Written for the 2013 OEAM Big Bang Challenge. This is the prequel to Rider of the Mark
Chapter notes: Title: My Sweet Thing
Series: The Rohirric Cycle
Prequel to: Rider of the Mark
Author: Zee's Muse aka ZeeDrippyVessel
Fandom: LOTR
Genre: FCHET
Characters: Elfhelm/OFC, Gamling, other non-canon characters
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I am NOT Tolkien. No buckies, no suey. I don’t own any of the characters recognizable.
Timeline: 21 years before the War of the One Ring
Setting: up in the far northwest corner of the Riddermark
Warnings: SEX! Violence, non-canon character death
Spoilers: None.
Beta: The wonderful and amazing Alex-Cat! Why do you put up with me?
Artwork: Elladan’s Girl
Dedication: Mawwiage…
Summary: To what lengths will a father go to ensure the safety of his daughter?
My Sweet Thing
Chapter 01
Worst comes to Worse
21 years before the Battle of the One Ring
It had been a bloody, bloody battle.
The Rohirrim’s new Captain surveyed the field, strewn with bodies – both Dunlendings and Riders… more Dunlendings than not, thank Béma.
“Who’s missing? Dead?” Elfhelm, Rohan’s youngest captain jumped from his horse and began to sift through the bodies, praying to find life. “Where are Mathye and Gauwyn?” His eyes searched frantically. One was his brother - in - law. The other was his youngest brother.
“Here. I’m here!” Mathye shouted. “Bastards knifed my horse, though.”
“How bad?” Elfhelm made is way over bodies, trying to pick out the Rohirrim, still searching for his brother.
“Not bad, but I need to get him tended to and this isn’t the place for it.” Mathye looked around, his face in a scowl. “This place has eyes. We need to grab our wounded and get out of here.”
His sister’s husband had the gift of second sight, a hackling on the back of his neck that had proven correct more times than not. Elfhelm learned early that when the man said ‘run’, you’d best run. His instinct was not often wrong. “We ride as soon as we find… oh… Béma!”
Gauwyn, Elfhelm’s youngest brother was struggling to rise from under his fallen and bloodied horse. The man was covered with filth from head to foot. Mathye took Elfhelm’s reins from him as he rushed to his brother’s side. “How much of the blood is yours?”
Gauwyn’s mouth was a white line. “A lot of it actually.” With obvious great effort, he stood almost straight up. He peered over his horse, lying motionless in the mud. “Damn. I really liked that horse.”
Elfhelm inspected him quickly. “Where is the worst?”
“Leg and my side.” He was holding the wound at his waist and both brothers grimaced when he pulled his hand away. “Is there a horse? I don’t think I’m going to walk out of here.”
