The Sweetest Thing
Chapter 07
I’ve loved these days
“What? You don’t… what?” Elfhelm looked at the woman in disbelief.
Lýðrest bowed up. Why did this Rider make her feel a finger tall? And how in fekking Mordor did she manage to become married to him? And how dare he… yell at her in front of a company of Riders, which in all honesty, made her feel smaller than a finger tall?
“Can we fekking well discuss this later?” She leaned towards him, her face snarled up in a similar scowl. She completely missed that Gamhelm was leaning on his saddlehorn, the lower part of his face hidden behind his hand, totally covering the snicker that so rarely fell from his features, but for some odd reason, had been very prevalent during his trip here. He looked over at his son, whose mouth hung agape in wonder.
“NO! We can’t discuss it later!” A rare Elfhelm temper was quickly becoming full-blown. “I have to figure out a way to get you to the garrison if you don’t ride!” Both hands were on his hips. “We’ve got to fix this,” he spat to no one in particular.
“Might I make a suggestion?” Gamhelm quietly responded. Two furious sets of eyes looked up at him. “We will be returning in ten days to aid in returning Gauwyn back home as well to as ensure our message where your men were attacked was received.” The Marshal’s eyes had darkened to color of a dark storm. “In that time, teach her.”
“But-”
The older Rider put up his hand to stop her tirade. “I am aware that the horses here are nags and I saw no usable wagons. We will bring a mount for Gauwyn, a packhorse for your household goods and an extra mare for you. I will chose her myself, ensure she is gentle and easy-going.”
“But-”
“Elfhelm’s stallion is well trained and should be willing to abide a different rider for a short time.”
“But-”
“Look girl,” Gamling interrupted. It was clear he was disgusted that the conversation was even taking place and he was still infuriated that his friend was now in a marriage not of his making to someone he considered beneath him. “If you walk, it will take us forever. The other alternative is slung over like the saddle of a pack horse!” He leered at the barmaid. “Although I’m sure your husband will enjoy the sight of your arse bouncing around in the air!”
Lýðrest’s gasp was quite audible. “Why you fekking warg arse-wipe-”
She was cut short by the sound of a solid thump caused by the flat of Hæfern’s hand meeting the back of Gamling’s skull. “Y’might be the Marshal’s son and I like you well enough, but she is still my niece!” He nudged his horse forward. “Insult her again, I’ll kick your arse.”
The two Riders glared at each other, unseeing that their Marshal frowned upon both of them. Gamhelm finally shook his head and returned his attention to the angry young woman on the ground. “As poorly worded as it was, my son is correct. The alternative is either walk or-”
“Please!” Lýðrest stepped forward, towards the Marshal’s horse. “It’s damned embarrassing!”
“Well, you should be embarrassed,” Gamling hissed back. “You’re supposedly Rohirrim!”
Lýðrest doubled up her fist, but before she could fling herself at the man, Elfhelm’s hand lowered itself on her shoulder, pulling her to him. As she was pulled into his chest, his arm completely went around her upper chest, clasping her safely to him. “Gamling? Shaddup already.”
