Alllllrrriiiiiight! I looooove Proteus! I thought there needed to be a relaxed fic about him so here's a suggestion lol.
Calypso and Comet are my horse characters, while credit goes to TwoToTango for Ramses and Archimedes.
The Prince and his Horse
Calypso pawed the ground and put pressure on her bit, tugging the at the reins in her rider's hands. Obviously, the mare was ready to move on and the rider chuckled, "I'm going to enjoy this view, Calypso, whether you like it or not," His words were gentle despite the context. Calypso snorted and Proteus laughed. His mare, Calypso, had such a personality and always had energy to run further and faster no matter how long or hard she had been working before. Proteus knew well to take advantage of this and he was often outside the palace, tending to his horses and riding through the untamed wilderness of Syracuse. And almost as often, he was sleeping under the stars for days on end. He could hunt his own food well enough and the wilderness was an ally to him. He had established trails to a few locations, but generally he liked to wander. With horses like Calypso, Aphrodite, Ramses and Comet, it was impossible to get lost. They always knew they're way back, plus Proteus knew the land like his own room. This allowed him to simply enjoy the feeling of a good, sound horse underneath him and focus on the beauteous land he called home.
And today was no exception. Summer was coming to a close but a warm wind still filtering through colored trees, and the sun still shone strong and bright, warming those in its presence. Proteus drew in a breath stretching his neck and shoulders, letting the sun warm his skin and blue toned clothes. He gazed out over the landscape before him; spires of dark rock framed regal white buildings and were frothed with green foliage. The sun cast rays of gold upon Syracuse, illuminating the ocean and city in warm colors. A smile crossed his face and he felt blessed to not only live in the magnificent place, but to be the royalty of it. Calypso shifted and reached her head back to nibble his toes out of impatience.
Proteus looked down at his mare and gently tapped her muzzle with his foot and she pulled at the reins again. "Ok, girl. We'll get moving," he patted her shoulder and lightly put his calves into her sides. Calypso sprung into a trot and Proteus only spurred the horse faster. He leaned forward onto the mare's neck, giving her rein as she charged up a hill. Proteus loved the feeling of a horse in motion. He always had. Ever since he was young, he had been skilled in the art of horseback riding. All of his horses were trained solely by him. He had gotten most of them when they were young and ironed out the behavioral upheavals himself. Needless to say, he's had his fair share bucking, rearing, head tossing, crowding, pushing, counter-bending and everything else a young or inexperienced horse can throw at a rider. And Proteus loved every minute of it. Every ornery act made him more determined to teach the horse that he was the head honcho: to listen to him was beneficial. He did so lovingly and patiently. He was a kind, patient master. At the end of the day (or week, or month), the satisfaction of a well-behaved horse was the cure to the stress of being the only heir to a great empire. Proteus took great pride in his horses, and the city was starting to as well. He heard people boast about the prince and his horses.
Calypso's shoulders surged upwards with the incline and she focused on the terrain ahead of her. Proteus tightened his grip with his knees until Calypso conquered the hill. "Good girl! Good girl!" He scratched Calypso's neck, her muscles hot under his fingers. The mare tugged the reins ever harder and Proteus let her into a canter, but held her back, asking for her head. She obliged, tucking her head to her chest and her gait collected under her. Proteus relaxed in his seat and he rode like that for nearly and hour. Dusk was falling when they cantered into a clearing. Proteus reined his horse to a stop, "We'll camp here, Calypso," and he slid off her back, landing softly in the grass. He always rode bareback so there was no saddle to deal with, but he did have a small pack slung over the horse's withers with a thin leather collar around her neck. He removed the pack and used the reins as a lunge line to cool Calypso out. When her body temperature had cooled, he took the bit out of her mouth and let her loose to graze. She wouldn't wander off.
Now Proteus searched his pack for a bit of nourishment and found a small sack of dried fruit. He ate and watched Calypso roll in the grass with amusement. She was a beautiful horse: A dark liver chestnut with golden dun marbling in her shoulders and haunches. She also had the gold frosted in her mane. Her build was just as gorgeous with a slim, agile form and arching neck. Her face was well proportioned, her eyes large and kind. "She'd be an excellent mother and has good bloodlines. Maybe I should breed her to Comet or Ramses," Calypso was soon content, biting off juicy mouthfuls of lush grass. Proteus stretched out on the grassy earth, breathing deep. Even in the failing light, the sun still warmed his face. The darkness of night was deepening and Proteus rose silently. He heard a creek in the distance and softly called Calypso to him. She nickered and nudged him, then followed her master to the creek and she drank deeply from the clear, cool stream. Proteus also drank and afterward he splashed his face and neck with water.
He pulled off his vest and used it as a towel of sorts. Then he and Calypso returned to the camp site, the forest now bathed in silver moonlight. Calypso stood near the pack of supplies as Proteus unrolled a light blanket then removed his dark blue long-sleeved shirt and wide belt, using them as a pillow. He also kicked off his boots and reclined, hands behind his head, looking up through the branches at the moon and sky. Calypso snorted softly and stomped as if officially starting her watchful guard over her master as he slept. "Good night, Calypso," Proteus smiled and closed his eyes, slipping into sleep.
The next morning, the sun warmed Proteus's skin and he woke to find Calypso's muzzle in his face. He laughed and pushed the mare's nose away but she only nudged his shoulder, her whiskers making his skin itchy. He sat up, stretching, then stood and made his way back to the creek. This time, he dunked his whole head in the clear water and washed his arms up to his shoulders. He shook his head, and wrung out his hair, then returned to his campsite. He rolled up the blanket and supplies inside it and flung the pack around Calypso's neck, then gave her the bit and swung himself onto her back. He tucked his shirt under his leg. There was no one around and he would wait until he dried off before putting it back on. "No need to wear a damp, itchy shirt." He thought.
"Alright, girl. Let's start heading home." He reined the mare southward and set off at relaxed pace. Calypso weaved through ancient trees, scaled steep, rocky hills, waded through rushing streams and raced over wide, grassy fields. All the while, Proteus reveled in the familiar movements and feel of his mare. She was is first horse and he knew beyond a doubt that he could trust her in all types of terrain and footings. As he neared the palace and city (he had long since returned his shirt and belt to drape over his shoulders and hug his slim waist) through a short cut and trail he had forged, Proteus took one last look at the land that he knew so well, grateful for it and reluctant to leave it to return to the fickle politics of royalty, but he knew with comfort that it would always be there for him and his horses.