The Sign of the Prancing Pony by Uvatha the Horseman

Back at the Nazgul Camp (R)

Warning - Adult Content (R)

("It's about married people who love each other very, very much," - Homer Simpson)

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The Nazgul rode until the horses were lathered and panting. An almost-invisible farm road lay just ahead. Khamul reined in. "Let's turn off here."

It was dark under the trees, and hard to keep to the narrow lane. They came to a meadow, overgrown to the point of having saplings among the tall grasses. A crescent moon showed through ragged clouds. At the edge of what appeared to be an abandoned pasture stood a lean-to shelter. A small amount of straw lay in places on the ground beneath it.

They unsaddled the horses. The straw in the cattle shelter was deep and soft, if not particularly new. Adunaphel spread out her cloak over the stray, then lay down on her back. Khamul glanced at his companion.

"You wanna?" she asked.

"No, I'm too tired. I just want to sleep."

Her robes, still wet from the rain, clung to the swell of her breasts. It seemed that the spell she'd cast on the half-Orc back at the tavern had reached him too, and he was still feeling its effects.

"Maybe I'm not all that tired. Is the offer still good?"

He rolled on top of her. She squirmed as if trying to escape but was pinned down by his weight. His breath came in shallow pants. He grabbed a handful of fabric and lifted the hem of her dress.

"Get off of me!" She slapped him, hard.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I thought…"

"Get off of me, you foul-smelling cut-purse, or my father the sheriff will see you hanged!"

That was all he needed to hear. He gripped her wrists and pinned them against the ground, then with his knee, forced apart her tight-clamped knees. The pretend sheriff's daughter struggled for a time, but then turned meek and frightened.

"I beg you, sir. I am an innocent maiden, untouched by any man. Pray don't bring me to shame!"

From the tavern-sign banter that afternoon, a phrase came unbidden to his mind.

All The Way Inn.