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Rider of the Mark 05


Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies


***

A bolt of light shot across the room, zinging pinpoints over his eyelids and waking the Horse Lord in a most abrupt manner. He growled at the intrusion of the happy, whistling invading his blessed quietness.

***Where am I?***

This was not the comfort of the fireplace in the Great Hall, nor could he smell timothy hay.

Dréogan was not breathing down his neck!

***Béma! Would that woman-***

"Stop whistling!"

"I'm sorry, m'lord." Aefre's voice was bright, perky, and she did not sound sorry at all. "The King desires your presence at breakfast this morn."

Gamling opened one eye to see ‘that woman' standing at the foot of his bed, seemingly admiring his form.

"I see," she continued cheekily, "that I'm going to have to put up bed curtains, seeing how you're a slug - a -bed and sleep in the altogether!"

Gamling grabbed at his covers, pulling them higher-

***nothing is showing... what is she talking about?***

- up and growled, "Did you like what you think you saw?"

Aefre turned her back on him, so he would not see the blush creep across her cheeks. "You are no different from any other man I've seen!" She reset the drapery behind the hook on the wall. "Now that you are up, I can go for a ride!" she said over-brightly. "Hurry, now. Théoden King is pacing the floor." Aefre started towards the door.

"Aefre." Gamling sat up, furs bunched around his waist. "Is there something wrong, to have upset the King?"

Aefre stopped, her shoulders slumped. "Aye." Gamling had to lean forward to hear. "Something happened to one of the Hobbits."

"The Halflings? What happened to them? Which one?"

Aefre turned slightly, eyes downcast. "Pippin. Something happened to Pippin."

***

Gamling's headache was immediate and throbbing. Was there ever a time when life was simple and quiet? In the stroke of a sword, Grima Wormtongue had literally wormed his way into Théoden's head, almost bringing Rohan to its knees, Helm's Deep had almost fallen and now-

Pippin had played with fire.

The Fire.

Voices murmured back and forth, talk of war, talk of Gondor, of Sauron. It was obvious that Gandalf and the Ranger expected Rohan to rise to the aid of Gondor.

Théoden was not enthused.

He questioned the Istari and the Ranger and rightfully so. Why should Rohan answer?

Why indeed?

In the end, it was decided to send the little Hobbit to Minas Tirith, away from Rohan.

And Théoden still questioned why.

***

"Why should we ride to Gondor's aid? Give me one reason!" Théoden was leaning over the table, worry-lines evident.

"Well, there is the agreement our ancestor made when our people were granted this land by Steward Cirion," …omer was quick to assert.

Théoden's hand swept over the map, frown marring his features. "A forgotten agreement from a forgotten time." His eyes slid towards Gamling.

Gamling sighed heavily.

***Since when did 500 years become a forgotten time?***

"They did not come in our time of need. Why should we go to theirs?"

"Sire, we did not call for them." Gamling gently reminded him. "There was no time."

"Denethor would not have come anyway!" Théoden's hand slammed down, covering Gondor with the palm. "If Gandalf is to be believed - and I do believe him - Gondor is losing inch by inch to Sauron and Mordor. Had we lit the beacons, they would not have been able to come."

Aye. That much was true.

"If Minas Tirith falls, Gondor will fall." …omer's hand swept the corner of the map. "And then Sauron will be at our borders."

"Saruman was only a warm-up, a sample, of what Sauron will throw at us." Théoden was simmering on the borders of fury, his teeth set on edge. "We should shore up our defense here- " he pointed, " - and here. What do you think, Gamling?"

***I think I have a headache that would split the whole of the Earth and we will still die...***

"You want to honestly know what I think?"

"No, Gamling! Lie to me!" Théoden growled. "Tell me there isn't a gaping hole in the supposedly impregnable wall of Helm's Deep! Tell me Saruman wasn't in league with Sauron! Tell me the whole of the Earth isn't going to fall into an abyss! Tell me the One Ring hasn't been found and doesn't lie in the hands of a Hobbit trying to sneak into the snake pit!" The fire glowed eerily behind the King of Rohan. "Tell me my son isn't dead! Tell me, it's all a lie!"

Gamling never batted an eye. " I cannot tell you any of that, sire."

Théoden hung his head, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, my friend. Of course, I want to know what you truly think."

Gamling leaned over the table and looked over the map of Middle Earth. "I think we should go to Gondor's aid, m'Lord."

Théoden grimaced. "You, as well? What is it with the young?" he asked the air. "All you think of is glory and war-"

"I am not so young, sire." While Gamling's voice was quiet, the steel underneath was obvious. "At least, not as young as yon hothead." He nodded to …omer, who responded with a smirk. "There is the promise, yes, but beyond that, we don't have the strength to withstand Sauron's forces. If we join with Gondor, we stand a better chance of defeating him."

Théoden took in his words, mulling them over. "If we fall in Gondor, who will protect Rohan? Women? Children? That pile of homeless refugees on the hill?"

Gamling and …omer looked at each other before Gamling answered. "If Gondor falls, who will aid us? We will fall." He finally looked at Théoden. "We must aid Gondor to give Rohan a chance."

There was no sound save that of the crackling fire in the hearth.

"Then we are agreed." Théoden exhaled. "If Gondor calls for aid, Rohan will answer."

"Aye! To war and glory!" …omer jovially raised his tankard, only to be smacked in the back of the head by Gamling. …omer rubbed his head, as he watched the elder Horse Lord wander to the window.

"Any thoughts on what to do with our refugees?"

Gamling did not acknowledge Théoden's question for several moments. Finally, he shook his head. "Nay. Not a one."

For a time, the three went over the maps, questioning, estimating the numbers of Riders in each area, each part of the Mark. The sun rose higher and continued its fiery march across the sky, as they took their midday meal sequestered in Théoden's chambers.

They did not hear Eowyn slip into the chambers.

She stood against the door watching the three men plan, exchange and argue out ideas. Théoden was the first to notice her.

"Eowyn, do you need something?" His voice was tired and weary.

Eowyn looked nervously at her brother and then back to her uncle. "I... it's Aefre, Uncle."

*** That Woman? Now what has she done? Did she set the bed on fire with some strange woman's ritual...***

Théoden stood tall, brow knitted. "Is she ill?"

"Nay, it's-" she looked again to …omer, then to Gamling, before looking at Théoden again. "-she went for a ride this morning and she hasn't re-"

*** Now that you are up, I can go for a ride-***

"-turned. This is very unlike her."

"She left the city walls?"

Eowyn had the audacity to look put out at Gamling. "Like you, m'lord, she likes to exercise her horse and feel the freedom of the wind from time to time. It is difficult to do that within the walls!"

"She rides?"

***Ooh. Did I just say that out loud?***

Apparently, he had. Eowyn was looking at him in disgust.

"Yes, she rides." Théoden broke the silence with a humorous spirit. "Like the wind, as I recall." He smiled fondly. "In her younger days, she was a fierce Shield Maiden and she wielded a wicked morningstar!"

"Morningstar, Shield Maiden or fast rider, I care not!" Eowyn stated emphatically. "She is several hours overdue and I'm worried!"

…omer scrunched his face in thought. "Firefoot is nursing a stone bruise. Gamling, you are a better tracker than I. Do you mind hunting down our errant Lady?"

***yesyesyeshothothotsweeeethothothot***

"Is there no one else?" he asked dryly.

Théoden looked from brother to sister and then back to Gamling. "He is right. You are the better tracker. Go on with you. You'll find her fast enough and, I daresay, you will blister her ears for straying too far."

***That's not all I want to blister***

Gamling pulled himself from the window. He pinched his nose in effort to stave off his headache. "Can someone tell me what her horse looks like?"

Eowyn was smiling in relief. "Yes, yes! Adenydd is a dapple grey mare. She looks dainty, but she isn't. She has a-"

"Black, wing marking across her rump?"

***I'm being set up. I know it! I just know-***

Eowyn had brightened. "Yes! You've seen her?"

***-know... KNEW it! I knew it! Seen her, my eye! My stallion is in love with her...***

"A time or two. I'm sure I'll recognize her. Anything else?" Getting negative head shakes, Gamling left, scowling, fuming, -

***...hunt down the little vixen, running me on a wild goose chase, gone off to Béma knows where, teach her a lesson she soon won't forget...***

- and feeling a little predatory.

***

The door whispered shut behind the man and Théoden held his hand up to ensure silence. They listened to the thud of Gamling's boots die away as he walked down the hallway. As the last footfall faded away, Théoden pinned the siblings with an eagle eye.

"You two are pathetic! As obvious as the day is long! Amateurs! Both of you!"

"Uncle, I'm shocked." Eowyn retorted airily. "Why, I have no idea-"

"No idea? Let me guess!" Théoden advanced on his niece, both surprising and shocking her with his agile grace. "You allowed Aefre a free day, a rare day off. You probably loaded her with a healthy basket of foodstuffs - enough to feed her and an angry Rider and much too much wine!" Théoden had her backed against a wall. "Tell me, was she hard to convince?"

Eowyn's eyes darted back and forth between her uncle and her brother.

"Was. She. Hard. To-"

"Oh, you might as well tell him!" …omer huffed.

"I reminded her it had been some time since she truly took time to exercise her horse."

"Eowyn, it is not wholly safe outside the city walls! It is bad enough I have a tented city of refugees that is guarded around the clock. It is not safe - to allow a lady to roam freely is inexcusable!"

"I know that!" Eowyn retorted. "I told her to stay in sight of the walls!" She fidgeted under her uncle's glare. "She's not been gone *that* long."

Théoden growled. It was not a pretty sound.

Eowyn fidgeted more.

"Well... well... it was his-" she flung out an accusatory finger at …omer, " -idea!"

"I think I'll go check on Firefoot." …omer made to rise from his seat.

"You'll do no such thing!" Théoden roared. "Sit!"

…omer sat back down with an audible ‘plop'.

"You are a Marshal of the Riddermark and my heir! Béma forbid that such a one would stoop to such depths of childish games!" Théoden stalked a path around the table, hands behind his back. "Do you think they need that much help?"

Both siblings looked at each other, mumbling partial sentences that Théoden was able to grab bits and pieces of.

"She is a warm, caring person."

"He is quiet and seems to be introverted at times."

"-always a kind word-"

"-value and trust his leadership qualities and his friendship-"

"-been alone for four years-"

"-seen stallions covering mares with more romantic skills-"

"-she can be rather prickly-"

"-has been alone for some years-"

"-has a rather sharp tongue-"

"-is a demanding taskmaster-"

"-can be a bit... bossy-"

"-men have great respect for his-"

"-has put a serving girl or two in their place-"

"-he is-"

" - she is -"

"Cease!" Théoden was pressing his fingertips to his forehead with his eyes tightly shut. "In essence, they are both independent, strong-willed, respected individuals who have been alone for far too long."

Eowyn nodded in embarrassment while …omer merely shrugged.

"Well, let's hope Gamling doesn't kill her when he finds her. I can't believe you urged her to leave the walls!"

"And why not?" Eowyn retorted. "It is all right for Gamling or any of the men to exercise their animals and breathe the air, but for a woman, it is not?"

"Eowyn-"

"Aefre is a woman!" …omer explained patiently as if to a small child. "She isn't capable of defending hers-... OW!" The Marshal recoiled away from her, holding his arm, where his sister had punched him hard. "You are so mean to me. Uncle!" he whined peevishly to Théoden, "she *hit* me! She is always mean to me! Will you beat her?"

"No." Théoden's upper lip had started to twitch.

"Can I beat her?"

"You?" Eowyn screeched. "Beat me? Why I'll knock you senseless, not that that would be difficult!"

"I can still dunk you into the horse trough!"

"No, you can't!"

"Yes," …omer reiterated and he stood as if to further his point, "I can!" He glanced quickly at Théoden. "I can, can't I?"

Théoden looked from one to the other; to the fierce Rider with his boyish charm, to his overly-serious sister. For all of …omer's playfulness and constant pestering of his sister, it was well known his deep love and staunch protection of her. Théoden's grin was amazingly similar to his nephew's. "Yes, you may." He heard Eowyn gasp in indignation. "After-" he wagged his finger, "you have dunked yourself for hatching this scheme!"

…omer's triumphant grin quickly dissipated. "Well, that certainly took the fun out of it!" he complained, clearly disappointed at being bested.

Théoden looked at the siblings sternly. "Leave the two of them to me. Perhaps the two of you will watch and learn from a master at matchmaking!" The King rubbed his hands in glee. "It's been a long time since I set anyone up!" he murmured.

"You?"

"You?"

"Aye me! Who do you think set your parents up? Now, out with you both!" He thumbed them in the direction of the door and moved towards the window. "I need to mull over a few things."

While Eowyn and …omer might have thought their uncle was contemplating the hillside of refugees, he was closely watching the lone rider, galloping off towards the west.

***Ah, the fox has caught scent of his prey.***

***
tbc
***
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