A Man of His Word
DC 97 Spank/Discipline
Rider - 6 years after the birth of Léoma…
Rated PG
~~~...~~~
*Today, that daughter of Gamling's did the most foolish thing! While she deserved what she got, I could not help but silently cheer her on. So brave… so hard-headed. So much her father…
~~~...~~~
Léoma lay on the bed, tears running down hot cheeks. She didn't know what hurt worse, her feelings, her pride, or her butt, where her beloved Da made good on a promise he made her many times if she ever did what she did.
She shouldn't have done it, she knew she shouldn't have, but she just wanted to show… to prove…
There was a knock at her door.
"GO 'WAY!"
A scratching…
"I SAID GOWAY!"
There were voices – she recognized both, but they went away and she buried her head under her pillow, her only company, her guilt.
~~~...~~~
Dréogan was Gamling's beloved warhorse – a more cantankerous creature did not live. He was huge for a horse… well, in Léoma's six summers' eyes, all horses were huge, but her Da's horse was the biggest horse ever!
Alright, Willan's horse was bigger, but that big loveable klutz was too gentle to count! Dréogan snorted fire and flew like the wind…
Okay, Mama's horse, Adenydd was faster, but Mama rarely took Léoma riding with her. Not like Da did. And on Dréogan, one KNEW they were riding, you could feel the stride, could feel his muscles bunch up under your legs. Adenydd was like riding a cloud. Certainly NOT like riding a real horse!
Dréogan liked to mow down orcs and Easterlings. He was mean and the Riders were scared of him. Da was not scared of him, talked to him like a big old baby, yes, he did. It was almost embarrassing how her Da sweet-talked that gigantic, irritable, bad-tempered curmudgeon of a horse…
Sometimes, it was good to listen to Mama get angry. One learned the most amazing words…
But Dréogan… Dréogan was the ultimate horse and Léoma was doing so well with her pony, she just knew she could ride him. Just knew it!
She had been most persistent for some days. "I want to ride the big horse!" she openly declared. "Ponies are for babies and I am not a baby! I am a Shield Maiden!"
"In whose universe?" Her mother snorted.
"Not yet, you aren't," Abéodan grunted.
"Shield Maiden? You?" Haleth openly sneered. (Léoma didn't know who was more disgusting, her younger brothers who ran around terrorizing everyone or Haleth, who thought he knew everything!)
Her Da walked by at that moment, fury emanating from such a little body. "I am so a Shield Maiden!"
Her father continued on and patted her on the head. "Yes, you will be." And kept right on talking to his captain as if she had not said anything.
Obviously, she was going to have to prove to everyone, she was a true Shield Maiden of Rohan and the best way to do it was to ride The Big Horse!
She planned her assault rather neatly. Dréogan was a gigantic steed and saddling him would not be easy. His irritable, unreasonable attitude was well known, so she would need to distract him. So earlier that day, she got a bag of apples, a stool and quietly went into the stallion's stall.
Dréogan looked at her, much as he would a pesky fly. She set the bag of apples in his manger inside the stall and gave him one.
Temporarily distracted, the equine munched away, bits of drooled applesauce making its way into the sawdust. Léoma set the stool next to him. As he finished the first apple, she slid the bridle over his head. "Good boy. You're a good horse," she whispered in his ear, like her Da did.
Next was the saddle. This could be a problem. She shoved another apple in the charger's mouth and then slung the saddle blanket over his back. He was still good with the apple, so up and over went the saddle. She got the back strap knotted properly, gave the stallion another apple and then went to work on the front. The minute she got it cinched, she got another apple.
Even with the stool, she was still too short to climb on, which should have been an indication of things to come, so taking the reins, she took him by the stall door, climbed the gate and swung on over into the saddle.
Dréogan looked at her over his shoulder, distaste clearly seen in those brown eyes. Léoma petted his neck, told him again what a good boy he was and clicked with her tongue, urging him forward. She walked him slowly down the alleyway towards the open door.
Abéodan came in just at that time and jumped back. "Léoma! I don't think-"
"I am fine," she answered as haughtily as a six summers old girl-child could answer.
"Your Da-"
She ignored the Rider and kept riding, chin held high.
She cleared the door.
It was bright day, a sunny day and right now, the world was in the palm of her hand. All sound ceased. She clicked against her teeth again, holding the reins just right and rapped the stallion with her heels. Again, he started at a stately walk, but out of the middle of nowhere, Gamling walked around the corner of the tool shed with Éothain and responded to something the young Captain had said with a whistle.
Dréogan's ears pricked. He KNEW that sound! That was HIS Horse Lord, HIS Rider, HIS Man and yanking hard to the left, he jerked the reins from the little girl's hands and charged the Marshal. He slid to a halt, thrusting his nose in Gamling's face and bucked once, throwing Léoma over his and her father's head. She landed hard on her backside, barely missing the side of the shed and a pitchfork that had been left sitting out.
Gamling quickly threw the now dangling reins over the saddle horn, a signal to Dréogan not to move, and rushed to his daughter's side. He noticed she missed the prongs of the pitchfork by mere finger widths and silently thanked Béma she hadn't landed on it. She was picking herself up, gasping as her breath was knocked out of her.
"Da-" Tears were welling up, a rarity for this child of theirs.
"Are you a-right?" Gamling went down on one knee and turned her, checked her for cuts, bruises, any sign of injury. "You can move? " His hands ran up and down her legs, her back. "Anything feel hurt or broken?"
"No, I-"
Faster than she could inhale, Léoma found herself thrown over her father's knee – her father, her hero, her favoritest person in the world – and learned that he was a man of his word.
When he finished, he jerked her upright. "Now. When I tell you not to ride any horse without permission, you will ask me, won't you!" She nodded yes, bottom lip trembling. "And when I tell you to leave my horse alone, you will, won't you!" She shook her head again.
"Da! Dada… I'm s-s-s-s-s-orrrrrrrry…."
He nodded angrily towards the Hall. "Go to your room. No supper."
Léoma's head hung as low as it could go and she quickly ran off, only to run into her Mother. Big eyes looked up, pleading. Her mother's face was not so stern today, and her eyes held much pity. "Go on with you." Aefre said softly, only between her and her daughter. "You'll get no sympathy from me."
By the time their daughter reached the doors, her crying was echoing all over the courtyard.
Gamling was standing by the time Aefre reached him. "It must have been bad for you to spank her."
He jerked his head towards Dréogan, who was still standing motionlessly, as he had been taught. "Your daughter saddled him and rode him out of the barn as if she were born to! Dréogan saw me, charged up and bucked her over my head. She barely missed the pitchfork." Riders and Riders in training and stable boys were standing around watching the entire exchange, suddenly tried to look busy. Gamling's face turned into a furious snarl. "WHO LEFT THIS PITCHFORK OUT?"
A young Rider spoke up. "It was me, sir. I was using it and my brother called me to help him get a horse to the blacksmith. I didn't think-"
"Aye! You didn't think. Would it have taken you five seconds longer to put it away? Someone almost got killed!"
The Rider knew his punishment before Gamling pronounced it. "I'll muck and dig down the stalls starting tomorrow, sir. It was my fault and I'm glad your daughter didn't get hurt." He took the pitchfork from the furious Marshal, before grinning slightly. "She's got spit, your daughter."
Gamling was looking at the sky, contemplating the clouds, but Aefre recognized he was trying to get his anger under control. Her husband was normally a soft-spoken man and his Riders respected him, but they also feared him and his temper, which even when it raged, was welded like a double-edged sword and well-earned. She threaded her arms through his. "No supper, Gamling? Really. And cook made apple tarts and she loves apple tarts."
He continued to stare at the sky. "I said no dinner. Period." Aefre's shoulders fell. One of the first things they decided when Léoma was little was one would always support the other when it came to discipline. Gamling dropped his head and tucking his finger under his wife's chin, lifting it up so she would look at him. "I didn't say anything about not having an apple tart!" Aefre smiled at that. Her husband, for all of his bravado, was an old softie when it came to his daughter. "Béma, if anything had happened to her… I'll go up to her after she's calmed down."
"She probably thinks you hate her."
"I know." He hugged his wife close. "Had she been thrown even this much to the right…"
"I hate to break up this wedded bliss moment," Éothain snorted jovially, "but I think the two of you need to see this." He motioned them over next to Dréogan. The Captain was standing well back from the notoriously irascible mount of his superior. "Check out the saddle."
Both Gamling and Aefre went to Dréogan's side, inspecting the cinches and knots. "I'll be damned," Gamling whistled low. "She did a good job of it."
"How in Arda did she manage it?" Aefre whispered. She approached the war stallion slowly. Dréogan tolerated her at best, tolerated her because she was Adenydd's Rider and Woman. She ran her hand down and around the straps. "They are very tight. Perfect."
"And here's how she did it!" Abéodan came out of the barn, carrying the stool and what was left of the bag of apples. "She bribed him all the way to the end." He handed the bag to Gamling. The Marshal took it, shaking his head.
"Béma wonders how many she fed him. Ah well, it matters little. Abéodan," Gamling handed the sack to his wife and grabbed the reins, "take Dréogan to the turnstile and put him on it. I doubt she did much damage, but let him walk for an hour or so. Exercise won't kill him." Looking up at the barnyard, he raised his voice, putting stable boys and the garrison back to work, leaving Aefre with her musings.
~~~...~~~
There was another knock at the door. Léoma's face was now swollen with tears and she was hiccupping, something she hated. "GOWAY!" The door opened anyway, her mother's head peeking first before coming completely into the room. The child flung herself back on the bed, her back to her mother. "Lemmelone!"
"Ah, so now you're giving orders as if your mistress of the house… and me your mother. I suppose I should take the tray of tea and other things back to the cook…"
Léoma's head lifted over her shoulder. "Other things?" Girlish curiosity got the better of her.
Aefre set the tray down and with an eyeroll at the darkness of the room, went to the window and threw the curtains back. The sun was going down and Léoma's room caught the best of the late afternoon light. She sat down on the bed and took her daughter's hands. "Ah, let me look at my girl…" she clucked and shook her head. "Just as I thought… red puffed-up eyes, swollen cheeks… well!" She reached over and poured some tea. "I have just the thing for that! Drink this and then…"
Léoma's stomach was growling. "And what?" she took the teacup and began to drink.
"And what? Only the best part!" Aefre's voice was that of a conspirator. "I have cucumber slices for our eyes and that really nasty face paste that feels so good. I think we are both overdue for some girly girl stuff."
Léoma finished her tea and set the empty cup in her lap. "Da hates me."
"No, he doesn't." Aefre took the teacup from her daughter and handed her the first of several apple slices. "This isn't dinner. It's just an apple." While her daughter ate absent-mindedly, Aefre brushed the wild locks from her daughter's face and put it in a clasp. She then picked up the jar and proceeded to daub a cool paste on her cheeks. "He is very disappointed. I am as well, but I expected you to try sooner or later. How many times has he told you and your brothers to leave that crotchety old horse alone? Lift your face." Léoma did so, without speaking. Aefre finished smearing her daughter and tapped her on the shoulder. "Here. Do me."
With a giggle, mother and daughter traded places, Léoma liberally spreading the cucumber goop on her mother, before pronouncing her mother to look as scary as a Dunlending's wife. They dispatched the cucumber slices over their eyes and lay side by side on the bed.
"Can I tell you a story?"
"Da tells stories."
"Da won't tell this story! Your grandmamma told it to me when I was having you! Did you know, when your Da was about the same age as you, he did the same thing you just got in trouble for?"
"Wha!" Léoma turned in her mother's direction, cucumber slices still on her eyes. "NO!"
"Aye." Aefre lay as serenely as possible. "Your grandfather had a big irate stallion and your da decided to ride him too. He made it out of the barn at a trot when he threw your da in front of his da and his men! Landed on his butt."
"Really? Just like me? What did GrandDa do?" Léoma had heard stories of her GrandDa – Gamhelm.
"The same thing your da did to you. Wailed his behind right there in front of everyone once he determined the only damage had been to your da's pride."
Léoma giggled. The two lay there for a short time, relaxing… Aefre mostly listening to her daughter let go and finally calm down.
"Léoma, I was thinking, it has been a long time since you and I took a day to ourselves." She put her arm around her daughter and Léoma cuddled into her. Aefre reveled in the contact; this child was her father through and through. She adored him, preferred his company and no doubt, her comeuppance and sudden set down by him, in front of the men in the barnyard so very hurt her ego and feelings, but Aefre did not blame him a bit. Truth be told, the discipline coming from him would mean more and go further than any punishment Aefre would come up with. Still, when the little girl was sick, she came to Aefre.
"I don't want to go into the stable for a long time." The voice was so wistful and dejected, Aefre's heart clenched for her. "Haleth will make fun. So will everyone else."
"If they do, they will answer to me." Aefre stated matter-of-factly. She squeezed her tight. "Ah, sweetheart, you have to go back sometime and the sooner the better, so here is my plan." She rearranged the pillows and settled in. "I say after breakfast, you and I pack a nice lunch, saddle our horses, and just you and me go for a long, long ride. Just us. I will show you a few Shield Maiden tricks. Who needs those silly boys in the garrison?"
"Yeah. But, I don't have a horse. I have a pony."
"You have a pony, because your legs have not caught up to your brain, Little Thumper!"
Both Aefre and Léoma sat up, lifting their cucumber slices, mouths in perfect 'o's. Gamling stood there; neither had heard him come in. He held three fresh apple tarts. "Aefre, how many times have I told you not to believe every word that comes out of my mother's mouth?" He came further into the room. "Is there enough room in that bed for me?" Both of his girls scooted as far over as they could, room now pretty much gone on the bed. "You weren't at supper, My Lady, and Eadignes and Willan had taken the twins under their wings, so I assumed you were up here feeding your daughter."
"Why is she mine when she has displeased you?"
"Because she is mine when she displeases you!"
"Mama wasn't feeding me!" Léoma put the cucumber slices back on her eyes and leaned back into her pillows. "She brought tea and apple slices. Apple slices aren't dinner!" She thrust a hand out. "Gimme the tart."
"Under one condition. Look at me." Léoma threw her head over in her father's direction, big cucumber slices for eyes. "And take those silly things off so I'll know you are not rolling your eyes at me." She lifted one. "Do you know why I was angry today?"
Her shoulders dropped, bravado again, gone. "Yes, Da. I'm sorry."
"Why did you do it?"
Léoma took both slices from her face and looked at her mother.
"Go on. I'd like to hear as well."
She looked down at her lap, clearly uncomfortable. "Haleth called me a baby. Said I was a baby with a baby horse. I just wanted to prove-"
"That's all you need to say, sweetling. I'll have a chat with Haleth." He handed her the gooey pastry. "Next time someone teases you, you tell me. I'll take care of it." They lay there together, propped up in the bed, eating pastries. They wiped their hands when they were done and Aefre took the cucumber slices and prepared to clean her and her daughter's face.
Gamling watched the proceedings with a sense of disgust. "Why do you blotch that on your face? You both look absurd."
"We are women!" Aefre pronounced.
Léoma was standing on her bed, her fingers pressing on her father's cheek. "It makes your skin smoooooth like a baby's bottom, Da! You could use some here," she touched a cheek, "and here," she touched the other cheek, "and up here," she stroked over his brow, "and especially here," her fingers touched eyes that squinted into the sun too often. She reached around him to the jar on the tray her mother brought up. "I'll do it for you-"
Gamling stepped back, shaking his head. "Oh no, Thumper. If I did all that, my garrison would think I'm too pretty to follow."
"I could name a few places that could use some of that, that your men don't need to see," Aefre whispered.
"Cheeky wench!"
"Aye. There too."
The next day, the barnyard very quietly observed Aefre and her daughter, dressed in tunics and leggings, ride out of the garrison, with a packed hamper. Léoma acknowledged no one – especially Haleth who was cleaning the pigpen. And if anyone noticed that Léoma looked worn out and wind blown when they returned in the afternoon, they said nothing. They simply noted how big her and her mother's smile were.
~~~...~~~
Léoma sat hunched over, arms crossed defiantly over her chest.
"But she said she was proud of you, sis."
"Aye," Using the heel of her hand, she scrubbed away a tear. "Still. It was awful and embarrassing. I had hoped everyone had forgotten."
The older of her two brothers pulled her in and hugged her. "You're braver than I. I was terrified to go near that horse!"
There was a snort behind them. "It was so quiet, I expected to find dead bodies, considering the servants said you three were screaming the walls down." Even at age 76 summers, Éomer King still stood tall and ram-rod straight, an impressive figure that still commanded attention and immediate loyalty. "Instead, I find a wonderful, loving family scene. I would bet both Gamling and Aefre are rolling over in their graves at such familial bliss." Behind him, his diminutive wife and all three spouses and their children peeked around, terror and fear evident on their faces. All three looked up horrified at the large amount of humanity trying to look in to the chambers. Léoma was the first to find her voice.
"Béma, people! We found Mama's diary and we're simply discussing the contents!"
Both of her brothers began nodding.
'Yeah, uh huh…"
"Discussing…"
"Loudly. Very loudly."
The three were now nodding like a bunch of drunken Dunlendings.
Éomer narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure-"
"Sire!" Léoma stated matter-of-factly, "If I were going to kill them, I would have done so, long ago when they were smaller and easier to manhandle."
"True," the youngest smirked at his brother. "She would have smothered us in the cradle."
"Sacrificed us to the Ent-wives," the middle one smirked.
"You're sure?" Éomer looked dubious.
All three smiled innocently, something that made the king quiver in fear. "We will share this after we have gone through it."
"Truly sire," Gamling's look-a-like stated solemnly, "we've decided on the property for the most part. All that's left rides on your decision on who will follow Da as Marshal. This," he nodded to the stack of papers scattered on the floor, "we will share when we are ready, but now, this time is for us. Please understand."
At this pronouncement and plea, Éomer smiled and backed up out of the room. "Grief. I understand grief. I'll leave you to it."
He shut the door.
tbc