***
Things moved very quickly once Théoden announced that Rohan would answer Gondor's summons and began to issue orders. …omer and Gamling spent scant minutes with heads together, planning, tracing their routes. …omer decided to take the Westemnet, while Gamling would take the more arduous route of the Eastemnet, searching out the more nomadic Riders. Gamling sent word down to the stables to have Dréogan saddled and bridled within the half hour. He headed to his chambers -
***Dréogan readied...need provisions, gear, travel light and swift. Tack, maybe get Aefre to bring my war gear Dréogan's heavy armor and my...***
It dawned on him as he mounted the stairs that he was depending on Aefre doing -
*** dammit!***
As he strode into his chambers, he found her there, bustling about, stacking clothing, weapons, armor... his armor, chain mail, on the bed. She barely acknowledged his entrance.
"Good! You're here. Where are your saddle bags?" She didn't allow him to answer. "Are you taking the East or Westemnet?"
"East-"
"You need to travel light, don't weigh Dréogan down with armor or yourself with heavy weaponry. You have the furthest to travel. Luckily, you'll have fewer Orcs and Mountain men to worry about - just have to find those dratted nomads! You'll need to travel light." She moved quickly, separating stacks of clothing, armor. "I've sent Willan to the kitchens to pack provisions; dried meat, bread, maybe some cheese. Definitely apples. And water. You'll need water. Tell me where Dréogan's war armor is kept; I'll make sure it gets to Dunharrow. Willan is procuring a wagon and we will leave for the camp after lunch. I'll have your gear, everything, so you need not..." she found herself caught in his embrace, held tight, "... worry."
"I won't worry. You are in charge, My Lady."
Aefre looked up and realized she was lost... lost in a sea of cerulean... no air... why couldn't she breathe?
"Well... I'll make sure your weapons are cleaned, sharpened." She was talking slower, seemed to be unsure... "Your tent will be up... you'll want a..."
"Yes?"
The thought... the thought... where did it go?
"You'll want a good night's sleep when you reach..."
"Aefre?"
"... the ... the... yes?"
"I trust you. You'll have everything ready for me when I arrive in two days."
She nodded blankly, echoing. "Two days. Yes. It will be taken care of."
Abruptly, he turned her loose. For a few minutes, they worked silently, side by side, hands crossing , brushing. Willan showed up, two large rucksacks of food materializing on Gamling's side of the pile, along with several skins of water. She watched as he carefully packed each and every piece in two saddlebags, then belted on his sword.
"You have everything you need, Aefre?" He didn't look up.
Aefre kept her own head down and nodded. Hoisting his bags over his shoulder, he headed towards the door.
"Be careful... Just Gamling."
Gamling didn't know if it was the softness of her voice or the caring tone, but he stopped in his tracks. …omer was standing in the door with his mouth open as if to say something. Gamling shoved his saddlebags at the future king, shoving him backwards in the process. Slamming the door in his face, he turned to see Aefre sigh deeply and then her breath catch with a stifled sob. In great strides, he moved across the room, pulling the leather glove from one of his hands. "Aefre?" Gently, he took her by the chin, forcing tear - filled eyes to look at him.
"Just Gamling. You'll- -"
"Be quiet. Don't cry."
Aefre tried to smile. "Is that an order?"
The question struck him strangely. "An order? No. A request." He pulled her close, one arm behind her, the other cradling the back of her head. He was focused... on...
"Inhale."
His mouth came crashing down, forcing almost roughly, teeth nipping before she could protest. It was brutal, it was crushing, it was...
Her hands went into his hair, thumbs gently skirting the rims of his ears, holding him to her as she battled back. He pulled his mouth from hers roughly and pressed his forehead to hers.
"I'll apologize when I reach Dunharrow."
Without giving her a chance to respond, he turned and throwing the door open, left her standing in the middle of his room.
…omer was leaning against the wall, out of the way, and wordlessly handed Gamling his saddlebags. Nodding his thanks, Gamling took and shouldered them. He started to move off.
"Old man." Gamling stopped and turned. "She's a good woman. She's worth fighting for, worth coming back for."
Gamling couldn't even smirk. He simply nodded and walked off.
Dréogan was agitated; no one could saddle him, but Gamling. Finally, he was geared and ready. Gamling pulled up and as he rode from the stable, he looked up towards his window, hoping, praying,
***please please be there, Aefre...***
and saw her standing.
Watching.
***
She observed, waited until he was out of the front gates, gazed until his horse was nothing but a speck on the horizon. Taking a steadying breath, she turned back to the bed, biting back tears. She was in a hurry to finish packing Just Gamling's things. After all, she was in a hurry; she had her own things to pack.
***
Two weary days later, Gamling rode into the camp at Dunharrow. He was directed up the high mountain, to his tent. Despite his exhaustion, he insisted on rubbing Dréogan down, weighing out his oats, making sure of the cleanliness and freshness of the warhorse's water. He gave him the last of the apples, whispered grateful thanks in the stallion's ear. He found a seat, was joined by …omer and together the two shared stew, hot, bitter caffe and compared numbers of Riders.
"It's too few." Gamling whispered, watching the goings on in the camp. "Too few have answered. Less than half of what Théoden expected."
"I know. I had hoped to find more when I arrived." …omer was subdued, his joking nature shoved beneath the surface. Gone was the prankster, the happy-go-lucky, young man. Instead, in his place was the serious Rider, capable Horse Lord, a man fit to -
*** Lead a legion of Riders... command an army... rule a country...***
They lamented the lack of Riders, joked over the Hobbit's desire to fight, his lack of stature. They didn't see Eowyn's displeasure, her restlessness.
And when the Ranger, Elf and Dwarf left suddenly, quietly without explanation, traveling into the Dimholt, Gamling knew they were all going to die.
***
Gamling stood in the flap and took in the small tent assigned to him. Aefre flitted back and forth; smoothing furs, making sure the brazier was properly vented. Despite the wind and the night chill outside, the inside of the tent was warm, cozy even. It was obvious she had taken a great deal of time and pride in making sure of his comfort. He recognized the furs and bedding from his own room and it looked as if some of hers as well.
"Aefre. Did you keep any bedding for yourself?"
She did not look up from the brazier. "I'm fine." Her voice was very subdued and she seemed to have a hard time looking at him. It was a cowed, submissive response and he found that he did not like it coming from her.
"Aefre."
She stood up quickly, dusting coal from her hands. "You have a long ride starting in the morning. You will need your rest."
Gamling stared at the rugs, looking where her eyes had focused, but for the life of him, he could not see what was so damned interesting, what held her attention. What he had just witnessed outside bothered him deeply and despite his training, his many years riding the Mark and fighting Orcs, he was greatly disturbed.
A chance like this would never happen again.
"Aefre." His voice was wrung out like water from a mop, pained and tired. "The Ranger has left. He has deserted us."
Her head shot up, eyes disbelieving. "What?" Her hands clenched, the knuckles turning white. "He can't have left. The people have followed him, relied on him. Théoden trusts him."
Gamling could not bear to look at her. He closed his eyes in fury. "Aye. The Ranger, the Elf and the Dwarf."
"All three?" She grabbed his hands, her calloused fingers snaking into his palms. "They just ... rode out of camp?"
His head jerked in frustration. "Oh, no. Nothing as straightforward as that." He gripped her fingers, entrapping them in his hands. "They went through the Dimholt, to the Dwimorberg."
Silence.
He didn't expect silence - not from her. He expected... denial, tears, screeching.
Wait. She inhaled.
He steeled himself for the outcry, the howl of repudiation.
It didn't come.
"The Ranger? Aragorn? Went to the Dwimorberg?" Her eyes had lit up, joy totally encompassing. " That's wonderful!"
Gamling's eyes shot open in disbelief. "Wonderful? That mountain is cursed! No one who goes in comes out. It is guarded by the dead."
"NO! Do you not know the truth of the Dwimorberg?"
"It is guarded by the dead. Only the dead may pass."
Aefre was bouncing. "Gamling, don't you see? He is the King of Gondor! He can command them!"
Was she insane? Command ghosts? Who could command ghosts?
Apparently, Aefre could see the disbelief in his eyes. Gently, she pulled her hands from his, to caress his cheek. "Ah, love. Don't you know about the ghosts of the Dwimorberg?"
Gamling shrugged, burying his face in the warmth of her hands. His own came up, to hold them there. "What is there to know, Aefre? It is a wicked, cursed mountain, guarded and lorded over by the ghosts of wicked, cursed men. Cowards."
"Yes, yes, yes! Cursed by Isildur, the King of Gondor. Only the King of Gondor can release them. Aragorn, the Ranger, commands them! They must fight!"
The weight of her words sunk like stone into his belly. "Who could withstand or kill a dead army?"
Her voice was like wind through the trees.
"No one."
It was little relief, but it did not matter because before he could utter another sound, she released his face and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.
***not another chance like this one, sweet saucy, sweet sweet...***
His arms slid around her shoulders, pressing her to him, holding her close...
***warm, so warm, sweet sweet thing, soft, sweet...***
He dipped his head, brushed his nose through her hair...
***Bémasweetfingersmagicsweetsweetthingsaucysmellso...***
"...sweet thing..."
He stiffened.
Did he just say that out loud?
"What did you say?"
Aefre was looking up, confusion in her dark eyes.
No. Not confusion.
Longing.
He tucked a finger under her chin, lifting it slightly. Leisurely, his thumb stroked her bottom lip, the callous of his thumb sending sparks across her mouth. He leaned over closer, his voice a bare whisper.
"Stay."
His mouth replaced his thumb, sweetly teasing, nipping. If Aefre was surprised at the gentleness of this giant of a man, she did not let on, simply melted into his embrace. He grunted once, when their noses bumped awkwardly, but somehow, they managed.
***sweetsweetsweetsweet...aah...***
He tasted like the bitter caffe he had drunk earlier with …omer and she decided she liked the taste and couldn't get enough. Reluctantly, they came up for air. His hands cupped her face, lips canvassing over her forehead.
"Are you sure?" She sounded winded, breathless and Gamling felt a slight tug of satisfaction that he had done that to her. He flicked the tip of his nose over hers, lips hovering.
"Stay."
This time, when his mouth covered hers, it was not the sweetness of honey; it was sheer heat, possessive. His hands snaked down her arms, underneath and around her waist, and cupping the curve of her backside, he pulled her close, into him.
He felt her stiffen, her hands going to his shoulders and she pulled away.
"Aefre? Do you want this?" He slid his hands up her back, bracing her.
"Yes." Nervously, she plucked at the lint, the stray leaf or speck of dust on his tunic. "Of course, I want this."
Strange woman. What game was this? "Surely you are not frightened of me?" he teased.
That brought a smile to her face. "No, you goose! I am not frightened of you." Her smile faded slightly and she... blushed. "Please, can we turn down the fires? The lanterns?"
***Aaaaaaaah. So she is shy.***
He pulled her close again, his nose trailing a path down the loose tendril of her hair, to her ear. "But I wish to see you."
"There isn't much to see."
"I don't believe you." He nipped her ear, causing her to gasp. Before she could protest, he licked it, soothing the small hurt. Her hands tightened on his tunic as she burrowed in and he nuzzled her neck.
Giggling.
Damn! The woman was giggling?
Aefre had hunched her shoulders and was attempting to tunnel further into his embrace.
"Gamling! Please." Her voice was muffled by his armor. "People will hear!"
***Hmm. Shy and self-conscious!***
He pulled back, grabbing her by the elbows. Giving her a mock scowl, he growled, "Turn off the lights, people will hear. One would think you are afraid of letting your hair down!"
"Nay! Not afraid of letting my hair down!" She playfully scowled back. "I simply do not wish to have knowing glances in the morning from those who listened to us rut like younglings this evening!"
Gently, his lips canvassed her forehead, her eyelids, before whispering in her ear, "Aefre. Tomorrow, we ride to battle. Many will not come home to Rohan. I suspect many men are doing what you and I do tonight - finding solace in the arms of one they love. I doubt they will pay much heed to the sounds of two such decrepit old people!"
"DECREPIT?" The cut got just the reaction he hoped for and as she stepped back in indignation, he casually unhooked his cloak. "OLD? I'll show you-" Gamling slung his cloak over the small table and moved to grab her, only for her to step out of his reach. "You wretched, boorish dolt; you-"
"Do tell everyone." His hands went to the fastening of his gauntlets; they clanged as they hit the floor.
Aefre's mouth snapped shut and her eyes shot daggers.
***spicysaucythingthingthing***
She continued to back up until her heel caught the bedding. She began to edge around the side.
Gamling's chest plate came up and over his head and as he leaned over to set it down, he blew out the lantern in that corner. He crooked his fingers at her.
***Come here.***
She playfully shook her head no, tossing her overdress to the side and blowing out the lantern in her corner...
Sidestepping, he made his way towards the front flap, tying it so it would not fly open in the wind. Leather shoulder braces dropped in the floor and the rest of his riding armor followed. He toed off his boots, before blowing out that corner's lantern, leaving one small light in the furthest corner from the bedding.
She started to step towards it.
"Nay." It stopped her in her tracks. "I wish to see you."
"But-"
With speed she would not have believed had she not seen it, Gamling rushed across the tent, tackling her to the bedding and pinning her beneath him. He slid comfortably next to her, cocooning her by throwing a leg over her. Propping himself on one elbow, he used his free hand to pluck at the laces of her bodice.
"I wish to see you."
Aefre turned as much as she could to face him and began to pull at the fastenings of his own tunic. "I don't know why. I suspect I'm no different from any other woman."
He crushed her to him, causing her hands to fall flat on his chest. His nose raked through her hair, before finding her ear. "Nay." It was a heady whisper and his breath caused to her shiver slightly. "You smell better."
Which was true. Others he had been with, whores, serving wenches mostly, had smelled of food and kitchen smells, fireplaces and sweat. Aefre smelled of flowers and rain, of air and sweet...
***...things..***.
She wiggled around, managing to put some space between the two of them. Again, her hands found the lacings of his tunic. "I do bathe on a regular basis, Just Gamling."
***Thank Béma for small miracles***
His mouth found hers again and it was decided by both that some battles were not truly fought to be won or lost. His hand slid down her back, finding the curve of her backside. As the top of his tunic loosened, her fingers finding bare skin, he pulled her into him, grinding, leaving no doubt the exact nature of his interest.
She pulled his tunic open, baring him to the air, to her. Her fingers followed, found puckered scars, traced ridges of long forgotten injuries, flickered over flat male discs, that when caressed, sent shooting sparks...
Gamling inhaled sharply and grabbed her hands, folding them in between them.
Brown eyes, filled with confusion...
"Did I hurt you?"
"No! I... no one has..."
Dawning replaced confusion.
"Ah." Aefre smiled. "No one has ever touched you back?" Glaring from his side of the furs.
"I am not inexperienced..."
"I didn't say or think you were." Aefre had the gall to smirk knowingly. "However, I am not going to just hang on for dear life, nor will I brace myself to be ridden like Mearas." She kissed and flicked her tongue in the grooves of his hands. "Sometimes, I like to bite-" she nipped the fleshy sides of his hands. "-just to get your attention. Passion should be both ways, with both partners giving equally." She pulled her hands from his and pulled his tunic back apart. Fingers found their way tracing scars yet again. "Will you allow me to give to you?"
"Do I have a choice?" It was a strangled whisper and Gamling couldn't understand why for the life of him, he couldn't get much more sound out.
Her mouth replaced her fingers.
Lights exploded behind his eyes. He was pulling on her skirts, drawing them up, exposing long legs.
***longlonglonglegsaroundmyneck***
Lightly, calloused fingers stroked the soft flesh of her thighs, causing her to shiver and sigh. Screaming need filled his head, as he grasped her by the knee and pulled it between his legs, high up...
***too many clothes...so hot in here...***
Aefre helped him shrug out of his tunic, neither of them knowing exactly where it was slung. Her hands were everywhere, over wide shoulders, sinewy arms, hewn by many years of military and equine training. Her touch was like air and ice and fire and oh, Béma, don't let it stop.
He rolled her flat onto her back, sliding comfortably between her legs. The urge to undo the ties on his leggings and just pull her skirts up was beyond overwhelming...
***No! She's not a serving wench to dally with...***
Her hands slid down his back, finding, tracing the many ridges, scars, muscles, rock hard... her knees rising, legs stroking his outer thighs...
***too fast... too fast...***
"Aefre... wait..."
Down in the shadow of his embrace, glittering pools of want stared back. Her eyes were black, the pupils dilated to such width that the irises were a thin band. Her hands went to the waistband of his leggings. "No. Can't wait..."
Gamling grabbed the frantic digits, his body wanting one thing and him willing another, and brought them to his mouth. "You must or you will find no satisfaction this night." Disentangling her legs, he slid down, his waist seating himself at her juncture and bringing his face down to hers. Again, they battled for nothing, save for heat searching heat. Eventually, his mouth slid to her ear, his tongue flicking the edge of the rim.
Again, she giggled and shuddered again slightly.
"Why-"
"Your beard!" she gasped, sensing his question. "It tickles!"
Ah...
His lips found her neck, and he nipped it. "I'm not shaving it."
"Oh, noooo. Wouldn't ask."
Her fingers wove through his long locks and despite his warning, her hips began to move against him.
***too... many... clothes...***
With a groan, he reared up, settling on his knees. Aefre's mouth was swollen, her cheek reddened by the scratching of his beard that she said tickled her. The removal of contact gave her access to the lacings of his leggings and her hands immediately returned to the task he had set her back from. Shaking his head, he again removed her hands from his clothing and using them as leverage, pulled her up to her knees. As she scrambled up, he pulled her skirts free from being pinned by her legs. With amazing speed, he finished undoing the lacings of her bodice and immediately moved to the side lacings. Several times, he had to stop to remove her hands from his clothing; she was apparently as eager to see him as he was to see her. When he finally had enough, he placed her hands on his shoulders, which only gave her incentive to play with his ears.
"Aefre," his voice was hoarse, "please..."He inhaled sharply through his teeth, when while distracted, she moved one hand to his waist and the other to his groin, kneading, stroking the length of him through his leggings. Being pushed to one's extremes in this way was delightful, but this was too much, too fast. Grabbing her hands again, he nudged her knees together and straddled her, bringing her between his legs and close to the heat of his body. The last lacing of her corseted bodice fell from its mooring and he pulled it over her head, vaguely hearing it hit the rug on the floor. Her hands skirted down his back and clutched the curve of his backside as she lifted up, attempting to undulate against him.
He smiled against her mouth. "Never give up, do you?" he murmured before taking possession of that sweet cavern again.
"I am Rohirrim," she whispered back. Her fingers found the waistband of his leggings and she pressed her fingertips between the material and skin.
He had to smile at her admitted tenacity. Groaning as her fingers slid in lower, his hands found the rounded edging of the final layer of clothing and encountered the final tie that stood between him and her skin. Pulling it, the ribbon came undone easily and as it loosened, he pulled the neck open and down over her shoulders. His fingers hovered, as if not knowing where to touch, before finally threading into her hair. He found the clasp that held the heavy mass from her face and undoing it, flung it as well in the direction of her other discarded clothing, carelessly listening to it bounce and ricochet . Pulling away slightly, he fanned her hair over her shoulders, reveling in the silkiness of it. He watched it fall through his fingers, like a cascade of water, illusive in form.
Her lips found his throat, and he arched, allowing her access to the tender spot at his Adam's apple. She nipped it twice, causing him to hiss and drop her hair. His hands fell, descending over her shoulder, down to the heavy curve of her breast.
Her mouth abandoned its pleasurable trickle down his neck and she leaned against him, pushing into his hand. His thumb slowly encircled the tip of her breast, before finally brushing across the nipple, causing it to awaken and harden.
Her hands had ultimately breached the waist of his leggings and her palms met nothing but heated flesh.
He was teasing her, teasing the hard bud...
"What do you want, Aefre?" he whispered in her ear.
At first, there was no sound but her breathing, labored, heavy. Eventually, in a waft of air coming from his chest....
"More. Touch me."
Gamling grabbed the top of her shift, pulling the neckline as far open as it would go, before yanking it down and over her arms, causing her to pull her hands from his backside and pinning her elbows to her side. Both breasts sprang free, large, heavy...
***sweetsweetperkyfitinmymouth...***
His mouth, nose made a hot, burning trail from her ear, down her shoulder...
***smellapplesapplesapples***
... finding the insistent nipple. He licked at it, agitating the engorged disc and the pebbling areola around it. Aefre was finally whimpering; she had managed to pull her arms from the sleeves of her underdress and wrapping her arms around his head, pulled him into her.
His hand found her other breast and teased it in a similar fashion.
Her groans became louder.
***...so much for no one hearing us...***
***do you really care? Sweetsweetaefre...***
Gamling's teeth scraped, lovingly irritating her nipple. Sweetly, he closed his mouth around it, laving his tongue over the aroused nipple.
She began to undulate against him, her hips moving, searching, grinding against him. His free hand moved down her back, cupping her bottom, and held her against him.
She was humming nonsense, no tune or melody, deep in her throat. Words escaped and he vaguely heard...
"Harder. Suck harder."
***... your wish....***
Gamling obliged, clamping down on the peak and pulling it into his mouth, he pressed her further into him. His body was screaming, begging for completion, but he was determined that this would last longer than a few well-seated thrusts. Her moving against him and now very vocal groaning was making him harder than he had been in ages.
"I... have... two, you... know."
Gamling released her breast and felt it slide from his mouth as he smiled in raucous glee. He rolled the other nipple between his thumb and finger, teasing it to that state of painful pleasure. "Is it jealous?" he whispered against her skin.
Her eyes were glittering, slitted to thin gashes of bronze fire. "Yessss."
His hands switched places; the one that had held her up against him now replacing his mouth, as the other moved downward. Instead of cleaving her to him, he found the bottom of her garment and pulling it up and over, rendered her naked to him.
***...sweetsweetsweetlushcurvesofelbereth...***
The moment her last protective scrap of clothing was sacrificed to the gods of skin...
The voice that never stopped in Gamling's head, became mercifully silent.
***
tbc
***