Here's where the story begins in earnest.
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC.
The whole situation with the horse came as a bit of a surprise actually. He didn't think that They were really going to make such a big deal about his request. But at the start of the day he was told point blank that while he was allowed to ride for very specific scenes under strict supervision, They would not be granting him a horse. And They most certainly would not give him a horse to let him joust, so don't even think about it. He could stand next to the horse and give his lines but the real jousting would be done by someone with some experience and without a name.
"But Arthur does his own stunts," he argued, "and he has a name."
"No jousting," was all They said. "No horse."
He couldn't understand it, just a matter of days ago he had had no name and They were perfectly content to pelt rocks and arrows at him. But now that They had gifted him with a name he wasn't even allowed to mount a horse. One would certainly think that dodging an arrow took more experience than riding a horse. But as always, Their word was law. No jousting, no horse. Did a name really make such a difference? If so, Leon no longer wanted his.
The guy who would be filling in for him was nice enough about it. Leon pretended that he wasn't fuming and tried to be polite when the guy introduced himself as the stuntsman. He was of Leon's height and had similar enough features to him that if you didn't look to close, he could pass for Leon (at a distance, on a cloudy night, from behind). There was something bland and forgettable about the stuntsman though that made it hard to focus directly on him when he wasn't in plain sight. Leon wondered if he himself had seemed like that to the permanent and the named before everything was changed. It wasn't a pleasant notion.
Leon stood with the stuntsman in the industrial stables waiting as They chose a horse from the supply for "Leon" to ride. He wasn't sure why he needed to be there for this process, it wasn't like he had any say in the matter. They had horses of every size, shape, and color stored away for any situation that might arise. A group of Them were clustered around a stall marked as containing a 15 hands high Blue Roan. A flashy enough horse just right for a young noble at the court, but was it up to the job of its knightly duties? Arguing the merits of that horse versus one farther down the row, the group of Them strolled off, the stuntsman faithfully tagging along behind. Leon stayed where he was, just to see if anyone would notice. The group continued on without a backward glance. Right, he knew when he wasn't needed. Sighing, whether from melancholy or relief he couldn't say for sure, Leon made his way in the opposite direction.
Walking between the stalls, Leon felt a shiver trickle down his spine. It felt like a large blanket had been dropped on the industrial stable. The sound of the other group faded quickly and even his footsteps, the only audible sound in the room, were muffled and came to him thick and slow through the surrounding air. It was bad enough walking through the store room sometimes, but this was much worse. All the horses were visible in their stalls standing upright and facing the middle aisle but all were absolutely motionless.
Turning off the main aisle Leon found another little hallway with a row of horses on either side. One horse in particular caught his eye. The right stall second to the end had no mark on the door. Despite its lack of an official sign of occupation the stall contained a beautiful black horse much taller than the Roan and infinitely more subtle in appearance.
At the stall door Leon leaned against the wood and surveyed first the occupant of the stall and then the surrounding horses. Each horse was expertly groomed and in fit condition but an air of neglect hung over all of them, like new toys that had been packed away after only one use. Sighing again Leon gently stroked the black horse's nose. The pink flesh at the very tip was the softest he had ever felt. This horse, out of all of them relegated to this overlooked corner, looked the most worn. This was a toy that had gotten a lot of use once upon a time but was for some reason cast aside or forgotten.
"I feel like someone who's been overlooked too" Leon whispered to the horse. "Less recently than before they noticed me, but in some ways I've been feeling more useless and redundant than ever."
The horse made no reply. Leon continued to stroke the horse idly, wondering whether they would just recast his part if he failed to show up to the jousting grounds on time. So lost in thought was he that it took him several seconds to realize that his knuckles were being dusted with a slight moisture. Several more seconds led to the recognition that this horse had begun breathing which could only mean one thing. Diving headfirst into the stall, Leon only just managed to get out of sight before one of Them came around the corner.
The first thing that struck Leon as he peered out between the slats of the stall door was how odd it was to see one of Them alone. They were very much of a pack mentality as far as he could tell. This one was dressed like all the rest and had a very official feel despite being solitary. This one carried a key in its fist which was used to open a metal box at the mouth of the hallway. Craning his neck Leon watched as a code was keyed into the pad. A light blinked blue and then faded. The box was closed and secured once more.
Watching the retreating solitary figure Leon let out the breath he had been holding since he'd dived into the stall. That's when the horse above him reared. Yelping in surprise, Leon rolled out of the way of the descending hooves. The horse reared again and Leon leapt to his feet. Hand out he caught the horse's bridle in his fist and yanked its head toward him. Hooves danced about and the black horse tried to bite him. He jumped back again but kept a tight hold. Looking the horse squarely in the eye he whispered, "I'm not one of Them."
The horse continued to dance about but quieted enough to study him. Deciding he wasn't much of a threat the horse finally came to a standstill and began snuffling around Leon's pockets for food. Trying to keep his fingers out of harm's way, Leon proffered the bit of apple he had brought for to the horse They were going to choose for him. The horse nipped near his fingers but took the food without protest. Only then did Leon notice that all the other horses were awake too and that the solitary figure was coming back.
This one of Them carried a feedbag on each shoulder, a feat Leon knew he couldn't match. Crouching down where he hoped he wouldn't be seen, Leon put a finger to his lips as the black horse lowered its head to Leon's shoulder. Having finished the apple bit the horse began to nibble at the brand new red cloak that Leon had been issued. Swatting the horse away Leon prayed the movement had gone undetected.
The horses shrieked as the solitary figure drew near them but soon forgot their fear at the appearance of food in their buckets. The figure spoke to them and whispered words that Leon could not hear. This too was different. It almost seemed like the figure was comforting them, but that couldn't be right. Where was the institutional feel? Where was the coldly clinical treatment that he had come to expect?
The figure at last came to the end of the row. Passing by the black horse the figure fed the neighboring horses before turning back to Leon's stall. The horse began to stomp its feet once more in agitation. Setting the feedbag down the figure reached out a hand to stroke the horse's nose exactly as Leon had moments before. The figure's fingers were centimeters away when the horse moved faster than Leon had yet seen biting down hard on the fleshy skin between finger and thumb. The figure made not a sound but Leon felt a wave of pain and saw the figure remove his hand. Through the brief agonizing haze Leon thought he might have heard the figure murmur, "I'm sorry."
Footsteps, the unlocking of a metal box, then silence, the black horse next to him frozen as a statue once again. Voices, "are you done?" and "yes, I have finished." Then, there came a brief period of whispering and "we have to find him." Then the fading of two pairs of footsteps. Leon felt the blanket drop down on the stable once more. It weighed more than he remembered and he tried popping his ears to relieve some of the weight, feeling as though he had been dropped down a well very quickly. Were They looking for him? If so, that was a first.
Getting to his feet Leon dusted off his knees and tried to pull off stray bits of straw and horse hair. The horses were heartbreakingly still again; solidly frozen in positions reminiscent of the actions they had been caught in. The black horse's neck stretched to the side in an arc. Leon ran his fingers over the taut sinews and shivered at the coldness. Skin that no longer felt like skin and muscles that should have been burning with blood transformed into lifeless granite. Leon drew his hand away and wrapped the cloak more tightly around him.
He swung himself back over the gate trying to get some warmth back into his suddenly chilled limbs. It was bad enough knowing what happened to items not in use, but seeing it en masse made it ten times worse. Jogging down the aisle Leon paused at the corner to take one last look at the second to last stall. From afar the view was almost peaceful but Leon couldn't shake the fear that was blossoming in his chest.
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