He was screaming, the new arrival, that was. His screams and cries echoed across all the buildings and disturbed every living creature within hearing range. All perceived it as a scream of rage, of defiance. All but one single girl. She heard it for what it truly was: a cry for help. They were screams of a scared creature overwhelmed by his surroundings. As more people came to hold him down with rope, the louder he cried and the harder he fought against the people who were trying to keep him from rearing up. He was terrified, scared, and angry. He didn't like the way his purpose in life was to run for someone truly he loved, but rarely got to see anymore. It was a hard life he had, traveling and moving from place to place, being handled by strangers who either didn't know what they were doing or knew what they were doing but treated him as if he were dumb. He hated it, which is why he ran so hard. He was lonely, and only thought that if he ran hard enough, the one he loved would come to see him. Occasionally his loved one did visit, and he always felt encouraged and loved afterwards. He just wanted to be loved my any other creature is all.
The girl, she understood completely, for she was in the same situation as the stallion was. She had talent, and a gift besides. She could do what others most certainly couldn't. She just wanted an opportunity to prove herself, to show that she could be one of the greatest ever seen. But she worked in Six, the building that had the best pay and worst working conditions. The conditions were bad because not only did the craziest horses stay there more often than not, but she had to deal with rookie owners that had absolutely no idea what they were talking about and elite rich snobs that knew exactly what they were talking about but treated her as if it were her first day on the job every single time. More than half the time she didn't even listen to what orders she was given anyway. She took care of her charges however she wanted to based upon what they needed. Owners would come to yell and scream at her for not doing what they said, and she would just stand there and listen patiently until they asked why she didn't listen. Always she would wait for them to ask. When they did, she would look at the owner, look at her charge, look back at the owner and ask, "Does he or she not look happier and healthier than you've seen in a while?" Every single time the owners would stop talking and look at her charge. Her wilder charges would be more docile and even-tempered, and her calm charges would have an extra skip in their step. Most owners would storm off and grumble about people in her profession not taking orders, but they would stop complaining. Some would apologize and ask her to continue to do what she was doing. It was few who apologized and actually asked her what she was doing that they could do as well.
But all she really wanted – no, needed – was for someone to give her the opportunity to run with the others. The adrenaline rush that came from running with the others, the race itself, the feeling of flying over the track, she absolutely craved it. One day she knows she'll get the chance, it was the sole reason she worked in Six. The elite rich snobs had an eye for talent they want, and the rookie owners were always in desperate need of someone who was willing to take the risk and accept the challenge with them.
The girl watching the horse struggling against his ties, Lucy Ashley Heartfilia, aspired to be a jockey. She aspired to be one of he greatest jockeys that rode the greatest horses. She knew in every single part of her being it was what she was meant to do, what she was born to do. The only problem was she couldn't find to horse she was meant to ride. Sure she exercised the horses she took care of, and all of them ran smoothly and perfectly for her, always obeying her. Because of this she has had several offers from the poorest rookies to the richest elites to become their jockey. She politely declined every offer, explaining that she wasn't the one to race to horse. Some owners were incredulous and offered more money, but she declined again saying it wasn't about the money with her. She always found jockeys for those who offered her a job. A few weeks after, she would get letters of gratitude from both owner and jockey, who always went on to so pretty well for themselves. Many letters asked how she knew to pair up horse and rider. She replied that she just had a knack for it and that she knew how to use that knack very well.
Well, she nicknamed it her knack. In actuality, she was someone who had fey blood in her body from her great-great-grandmother who came from Ireland so many years ago. Every direct descendant female since has had strong fey gifts and Lucy's gift was why she understood the fighting stallion that was a couple hundred yards below her. Her gift was known only to a few of her close friends.
Lucy's attention was brought abruptly back to the blood bay stallion who screamed a scream of anger, a warning that he was going to attack. Her eyes frantically searched for the cause of the stallion's change in behavior. She saw it in the hands of the new stable hand, Bora. He was holding a tranquilizer gun and was talking to the men holding the stallion down. Lucy hated the way Bora used aggressive versus passive treatment to the horses in his care. But right now, the last thing the blood bay needed was more aggression. Lucy ran from her spot on the drive down to stable Six, hoping to get down there to stop Bora before he shot the stallion. Lucy swore as she looked down and saw the gun leveled at the tied down horse. She was about to scream "no" when Bora pulled the trigger. The stallion threw his entire body back, snapping the lead and tossing the grips the men had on the ropes holding him down. The dart flew past him and hit a groom, causing the groom to go down. The stallion broke out of the circle of men surrounding him and thundered up the long drive from Six. 'Damn but he could run' Lucy thought. She stopped running, stood in the middle of the drive, and threw her arms out to her sides. The stallion brayed at the new obstacle in his path and began to slow down fraction by fraction. Lucy just stayed calm and still. She stared down the horse with her big, brown, doe eyes. Her mother had once told her that her eyes were where her fey gift was the most useful. Lucy unconsciously used her eyes to persuade others to do what she wanted most of the time. However, when Lucy intentionally used her eyes for persuasion, time seemed to slow down and all her senses focused on the person or creature she was persuading. Once she caught the stallion's eye, she knew he would understand that he would either have to stop or plow her down.
As the horse barreled towards Lucy, Lucy didn't feel scared at all. On the contrary, she felt calm and collected, a sign she was using her persuasion correctly. Her focus was entirely on the beast running towards her, another good sign. All unnecessary sounds and sights drifted away from her. The general murmur of the crowds at the track, gone. The general sounds of the track, gone. The whinnies and neighs of the other horses, gone. The cries of the groom and stable hands yelling for her to move, gone. Time seemed to slow down, the final sign she was using her persuasion. The only things she heard were the slow, thunderous echoes of the stallion's hooves and the heaving of his tremendous chest as he continued on to her. The sight of the drive beneath her feet and the bushes along side it, gone. The sight of the roof of Six right beside her, gone. The sight of the blue sky above her, gone. The sight of the grooms and Bora and his stupid gun, gone. The only things she saw were the muscles that bunched and flexed beneath his beautiful bay coat that shined like fire in the sun and the wild look in his eyes. She tasted the confidence of the stallion, confidence that she would move out of his way. She smelled the sheen of sweat on the stallion's body that came from his exertions from a few moments before. She felt the vibrations on her feet from the impact of the stallion slamming his hooves into the drive.
She made eye contact with the stallion and saw all the anger, loneliness, and hurt held there. She felt sympathy for the horse, something she knew the horse rarely had felt for him. She knew the stallion was going to hit her. She'd accepted it. She knew she couldn't move away in time, and besides, she'd had worse injuries. Based upon the speed of the stallion and her own experiences, she knew the worst she could get were a few bruised ribs or a bruised bum or leg. Lucy put her arms down so the stallion could brush her to the side and closed her eyes.
She braced for impact.
Author's Note. I decided to write a story on Fairy Tail and what life would be like at the race track! This is my first fanfiction so I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are welcome!