Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Rider of the Mark	By : ZeDrippyVessel Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 22785 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 47
- 48
For Niamh, who bounced the original bunny oh so long ago. I never thought she’d be gone before I finished it. And thank you Alex, for your patience.

Rider of the Mark 47

The will to Ride

Stare into my eyes, can’t you see the endless sky
Peaking through the cracks of that abandoned barn
I got my first kiss there.

Two days after the birth of Léoma, Éomer King, flanked by his council, sentenced Gifre to be branded as a thief and then to be taken post-haste to the Wold and executed for murder, treason and other unnamed heinous crimes against men and women, his body to be burned and left for carrion.

An execution éored of veterans was assembled, headed by Gamling, and they took him into the Wold. As tradition called, the night before the execution, each man donned a black mask, covering head and hair and began the long night of swapping tents, beds, so at sunrise, when they withdrew from someone else’s tent and drew straws, no one truly knew who was who. Gifre’s own horse dragged the thief and as ordered, they burned the body and left him.

Taking the hall of Woldenfeld was not easy, but was done rather quickly. With Willan in attendance, it was easy to separate the true soldiers of the garrison from Gifre’s friends. Their sentence read, they were taken to Fangorn and told if they made it to the trees, their lives were their own.

None made it.

Before they returned home, Gamling walked through the home and garrison that had been so efficiently run by Lufian and his wife. It was now run down, damage done to the walls, the furniture. It would take work to repair it to its former splendor, more than what could be done in a season and he took mental note of the materials, the manpower needed to repair and rebuild. The barn was turning into a lean-to, the true soldiers struggling to keep the barracks and barn in working condition. He did not blame them and informed them so. They were horrified to learn there had been a war – an honest – to - Béma WAR and they missed it, thanks to that sniveling lying coward. He informed them he would be returning in the spring as Marshal, with his wife and child; that news was greeted with cheers. When he informed them his wife was the Lady Aefre, that news was greeted with whoops and hollers. One soldier told them where Gifre kept his personal stash of ale and they toasted their new commander and wife in style, to the point most of the soldiers staggered to their beds, happy drunks for the first time in some years.

Six weeks after Aefre gave birth, her mare followed suit and birthed a chestnut filly with a blaze and four socks. She was up on her hooves quickly, and nosing her mother for milk soon after. Dréogan was most interested in the proceedings, his head hanging over the railing, until the front hooves came out and with a look of equine disgust, he went to the other side of his stall, until cheering went up and he too, came to inspect his daughter.

They named her ‘Smeartides’ - for she was a very precocious lady indeed.

Eadlyn’s captain was old, too old and admittedly wishing to retire, so upon his return, Gamling spoke to Éomer, and secured the transfer of Éothain, to take over the garrison there. Several Riders with families were persuaded to move as well, ensuring Eadlyn would finally heal and her son would not only have desperately desired playmates, but that someone would teach him to ride.

By the time he earned his first cloak, it was noted by elderly riders there that he rode as wild as his grandfather.

When the call went out for volunteers to relocate, all were shocked at the numbers willing to go. Abéodan, other young, newly cloaked Riders. But most shockingly of all, Eadignes, hand in hand with Willan.

“Should we watch for the two of you to be wrapped in his cloak?” Éomer was startled by the openness and willingness to leave.

Willan shrugged, grinning.

“Not yet,” Eadignes spoke up, but looked up smiling. “Maybe someday, but not yet.”

Gamling pulled her into a bear hug. “I am so happy for you.” He stroked a soft cheek with his thumb.

Eadignes cupped his in her hand. “As I am for you. If your lady had not done what she had done, had she not been gracious and forgiving, I would still be down there, thinking I had no right to love anyone. She has become a dear friend, something I’ve never had.” She kissed him swiftly before moving on.

In mid-spring, with new settlers, wagons loaded, and sleeping babes, both human and equine, tied to mothers, Gamling’s family and Riders began a slow journey to the Wold, to reclaim what had been stolen.

When they reached Woldenfeld after many days, Aefre slid from her horse, her mouth agape. What a man called ‘run-down’ and ‘in need of moderate repair,’ she in her woman’s heart called, destroyed, ransacked, in need of extensive repairs. Her grandmother told her when she was younger, men saw dirt on an agricultural level, while women saw it at the minute level. She burst into tears, seeing for herself what had been done to her home. She was aware somewhere that her husband took her in his strong embrace and held her close, letting her cry.

“It’s alright, Aefre. We can fix this.”

“Not today, we can’t!” she retorted. “We can’t fix this today!”

“No. Not today. But we will fix it.” He patted her reassuringly. “We will. We’ll make Lufian proud.”

***

Three summers later

***

***Dammit! I’m hard and I’m horny.***

Gamling, Marshal of the Wold, Lord over Woldenfield – when his wife let him be Lord over Woldenfield – and Commander of one of the largest garrison’s in Rohan, had been in the saddle much too long.

***Howmuchfurther? I’mnotgonnawaitnope! Just going to bendheroverthe nearest whatever and just poundher_***

“Sir?” Gamling’s nefarious thoughts were interrupted by a newly deepening voice. Haleth had finally seen battle by going along with the rest of the garrison to Gondor to break in his new spurs against the Easterlings who continued to plague Gondor’s borders. He spent his first night back in Rohan, breaking in other things at the Blue Whale. As was his wont, Gamling had quietly picked the woman, young and plump, slipping extra coins in her blouse to ‘take extra care’ of the young Rider. From the grin that stayed on Haleth’s face for two days, obviously, she had done just that. “If we pick up the pace just a bit, we can be home by lunch.”

“In a hurry?”

Haleth wasn’t put off by the droll tone. “Just as much as you are.” Following the lead of the marshal, the éored put their heels to their horses’ flanks and picked up the pace. Close to noon, just over the plain from Woldenfeld, a single large, draft horse, Willan sitting proudly, Léoma, wild sun-kissed hair flying freely in the wind, and sitting in his lap, met the group. She scrambled down from the draft, and ran towards her father, arms out-stretched. “Da! Da!”

Gamling stopped and scooted back, giving her room to climb Dréogan and settle in the saddle. She twisted and hugged him fiercely. “Missed you!” She leaned back and gave him an admonishing look that looked scarily enough like his mother. She shook his finger at him. “Don’t you be gone so long again!”

“Yes, ma’am. I will inform the king that you will no longer allow me to ride with him.” Gamling nudged the stallion forward, pulling even with Willan. “Willan, how fare you?”

Willan grinned from ear to ear, crooking an arm out as if to cradle a babe.

“So, Eadignes finally had that wee bundle you’ve been waiting on!” Willan grinned proudly. “What did you ha-”

“Tell him!” Léoma was bouncing up and down, causing Dréogan to look over his shoulder askance. “Tell him you had a big strappi…hrmmmph…” Gamling’s hand went over his daughter’s mouth.

“A girl?” Willan shook his head. “A boy then! Congratulations!! Riders of the Riddermark!” Gamling swung his war stallion around to face them. “Today, we rejoice! Willan has a fine son!” Cheers went up, congratulations. Everything was celebrated in the Riddermark, especially birth.

They rode on in silence for a few moments, before Léoma spoke up again. She nattered on and on about this mare giving birth, Eadignes’ baby coming late in the day, her cat having kittens in the barn, five of them. She wanted to bring them in to her room, but mama said no. Mama said no a lot, which was why Da was her favorite person. He rarely said no. She suddenly blurted, “Mama has been sick.”

“What?”

“I said,” she spoke as if she were speaking to a small child, “Mama has been sick!”

“By sick, you mean not feeling well?” Gamling nudged his horse a bit faster.

“Two days after you went to ride with Éomer,” when he was called to battle, they didn’t tell her he was called to war, they simply told her he was riding with Éomer, King. “Mama puked her guts in the hall. It was nasty.”

Gamling was now growing concerned. “But she is better now.”

“No.” Léoma was matter-of-fact and to the point. She was almost cheery. “She has been sick every single morning. She says, ‘Let’s get this over with so I can get on with my day!’ and then she sicks up. Cook is feeding her fruit and vegetables. I hate vegetables.” She did. The child developed a taste for roast beef and spicy mustard at an early age. “Mama said the funniest thing yesterday. She said her being sick was your fault and you were such a man. Da? What is such a man and why is mama being sick your fault?”

“Mama is sick because, I’m such a man, I suspect.” His mind was reeling, the headiness of it.

Finally…

“Da…” she was smacking his thigh. “Make him go fast. Make Dray-gan go fast.”

Gamling rarely denied his daughter anything. She loved the wind in her face as much as he or her mother. He bent over, arm snaking around her, whispering in her ear to hold on to the saddle. He clicked his tongue, Dréogan’s ears perking at the readied signal. He dug in his heels and the stallion took off, leaving Willan and the éored in the dust, Leoma’s laughter lingering in the air.

They roared into the yard, the bustling and busy-ness making Gamling feel at home. He dismounted, bringing Léoma with him, sending her to the kitchens for a treat and admonishing a passing girl, carrying buckets of water to ensure that he and his wife were not disturbed until the evening meal.

That meant keeping his daughter occupied. He took his stallion to the barn, newly raised earlier in the spring. The first thing they had done in the barn was celebrating Willan and Eadignes’s marriage. She had been so very pregnant and Willan had pleaded before she finally agreed. He curried the stallion, put him in his stall. He checked on Adenydd, noted she was filling out with her baby nicely. In the fall, there would be another addition to the stable. Her daughter, Smeartides was across the stallway, prancing about. She was proving difficult to break, throwing rider after rider and Gamling decided on his way back that a trip to the river to ride her in until she tired was in order. He shook his head and after throwing an apple to his stallion, he headed to the house.

His scowl deepened as he approached the entry.

He flung the doors open. “AEFRE!” His roar echoed loudly, causing all to turn. Léoma stood in the kitchen opening, sweetbread in her hand and her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. Before she could utter a sound, the cook brought her back in the kitchens, reminding her this was just a game her father and mother played.

Aefre come in from the dining room, polishing a piece of silver. She looked up to see Gamling standing in the hall, before moving towards her with great speed. She handed the cloth and fork to the girl next to her, lifted her skirts and began to run up the stairs. He beat her to the stairwell and lifted her up and over his shoulder. His hand smacked down possessively on her bum, before mounting the stairs. “You know where you’re supposed to be!” Aefre began to kick and squirm, names flowing from her mouth…

***that I’m going to kiss and lick and suck***

“Your arse is getting big!” He snickered at her gasp and he kicked their door open, back-heeling it shut behind them. Remembering the night Léoma walked in on them enjoying their marital bed, (and the hall enduring all sorts of embarrassing ‘do you sleep naked’ questions for some days) he quickly dropped the bar, ensuring their privacy. He set the still squealing woman gently to the floor.

“My butt is NOT getting wider, you oaf!”

His mouth found hers, his tongue searching, searing hot. Desperate hands found ties, yanking them loose, while he continued to explore her mouth, before blazing a trail to her ear.

*Aefre hothothotwildthing beautiful Aefre*

Her own hands were not idle, his riding leathers hitting the floor with a resounding thud. Her skirts, his trousers, were kicked off, kicked away, both of them toeing shoes, one of his woolens came off, the other one, only half way. Eventually, both made it to the bed, his mouth to her breast, immediately hearing her gasp, before remembering they were sore early on. Releasing it, he positioned himself, before plunging deeply into the hot, heated hallowed place and establishing an age-old rhythm. She met him, thrust for thrust, her knees about his waist, her hands encasing his head, as their tongues met and clashed again.

At some point, he rolled, bringing her up with him, allowing her to ride, to establish her own rhythm. He waited for her to come to completion, spending herself first, before coaxing her to her knees and riding her, his hand caressing that plump cheek and smacking it more than once, watching it jiggle in voyeuristic satisfaction. He finished with a roar, before collapsing on her back. They both lay that way for sometime, before he rolled from her and the two scurried beneath the light quilt.

“Why do you let me do that to you?”

Aefre snuggled in under his arm, sated and content. Even in the summer, the bed was cold and lonely when he was on campaign and deep inside, she would endure most anything when he returned, simply to bask in the knowledge, he had returned home safe. “Because you like it and truth be told, I like it to!”

For some moments, they enjoyed each other, touching, kissing. Eventually, his hand roamed downward to her stomach, feeling the hard bump that already resided there. “How far along are you?”

Aefre raised her head. “How did you know?”

Gamling looked at her as if she had suddenly turned dense. “Your arse is bigger!” He laughed heartily while she smacked him. “All right, all right! Léoma and Willan met us out past the fields and she said you had been sick every morning and you blamed me for your illness.” Again, he stroked the hardened bump. “You must have known before I left. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know, Gamling.” She burrowed into that welcome, warm, comforting, safe embrace. “Eadignes thinks I might be having twins.”

“Two?”

“Aye.”

*AlrightgomeIamthemantheman! Who’s the Rider, who IS the Rider…*

“When?”

“Late winter or early spring.”

He continued to caress her. “I am not leaving this time.”

Aefre nodded in agreement. “I want you to stay. I wanted you to stay the last time.”

They talked, softly for a while. Éomer’s wife was due with their first child before harvest and it was gently suggested that Aefre’s presence would be most welcome. Gamling and Éomer had the pleasure of catching Beornia wrapped in Cynn’s cloak before they left on campaign. They were a happy couple, with all of the fosterlings growing up and causing chaos. He promised Cynn the eldest boy of the children would be more than welcome at the garrison for Rider training.

Aglaeca, as well as Bawdewyne earned their first Rider’s cloak. His brother’s would be rewarded by the next summer…

Life continued. And it was quiet in their rooms.

“Are you happy?”

Aefre’s eyes were heavy, not really wanting to sleep, as dinner would be ready soon and their hall would be filled with hungry riders and soldiers and their wives and girlfriends and children. Their child. It would be a noisy, rowdy evening, with much singing and children going to bed early to make way for celebrating a successful campaign and return. All of their Riders had returned, with nothing more than minor injuries. “Am I happy?” She leaned up on her elbow and looked her husband in the eye. “I am ecstatic and content and joyous.”

Gamling’s eyes narrowed in calculated merriment. “In that case, could you possible have a closer look at M’lord Happy?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Aefre’s laugh was so boisterous, it could be heard down the corridor, muffled only when she dived under the covers and made the Marshal sigh in contentment.

Life. Life was good in the Riddermark.

***fini***

I Wear My Life
Jo Dee Messina.

Rider of the Mark
Begun 09/12/2004
Finished 10/08/2011
- 47
- 48
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Rider of the Mark