MS: Hello everyone, back with another oneshot: another pairing that I did not ship previously and have lately found myself steering into port. Lol. This is based on the headcanon of a dear friend with reference to Robert's family business, and well my own headcanon that Mariam remains the only Beyblade female who is in love with dresses. Not extremely angsty, I think I wrote this honestly because I was in a serious horse mood. Haha. Anyways read and leave me a review with what you think.
Evening dresses, horses that seemed too perfect and cute stable kids that wanted to talk to the pretty lady in white. That and big parties that she really couldn't afford.
That was what she could attribute their relationship to.
And well; maybe the pleasure of his company.
Mariam watched as Robert brushed down one of her favorite horses. Their time in the barn varied, honestly, since she'd first met him in person and Mariam found it hard to complain. Sometimes they were silent. There were horses back at home, but not so many and not so many as beautiful as Robert's were. Or as well-trained. So it was nice to sit back sometimes, listen to the occasional stomp of a hoof or bored whinny that prompted her to walk over and rub a nose, sneak an apple... Robert was there too of course; but he was working usually. Tall, taller than he'd even seemed to her on television, he wore high-end blazers that despite working in a stable never seemed to get dirty. His riding boots were shiny, and they always looked new but Mariam knew that couldn't be right because breaking in new shoes all the time would've been too uncomfortable.
She would watch, as he cleaned stalls or brushed down horses or poured oats into feed buckets. Picked hooves, soaped a saddle or a bridle. He seemed a little antagonized even, by her presence at first as if he knew private time with the animals who had become friends to him was no longer private: it had been invaded by someone with a strange curiosity that he couldn't quite understand. But, after a few days, that too passed.
And then sometimes in the stable, they weren't so silent. Once Mariam brought a small hand-held radio with her; hung it on a lead rope hook and just let the low melody play as she walked through the wide corridors to greet the many heads poking out over the stalls. She didn't really know what type of music horses liked the best and she didn't know what Robert liked either; but the channel she'd chosen played a lot of classic rock.
The look he'd given her first was astronomical. Robert often gave her those looks, like she was a tad crazy... Especially when she wore nice dresses into a barn and heeled shoes. He was convinced she was going to be stepped on, bitten, something... But her behavior continued until the point where Robert must've decided that it was useless to try and protect one so stubborn. That day, with the radio, he'd arched one perfect purple eyebrow and moved his gaze from she, intimidated, to the offending instrument and back again. "There is usually no music playing in here. The horses must not know what they are hearing."
Mariam had faltered in her step a little, looked at the hanging radio and then back at him. "...Do you want me to shut it off?"
"...Hm. It is fine." He simply turned back to the golden-colored mare he was grooming, and let her sit down to watch like she did so many times. That day they talked while he worked; the horses were unusually active too. A lot of excitement, that day.
That palomino mare with her golden body and white mane and tail would soon become Mariam's favorite. Not just because the coloring was rare and sought after, but because the horse was as gentle as an old hound despite her young age and impressive, volatile parents; and she had quite the loving personality.
Mariam didn't profess to know a lot about horses; not nearly as much as Robert. And when she'd found out that Robert Jurgen's legendary royal family had spent decades in the horse breeding business, with Robert an equestrian champion himself, she had taken to asking her friends at home with horses of their own some factual questions. Even did some research, borrowed a book or two. Mares, apparently, the female versus the male un-neutered stallion... Could be a challenge sometimes. Breeding mares especially. Often quite hormonal and a tad reckless when rutting season came, they could be as unpredictable as their male counterparts and twice as bitchy. Literally.
But this horse... Mariam had learned after awhile what her name was, but Mari had never been good at remembering names and she sort of just neglected to use it. Besides, the golden female seemed smart enough to know when she was being addressed anyways. Located in one of the stalls in the back, Mariam spent a great deal of time with the medium-heighted mare and may have gotten herself into the habit of stealing sugar cubes to slip to her whenever Mariam felt it appropriate.
Robert seemed a little intimidated, and worried about her behavior at first. He was a smart man, and a gentleman no less; he did not want her to feel so safe in the stables that she neglected to keep aware of her surroundings. Horses were unpredictable creatures; he knew all too well. Whenever Mariam would wander past his own prized horse's stall (Azure, was his name; a brilliant, tall, well-built gelding), Robert knew where he would find her by the time he'd made his way down the line. There were always three options: all three, he found confusing.
Eventually even his stable staff, the younger boys especially would walk a little too quickly for their shift that evening and Robert would cross his arms, watch with a stern gaze as they tried to work underneath his watchful eye and still sneak a glance at the beautiful woman at the end of the row; who was no doubt too old for them, and uninterested in anything besides the fact that they were young and kind-hearted.
Once the tall German beyblader had become accustomed to her presence in the barn, and she hadn't gotten hurt, he began to believe that perhaps she was more watchful of the horses than he thought; perhaps she read them better than first imagined. Plus she spent most of her time with the one horse in his stables that he could truly never see hurting someone. When the time came for him to walk into that breeding mare's stall, Mariam would be sitting on an old stool that needed replacing by now. Her hand would be somewhere on the kind palomino mare, or running fingers through the long white mane that he insisted needed to be cut. And each time, she would insist otherwise.
Mariam would look at him and blink her green eyes with a calm smile. "How's Azure?"
"He is fine; eager to get out of his stall for a work-out shortly." Arms behind his back, Robert watched in silence for a moment as the golden horse lowered her head and pressed her nose against Mariam's bare arm; requesting the attentive rubbing she had been getting before Robert distracted her personal masseuse. Mariam looked back at the horse and smirked, rubbing the blonde creature underneath the neck.
"That's good... She seems like she's doing good too." Mariam swept her long blue hair over one shoulder; and Robert wished for a moment that she would wear it up. So many things to hook her hair, to rip it here in the stables. And then he was reminded that while she was beautiful with whatever way she wore her hair... He quite preferred it when it was long and rolling down her back in waves that reminded him often of the sea.
"She does seem quite content." He stepped into the stall and opened the mare's custom cabinet built high into the insulated wall to remove her own grooming supplies. The bristled brush, the hoof pick, scissors just in case Mariam ever relented to cutting the girl's hair and a softer brush to make the mare's coat shine. "I have said it before, I will say it again; I did not expect her to be so well-tempered. Her mother was a handful, to put it lightly."
Mariam grinned a little and rubbed the sides of the mare's golden face; scratched gently at the white stripe between her eyes and extending down her nose. "Hard to believe..."
"It is. Even when foaling she is very mild-mannered." Robert watched the interactions between the former Saint Shields blader and the horse, and extended his arm; offering the bristled brush to Mariam. "Would you like to brush her?"
He hadn't asked her for quite some time if she wanted to help him do care for the horses; after all, she wore all of those gowns to impress his demanding parents and way-too-observant staff members and he doubted she wanted to get them full of horse hair and-... Well. Other things. But one day, on the rare occasion when she wore jeans (he missed the dress), he took the chance and asked her if she wanted to hold a leg while he checked a shoe. She jumped at the occasion.
So now he asked always, and she never said no. Mariam nodded and took the brush and began to comb the gentle female, leaving her stool. "I can't wait to see her foal this time... You said she keeps having girls?"
Robert nodded his head. "The last three of her young have been female. Do not misunderstand me; it is not crucial that offspring be male. I have ridden and competed against many female competitors that were more than a decent match." He smiled a little. "...But males do fetch a higher price; and they have a more battle-ready personality."
He supposed Mariam knew that all too well. Because, outside of his own horse Azure and the female palomino, the only other two horses Mariam seemed to make a special bond with were the absolute most troublesome horses in his 50-animal stable. A tall black male... A jumping champion who only the most experienced staff could care for. And the plucky little pony that Johnny had given him one year for Christmas (partly for a joke) with a penchant for biting.
"Hm... Boys decide the sex." Mariam looked at him with a cheeky smile. "It's not her fault."
Robert was forced to chuckle. "I don't suppose it is. But for competition purposes, racing, jumping, equestrian... You also strive to achieve a partner that is a lot more spirited; more-"
"Mean." Mariam smirked at him. "A horse with an attitude. Right?"
"Somewhat.. Yes."
Mari looked back at her gentle young girl and began to brush her side. "Her babies haven't had spirit...?"
"I am told they are as kind and gentle as their mother."
Mariam pursed her lips. She wasn't sure what to say to that; she understand fully well where Robert was coming from. Beyblading was much the same, and she was sure they both knew. Gentle, sweet competitors were a pleasure to battle against; but... No one ever seemed surprised when they lost. Someone who showed no fear, was a force to be reckoned with and almost a little violent... Now that was your true rival.
"Well, I like her anyways." Robert raised that eyebrow again at Mariam's statement, watched her shrug. "She just hasn't met the right guy yet and she hasn't had her proper chance. I think she'll make champions someday; just like Azure. Watch and see. ...For all we know she could be a champion herself."
Robert thought about it, and watched the horse chomp at some hay as if she gave not a care in the world that her stall had just become crowded. He'd worried about the mare's place in his stables for some time: thought about selling her to someone who needed for example a gentle pleasure riding horse. He had his doubts, about Mariam's hypothesis but he knew as well that horses surprised you. And sometimes they surprised you a lot. Who was he to doubt the young mare's potential?
"Perhaps you're right."
As he lifted a hoof and bent over to clean it, he couldn't help but muse internally. The radio was playing behind them; a band he'd come to recognize as Def Leppard (a little raucous for his taste, honestly, but it had grown on him), and he and Mariam had descended into silence again. He thought she loved all the horses. And she did; Mariam never neglected any of them. But he thought perhaps the dapple grey who was extremely fast on his feet would capture her fancy; or the brilliant chestnut that had taken to doing tricks for the extra apples Robert knew she snuck to them. Those horses, with talent abound that made eyes go wide and people in the stands clap, were the horses he assumed she would love the most. Or his Azure, a true champion with amazing stamina and a heart for competition maybe.
But no.
It was this horse... This gentle, loving horse. Or the black stallion at the very end who had just recently kicked a staff member so hard he had to take a week off from work. God, the first time he'd seen Mariam about to step into that stall had been the first time he found himself truly angry and truly frightened all at the same time.
That stallion was a menace; Robert himself had been bitten, nearly kicked and nearly thrown from his strong, tall back. He couldn't be used in show anymore; too vicious and too hard to control despite being tall, built for motion and absolutely beautiful. Racing perhaps; Robert would have to look into it, because the black's long legs were ideal. But for breeding purposes, the stallion was exquisite. All of his offspring, both male and female, had been fighters from the very beginning. Fast on their feet, spirited, energetic and once trained they made themselves quite the prize. The mother and her temperament usually counter-acted the brazenness of the sire to make balanced foals.
Speak of the devil.
Mariam and Robert both lifted their head as a telling cry of impatience left the black horse's stall. Another telling sound, the 'thump!' that signaled he had kicked out at his stall door again. When Robert turned his dark eyes to Mariam, she had a small smile on her face. The palomino mare between them raised her head and looked in the same direction as if to say 'What the hell are you complaining about now?'
He couldn't understand it. He could not understand why she was attracted to the animals that weren't ideal and were most definitely out of the ordinary.
Too gentle, not enough fight.
Too cruel, not enough compliance.
Her love for certain horses was only one of the things that left Robert's mind reeling at the end of the day. He wondered often why she seemed so fascinated by him. And by fascinated, Robert meant it.
Often he would find her watching him while he did the most common things. Brushing his teeth; discussing sales with an associate. Reading in his study or having a glass of scotch while he flipped through work documents. Mariam seemed like she was constantly trying to figure him out.
When he asked her why, she'd been bravely petting that black stallion against his words of advise; even fed him a sugar cube as if he deserved a reward for his foul temper. Robert was standing so near of course, because while he was not going to pull a lady's arm away in a rude manner, he would plan to step in should the horse act out violently. Mariam looked at him, had said, "Because you're strange."
He tried not to be offended, and tilted his head. "Strange?"
"Very strange... You're not normal, Robert. You're not very ordinary." Her emerald eyes went back to the black horse... He was calm for someone else besides Robert himself; a first that Robert had seen.
Robert blinked, and he made an indignant noise. "Hm."
Mariam turned to him then and smiled. "I like things that aren't ordinary."
Back to the present, Robert paused the hoof pick in his hand, and gently let the palomino mare's foot drop back to the stall door. He stood up, and peered over her back to find Mariam totally entranced in brushing out the smallest tangles from the blonde horse's white tail. Which, also, was getting too long.
Robert looked at the palomino's face, who seemed beyond happy to have two people care for her that day. He turned his head and watched the wild whip of black hair as his troublemaker tossed his head in frustration over nothing.
It had never occurred to him until then, that he had something in common with those horses.
MS: First take at a little MariamxRobert. Thoughts? I'll also take horse-crazy comments.
