they?” For a change, Gamling gave her a massage. He eyed one of the bottles of oil that he had brought from Gondor, before shrugging and deciding against a gentle seduction that night.

An uncharacteristic groan softly escaped her mouth.

The Hall bustled with preparations, the noise level climbing. Beornia’s eldest son, Aglaeca, was indeed, tending his first horse, and he peppered his uncle with questions. Gamling decided it was a relief to escape into the barnyard to teach the boy proper techniques, a little archery and the surrounding Riders were shocked at his patience.

Once or twice, the couple managed to escape to the small outcrop to hide from the constant goings on. It was never for long, but it was long enough for the two to catch their breath. There was no privacy, no rest, Aefre typically falling into their bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Four days before the wedding, as everyone was settling down to supper, Eadignes came screaming into the Hall, wailing nonsense until she reached Gamling, tugging at his sleeve.

“Oh please oh please, he’ll kill him, you have to stop him, oh please-”

***
tbc
***


A/N

Solaris - YOu're wait is over... and now it begins again! (Shouldn't be long - - 33 is at beta 2 - this chapter was so huge, I split it in two.)

Pandorag - Sometimes, a chapter sets up the next... or a later one. I've got this whole thing in my head and times I feel I need to do some character development. I really need to arch this thing...

Julietee - Yes, I'm playing with a bunny for Eomer and Lothiriel, as well as Gamling's parents. Just jotting down ideas right now.

Yanic. Thank you. He's very humbling to write.

Nicky - Gamling is very straight forward. He's been fun to write.

Nakhti - MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! The books end too soon to suit me. We see the vitory, but not the hardship afterwards - except the Shire. To think everyone won and went home - well, that's ludicrious. Considering what Saruman did to the Westfold and what Sauron did in Gondor - I think Rohan had a hard time of it for a few years and I feel rebuilding was as much political as it was physical. I'm going to try to portray it in a realistic fashion.

Minerva... well..... I GUESS so.... ***snerk***

Fyiaran - Better late than never. Glad you're enjoying.