***
***Damn it! DAMN IT! Foolish, stupid woman!***
Gamling saddled Dréogan with a few quick, economical movements; the stallion cooperating for a change. He seemed over-excited, stomping and chomping at the bit to move, to hurry.
"Aye, we're in search of your lady mare and that foolish, irresponsible witch that rides her! She won't be able to sit her horse, much less ride her when I finish with her!" He swung up into the saddle, yelling at those on foot to make way, effectively clearing the path to the front gates.
As soon as they passed the sentinel, Gamling proceeded to search the ground for anything that would indicate which direction Aefre might have taken. The ground in front of the gate was riddled with hoof prints, showing the comings and goings of Riders in and out of the gate to the city. As he neared the bottom of the hill, the tracks spread out, became clearer. There: heavy hooves, unshod, carrying a heavy burden towards Gondor; that would be Shadowfax, carrying Gandalf and that brainless, happy-go-lucky Pippin of a Hobbit. Gamling zig-zagged, circled, looking, hard hooves here, no - deep prints, someone walking, no... not the ones... delicate, barely in the...
Ah. Hoof prints, barely etched in the dirt, as if the mare were...
***...flying. She rides like the wind...***
Dréogan appeared to agree with the Horse Lord. The chestnut stallion circled, snorting in horse-fury, before straining at the reins in the direction of where she had roamed.
Gamling peered into the horizon, following her trail.
She was nowhere in sight.
He squinted, trying to force his vision further.
Still, nowhere to be seen.
***If she lives, I shall kill her!***
He pointed Dréogan in the direction of the hoof prints and growling a "H'yah!", the warhorse gathered himself and broke into a gallop. He allowed the steed his head, Dréogan faithfully following the single trail of light footprints, galloping thunderous foot falls for the better part of an hour. Gamling's irritability waned to concern, which boiled into rage, and dropped back to bothersome worry. He crossed a stream, grateful for the three solid prints showing she had gone straight across rather than follow along the side of the water. For another half hour, he followed the recently beaten trail, his emotions swinging from one side to the other. Dréogan did not slow, nor tire; indeed he seemed to be as anxious, ill-tempered, and as focused on his task as his rider. They climbed and topped a small rise, Gamling searching, looking...
He felt the horse inhale, so he was not surprised at the strength and volume of the shrill bray that carried on the air. Gamling *was* surprised however, at the answering whinny. Without hesitation, the stallion pulled at the reins, tossing his head and calling back. For the first time in almost 40 years of hard riding, Gamling found himself hanging on for dear life, as the stallion he had raised from a colt and had personally broken and trained, dashed over a glen and through a small thicket. Coming over yet another small hill, Gamling saw a small copse of trees, a grey mare waiting demurely to the side. Dréogan knew where he was going and no mere Rider was going to tell him otherwise and gainsay him. He barreled up, coming to a crashing halt in front of the dainty mare. With unbelievable gentleness, the stallion nuzzled Adenydd, giving her a very thorough looking over.
***Well, I'm glad you found your quarry. Hopefully, mine will be as easy...***
Gamling dismounted, making sure the reins were looped loosely to the pommel, giving the stallion enough maneuvering room to graze without getting entangled. He looked around, curious as to why there was no sound, no Aefre demanding why *he* was out here, interrupting her solitude. There was no bird song, no wind rustling through the low grass. He started to call out for her, but had second thoughts. The fine hairs of his neck were standing on end and as he headed for the grove of trees, he quietly withdrew his sword from his scabbard.
The area was heavily shaded, and it took a moment for the Horse Lord's eyes to adjust. He finally saw her, reclining on the ground, a large rucksack by her side. An empty wineskin lay nearby. She was leaning against a tree and appeared to be...
Asleep.
***...asleep? She's asleep? Stupidstupidmagicfingersstupidwoman...in the middle of nowhere where anyone or anything could and would quietly slip in and garrote...***
Gamling narrowed his eyes, anger at her stupidity flaring at an incredible speed. He watched her, breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. She almost looked innocent, young even, lying in the shadows.
***I should teach her a lesson she won't soon forget!***
Resheathing his sword, and grinning diabolically, he quietly unbuckled his sword belt and laying it to the ground, dropped to his knees. In silence, he crawled over the short distance to her reclining figure, straddling her.
***... ah, Béma, such a delectable mouth when it is not heaping abuse on my head...***
He focused closely on his prey, covering her, leaning in closer... closer...
...feeling the sharp blade of a knife flick against his Adam's apple...
"Swallow, Orc. It would please me."
Instead he pulled slightly away, only to feel her not so dainty or tiny foot, lodged firmly in his masculine parts.
***bleeding to death or squealing orders to Théoden's men like a girl for the rest of my days. Decisions, decisions...***
"Aefre," he whispered hoarsely, trying not to swallow. "If I were an Orc, you would be dead, despite your paltry weapon." Her foot lodged itself higher and her blade pressed a little further, causing his voice to rise an octave. "My mistake. Not so paltry." Her dark, glittering eyes bore holes in his azure ones for a moment before the blade was withdrawn and her foot removed from the warmth of his crotch. She laid the dirk to the side.
"You Riders, I swear, you're all.... OOF!..." As soon as he had ascertained her knife was unobtainable, Gamling grabbed her and rolled away from the knife and the tree, planting her firmly on her back and pinning her with his body. None too gently, he shoved his knee between her thighs, forcing her to straddle him and he cradled himself at their juncture.
***.... Béma, aah... she fits so.... sweetsweetSWEETthing...***
Thinking ahead, he had grabbed her wrists and pinned them to both sides of her head. She was wriggling , struggling, the movement causing his still - working parts to respond in an expected manner. She opened her mouth to yell...
"Do not do that, My Lady."
She inhaled.
"I will not harm you! You have my word!"
Aefre's mouth snapped shut, but she continued to struggle, making him more uncomfortable.
"Woman!" he gritted, "You are making it worse!"
Aefre stopped moving and hissed, "Then release me!"
He thrust once, hard, shoving her further into the soft dirt. "Do you have any idea how much danger you are in?"
"From you? You said you wouldn't harm me!"
Gamling rolled his eyes in exasperated fury. " ‘Tis bad enough I'm sent to hunt down an errant child-"
"Errant child? Eowyn bid me-"
" ‘Tis worse that I find you far from the protective sight and reach of Edoras-"
" - to go and enjoy the afternoon -"
"Furthermore, I find you deep in a bosky dell of trees, with a drained wineskin, sleeping-"
"- she even packed me a generous lunch and much too much wine-"
"-only to have you pull a knife on me!" He was roaring to be heard over her feeble protestations, "and stick your foot in my most tender parts!-"
"-only to hear you and that gargantuan beast you call a horse, come barreling in on my solitude and-"
"-when all I wanted to do was kiss you!"
"-and barge in here like.... what?"
***Béma!***
Gamling's voice dropped, relieved he had finally stopped her tirade. "All I wanted to do was kiss you."
"Oh."
***Finally! Hothothotsweetthing with the mouth so hothothothot...***
"Well, why didn't you say so?" Aefre raised herself up and bussed him quickly on the mouth, lips passing flatly over the corner of his mouth. "Now, will you be so kind as to let me up?"
***Béma, yesyesyes Sweet oh yes wait what the-***
Gamling reared up, looking down at his apparently - pleased - with - herself - prey, still pinned beneath him. "Oh," he whispered, "that was not a kiss."
Aefre's expectant look fell. "It wasn't?" Her eyes narrowed in consternation. "My lips met your lips. That's a kiss."
***Off guard, off guard... got you, you little...***
Gamling was smiling and shaking his head. "Nay. That was most certainly not a kiss." He lowered his head, breath wafting across her cheek. "This is."
He hovered for a second, long enough for her to gasp, before descending, canvassing-
*Sweetsweethothothot oh Béma soo hothot...***
She tasted of the wine she had drunk earlier and when her tongue touched his...
*hothothot not supposed to be this good aaaah sweet pleaseplease oh please hothothot***
Gamling growled, deepening the kiss. His arms went around her like whipcords,
*** soft aaaaaaah***
pulling her close into him. Her fingers threaded their way through his long hair , fingers...
***sweetsweet magicfingers oh hotfire...***
... molding herself to him, legs caressing his. The Horse Lord's hands moved from her back to the soft, generous curve of her backside and nudging her into his-
-feeling her inhale sharply, stiffening, and pull away -
***Wha...***
Hands that had been twirling in the long locks of his hair turned loose and pressed themselves against his chest. He released her mouth in confusion.
"Aefre?" He was amazed at how controlled he sounded.
"Please let me go."
He loosened his grip on her slightly. "Aefre? Are you all right?"
"Yes... no... please, allow me up." She had the look of a cornered hart. Gamling rolled over, turning her loose -
***Béma's balls... so close, so very close...***
- and watched her scramble away, pushing herself to her feet. Both hands went to her eyes and he heard her mumble hoarsely, "I'm sorry, so sorry," before she plunged through the brush and back into the sunlit field.
His body was screaming in frustration.
***She's sorry? Tell that to my-***
Ah. It's no use. Something had scared her and he could either find out what it was or walk away. He pushed himself up and dusted off his tunic, plucking a leaf from between his shoulder armor and buckle. He peered through the brush to see her standing just at the edge, hands on her hips. She was breathing heavily and Gamling wondered what had startled her... frightened her. Making sure everything was back in place,
***including m'lord Not-so-Happy...***
Gamling made much noise, and walked up behind her.
"My Lady, I offer my apologies."
"No, no." She barely looked over her shoulder. " ‘Tis my fault." She was wringing her hands now. Gamling had never seen her look so agitated. He tentatively put his hand on her shoulders and felt a convulsing sigh.
"I did not mean to frighten you."
***Liar! Yes you did mean to...***
She was quiet for a moment before she responded. "You didn't frighten me. I frighten me." He waited for her to continue, the silence in between maddening, nerve - wracking. "It's been a long time since my husband died, and the only man to show the slightest interest in me took my home." Beneath the loose folds of her dress, he saw her shuffling her foot nervously in the grass. "You caught me off guard, Gamling."
Although he gloried in the feeling of victory, it angered him that she openly admitted that his ploy had succeeded. Instead of confirming that she returned his feelings, more questions had been raised. It was obvious to him, that she and Eowyn had planned this little cozy tea party; and now she would play coy after arousing more than his interest? "I caught you off guard?" He spun her around, and grabbing her chin, he forced her to look up at him. "I beg to differ with you, My Lady! ‘Tis you who have led me on a wild goose chase," her jaw dropped, " flattered my person at every turn -"
"I did no such thing!" she sputtered.
"Nay? You have a nicely turned ankle for a man," he mimicked her in a nauseatingly high - pitched voice. Both hands went to his hips and he wagged his head mockingly. "I know women who would kill for your hair and you treat it like a curtain!"
"You are a bore, an idiot,-"
"You tried to look at my person in the bed!"
***Aha! Get yourself out of that one, my lady poor pitiful me!***
"I did NOT peek at you in the bed!" Oh, but she was indignant, and red in the face to boot. "I was joking with you, and," she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, her fists white knuckled and beating the air uselessly at her side, "you WERE covered up! Besides, I saw you in the bath in all your Horse Lord glory, if you will recall!"
***oh. That's right. I forgot...***
With the swiftness of an experienced master tactician, Gamling quickly changed direction and tone. "Regardless, you purposely plotted with Eowyn to drag me out here, away from prying eyes. You said yourself that you have more food and wine than you would need!"
***Take that!***
Her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped an octave. "You think I did this a-purpose? To get you out here to...
"Aye, My Lady!"
She was growling, and it was NOT a pretty sound. She jabbed her finger in his face. "You are such a man!"
"Thank you for noticing, My Lady."
Her finger had never left his face. "You think you know it all and you know nothing!"
Gamling was working hard to follow her finger. "Nothing? Are you sure?"
"Positive! I have worked hard, ensuring your room was habitable, and removing the stench, the leavings of that... that..."
"Cretin?"
"...that... don't interrupt me!... odoriferous creature, seeing to your comfort. Eowyn was kind enough to allow me the afternoon free. I'm sorry you were sent on a wild goose chase, but I assure you I am quite capable of taking care of myself. …omer even checked Adenydd's hooves and shoes for me and told me-"
"Wait!" Gamling caught her finger and held it in a firm, but gentle grip. "…omer, the king's nephew, checked your horse himself?"
She jerked her finger from his grasp. "There is only one …omer that I know of and yes, he did, this morning before you pulled your lazy arse out of the bed!" She was rubbing the offended digit. "He even told me about this place!" She turned her back to him and stalked off. "I was having a lovely afternoon before you arrived. And to think, I liked you!" She moved back into the small knot of trees.
Gamling felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. Eowyn AND …omer plotting and planning and Aefre all unwitting? Oh, this stank worse than Grima Wormtongue's furs!
***dumb dumb DUMB you messed up no more magicfingers or sweetsweetsweet mouth...***
Well, if anything, she did deserve an apology, an explanation. If the Siblings Terrible were in league, they would soon have Gamling and Aefre at each other's throats-
*** You were already at her throat, dimwit!***
He followed her into the cluster of trees and watched as she resheathed her small knife.
***Ridiculous woman! Armed with a knife!***
***... and one evilly wicked foot - very well planted...***
"Aefre?"
"Go away!"
She was now angrily shoving the wineskin back in the large rucksack that lay nearby. He walked up behind her. "Aefre..."
"Leave me a... lone!" She raked an arm across her face.
***You pile of Orc dung! You made her...***
Gamling's self-loathing reached an unaccustomed high point, rivaling the feeling he had when at the wise old age of five, he had decided to show his father a thing or two and ride his big warhorse. Despite being told firmly to leave the cantankerous animal alone, Gamling climbed aboard anyway and promptly found himself flying through the air and landing on his arse at his father's feet. He couldn't remember what hurt his arse worse; landing hard on it, or after his father had beaten it.
His pride had been fairly wounded as well.
Another lesson his father had drummed into him was that a Rider did not make a woman cry. That was the job of Orcs and death. Mentally berating himself would become a popular pastime if he didn't at least try to offer an explanation.
"Aefre?"
"What part of ‘go away' do you not understand?"
He reached over her and gently removed the rucksack from her grasp. "I have made an error. At least allow me to apologize." Holding the rucksack in one hand, he extended his other to help her from the ground.
She begrudgingly allowed him to lift her from the shaded floor. "A Rider who apologizes? I should be so blessed," she mumbled.
***And only I would be saddled with a woman whose mouth is more tart than the those of the whores at the brothel!***
"It appears, My Lady," this time the honorific did not seem to be as mocking as before, "that not only do you cause me to be unusually verbal," (she snorted at that), "but that we are the victims of the machinations of the children of …omund."
"Their victims?" Aefre snarled. "What in all of Arda are you talking about? Eowyn has been nothing but kind to me and …omer has -"
" - measured the span of your hips with his hands."
The Horse Lord was favored with the sight of her jaw hanging agape.
***Hmmm, must tuck that one away when I want to silence that constantly moving mouth...***
"He what?"
***Knew it! Too good to last...***
He cocked an eyebrow.
"That... that... brat!" She intended to continue, but the Rider held up a leather - clad hand, palm out.
"That brat is too old to do what he does. And when he and his sister set their minds together, they are damn near dangerous."
Everything he had said came crashing in on Aefre's senses. "Those two are setting us up!" she hissed, ignoring his hand to be silent.
***oh, finally smart sweetsweet smart thing...***
Deliberately, he removed his gloves and tucked them into his belt. His hand came up to her face slowly; his fingers moved, his thumbs brushing errant tears from her face, before going back to slowly stroke her lower lip. It sent chills down her spine and she tried to ignore the feeling. "Béma's Great Steed! I'm too old for these sorts of shenanigans!"
"Ah yes, veritable ancient crone you are..."
***... did I just say that aloud?...***
Anger that had been focused on Théoden's wards was now directed at him. In a strange way , he reveled in the heat of it. "Of course," he ambled on, deftly changing the subject, "if Théoden hears of their antics, he will take over, and then we will be truly doomed."
***... look contrite, saddened, frown more, awfulawful sad sweetsweet smart...***
"Well, I have news for them..."
***Argh! The wagging finger again! Bite it! Quickly!***
"I will choose with whom I will spend time-"
***Aye, you will, as long as it's with me... where did THAT come from?***
"-I'm not some light skirt to chase or dally with!"
***... oh noooo, not a bit...***
"Who do they think they are, anyway?"
***uhm... royal family?***
Oh, she was in a fine huff , totally unaware of Gamling's sniggering thoughts. The finger had stopped its dance, and she was now using it to tap her lip thoughtfully.
"I wonder what on Arda possessed them to pull such a trick as this?"
Gamling tossed the rucksack down and then followed its path as well, settling heavily on the ground. He backed up to the tree and grabbed the bag. "They don't need a reason." He opened it and began to pull out food; huge sandwiches made with beef and spicy mustard, on crusty fresh bread...
***...my favorite...***
"Aefre, are you fond of roasted beef with mustard?"
She made a moue. "No. Not really. I was quite shocked to find it, as I had told Eowyn I preferred roast fowl. She had the rucksack..." Dawning understanding slowed her speech. "Béma, have we been-"
"- set up." Gamling finished for her. He dug through the sack, pulling out one... two... three wineskins-
*** I won't be able to function! Where were their brains?***
- and what appeared to be two small roast quail, wrapped in several linens. "You might as well sit down and enjoy the food." He thrust the fowl in her direction and after she took it, he dug through the rucksack some more, finding apples and carrots. Putting them back, he contemplated his sandwich, turning it as if to decide on the best point of attack. "I'm starving and I'm going to be awhile eating." He dusted away the few errant pinecones away next to him and gestured for her to sit. Aefre made sure to be out of arm's reach as she sat down, and if she noticed Gamling's grin, she said nothing to him. They ate in comfortable silence, listening to...
Nothing. No sound, no birds, no insects. Silence.
"Aefre?"
"Hmm hmmm?"
He waited a second before continuing. "How long were you here before I ... invaded your solitude?" He watched her chew thoughtfully for a few seconds before she swallowed and wiped her bottom lip with her thumb.
"Half an hour. Maybe a touch more."
Gamling finished what he had decided was his sandwiches and grabbing a wineskin, pulled his knees up and sat propped against the tree, with his chin in hand, watching between trees as Dréogan and Adenydd rubbed their necks together.
*** So Eowyn sent me as soon as the dust had settled. She's found, she's fine. She feels manipulated, I feel manipulated, damnation, we are being manipulated, Théoden's refugees...Béma, what to do, does she want this... do I want... no... Béma, someone needs to take a consensus of the refugees, has anyone done that?... kiss her again, no...***
"Gamling?"
His response was simply to look at her and shove a wineskin at her.
***... not pretty, not young, not ugly, not old, ... just... something...***
"Have …omer and Eowyn... done this before? You know... matchmaking completely happy people?"
***Ah. What has happened to my assertive, self-assured Lady?***
"Aye."
"Oh."
Silence.
"How often?"
"Seven times."
"Oh."
He waited for the next obvious question. It wasn't long in coming.
"Any... successful-"
"All of them."
"Béma!"
"Don't swear!" he admonished mockingly.
She took a long pull from the wineskin. A small drop trickled from the side of her mouth. Despite the beef and spicy sauce he had just eaten, he could still taste the lingering savor of their kiss. It took every ounce of self - control he had to keep from leaning over and licking the wayward bead from her lip.
"What are we going to do?"
A disdainful look crossed Gamling's face as he emptied the last of the wine from the skin. "We who?"
Aefre grabbed the empted wineskin from his hands. "We *we*, that's who! According to you, they have a perfect record. I don't know about you, but I am not looking for a husband! And I certainly don't want two younglings who know nothing of love trying to arrange my love life!" Aefre shoved what was left of the food and wine back into the rucksack. She stood up and turned on her heel, leaving him sitting on the ground.
He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his sword belt, and slinging it on. With long strides, he caught up with her as they exited the small grove. "What do you want, Aefre?"
She scanned the horizon, eyes lingering on the not quite yet ready to set sun. "What do I want?" she stated wistfully. "What I want is... I want to be independent again. I want a way to live in my house again. I want... I want... what I want is..."
"Yes?"
She was squinting over the horizon. "What I want to know is, where are our horses?"
***
tbc
***