Campdóm and Lufian

   "That certainly was a rough patrol," I say, groaning as I rub the aching muscles in my arm.

   My friend, Aidan, looks my way and flashes a bright smile. "Aye, Halig," he agrees, "But the tougher the battle, the sweeter our return, do you not think?"

   "Indeed." Five skirmishes with Orcs had kept our company away from home for a little over a month, yet it seems an eternity since I have last seen my wife and daughter. How I have missed them! Many a cold night, particularly those I spent laying in the mud and rain, I often imagined myself with them in the comfort of our home. My little one would be sitting upon my lap, playing with one of her toys, whilst my dear wife would be resting at my side with my arm wrapped around her. Just the thought of such was enough to lull me into sleep, even on the most bitter of evenings.

   Now after much toil I shall finally see them again. My heart beats with eager anticipation as I draw close to my village, and no force on this green earth can stop me from grinning like a fool. I care not. Let all who see me know my happiness in returning to my beloved home. It is well earned, by my account, and if any should dispute me, I would gladly take them along on my next scouting venture.

   After making certain my horse, Cyrten, is well taken care of, I begin walking along the dusty road that shall bring me to my abode. Though I step lightly and my stride is purposeful, I am nevertheless continuously assailed by friends and neighbors. "It is good to see you, Halig!" they say, or, "Are the Orc nests destroyed? Will they trouble us again? Shall we ever know peace from such raids?"

   I tell them that they need not worry, though it is but a half-truth. I know that the number of Orcs in the Riddermark increases substantially day by day, and only by constant vigilance can we hope to keep them at bay. Unfortunately, we have too few riders. All to few. That is why I am summoned to the field time and again, given only brief respite from battle. However, I am proud to do so, as are all other riders. No man of Rohan would sit idly by and wait for Orcs to claim his land, and that is where our strength lies.

   Once within a few steps of my home, the door suddenly swings open and my little girl flies through the threshold. "Papa!" she squeals as she races towards me. Bending down to reach her, I sweep her of the ground and spin her around, both of us laughing gleefully as I do. Then I pull her tightly to my chest in a warm embrace before kissing her cheek, and she says, "Papa, I missed you so much."

   "I missed you as well," I tell her, and my eyes wander for a moment to see my wife approaching us.

   "Darelle," she chides. "Could you not even allow your father to come into the house before greeting him? I am certain he is exhausted."

   "Rowen, it is alright," I say, gesturing for her to come forward as I set Darelle upon the ground. I then grasp and gently rub my wife's shoulders as I inhale deeply of her scent. Such familiarity; it has been far too long since I have last been so close to this woman. Her presence is enough to make my blood boil and leave me breathless. I want to love her now, where she stands, but alas, for now I must restrain myself to a simple kiss. "I am glad to be home," I tell her.

   "As am I, husband mine, to have you return," she says softly. "Come inside, I have water heating over the fire, and after I have drawn your bath I shall warm some stew for our evening meal."

   "My love, you need not go through so much trouble," I say. "I will simply change my clothes and cleanse my face in the wash basin."

   "Halig, you smell worse than a rain-drenched Warg!" she complains, wrinkling her nose as she places her hand on her hips in an insistent manner. "Bathe, rest, and do not concern yourself with me."

   I surrender, as she has always been the stronger of us when it comes to a battle of wills. Once the water is ready, I help her carry it into our bed-chamber and empty it into our metal tub. She then assures me I will have complete privacy while she tends to supper before leaving the room. I cannot help but admit to myself that I am slightly disappointed by this. I strip off all my filth-covered armour and clothing and resign to cleansing myself. I even go so far as to clean the dirt out from beneath my fingernails, as I do not wish to hear any word of my being unkempt after doing this for her.

   Once that ritual is complete, I find myself a light tunic and a pair of breeches to wear. Though I enjoy wearing armor, it is nice to wear something that is not heavy or burdensome for a change. Entering the kitchen I find Darelle sitting patiently at the table, playing with one of her dolls, and I sit down next to her. "It is almost ready," Rowen assures me as she tastes from her spoon. "In fact, it should be fine now."

   After everyone is served, I begin stirring my bowl to see nothing more than a few vegetables and mostly water. I look up to see an expectant expression on my wife's face, so I take a spoonful and put it in my mouth. It tastes bland, with little flavor coming from anything solid in the mixture, but I smile and say, "It is very good." This makes her smile, and it warms my heart to see it, but it also grieves me to know that this is what they have been eating while I have been away. When last I departed, I entrusted Rowen with every coin I could spare, hoping it would be enough to last them until I returned. I wonder sometimes if I should leave at all. My duty is important to me and to my country, but what kind of husband and father am I if I cannot provide for my family? But, ah, she has sensed my distress and looks at me with worried eyes, so I smile again and continue my meal. When I return to Aldburg, I shall see if perhaps my pay can be sent directly home so I need not worry.

   I see Darelle yawn sleepily once we are finished, so I say, "Come along, little one. It is time for bed."

   "But I want to stay up with you," she objects as I pick her up from her chair.

   "I promise you I shall be here to play with you tomorrow," I tell her.

   "All day?" she asks.

   "As much as you like," I swear, placing her in her bed and tucking her in. She seems content with this as she nods and closes her eyes. I gently brush a strand of hair from her face and lean down to gently kiss her forehead. "Good night, my sweet daughter."

   "Good night, papa," she says softly. After I snuff out the candle beside her bed I make my way outside her room and slowly close the door, sighing in contentment when I do.

   I turn to see Rowen standing before me, and before I can say anything she takes one hand and begins rubbing my chest while swiftly brushing the other over my breeches. She makes it very clear what she wants, and I must confess it surprises me a little, since she is usually not this forward in her desires. It must be because I have been gone longer than usual this time. "You certainly are eager," I say playfully.

   "And you are not?" she asks.

   "Perhaps, if I am persuaded," I tease, planting several kisses on her sweet lips. She is so beautiful, this wife of mine, and I love her dearly. It nearly makes me weep to think she chose to belong to me, and to be mine alone for the rest of our days. I still do not understand; I am not a handsome man, nor am I wealthy. She had many would-be suitors that were far greater men than I. Yet, she loves me, and will have no one else. Not only does she willingly share her body with me, but also her hopes and fears, her happiness and sadness. Her entire self is mine to have forever, and that makes me feel special indeed. I only hope she feels the same way.

   Once we are in our bed-chamber, she helps me out of my tunic and then suddenly gasps. "What is this?" she asks worriedly, and I look down to see her tracing a finger along a freshly acquired scar upon my chest. Her eyes now appear full of dread and melancholy, and it pains me greatly to look into them.

   "It is nothing to worry over," I tell her. "The blade did not go in deep." I dare not tell her how close it came to being a fatal blow, or how I only turned around just in time to keep from being pierced in the back by the Orc that left this mark on me.

   "I worry for you, every time you ride out," she says, her eyes growing misty. "If you were to fall in battle, I do not know what would become of me. I love you too much to bear losing you."

   "You will not lose me, because I will not suffer any Orc to keep me from you," I assure her. The thought of returning to Rowen is what keeps me going battle after battle. Certainly, there are other reasons, such as duty and the feeling I receive from brandishing a blade. However, whenever I need strength, my love is the one thing that never fails to give it to me. Feeling the need to cheer us both, I pretend to trip and fall backwards onto the bed, all the while holding her hand so that she lands on top of me. This earns a fit of giggles, which forces me to laugh as well. "I am always going to be here beside you," I say.

   I turn onto my side, delicately kissing her as I rub her back for reassurance. I want my love to feel happy and content, and I feel her relaxing under my touch, so I move my caresses down to her hips and legs while I lightly nip at her ear and neck. She in turn strokes my chest and behind my neck, eventually moving her hands lower on my body. It is not long before I am well aroused from such contact, and, realizing this, she rises to undress. She teases me, of course, by removing her clothes at a modest pace. She knows that every bit of naked flesh revealed drives me wild with hunger and desire, and I know not whether to consider it a cruel or kind gesture that she should do so with me. Nevertheless, I wait patiently until she finishes, and when she does, I again wonder at how beautiful and desirable a creature she is. I will never know how one so fair as she could ever look upon me. I am nothing more than a mass of hair, scars, and muscle, while this lady of mine has a lovely lithe frame and fair skin as smooth as silk. Again, I feel blessed that she is mine.

   I remove my breeches as she moves back onto the bed beside me. Then I hold her close for a moment, delighting in the close contact we so comfortably share. I can feel the quick beating of her heart as it drums against my chest, and my immediate wish is pleasure this woman who so willingly gives herself to me. I move my mouth and tongue along her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, and her stomach, alternating between them, stopping occasionally to taste of her lips, while my hand massages her thighs and between them. Judging from her gasps and sighs, my ministrations seem to be having the effect I desire. This makes me glad, as I have never wanted my wife to feel any less from our intimacy than I do. I keep on, randomly adjusting the speed or direction of my motions, until I hear the words, "Take me, husband," pass from her lips. I comply by moving to rest between her legs, and then I enter her slowly, always slowly. Ever have I been afraid of harming her, but once fully sheathed I have heard only a blissful moan and no signs of pain.

   Now we are as one, united in love, and there is no more beautiful feeling to me than being connected so with my lover. I begin to move, with gentle thrusts, trying not to become too eager. I wish for her to enjoy our love-making, and feel no distress because of me. The closer I come to fulfillment of this deed the harder it becomes, but I remain steady until my body tenses in anticipation of my imminent release. The sudden surge of pleasure from my loins forces a growling moan through tightly clenched teeth as I empty my seed inside her. At the same time, a brief cry of ecstasy escapes from my wife, signaling her own blissful climax. Spent, I collapse into the open arms of my lover, and it is a moment before clarity comes back to my mind. My body is shaking, my breath is heavy, and my forehead is drenched in sweat. I look up to see my love smiling warmly, and I revel in the thoughts of the pleasure I have given her. I am the only one to bring such a smile of satisfaction upon her lips, and it is a feeling so grand I feel I could fell an Orcish raiding party single-handedly. I lean down to kiss her a few more times, before my exhaustion becomes fully apparent and I gently withdraw to lay beside her. Our love-making has taken its toll after such a difficult patrol and long ride home, and I hope she understands as I wrap my arm around her and drift off to sleep.

-----

   The next morning, I wake to find Rowen still sleeping beside me. Not wishing to disturb her, I give her a light kiss before carefully rising to dress myself. The weather is quite cold this morning and I begin to shiver. I start to build a fire, but there is no firewood inside so I go outside to retrieve some. There is none outside either, so I grab my axe to chop some more. I find it amazing how relaxing such a simple household chore can be. When on the battlefield, I use an axe to hew Orc heads from their necks. Now, I am using one to make firewood to warm my home. It feels comforting to use a weapon for something other than war and bloodshed, even if it is what I must do to ensure the safety of our people.

   As soon as I am done, I pick up a bundle to bring inside with me and immediately set upon starting a fire. As soon as the flames grow enough to give a substantial amount of warmth, I look up to see Rowen standing nearby, watching me. "Good morning, husband," she says as I rise to my feet.

   I lean over to kiss her before saying, "Good morning to you. Did you sleep well?"

   "I did. Thank you," she says cheerfully. "Would you please wake Darelle? I will start making breakfast soon."

   "Of course," I say. Making my way to Darelle's room, I find her still sound asleep. She looks so peaceful that I do not truly wish to wake her, but I gently nudge her shoulder and say, "Darelle, wake up. Mama is making your breakfast now."

   "Yes, papa," she forces out, rubbing her eyes as she yawns wide. I return to the table, and several minutes later Darelle sits beside me. "Remember, papa," she says. "You promised you would play with me today."

   "I did not forget," I say. "However, I must make certain to do what your mother requires of me as well."

   "By all means, entertain her today," Rowen says as she begins serving porridge. "I have many errands to run, so I would be most grateful if you would watch her."

   "Then, little one, it seems you will have me all to yourself until supper," I say, smiling down at her.

   After breakfast is finished, I give Rowen a great deal of the coin I received after my last patrol, and with a goodbye kiss she sets out to complete her chores. The first thing Darelle decides to do is play with her wooden figurines. She keeps all of the riders for herself, while I take charge of an exceptionally large and ugly looking troll. She begins moving the horses toward me, saying, "We are the Riders of the Mark! Foul creature, be-gone from our land!"

   "I not afraid of puny horsemen!" I say, trying to sound as dimwitted as possible. "I crush you, and smash you, and make you into soup!"

   "But I am Prince Theodred!" she says. "No troll may stand up to me! Die!" Then she bashes the wooden rider into the troll, and I groan as I bring it crashing to the ground. "The enemy is dead, men! Go back to Edoras!"

   As I watch her continue to play with her toys, I cannot help but marvel at the wonder of life. This child grew from my seed within her mother's womb. A simple act of love and desire created this most precious and beautiful girl. However, the passage time is cruel. It seems only yesterday that I held her in my arms for the first time, and now she is a young lady of six summers. Before I realize it she shall be a grown woman, caring for children of her own while I sit wondering where the time has gone. That is why I must ensure I spend every moment I can with her, and when the time comes that she shall leave me, I only hope she comes into the care of a man that shall love her just as much as I do.

   Suddenly she stops playing and asks, "Papa, will you tell me a story?"

   "Certainly," I say. "I will tell you a story about Brego's son, Baldor. Do you remember who Brego was?"

   "Yes," she answers. "He was the son of Eorl, and the second King of Rohan."

   "Good. I am glad you listen well when I speak of our history," I tell her, inwardly beaming. "At one time, the king and the lords of his house all dwelled in Aldburg, until Brego finished construction of the Golden Hall in Edoras."

   "Can I see the Golden Hall?"

   "One day when you are old enough I shall take you there," I promise her. "Now, after Meduseld was completed, there was a great feast to celebrate this achievement. It was then that Baldor, Brego's first son, announced that he would travel the Paths of the Dead, or the haunted road that passes through the White Mountains."

   "Are the Paths of the Dead frightening?"

   "Very much so," I answer. "So much that no living man dares enter them, but Baldor ventured to tread them regardless, never to return. Not a living soul in Rohan knows why Baldor made such a reckless journey. If only Brego knew, then he took the reason to his grave."

   "Maybe Baldor made it through."

   "Perhaps, perhaps not," I say. "If he did, why did he not return? Was he waylaid by Orcs on the other side? Or did he simply decide not to come back? I fear we shall never know the answer."

   "Tell me another story then," she pleads.

   So I start to tell her many tales. Some she has heard before, while others she has not. I recount when I was training to become a rider, my first patrol, the time I visited Mundburg, and even of the day I first met her mother. She listens with great interest and eagerly asks for more, but by mid-day my mouth grows dry and I am made painfully aware of the lack of food in my stomach. "Are you hungry, little one?" I ask her.

   "Yes, papa," she says.

   "Well, I shall see what I can do about it," I tell her. Unfortunately, Rowen has not yet returned, so the only thing I can think to do is warm what is left of the stew she prepared last night. I only hope it has not soured, or that she was not intending to serve it this evening, because either instance will only lead to my discomfort. As soon as it is ready, I pour the remains into Darelle's bowl and mine before sitting down to eat. It tastes no better than it did last night, but no worse at least. I only hope it will keep me satisfied until this evening.

   Once Darelle finishes, I ask her, "Would you like to ride on papa's horse?" She responds with a vigorous nod, which pleases me, as I feel the need for some fresh air. After leaving our house, I grab hold of her hand and make my way to the stable, smiling and waving at familiar people I see along the way. I enjoy living here. All know each other and would give aid without asking, and our village is one of beauty and serenity. This is all well, of course, but we do lack certain..... diversions, for lack of a better word, than can only be found in the larger townships. I do not know what I would prefer, but, if I should ever gather up the courage, I would like to ask Rowen if she would consider taking up residence in Aldburg. Just so we could see each other more often, if nothing else. Besides, Aldburg is naught but a half day's ride away, so she could easily return to visit her friends here if she wished.

   Cyrten seems happy to see me as I walk up to his stall. "Did you miss me, my friend?" I ask, scratching his muzzle. "Would you care to take us for a ride?" The way he snorts and stomps his feet suggests he is happy to comply with my request, or at least that he is anxious to be outside running freely. After saddling him I guide him out of the stable, then place Darelle on his back and seat myself behind her. "Hold on tight," I say, allowing Cyrten to bolt out onto the plain.

   I let him run freely for a while to use up his excess energy while I enjoy both the ride and the sound of Darelle laughing gleefully. After some time I spot a small stream, so I decide to stop there for a while to let Darelle play. "Now, have fun, but do not go so far that I cannot see or hear you," I tell her as I help her to the ground.

   "Yes, papa," she says quickly before running off. I just sit back against a nearby tree and allow myself to take in the peacefulness of the afternoon. The day has warmed enough to be quite comfortable, the sky is blue, and there is a fresh breeze blowing. I cannot help but wonder how many more tranquil days such as this one I am going to have. Is what I told Rowen true? Will I always be able to return safely home, in spite of the growing dangers in the Riddermark? Or am I simply enjoying good fortune that is doomed to fade away? This very well may be the last day I shall ever enjoy, and it un-nerves me to think about it. However, as much as I would like sometimes to put aside my sword and thus lessen that risk, I know that I could not. Not until Rohan is purged of evil, and people no longer fear for their safety. I only wonder when that day shall come.

   In any case, I decide not to spend any more of the day depressing myself. Darelle seems to be enjoying herself by the stream, and Cyrten is busy grazing nearby, so I allow myself to doze for a time, occasionally calling out to Darelle to make certain she is well. A while later, however, I call and she does not answer. Unsettled, I leap to my feet and look around, calling again. I do not see her, and there is still no response. I look up to see it is late afternoon; still too early for Orcs to be about, but I grow worried nonetheless and start to search for her. After a few minutes pass I summon her again, and thankfully this time she answers. I find myself racing toward the sound of her voice, feeling relieved to find her in a nest of wildflowers, carefully weaving a circlet of blossoms.

   "Child, why did you wander so far? Did you not here me calling?" I sternly ask, though I wonder if she can tell I am actually glad to have found her.

   "I am sorry, papa," she says, "but I saw these flowers, and I had to make this for mama." She sheepishly holds up her creation for me to inspect.

   "Well, it is beautiful, and I am certain she will like it," I tell her, holding her in a tight embrace. I do not even know if she realizes the terrible things that can happen when she wanders off alone, but I can hardly hold her at fault when I was only half watching her to begin with. I was just recently thinking how dangerous times have become, too. "We should be returning home now. Your mother will have supper ready by the time we arrive."

   We ride back to the village and make our way up the road to our home with the setting of the sun, and once inside I am puzzled by the many different aromas in the air. "It smells like a feast," I quietly say.

   Rowen walks in from the kitchen, and upon seeing us she says, "Well, I am glad the two of you returned when you did. I just finished setting the table, and I was afraid the food would grow cold before you got back. Where did you go off to?"

   "Papa took me for a ride on Cyrten!" Darelle says happily. "Look, mama! I made this for you!"

   "Oh, it is adorable! Thank you!" Rowen says, taking the circlet and placing it on her head. I have to admit to myself that the white flowers go well with her golden hair.

   As I enter the kitchen, I am shocked to find the table laden with food. On it is a grand assortment of fruits, vegetables, bread, pastries, cheese, and a roast pig in the center. "How? Why?" are the only words that I can get out of my mouth to express my astonishment.

   "I.. I wanted you to have a real meal, after the poor excuse for supper," she said regretfully. "I was over at Huilda's all day cooking, and all helped me."

   "But, Rowen!" I protest. "That money was meant to last you until I return again. How do you expect to feed yourself and our daughter, when you must have spent a great deal of it on enough food to set a king's table?"

   "We will manage," she softly says, casting her eyes downward and shuffling her feet. I look at her side and notice her hand is clenched into a fist. Is she upset? Angry, even? But why? If she wastes so much money just for my sake, then......then, I begin to understand. She did all of this because she loves me. How could I so foolishly have lectured her? Bema only knows how hard she worked just to do this for me. Not only her, but her friends as well. She knew what she was sacrificing for my sake, and I should be happy.

   "I am sorry," I tell her, reaching out to clasp her hand. "Truly, I am grateful, honored, that you went through so much trouble for me. Thank you."

   "It is alright," she says, looking up to smile at me. "Do not worry about a thing. Take of whatever you like, and I shall share what is left over with the village tomorrow."

   "Are you certain you will be alright, though?" I ask, but upon seeing her expression sour I quickly add, "Never mind. Of course you are. Well, I am hungry, so let us eat."

   After having one of the finest meals I have eaten in years, I grab my pipe and walk outside while Rowen and Darelle work to clean the table. The night breeze feels cool as I sit down and enjoy a leisurely smoke. I look up to see the stars twinkling in the slowly darkening sky, and I think of how many times I have seen the same stars from different vantage points. Whether I am here, at Aldburg, or sitting in a far-away field cleaning my blade, the stars still smile upon us through a tranquil cloud of night. Sometimes as I look upon them, I wonder if Rowen and Darelle are looking with me, and it almost makes me feel they are there at my side. It may be just a silly notion, but they are the most welcome of company on the loneliest of nights.

   Some time later, I walk inside to look for Rowen. I enter the sitting room to see her resting her head back, eyes half closed, and seemingly unaware I am standing nearby. She looks tired, but beautiful as always, and I would be lying if I said the thought of intimacy was not on my mind. However, tonight I shall let her rest. It must, after all, be an exhausting task to care for her oaf of a husband. Besides, just being with her is enough to satisfy me. So, I just sit down beside her and take her hand in mine, gently rubbing over her knuckles with my thumb.

   "You are leaving tomorrow?" she asks sleepily.

   "Yes, my love," I answer, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I will likely be gone for another month at least. I only pray Prince Theodred is successful at the fords. Then more men will return to guard the Eastfold."

   "It never ends, does it?" she asks rhetorically, adjusting her head to rest on my shoulder. "If only we could stay as we are now, for the rest of eternity."

   "I would like that," I say, rubbing her arm. "I would like that very much indeed."

   I sit here with her until she falls asleep, and then I pick her up to carry her to bed. She mumbles something inaudible as I set her down on the soft linen sheets, and I wonder if she was thinking about me as I lay down beside her. I prop my head up on my hand and watch her for a while, content to listen to her light snoring as if it were harmonious music. I do not know how long it will be before I return, but I must come back to this perfect woman who sleeps beside me. "Good night, my dearest love," I whisper in her ear, and kiss her tenderly before taking to my own rest.

-----

   When I awake the next morning, I find myself groping the other side of our bed only to find no one there. I open my eyes to look about, and notice that it is not long past dawn. When I get up, I find my armor has been neatly set out for me. After dressing myself in it I stoop down to tighten the straps on my boots, looking up as I hear the door creak open.

   "Good morning," Rowen says as she enters the room. I rise to my feet, allowing my gaze to wander up and down her slender frame. I cannot help myself. She is far too desirable a woman to resist.

   "It certainly is now," I respond after a while, grinning as I walk over and wrap my arms around her waist.

   "I came to tell you that breakfast is ready," she says weakly. She knows what I want, and the look in her eyes suggests she wishes the same. This shall be the last opportunity I have for a while, if ever, to make love to my wife. Nothing else matters right now.

   "I love you. I need you..." I growl, kissing her hungrily as I caress her.

   "Then have me," she gasps, and the words drive me wild in my desire. I swiftly free myself from the constraint of my breeches afore gathering up her skirts, all the while lapping and nipping at her neck. Grasping her buttocks, I lift her up and enter her, relishing in her moans of pleasure as she wraps her legs around my waist.

   I begin to thrust into her whilst kissing her passionately, and she speaks words that would never pass from her lips outside our bed-chamber. She calls out my name, begging me to move faster, deeper, and I meet these requests gladly in my eagerness to please her. I can feel my release building rapidly, and a deep groan of ecstasy surges from my lungs as it shoots forth, met by Rowen's shrieks of pleasure.

   I struggle to hold her steady, burying my head into her shoulder as I attempt to regain my breath and senses. "I love you," she whispers again and again, her voice trembling. I look up so she can see my face, and I smile warmly before planting more kisses upon her sweet face. Slowly, I withdraw and help lower her to the ground, catching her as her legs nearly give out from under her.

   "Please say I have not harmed thee, my love..." I say with some concern, but she smiles at me in such a way that makes my heart feel light. I pull my breeches up to my waist as she smoothes out her rumpled clothing, and then I embrace her tightly. "Rowen," I whisper into her ear. "I want none other than thee, and I shall return I promise, my beloved." We stand like so for what seems like forever. I am at ease in the arms of my lover, and I would be loth to ever be bereft of this feeling. Alas that I must leave her soon.

   "Your meal is growing cold," she teases as I pull away to grab my sword belt.

   "I care not," I retort, fastening the belt and then reaching out to take her hand. I grin down at her as she places her delicate palm in mine, and together we walk toward the kitchen. A plate of eggs and sausages rests on the table, and I feel even more thankful to have a wife so thoughtful and loving.

   "You are too good to me," I say, giving her a kiss as I sit down to my meal. "I really must do something special for you in return." Oddly, she says nothing to this. In fact, she is curiously quiet the entire time I am eating. When I finish, she leaves to wake up Darelle, and returns with her just as I pick up my spear.

   "Papa, do you really have to go so soon?" Darelle says, rubbing her eyes.

   "I am afraid I must," I say ruefully. "Do not worry, though. I shall be back before you can miss me too greatly. Be a good girl and do as your mama says."

   She answers with a nod of her head, and then Rowen walks over and whispers in my ear. "Go, and purge our land of Orcs. Take care, and come back to me safely."

   "I shall. I promise," I tell her, and we embrace one last time before I turn to walk out the door. I then pause to take a deep breath of the crisp, cool air before swiftly making my way back to the stables. Soon I will be back in battle again, fighting for survival and the safety of my people. This is my life, and shall be until I no longer have the strength to wield sword or spear. Until that day comes, Rowen, just keep waiting, and I shall always return to you.

Campdóm and Lufian.

Well, my work in the kitchen is done. The stew is not much but ‘twill sustain us for a few more days. Halig has been longer on patrol than usual. He left me with enough coin, but the future is ever uncertain and I must needs keep some …in case….no… “Think not such morbid thoughts,” I chide myself. He will return. He will.

I sigh and leave the kitchen. Our daughter Darelle sits with her dolls, playing happily. She misses her Papa so, and I…well never have I liked being alone in that great bed. Not without my love resting beside me. But, I endure these absences, for without the strength of arms and courage of our brave riders our country would be over-run.

A sound outside the window causes both of us to raise our heads. Darelle smiles suddenly, leaping off her chair and scattering her toys. “Papa!” she cries, as she dashes outside to meet him.

He is home and safe. I collect myself afore joining them. He is spinning Darelle round and the sound of their laughter brings tears to my eyes. He sees me. Oh my love, how weary you look.

He beckons me forward, and the feel of his hands upon my shoulders and his gentle caress is enough to almost make me weak. He is back and he will be mine only this night. He grants me but a simple kiss, which is enough for the moment.

I tell him there is water heating and a warm stew for supper.

When he tells me he will merely wash in a bowl I inform him that his scent is much worse than a rain-drenched warg, whilst giving him a pointed look. If he thinks he will bed me smelling so he is sorely mistaken.

Halig insists on helping me fill the metal tub. I leave him then, assuring him of privacy. If I stay any longer I fear I would yield to him. That will come later, although I see the disappointment on his face as I leave our bed-chamber.

Darelle is patiently sitting at the table. I pour the stew into a pot and stir it over the fire.

Halig enters the room. I glance at him, he looks so different when not in armour, but still carries himself well. 

I tell him the stew is ready and serve it. Halig takes a spoonful and looks at me his face unreadable for the moment. I know ‘tis not much, but we manage. Had I known of his return today there would have been a much grander table set for my husband. Oh! He frowns, he likes not the supper, but on seeing him smile again I feel easier in my mind. Tomorrow will see a supper fit for Theoden King.

Darelle is the happiest of children as her Papa takes sees to her rest. Her eyes have never left his face since his return. She will sleep well tonight, in the knowledge that her beloved father shares the same roof…and I have to admit so will I.

Well this will not get the dishes cleared and washed. I hum a little tune as I finish the chores, and my heart is glad at the sound of the two voices coming from Darelles bed-chamber. I hear Halig promise to play with her tomorrow. I smile at this. My husband is a powerful man, a warrior through and through, but ever gentle with his child.

I meet Halig in the hall. His gaze is tender, eyes dark with desire. A delicious chill runs through me at the thought.

We are alone. I must touch him. I must know that he is whole and hale. I rub his chest and cannot help myself to brush past his breeches. I need him.

“You certainly are eager,” he says playfully

I smile up into his dear face, “And you are not?” I reply, knowing full well how aroused he is. He kisses me, teasing kisses that melt my bones. I had quite a few suitors before Halig, but no man can compare to him. He is my love and my life.

We walk into our bedchamber and I quickly divest my husband of his tunic. “What is this?” I cry, my eyes fixed upon a new scar on his chest Oh that he was hurt and I knew not: in pain and I could not care for him and relieve his suffering. He tells me there is no need to fret, but I do worry. Every time he is on patrol. Every time he raises sword and spear in battle. How can I not?

Suddenly though he trips and falls onto the bed and in his foolery pulls me atop him. I cannot help but giggle at this, and he joins me in laughter.

Then we are kissing again as I feel his caresses upon my body. My blood turns to fire as I react to his touch, and know he is now well aroused from my own ministrations.

This will go no further whist I am clothed. I undress, aware that he is watching my every move as I slowly remove each piece of garment. He is patient as I do so but I know my husband, his patience is not endless and I cannot be so cruel as to cause him discomfort if I prolong this teasing act. He divests himself of his breeches as I move to lie beside him and our bodies touch.

His mouth and tongue blaze a path across my breasts, his hands create an unstoppable tension deep within me. I love the feel of those strong hands: the rough calluses brushing over my most sensitive places. I can stand no more. I want him. I need him within me.

“Take me husband,” I whimper. He nestles over me and fills me slowly. Oh, the feeling is almost too much. I raise my hips to meet every gentle thrust from him and I start to tremble, the feelings strong and unstoppable. Soon I feel his body tense and I lose myself in his maleness, clenching round his thighs and crying his name in my throes. I feel my love shuddering under his own release, and I revel in hearing my name whispered with love upon his lips.

This closeness afterwards is always so precious, as I cradle him in my arms, his own body still trembling from his excursions. He is spent now and not just from our love-making.  The last weeks have been hard, the battles trying and wearying. He sleeps within my embrace. Home again.

***

‘Tis morn, and I stretch to wake myself fully. Halig is not there. On rubbing my hand over the sheet I realize he has not been long out of bed, and the dull sound of logs being split tells me where he is.

“Pity”, I giggle. I would have loved a repeat performance of the night before...but Darelle might have been roused and disturbed us.

I smile to myself and hastily get dressed to prepare breakfast for us. I enter the kitchen and find that Halig has hewn enough kindling to last us for days. I silently watch as he builds a fire, and when he notices I am standing beside him he rises and gently kisses me. I ask him to wake our daughter and this he readily does. He loves her so.

I prepare a good breakfast for all of us. Halig is a big man with an appetite to match. “And not only for food.” I muse, blushing slightly at my wanton thoughts.

Soon we are all tucking in to bowls of good porridge.

I have a hard day ahead of me and depart to meet with the other women of the village. I leave Darelle with her Papa, her face alight with joy to be spending some time with him.

 The coin left from my husband’s last visit will see a feast for all. Many of my neighbours gladly assist me in the butchery and preparation of such. Older girls watch the young ones as we work, some of them deftly plucking the fowls that will be roasted along with other sweetmeats.     

My neighbour, Huilda, sits by my side as I prepare the sauces and seasonings for the food.

“Hailg is home then,” she nudges me and winks. “I thought you looked tired this morn. Not much sleep, eh,” she sniggers, causing others to look my way and smirk.

 “Aye Huilda, and glad I am that he is beside me once more...if only for a short time.”

She notices my sad expression at the thought of his departure, and pulls me down into her amble bosom. “Tis the way of things, child. Women must ever remain to tend the house while the men are away to fight. ‘Tis almost as they enjoy it that way.”

A few more voices join in after hearing our words.

“Men…huh! A quick grope and hump and ‘tis over. I never enjoyed the act”

“Oh, I don’t know, my Denulf is always most attentive to my pleasure”

“Well, it is most overestimated in my opinion. They get the pleasure, we pick up thepieces, bearing childrenand looking to their needs..I did care for my husband ..and when he fell in battle I mourned him, but never felt the need to wed again. I can live happily without a man in my life, thank Bema.

"Oh," I add, “I could never want for a better husband but….” sudden tears form in my eyes. “I do worry so..he is ever a warrior and for this I do fret.”

“Well tonight he will dine well, as will all our men…he will return Rowen.” I smile at my friend and wipe the unshed tears away with the back of my hand.

This is the time when gossip is rife as we bake and prepare delicious fare for our men-folk and families. A new face joins our group, kneading a mountain of dough with much ferocity and scowling deeply as she does so.

“Why the face, Beorwyn?” inquires Huilda, ever the one to jump feet first.

Beorwyn stops her insistent pummelling and sighs, “’Tis my eldest, Edlyn. She returned home last night, home from her husband.”

Gasps went round the circle. Edlyn was but recently wed, a matter of a week.

“But why?” many women inquire.

Beorwyn smiles a little, “Oh, she has returned to him, her father, took her straight back this morn. ‘Tis why I am late. Seems she liked not the marriage bed. Took one look of her husband naked and fled sobbing to the privy. Sigbert is a patient man, but will not wait forever to consummate the marriage, if she minds him not this night she will be released from their union. Her father was furious and ‘twas all I could do to stop him from striking her. I sent him to the tavern whilst we had a talk about things.”

 Laughter filled the air as the talk turned a little bawdy. Most women fall to discussing this issue and much comparison is made about their husbands’ anatomy and first impressions. I recall my own bridal night, how I remember feeling the same…but my love was gentle and tender with me. Indeed ‘twas a most ‘interesting’ night. I feel my face redden slightly, and not due to all the cooking that surrounds me.

“I notice your lips are silent, Rowen,” Huilda teases, with laughter, nudging me once again.

“I shall refrain, ladies.” I say, “I do not want to make you all jealous.” I grin broadly as shrieks of laughter ring through the kitchen.

The day passes quickly and on my return I find that Halig and Darelle have partaken of some stew and have both left to wander among the greensward.

‘Tis a most delightful place we dwell within, though sometimes I feel Halig would prefer to live within the boundaries of Aldburg itself, under the protection of Lord Eomer. I like this place, but if my husband requests that we move I shall follow him gladly. For he ever cares about his family and if my suspicions are true there will be another little one to care for after the yule celebration. I am certain he will want to be close by once he realizes I am with child again.

Now I have the table set with many varied dishes awaiting thereupon. I am quite tired after my chores but feel as excited as a young maid as I listen for the return of my husband and child. Footsteps and voices outside signal their arrival, “I am glad the two of you returned when you did,” I say. “I just finished setting the table, and I was afraid the food would grow cold before you got back. Where did you go?”

Darelle chattered about riding out of the village on Cyrten and she gave me a beautiful daisy chain. “Oh it is adorable! Thank you.” I place it on my head as they both follow me into the kitchen. Darelle’s eyes were as wide as the Entwash as she walked round the table gazing at the food…but why is Halig looking so…”How?   Why?…” he says, his face quite stern…I feel my hands involuntary clench…have I done aught wrong?…I only want to please my love…to care for him as a good wife should.. and to love him…sudden tears fill my eyes. “I..I wanted you to have a real meal, after the poor excuse for supper…I was over at Huilda’s all day cooking, and all helped me.”

He smiles and my world is sunshine again.

We dine well this eve and others shall benefit as well. Ever we share our food and good fortune. We are close in this community and look to our own.

As Darelle and I clear the table and wash the dishes, my beloved takes the air and smokes his pipe. He knows I am not in favour of him smoking in the house. The weed is strong and lingers for hours.

After I settle our daughter for the night I enjoy the luxury of a rest. Soon I am joined by Halig and feel his arm around me as we cuddle close. I could stay within these strong arms forever more. We talk and I feel tiredness creeping slowly upon my, my eye-lids feel so heavy…..

***

I awaken in the cold dawn. He sleeps still, I will awaken him not..not for a while. He leaves this day back to rejoin the Eored. I indulge myself a little while longer and simply watch my husband as he sleeps. I reach out a hand to caress his long shaggy mane, his firm jaw and full lips. I reach over and plant a ghost of a kiss upon them, feeling my eyes mist over a little. Our time together has been too short. Eru knows when we shall be together again, when I shall lie once more in his embrace, feel his arms around me, inhale his masculine scent…and surrender myself to his touch.

I light the kitchen fire and as the water is boiling I see to cleaning his armour, and set it ready for him to don when he rises. Soon the sausages are ready and I return to check if he has roused from our marriage bed.

On opening the door, I hold my breath and see my husband dressed once more in his armour. “Good morning,” I say, as his gaze travels my body.

“It certainly is now,” he says after a pause..

My voice is weak, “I came to tell you that breakfast is ready,” my words trail off, my legs are trembling, my heart pounding….He walks to me, his eyes dark yet gleaming and I feel myself melt as he takes me in his arms. And I am powerless to resist….I do not want to resist.

“I love you. I need you…” he growls, caressing my bottom with a teasing touch. His kisses are hungry and he raises my skirts to take me as we stand.

“Then have me,” I gasp. I feel a rush of desire flood through me as his hands hold my buttocks to guide himself firmly into my trembling body…such strength within those arms, as his hardness impales me. I wrap my legs round his waist and he thrusts convulsively as our lips meet feverishly.

Soon my world is one of hard metal and tender bliss. The cold armour under my thighs increases my pleasure as my lips cry words that no lady should use to urge my love to more heights of pleasure. And he gives me more as we ride together and care not that our cries are loud and ecstatic in our mutual and extremely satisfying climax.

Then we are both breathing heavy, trying to concentrate on where we are and who we are. “ I  love you,” I whisper, over and over…

I feel his lips rain kisses over my face as he slowly releases me and slips out of my body. He gently lowers me to the floor and steadies me, as my limbs seem not to want to support my satiated frame.

“Please say I have not harmed thee, my love..” he says with concern. To ease his mind I smile at him to show my love. “Rowen,” he whispers, sending a thrill down my spine. “I want none other than thee, and I shall return I promise, my beloved.”

I lean within his arms feeling his heart pounding. There is no other place I would rather be, no other man I would lay with. We remain so for long minutes and I revel in the strength and power that surrounds me.

“Your meal is growing cold,” I whisper, as he dons his sword belt.

“I care not,” he replies and holds out his hand to mine. He grins as I feel his large calloused hand surround mine. We enter the kitchen together, and I see his eyes take in the generous plate of sausages and eggs waiting on the table.

“You are too good to me,” he says, leaning over for a kiss, and then sits down to tuck into his breakfast. “I really must do something special for you,” he adds. I feel he wants an answer from this remark, but my heart is too full to speak at the moment. No greater pleasure I would have in this world is that that my husband should return to me, alive and whole. That is all I wish for...to hope for. He finishes eating and I rise. “I will awaken Darelle,” I say, planting a soft kiss upon his lips.

***

And now he is gone again, gone to fight for his kin and homeland. And fight he will to preserve all that he loves.

Darelle weeps silently in my arms, after her Papa has left, and I rub my belly in hope and expectation of the new life that is growing within.

‘Fare you well and return soon, my beloved.’

The End.

Campdóm and Lufian = Duty and love.