Rider of the Mark

Warning: This is a wedding night. Nothing more, nothing less. It does NOTHING to forward the plot. It's sex, pure and simple. If that doesn't interest you, wait for the next chapter. If it DOES interest you... well, get your towel... or your mop...

Rider of the Mark 39

With this cloak...


***

The door clicked shut behind him; truth be told, Gamling and Aefre had to push it shut, his rowdy and drunk so-called friends on the other side, shouting encouragement and ribald comments. She dropped the bar, ensuring that no one would disturb the twosome until he and Aefre were damn well good and ready to be disturbed.

He wasn't so sure he would let anyone in tomorrow. Cloak be damned!

Gamling removed the white cord from his wrist, its ends dangling loosely and draped it over the bar before turning back to look at the figure seated in the corner. Aefre was the very picture of serenity; sitting on a low stool, with her hands folded demurely in her lap. The room was bathed in candlelight; seemingly hundreds of small candles flickered from every available spot in the room. She watched him as he pulled off his boots-

***damnthingstootight...aaaaah...muchbetter...***

-before making his way towards her. Seeing he had nowhere to sit, he dragged his chair over by hers.

"Look at what Béma left for me." He slid a finger under her chin and lifted it so she looked at him directly. "A rare flower of infinite beauty."

"And what other silly, floral thing did Éothain and Éomer tell you to tell me?" Aefre asked him with a grin.

"Actually," Gamling sank into the chair before her, "Imrahil, the Prince of Dol Amroth, suggested that. Éothain suggested..." he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

Aefre's jaw dropped. "That's... that's disgusting!"

"No." Gamling was smiling. "What Éomer suggested was disgusting!"

Aefre squeaked. "I do not wish to know-"

"No, you do not." He reached up, fingers grazing the neckline of her dress. Gently, he grasped her neck and pulled her forward, whispering again in her ear.

Aefre's eyes flew open in shock, her legs pulling together. "That's... that's... Béma!" Her eyes glanced as his groin before jerking upwards. "You're too big! How is one supposed to-"

"It was suggested we use a great deal of ... oil." A slow smile curled the corners of his mouth, his thumb stroking the lobe of her ear. "Or spit."

Aefre's jaw was flapping with indignation. "Why... why... you can sleep in the barn, if you wish-"

She was silenced with his kiss. "No," he whispered against her mouth, "I'll not ask that. Besides," Very lightly, his hand continued its path, stroking her shoulder and down her arm, "if you demoted me to the barn this early in our marriage, someone else would attempt to take my place in your bed and I'd be quite angry to find my wife wrapped in someone else's cloak." He fingered the gold embroidery on the edge of her surcoat, admiring how the folds cleverly hid her thickening waistline. "Not after I had waited so long to find her." He stood, pulling her to her feet and slid both hands under the flowing over - garment. "I recognize the red, but where did you come by the purple?" He pushed backwards, removing the garment and watched it fall heavily to the floor.

"It was my grandmother's. She wore it at her wedding and my mother wore it at hers."

Gamling was now fingering the neckline of the blue silk. "And should this child be a girl, she will wear it to hers."

"If it lasts. The material is aging and very delicate." Aefre placed her hands on Gamling's shoulders, plucking at the clasps that held his cloak in place. She started to pull it around, but Gamling grabbed her fingers.

"Let it fall." The heavy cloak fell to the floor with an onerous whisper. His hands dropped her fingers, large palms now cradling her neck, his thumbs circling and stroking the soft flesh beneath her ears.

"Ga-"

"Don't speak." He studied her face, an inspection akin to that long ago morning in Dunharrow. His eyelids were heavy, long, fair lashes, dusting permanently wind-kissed cheeks. "You look tired."

"I don't wish to sleep."

His humorous snort was nearly silent and he rested his forehead against hers. "You need to sleep. We will sleep in Aldburg tomorrow, but after that, we will camp. It will be a slow, tedious ride. Speaking of-"

"Don't ask me to ride in the cart." While Gamling was shocked at the pleading in her voice, he did not show it. "I couldn't bear it."

He pressed his forehead into hers, almost painful in the pressure. "You'll not be able to ride back."

"We will cross that river when we get to it." Foreheads still pressed together, Aefre looked up at him, endearingly cross-eyed. "Please?"

The affirmative scowl was grudging. Gamling knew she would win this skirmish; he was willing to concede that little bit, however, he was determined she would not win the return battle.

She was still looking up at him, brown eyes, deeper than anything he had ever experienced, still entreating. "You may ride to Gondor; however we will discuss your return travel arrangements before we leave."

***There! That should appease her... I hope...***

Gamling was toying with the edge of her dress and with a nudge to her shoulder, he had her turn around. Calloused fingers found the ties, tucked and hidden inside the neckline of the dress and the ties of the strip of cloth that bound her breasts. With a gentle push, the final layers of her clothing slid to the floor, baring her to him.

Almost.

"When?" He nodded downwards, towards the lacy smallclothes she was wearing.

"You mother thinks it's scandalous that I wear nothing under my clothes."

He found the tie quickly and began to pluck at it. It came loose easily and followed her wedding finery to the floor. "I'm glad you don't mess with such." Gamling's hands encircled her waist, dipping down to the generous hips, pulling her closer. "Less I have to contend with," he whispered in her ear. With a gentle inhalation -

***appleappleapples***

- he took a step back and looked down at all of her.

He did not make note of the thickened waistline, hips that were beginning to widen, nor darkening areolas. Instead he touched satin skin, was riveted to a coiled braid of deep mahogany. With infinite patience, patience he was not aware that he had, his hands raised, going into the coil, and slowly began to remove the pins. For what seemed forever, his fingers wove and delved deeply, gently dislodging the pins, some new, many old and well worn, loosening the heavy mane that would grace the pillow next to his for a lifetime. Twice, she flinched, stray hairs coming out with the pin. He apologized both times, unaware of her secret smile, as he handed them to her over her shoulder.

Finally, he ran his fingers through silken strands, reveling in the river that ran through them.

"What does it mean?" He nodded to the two pins in her hands.

Aefre lifted one up, inspecting it closely. "It's just an old wives tale."

Gamling snorted. "And?"

His bride rolled her eyes. "Really, Gamling-"

He grasped her wrist, as if to take the hair clips from her. "And?"

"It's rather silly." Aefre jerked her hand backwards, as if to keep the pins from him.

"I'll be the judge of that." Gamling snatched at her, managing to secure one pin from her grasp. He set it on the table, making note of the mirror that had found its way there during the day. "Who?"

"My grandmother's." For a moment, she stroked the gilded edge. "I kept it in a trunk under my bed as I had no where really to hang it in my old room. I had... forgotten about it."

Gamling had a rather evil gleam in his eye. Quickly, he masked it, before she noticed when she caught his reflection in the glass and shook the pin at her. "And?"

Aefre sighed in disgust, realizing her husband wouldn't be swayed. "According to old Shield Maidens, it's how many children we will have. This one," she picked up the lone pin he had set down, "has two hairs. Make of it what you will!"

It was quiet for a moment, azure orbs searching the dark of hers, before he snorted.

"What?"

"Thinking."

Aefre laid the pin down on the table and turned. She reached for the one in Gamling's hand. "Thinking about what?"

Gamling handed it to her and shook his head. "It would be gossip and speaking ill of the dead." He watched as she laid the hair clasp down and then held his hand out for her to unwind her ribband from around his palm.

"Gamling-" she laid the worn scrap of fabric next to the pins.

With a mock, but playful glare, he answered her. "Fyren." He gestured, welcoming her nude body into his embrace.

Aefre's hands stole around him, grazing under his tunic. She found the rim of his leggings and as he had done just minutes before for her, began to loosen his lacings. "What about Fyren?"

A playful tongue tipped the edge of Gamling's lip and with the finesse of a well-trained battalion commander, he began to edge her backwards towards the chair he had vacated, just as her fingers breached the front of his leggings. "He used to brag how his wives screamed at his bedroom prowess." Aefre's knees hit the edge of the seat and she sat down with a soft 'thud.' "Now, I know better." He sank to the floor and lifted her knees apart and over the arms of the chair. Two fingers gently traced a path from her belly to where she met the seat, gently teasing her apart. "He pulled their hair out, ensuring his lineage." The two fingers flipped, the backs now tracing upwards.

Aefre growled once and accommodated him by pulling her knees further apart. "Testing the waters, m'lord?"

He was inspecting her sex, as if to examine the folds. "Reach behind you and grasp the knob." He had learned long ago, she would pull the hair from his head if he wasn't careful and he doubted she would hang on for long.

***I have a plan for that...***

"No." Again, the fingers stroked downward, dragging slowly, this time lingering over the sensitive bud, both fingers separating, outlining, caressing the sides of slick velvet. He blew gently, causing her to gasp, before -

"I'm tasting them."

- inhaling her, encircling her with his tongue.

Aefre bucked once, before moaning and thrusting forward as best she could. Her toes pointed straight to the ceiling as her breath caught in a gasp. In recent weeks, he had come to know her, know her body, know what was sensitive, what would drive her over the edge. He knew when he caressed her *this* way, her hands...

"Yesyesyesyesyes!" Anxious fingers dug into his scalp, entwining in the roots of long hair.

With a grimace and a heart-felt sigh, Gamling leaned back, reaching up to disentangle her fingers. With oft suffering patience, he whispered, "Grasp the knob."

With a loud groan, Aefre obeyed. "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"I know." Gamling blew gently on the still - exposed and swollen bud, causing her to gasp. " You're afraid I won't find the right spot after all this time." He lowered his head.

"No, I...gaaaaaah...." She lost all control yet again when his tongue wrapped around the sensitive nub of flesh. Yet again, she turned loose of the knob and wrapped her fingers in the roots of his hair. Again, with a well - practiced pent - up lament, the Rider pulled back, and pulling her fingers from his hair, stood up and moved to the shelf, where his small chest of personal valuables sat. With a wave of his hand, he bid her to stay put, as he pulled several things from the chest. As an afterthought, he reached over to the small table and grabbing the worn ribband, placed it reverently in the chest.

"What are you doing?"

With an evil grin, he picked up the items he had removed and strolled behind her. "Grasp the knob."

Without thought, Aefre reached for the main knob on the chair above her head. "What did you ha...GAMLING!" Silk scarves were being wrapped around her wrists, the knob and the intricate carvings in the chair. "What are you doing?" Quickly, she found her hands firmly tied above her head. She jerked twice to no avail.

"Doing what I should have done before," Gamling finished up the knot, placed well out of her reach, "a long time ago!" He came around and knelt down between her legs. "Now, I can finish dessert without you pulling my hair out!"

He resumed his sweet torture, licking and nibbling, his teeth plucking gently on the swollen bud. Aefre alternated between curses and endearments, at times Gamling couldn't tell which was which. On several occasions, he caught her on an upswing and managed to delve his tongue deep within the sweet tunnel he planned on plundering in the not to distant future. She accused him of teasing her, torturing her...

And when rivulets of sweat trickled between her breasts, he latched firmly, two long fingers reaching up inside, curling, stroking, suckling...

....screaming...

He waited until her thrashing and the ringing in his ears subsided, before leaning back and using a single thumb to wipe the dregs of her orgasm from his mouth. Her chest was heaving, breath was labored.

"...strd."

Gamling leaned back on his heels, looking up at all of her, legs sprawled over the arms of the chair, her hands gently tied above and behind her head. Her eyes were shut tight and her head was tilted to the left, and Aefre struggled to regain her breath. "What was that?"

"Bastard." It was whispered, her breath still heavy.

"I thought you liked my mother."

Aefre opened one eye and dropped her jaw, most likely to heap more insults on him but before she could utter a word, a wretched caterwauling arose from outside their window.

"Béma! What the-" Gamling stood up from his position, knees creaking and popping slightly. He stared at the window. 'No. It's can't be..." with a scowl, he proceeded to head towards the window.

"GAMLING!" Aefre proceeded to kick to the best of her ability "Don't leave me here tied to this damn chair!"

Gamling thought to tell her to stay put, but he decided not to bother. She was fairly immobile; where could she go? He reached the window and unhooking the latch, threw the shutters open.

The tuneless warbling intensified in sound, now more audibly clear. Leaning over the sill that he climbed out of that morning, Gamling squinted down into the dark garden.

***Béma help us all. That arse is serenading us!***

Sure enough, Éomer and what looked to be Éothain and ...

***Béma, was that Faramir leanng against the wall,laughing?***

several other Riders Gamling didn't even try to identify...


I love to go swimming
with bow-legged women
and swim between their legs...


"What is that? Béma! Is that Éomer?" Aefre was straining, craning to see. The chair was moving slightly, aided by her bouncing. "Damn you! Untie me this instant!"

Gamling never took his eye off his sovereign. For a moment, he seemed to gauge the distance and area, before turning his back to the window. Looking quickly around the room, he spied a likely missile.


Now listen my children, a story you'll hear.
A song I will sing you; 'twill fill you with cheer.
A charming young maiden was wed in the Fall.
She married a man who had no balls at all.
No balls at all.

"What?" Aefre stopped her bouncing for a moment. "Did he just sing what I thought he just sang?" Gamling strode across the room, not seeming to notice Aefre or hearing her chair scrape on the floor.

"Yes." He picked up the offensive weapon and returned to the window.


No balls at all.


"GAMLING! You're not-" More bouncing and scrapping on the floor.

Taking careful aim, Gamling reared his hand back and fired.

"NOT YOUR -


She married a man who had no balls at all.
The night of the wedding she leaped into bed.


The first shot went slightly wide...

" - NEW BOOTS!"

... the sound of dirt being disturbed and kicked up.

"Hhhheeeeeeeeeeeeywhatcherthrowin'?..." Éothain's voice wailed while Éomer continued to warble drunkenly.


Her breasts were a-heaving; her legs were well spread.
She reached for his penis; his penis was-


"Gamling!" Aefre's chair legs were rasping on the wood floor, "don't you dare-"

"They pinch," Gamling muttered. He held his left boot, eyes squinted in the moonlit dark. Spying his target, he took careful aim again.

"GAMLING!"

He threw the detestable footwear...


She reached for his balls; he had no balls-

*thunk*

" at aw... OW! Whaddya..."


Thud.


Gamling continued to peer into the darkness. He saw a shadow disengage from the wall.

"You got him." Faramir's voice drifted up from the garden below the window. The shadow bent of the shadowy lump that Gamling presumed was his king. "Come on, Éothain. You grab his feet."

Thud.

The other shadow fell. The rest of the Riders scattered much like the dirt stirred up by Gamling's thrown boots.

"Well, never mind." Farmir dropped the end he held. "Do you think Éomer King will mind sleeping in the herb garden?" he yelled upwards.

Gamling snorted and slamming the shutters closed, turned back to his bride who, still tied the chair, was now cursing enough to rival Elfhelm's wife. He reached her just as her chair was ready to tip backwards.

"Don't do that." He tilted the chair forward to its normal position.

"Untie me this instance, you buffoon, you-"

"Working on it." Gamling's fingers worked on the slipknots. "Sit still." Within moments, the scarf was unwound and her hands were freed.

Aefre exploded from the chair, turning on him with her finger at the ready. For a moment, her jaw flapped soundlessly, her hand going from fist to thrusting finger to fist... before erupting in laughter.

"Man with no... balls... oh sweet Béma... what was he thinking?"

Gamling's face split in a grin, before holding his hand out to his bride. "I assure you, you aren't bow-legged." Aefre burst into screams of laughter as he led her towards the bed. "I think our king will have hangover of all hangovers in the morning." He watched as she crawled up on the bed, before peeling his tunic and leggings and joining her.

"We should send someone to retrieve him from the garden. It's unseemly and-"

"He deserves it. Silly arse." Gamling reached across the bed and stroked her arm. "Tired?"

For a moment, Aefre's eyes took on a confused look, before softening. "No." It was a gentle whisper and she scooted closer. "I want to ride the Mearas."

There was a moment, when time stood still, as her face hovered over his, her breath gently wafting his beard, before he leaned forward and took possession of what she freely offered. For not the first time, he reveled in the softness of her, in the sweetness of her taste. The sounds of revelry continued to drift upwards from the main hall, but the couple in the large bed were unmindful of the noise. He caught his breath when she grasped him, gently stroking, she herself, marveling at the hardness in her hand. With a nudge, he invited her to his lap, aided her as she straddled him and guided himself into that wet sweetness-

***mine***

- that ever encompassing heat. Her tongue owned his mouth, before moving to his ear and finally, her head resting on his shoulder. His now unoccupied mouth found the hollow beneath her ear, toying with her lobe, his hands pressing her back. Slowly, his fingertips stroked downwards, to the small of her back, before both hands firmly grasped her derriere, pulling her closer and impaling herself further down. As Gamling guided their rhythm, setting her firmly on his cock, one hand, one solitary finger caressed down the center, sliding surreptitiously between her cheeks. He expected the sudden gasp of breath in his ear and the tensing of the figure riding him.

"Gam-"

"Shh." He pressed her forward, his index finger finding the rosebud he was looking for. "Relax."

"Gaml-"

"Would I hurt you?" He waited a moment. "Relax." He continued kneading her rear with one hand, while stroking the edges of her outer wall with the other. Soon, she resumed the rhythm and relaxed. Before long, her quiet mews of need joined in the music of their breathing and the snoring rising through the garden window. At no time did Gamling attempt to invade or probe, simply stroked and teased. On more than one occasion, his mouth found her breasts, her nipples, waiting for that welcome, sudden inhalation of breath.

He held off as long as he could.

"Take me."

Her response was breathless, thready and whispered. "Harder."

He thrust up-

"Not just...that...your... finger-"

***Ah...no timid flower...***

He complied with her request, still not entering, but firmly toying and teasing, thrusting so firmly, he began to tip backwards. Just as his head and back hit the mattress, he felt himself convulse, her teeth scrapping his shoulder, as he shattered within her.


***


It was full dark, the noise from downstairs, and thank Béma outside, had finally died down. Gamling's arm lay draped across Aefre's side, his breathing deep and even, strangely enough, already comfortable and soothing.

She felt... safe...

The smell of sweat and sex -

*Smells of us...*

- was overwhelming in the room, and slowly Aefre removed herself from her husband's embrace. She smiled as he grunted and muttered something unintelligible, grabbing the pillow her head had been cradled on and snuggling into it. Without bothering to wrap herself in anything, she padded softly around the bed, opening the window and quietly securing the shudders back. For a moment, she perused the night sky; there were no clouds, nothing to mar or dim the light from the stars and moon. She found The Rider, found The Horse. Both in the sky were a good omen, a good sky to be married under. Smiling, she crossed the room, stopping at the door and lifting the bar. Listening for a moment before opening it a crack, she draped the white cord over the latch, easing the door shut. On her way back to bed, she picked up Gamling's wedding cloak, still lying in the floor in a heap before making her way back to the bed and climbing onto the foot of the mattress.

She needed to crawl back next to Gamling's side, snuggle into that warm and protective embrace and sleep; it would be a long trip to Gondor and Aefre knew that her husband would start making grumblings about her riding before they were far past Alberg. Truth was, while she won the argument of riding to Gondor, she wasn't sure if she would win it coming back.

Bah. The thought of riding in a cart sickened her - especially for the slow, gruesome task of escorting Théoden home. Granted, it was an honor to be part of Théoden's funeral escort, but... riding in a cart? Maybe, if she pleaded...

Pleas that would more than likely fall on deaf Gamling ears, ears that in the past proved to be difficult and hard - headed. Right, most times, but difficult and obtuse, nonetheless.

Such a man.

She maneuvered to the edge, tucking her legs around her, and leaned against the bedpost to admire the form of the Rider she had married. Lines on his face, especially those that creased his forehead, so evident in wakefulness, were smoothed, erased in sleep. For now, he was peaceful, with the most silly grin on his face. Most nights, he tossed, mumbled about Mûmakils and Orcs, battle trolls and fires. There were still lines feathered around his eyes, from squinting or smiling, she didn't know.

Most likely from squinting into the sun, through fires and smoke in countless battles. Gamling didn't smile much.

Until recently.

Still not a lot, but more than in the past.

***He's older than Lufian was when you married him and you thought he was a veritable ancient when he first rode onto Da's spread... then again, you're not youngling these days either.***

Gamling had now rolled full on his stomach, the light quilt sliding down to past his hips. Her pillow was now in his arms, cushioning his head and Aefre didn't think she would get it back. Each muscle was now pulled taut and...

**You married a sexy man! How did a plain wren like yourself get so damn lucky?***

Twice lucky. That was blessed. Thank you, Béma.

Without thought, she ran her hand beneath the sheet, running fingers through crisp hair, feeling muscle honed and strengthened by hours and hours in the saddle. She had seen these muscles in action; hidden under leggings and mail, but so obviously evident as horse and Rider moved as one.

Respected, highly thought of, twice now, she was blessed. Béma, the man took up the majority of the bed!

"Tickles."

Aefre jerked her hand up and off the leg she was caressing. "I didn't realize you were awake. I'm sorry."

One eye was a narrow slit, the moon not even glinting in the reflection. "Ishokay. Donschtop."

Aefre smiled and moved towards him, her hand now gently massaging the long leg.

"Higher."

She snorted and decided she had married a demanding man. The hand skirted up over the fleshy curve of a well -formed hip, over the small of his back. There was a light downy patch of hair there, unusual compared to the rest of his body. She arched her fingers, going from a gentle rub, to a tender scratch as she roamed higher up his spine.

There was a growl, almost a purr, coming from the pillows.

"What? Would you like me to stop?"

"No." Gamling stretched and thrust his shoulder blade into the cup of her hand. "Feels good. Harder."

Aefre complied, knowing she would ask him to reciprocate in a few moments. All this might even lead into-

The growl/purr was now a rumble. "Lower."

Aefre complied, moving between his shoulder blades.

"Lower."

With the raise of an eyebrow, she scratched the middle of his back.

"Lower."

To the small...

"Lower."

With a wry smile, her fingers lightly raked the curve of his backside.

"Don't stop." The prone man in her bed was now moving with her, the accompanying grin almost child-like. With a sudden jerk, he flipped over, Aefre's fingers having moved from caressing a marble backside, to a hardening...

Well, it was hardening and it was insistent.

"I'm so glad I got married." Gamling was now stretching like a satisfied cat. "Definitely, don't stop."

Aefre had no intention of stopping, but she would be damned if she was going to let him know that. "Like this so much, wish you had gotten married sooner?"

Eyes that had been closed in repose shot open, the moon reflecting in them like mirrors. "No!" It came out almost with too much force. "You were worth waiting for."

Aefre tightened her grip and lengthened her stroking. As she slid downwards, she brought the foreskin down as well, her thumb stroking the head. "If you think I'm going to spend my entire married life scratching your arse all night-"

Gamling sat up so fast, he truly caught her unawares. With a flip, she found herself on her back, a hard leg shoved between her knees, one hand sliding up her jaw, towards her ear. "If I ask nicely, would you?" It was whispered, sounded almost reverent. He lowered himself, his lips caressing, breath tickling her ear. He was prodding her, on purpose or not, heat seeking heat. He kissed her earlobe, tongue teasing the rim, the shell, the remnants of his beard tickling the delicate and sensitive skin of her neck. "Would you if I pleaded?"

She grabbed his face with both hands, cupping his jaw, her own lips finding his. For a moment, she teased-

***Damn, she is good at that. Going to have a time... love this marriage thing...***

-his mouth, his tongue, her nose tracing, nudging the tip of his. "Didn't they tell you?" *kiss* "Once you get married," *kiss* " there is no more sex or naked' *kisskisswithlotsoftongue* "games in the bed." He could feel her smiling against his face as she said it.

"Then they lied," Gamling whispered back, before taking possession of her mouth. With his knee, he pushed her legs further apart, before thrusting once, knowing instinctively where home truly lay, where heat met heat. For long minutes, their rhythm, their breath was as one, a compliment, a dance. There was sweetness, calling and neither was quiet when the culmination came, one of those rare times when both reached their pinnacle at the same time.

It was in the aftermath, when he was still buried deep within her, still feeling both heartbeats pound together, his hands still buried in her hair, her knees still around his waist and her arms clinging to him.

"Yes," her husband whispered in her ear, "whoever told you that sex and naked games stop upon marriage lied."

"Oh," Aefre was still breathless and still trying to gain control of her erratic heart. "They did?"

"Uh-huh." It dawned on Aefre he was grinning in the dark. "It stops when the babies start to arrive."

***
TBC


I want to thank everyone who has stuck with me while my Muses slept the last year and a half. It's been a rough year, but we're back!!!!