My Sweet Thing

Chapter 11

Through the long night

~~~...~~~

"Do you have everything you need?" Lýðrest was by Elfhelm's horse, pretending to hold the bridle while watching him tie his sleeping roll behind his saddle.

The young captain didn't notice the look of worry on his young wife's face. "Roll, cloak, a change of clothes, weapons, tack, three water skins. Yes. That's everything." He tightened the last cinch, holding everything in place before turning to realize that she looked worried.

Scared to death.

"Is something wrong?"

"Fek no!" She tried to look affronted. "Why should something be wrong?" Quickly, she looked down, studying the dust about her feet. "How long will you be gone? Where are you going?"

Comprehending that she was quite frightened at being left alone, Elfhelm smiled before taking her into his arms. She did not resist. "I'll be gone fourteen days, give or take. We are heading north on patrol-"

"Where Gauwyn was injured."

"Aye," he nodded quietly. "There as well. We'll be careful. I doubt they'll try to ambush us again any time soon. And if they try, we'll be ready for them." He didn't tell her of the nasty trap that more than likely killed several of the Dunlendings over a moon past. "I'll be back, don't worry."

"If you die, I don't want to marry Gamling," she muttered. Elfhelm laughed out loud at that, grateful he was the only one who heard her. "What am I supposed to do while you're gone?" Elfhelm wondered if she were aware her arms were around him, holding him tight.

"Aelwydd says she's trained you to be my clerk." Lýðrest nodded. "So you will keep up with my paperwork, the payroll and such. You know how that works."

"Aye. They have to have their marks and the engraving on the back tells how much they get. If they try to chew me up for more or don't have their mark, I'm to get Aelwydd or Gamhelm."

"Very good. I have rotations already scheduled, so you simply have to post them. If I'm not back in time, simply repeat them. Make sure the barracks has food and there is plenty of feed for the horses for those under my command."

"Just like the tavern."

"Just like the tavern," he agreed. Aelwydd said she had a quick eye and mind. "Ask Aelwydd or Gamhelm if you have any questions. Gauwyn is starting to work his sword arm and ride again. You are to work with him. That includes riding." She snarled at that. Elfhelm tucked his finger under her chin and lifted it. "Do it. Don't make me spank you when I get home. In the evening, you're to go to the tavern my mother runs and help her. The work should be familiar to you and she could use the help, I'm sure. It will keep you busy and I'll be home before you know it." He stared at her for what seemed forever, watching her eyes mist up. After a moment, he leaned down, kissing her deeply, his tongue delving into her mouth and his hand holding the back of her head. She allowed him to plunder her, before pulling back when the company began to wolf whistle and demand they just get a room. He broke off the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. "Miss me?"

"Like a bleeding flea – infested quilt," she muttered. "At least I'll get some sleep without you snoring like a damned thunderstorm in my ear."

"Hæfern should be back from Aldburg next week. The two of you can sit around and swear to your heart's content. If I see your da, I'll tell him you're well." She nodded morosely. He kissed her again.

"Come on, can we just leave?" Cælin was up in years, working on his third wife and romance was totally lost on the man. Elfhelm openly wondered why he didn't retire. "Because I love to bed my wife. I don't love her cooking," was the oft-repeated excuse. He said that about all three of his wives.

Reluctantly, Elfhelm turned her loose and mounted up. He looked back as the company turned the corner, pleased she still stood where he left her, watching. Maybe this separation would do the trick and he would get lucky before the second moon was up.

Neither one of them were aware of the jealous, angry eyes that watched the tender exchange or the departure.

~~~…~~~

True to Elfhelm's promise, Aelwydd and Hereswið kept Lýðrest extremely busy. She rose early and fell into bed every night, exhausted, her arms wrapped around Elfhelm's pillow. The payroll came in and dividing and distributing it was a taxing, headache-inducing process. Several of the younger Riders did attempt to garner extra coppers from the young woman, but soon learned that she was smarter than they were. Not only that, she was evidently allowed and capable of setting their garrison responsibilities during her husband's absence and the attempt to collect additional pay only acquired them unsavory chores, such as cleaning the stalls like stable boys. One particularly obstinate fellow found himself cleaning the Marshal's pigpen, much to the amusement of his fellow Riders.

Most afternoons found her in the yards with the young women, practicing, training their own sword skills. She openly disliked the training and was rather vocal to Gauwyn when the two of them went riding afterwards.

"I don't understand," she griped the afternoon after Elfhelm left for patrol. "I don't see any reason why I need to learn to fekking fight with a sword, a knife, or a big stick!"

Gauwyn smiled. He ignored her earthy language, something his mother despaired of as her daughters were enamored of Lýðrest's command of such filth. "Imagine you could have run Hucohun through."

"That would work."

"Aye." He stretched, painfully, his side giving him fits.

They tended to stay close to the garrison; Gauwyn working newly knitted muscle. It was whispered he would limp for the rest of his life. Lýðrest felt badly about that, but she had done the best she could. He didn't seem to hold it against her.

When Hæfern returned, he took over Lýðrest's sword training, taking it very serious indeed.

"Don't know why I didn't teach you this, myself," he muttered thickly, backing her into a corner. When she reached it, she lashed out, backing him back into the middle of the yard. Every other thrust was punctuated with a curse that made most of the yard's occupants' hair stand up on the back of their necks. One particular whack would definitely leave a bruise on the older Rider's arm for sure.

"Aye," she responded, concentrating on his sword arm. "I could have killed Hucohun and not been put this stupid arrangement!"

Hæfern dropped to his knee, point of the practice sword to the ground and effectively pausing the fight. "Do you really think that?" his head cocked to the side.

"Of course, I do!"

"Think, girl. You know better."

Truthfully, she did. Even had she been able to defend herself, that night was three against one, wretched odds.

"Do you like Elfhelm so little? Way I hear it, the two of you are rather sweet on each other. The garrison is still twittering like teenaged girls over your goodbye kiss."

Lýðrest colored at that. She threw her own practice sword down on the ground and stormed away. It was not lost on her that she did care deeply for the man she was married to, enjoyed him, his company and she was missing him horribly. She missed his morning and evening kisses, his warmth in the bed and yes, even his snoring.

She went home, washing up and changing clothes and threw herself into her work at the tavern that night. She worried her mother-in-law, her new family, but mostly Aelwydd, who knew deep inside what was bothering the young woman. But she also understood the stubborn set of her shoulders and backbone.

Time would tell. Hopefully, she would miss him enough to end this foolish prick-teasing game the two of them were playing.

Elfhelm and his company returned on time, fourteen days later. Lýðrest was in his clerk's office, preparing to repeat the rotation, so deep into the fortress, she didn't hear their return. She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the doorframe.

Elfhelm stood against the door, looking tired worn. He was filthy. "Could you lay that aside?" His voice was exhausted, thick, certainly not the robust, vibrancy she was used to.

"Elfhelm?"

"I need your help. It's not bad, but…" His mouth went white. "I don't want my mother or my sisters fussing over me, do you understand?"

"Sure." She got up slowly and took him by the arm. Together, the two sauntered, Lýðrest chattering unusually so about her 'adventures' while he was gone. The captain managed to smile, look as if he were hanging on her every word. No sooner than they got into their cottage, he sank down on the nearest bench by the fireplace. Lýðrest shut the door, grabbed her healer's kit and sank down in front of him. She began to unbuckle and pull his leather armor from him, slinging it out of the way to the floor. "Where?"

"Arm. Hip. It's not bad, not really…just hurts like…" Lýðrest was now pulling his chain maille over his head.

"A fekking warg's arse."

"I knew," he whispered, "you'd have something appropriate to say." His smile, while thin, was genuine. "I'm just tired and need to sleep."

As his clothing came off, Lýðrest hissed. "Not bad, my arse. Had you cleaned them, it wouldn't be bad!" Before long, he was sitting in his small clothes and she was stoking the fire, every large kettle that would hang on a hook, filled with water and over the fire, waiting to boil.

"Béma! Must it be so hot in here?"

Lýðrest was busy nosing over healing salves and a pain-reliever tea. "You can sweat this out while I fix your bath." She handed him a mug of willowbark-laced tea. "When did this happen?"

He took a deep draw of the hot brew. "Bleh!" he grimaced. "Can't you put this stuff in caffe?"

Lýðrest was putting another bucket of hot water into the tub. "I make shitty caffe, just so you know. When did it happen? How long have you been riding all over the fekking Riddermark like this?"

Elfhelm shrugged. "Five… six days." He buried his nose in the mug to hide his smile as his wife swore the dirt from the floor. Home. This was home.

It was quiet for some time as the water level rose in the tub and Lýðrest fussed and worried over each cut and laceration. There was a particularly deep cut on his shoulder that needed several stitches. Elfhelm sat very still while she sewed him up, taking care to make sure the sutures were tight and even. 'Funny', she thought to herself, 'I can sew flesh evenly, but give me a needle and thread and a quilting hoop, and I'm a lopsided loony!' Finally, she poured the last pot of boiling water in the tub and nodded for him to get in. She did not turn away as he stepped out of his last bits of clothing and climbed into the tub. He hissed at the heat but sank gratefully into the water nonetheless. Lýðrest kicked his clothing into the corner and pulled the little bench he was sitting on behind him and began to bathe the parts of him she could see.

In the past weeks, since they arrived in Cantwaraburg, Lýðrest had become more and more interested in her husband's body. Unbeknownst to her, he was aware of her quiet, under the covers scrutiny and he reveled in showing off in typical male fashion. Like most Rohirrim, he was tall, but rather than have a lean physique, he was thick, muscular. Broad across the shoulder with a powerful chest that, as much as Lýðrest hated to admit, she was learning to love as it held her safe, snug, and secure at night. Everything about him was thick, hinted at power.

Including… that.

As she remembered, even limp, his was not the shriveled up, dangling thing most injured men had between their legs. His looked… heavy and Cynni and Belle told her it would grow hard and larger than when it was in its resting state. To think of his… larger? Bigger? Standing like a staff…

"What are you pondering on that has you so quiet?" Elfhelm turned around, leaning on the back of the tub. He immediately saw his wife redden furiously and realizing she was having earthy thoughts, smiled smugly. "Do not lie or make up something outrageous."

"What makes you think I'd lie?"

The back of a damp finger reached out and caressed her jawline. "You're blushing."

It crossed her mind to lie anyway, but truth was she was curious and if she couldn't ask her own husband, who could she ask? Certainly not her mother-in-law… maybe Aelwydd… but…

"I can't figure out how you're going to fit!" she blurted. "Belle said a man gets… bigger and you're bigger already and I just don't know how you're going to … how we're going to..." She realized her husband was grinning about as hard as she had ever seen the man smile. Damn, if he wasn't chuckling. She ducked her head, petulantly. "You maggot-pie. You're laughing at me."

Now he was laughing. "No, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing with you." His hand continued to caress her face. "How much did Belle tell you?"

Stammering, Lýðrest told him all four sentences of information she received. "That it will fit, I'll like it, eventually, and the longer you go without, you'll get… blue balls and it will hurt you."

Elfhelm's smile fell just a bit. "That's all?" Lýðrest nodded. "Do you want me to have my mother or Aelwydd talk to you?"

"NO!" she snapped. "It's damned embarrassing for me to be this old and ignorant-"

"Actually," he interrupted, "I prefer you ignorant. Not that that's a bad thing, simply I'll get to teach you everything." He turned back around, presenting her with his back. "If you'll finish my back and help me wash my hair, you won't have to look at me when I embarrass you, because I probably will." Elfhelm heard the bench scrape across the floor as Lýðrest pulled closer. Her hands went to his back, a bar of soap in her hands. The scent of sandalwood filled the air. "It will get bigger, but it will fit fine."

"Why?"

"Because you'll get wet." Her hands stopped. "A woman's body is made to react to a man's to help things along. I will teach you to touch me in ways that will make me rather large and yes, very hard. You have parts of your body that will make you very wet, which will make it easier."

Suddenly, Lýðrest grabbed his chin, turning his face none to gently, so he was looking straight at her. "And what if I don't get wet enough?"

Elfhelm's face split into a slow-growing grin. He kissed her, much like he had when he left two weeks before. His look was rather rakish. "Then I will crawl between your legs and lick every nook and cranny and your sweet clit until you are gushing and make a wet spot in the bed. And just when you cannot take anymore, I will spread you wide and I will fit." His forehead was pressed against hers. "And you will love it."

Lýðrest pulled back, eyes wide, full of fear, but also full of need. Elfhelm ducked his head beneath the cooling water and held out his hand for the soap. Quickly he washed that mass, before motioning for the bucket to rinse. When he finished, he stood up, water dripping from everywhere on his body. As she was still sitting, Lýðrest looked up taking all of him in, every bit, every inch.

"Tell me, léoflic," Elfhelm's voice was a husky whisper. "Will you allow me to gaze at your naked beauty so thoroughly?" He smiled ruefully when she blushed and looked away. Snorting gently, he held his hand out. "Take my hand and stand up." When she acquiesced, he pulled her up and still clasping it, laid her hand on his uninjured shoulder. With his other hand, he pulled her close, that possessive hand on the curve of her hip, until she was tucked into his body, the damp that adhered to his skin, now clinging to her dress. "You realize," he whispered in her ear, "the first full moon passed while I was gone?" He now laid her hand flat on his shoulder, shuddering as she began to stroke, caress the muscled skin, mindlessly mimicking his own touch along her jaw line. He felt her nod. "Why do you wait?" His murmur was a low rumble in her ear. "Surely you know I would be gentle. I want to pleasure you."

"I'm scared." It was a lamb's bleat, an endearing softness he did not expect from her.

"Well, we should address that fear, but not this evening." He kissed her when she looked up. "I'm in no shape to woo such a reluctant, beautiful woman. And I'm hungry too and as much as I have missed you in my arms, your cooking," he finished ruefully, "has much to be desired." This caused Lýðrest to break out in a rather joyous laugh, something not seen or heard often. "But," Elfhelm lifted a single finger and tapped her on the nose, "I will have the next few days off, meaning you do as well. I would like to show you some of the surrounding countryside, show you where the good fishing spots are, as well as a field that is normally abundant with rabbit and squirrel."

"But I can't cook it, remember?" She was still smiling.

"Well, I guess," he lectured to the rafters while he pulled her in close, "I'll have to teach you to do that as well. Why," he chided humorously, "did I marry you again? OH!" He continued, lest she interrupt him, "That's right! Your father's vast holdings and your jewels!" He spun her around, making her squeal. "And your sweet singing voice!" They were both laughing. Finally, he kissed her, a lingering kiss that promised much. "Help me get dressed and we'll go to the tavern for whatever has been cooked up. But be prepared to spend the next few days with me where hopefully, we'll lay some of your fears to rest and maybe, I can teach you to fry up a trout!"

Fifteen minutes later, the two sat in a dark, back corner of Elfhelm's mother's tavern, sharing a tankard of mead and looking forward to a shared dinner of pork and honeyed vegetables. No one noticed or mentioned, save Lýðrest, the obvious slow movements of the captain, or the grim, white line his mouth made when he moved the wrong way.

They were unaware, as they left the tavern in the early evening, as they slowly strolled hand in hand down the path back to their little cottage, of a pair of angry, jealous eyes that followed them.

tbc

A/N I would like to thank everyone for reading.