Sigurd didn't show up for dinner, but everybody else was there. Berwald was serving a huge tray of lasagne this evening accompanied with different salads and the hungry families and men didn't hesitate to taste it all. Søren was conveniently seated between Hákon and Tino, not without some quick thinking, as he has had smiled brightly at Tino and waved at him, making him chose "voluntarily" to sit beside him. But first he'd address Hákon:
"Sigurd isn't hungry?"
"He is on a hack and has some food with him," was his explanation. Søren noticed he saw Hákon with a clean shirt for the first time. The black was a true black and the red band name stood out brightly.
"He likes his alone-time, huh?"
Hákon made a strange face and shrugged.
"He's an introvert. And in his position, you don't get time alone very often unless you are on horseback."
"True," Søren said. And how come someone who was not even thirty years old got to have and manage such a place anyways? But he considered that this would probably touch a sensitive subject such as early parental death. Søren already suspected, that Hákon would protect their privacy with lion teeth. Thus he'd have to turn his head to the left, to the leek of the family.
"Tino, may I ask you something?"
Tino swallowed and nodded, smiling at him.
"Sure, go ahead!"
"Since when do you work here? Did you know Sigurd for a long time?"
Tino leaned back and tilted his head, thinking back.
"It must be eight-seven-ish years by now? Sigurd was looking for people helping him with this place. Old family, old houses you know? And as the old farmhouse wasn't inhabited for a long time, he had to renovate everything. Berwald was a childhood friend and volunteered, and I as his then boyfriend followed suit."
Søren nodded.
"So he inherited it from his parents?"
"Oh no, they are still alive," Tino laughed and shook his head. "But they offered him to live here. The Sigvessons still live in Bergen."
"And Sigurd chose to be here, even though his family seems to live in the expensive city of Bergen?" Søren asked further. That Sigurd really was a hippie.
"Yeah, he did," Tino said, glancing quickly at Hákon and looked then back at Søren. "It had something to do with a family scandal," he whispered. But he didn't need to as Hákon was talking with that small Swedish girl about her favourite pony.
"Do you know what kind of scandal?" Now that quickly got more interesting, Søren had to admit.
"Yeaaah," Tino looked up at the ceiling, probably trying to recall the details or considering whether or not he could go as far and tell him.
"Something to do with the stable Sigurd lived and worked at before."
"They kicked him out?"
"I can't tell you," Tino sighed apologetically. "And I don't care honestly. Both Sigurd and Hákon don't talk about it anymore." Tino smiled softly yet proud. "Sigurd is a friend and I only judge what I see for myself. And what I see is a gifted person, trying to give horses a good life and helping riders with their problems."
"I respect that," Søren said. That was it with investigating that Sigurd. He would have to continue on another path then.
And besides, they were interrupted with the serving of the dessert anyways. Blueberry cake and cookies.

The next morning Sigurd was back, but told Søren to occupy himself until the afternoon, as he had to work on some paper work first and then ride two other horses. That way Søren found himself helping Hákon again on a hack, this time not only with the young couple, but the Swedish girl joined them as well. They would leave tomorrow, and she wanted to go on a last hack with her favourite Fjordhorse Rån. She told him on their way, that Rån was quite eccentric, as the sea, and Hákon was first reluctant to let her ride that horse, until Sigurd stepped in and let her try. She wanted to try her, as she fell in love with the grey coat and the gentle eyes as that greeted her when she stood by the pasture for the first time.
"She chose me," the girl grinned and Søren smiled back. Children and horses managed to have a bond that almost seemed magical.

Upon returning, Hákon and Søren gave her time to say good bye. They let her take care of Ran by herself, which left Søren and Hákon standing in the tack room, trying to find an excuse to not separate the far too cute couple. For Hákon, this was easy. He could just take out the saddle he had used and start cleaning it with a special kind of soap to moisturise the leather. For Søren who had nothing of his own in here, it was more difficult. And so he leaned against the door and watched Hákon work.

He had to know about that scandal. He was Sigurd's brother after all. Maybe he'd also know how Edvard and Sigurd got to know each other. Yes, that was a better starting point, than `hey, what did your brother do to create a scandal and get kicked out of a stable, ruining his career and choosing to live a hermit life? By the way, nice shirt.' Søren nodded to himself and set up his curious smile, tucking his thumbs into his waistband, creating a casual look.
"You know, my friend actually recommended this place and said that Sigurd would be the guy being able to help me. But he refused to tell me how he got to know Sigurd. Do you know the story by any chance?"
Hákon only looked up briefly before returning to the dark brown leather.
"Sigurd helps every guest that wishes to pass time here. He also gives lessons and clinics outside. You need to be more specific."
Søren puffed his cheeks and nodded. Of course.
"His name is Edvard van de Houten. A Dutch show jumper, quite known actually as he was part of the Dutch Team as the reserve in the last Championships."
Hákon furrowed his brows slightly, thinking back but not stopping his work.
"I think I know who you mean. Tall, blonde, smoking and silent?"
Søren smiled as he nodded.
"Exactly, that must be Edvard. Can you tell me more?"
Hákon only smirked and looked at Søren this time, again with that mischievous glance in his eyes.
"Why don't you ask your friend yourself?"
"Because he is a damn cryptic and takes fun in letting me run around guessing."
"I know, why Edvard and Sigurd get along so well," Hákon teased.
"Then tell me, please," Søren asked with pleading eyes. "They both don't talk much about their past and I need to know."
"Why?"
This time it was Søren who had to think a second before answering.
"Because I want to know more about my friends."
"Even when they refuse to tell you?"
"I am too curious, I know," Søren admitted. But both Edvard as well as Sigurd didn't make it easy either.
"What I can tell you is, that Edvard and Sigurd know each other already for some years and Sigurd did help Edvard occasionally."
"Did they get to know each other through competitions?" Søren asked. Now he was on the right track.
"Not directly. Maybe." Hákon sighed and threw the sponge he had in his hand softly into the small bucket with soap water.
"Please, Hákon," Søren said but in vain.
"Ask Sigurd and Edvard yourself. I can't decide over what Sigurd wants to share with you over his and Edvard's past."
Søren sighed in defeat.
"Alright. See you then for lunch." And he left the tack room with his desire for knowledge burning even brighter in his chest.

Lunch was delicious, Sigurd was silent throughout, Hákon and Berwald on the run between greeting the new guests and eating, Peter and Tino talking about school. Later on Sigurd managed to make the lesson with Søren both boring and interesting at the same time. Walking in circles on Odin, doing breathing exercises with Sigurd explaining what they did, how he could use them and how they would benefit him for the later work, not without always interjecting a body awareness minute so Søren would relax better.

Upon dismounting, Søren felt the hard and crumbling feeling of frustration and yet he was relaxed and relieved. He hated that feeling and he was glad that Sigurd would leave him alone to instead take care of his other tasks. It left him with his thoughts alone, to occupy himself with taking care of Odin, to damn everything here to hell and to then enjoy the sight of Odin joining the other ponies, happily grazing and playing in the field. And this way the days would pass.

In the mornings Søren helped Hákon with the beginners, helping the other guests taking care of the horses, joining them on the hacks, would receive the permission to tölt on the last kilometre, eat lunch, have a frustrating slow lesson with Sigurd only relaxing, breathing, concentrating, sorting his thoughts, feeling himself and the horse move. In the evenings he played board games or cards with the others who seeked company by the main house, wrote to his sponsors, to his friends, would even take out a book from his book shelf and read some. The hunt for Edvard's and Sigurd's past was on hold for the moment.

That was until Sigurd joined Søren to get Odin from the pasture, with his own halter and rope.
"Today we will mix things up and have some fun," was Sigurd's explanation before he called for the two horses. Odin and Tyr.
They prepared them each in silence, Søren giddy though, wanting to know what they would do. As he wanted to go and get his saddle, Sigurd stopped him.
"Have you already mounted bareback?"
That question bewildered Søren but he nodded.
"Yeah, when I was younger, I used to do that a lot."
"Good, then only get the bridle."

When both were mounted in front of the stable, Sigurd made them walk into the forest. Søren's thoughts spun around wildly. For one, the horse's back was very warm and he sat quite comfortably. But it was slippery and he knew he'd have to concentrate to keep his balance should they do anything fancier than walk. For another, Sigurd was riding alongside him, on this dark brown Icelandic horse which had a white mane and tail. He looked completely at ease sitting on the slippery horseback, giving his horse long reins in the beginning.
"So, I guess we do this to better my balance on horseback and that I won't fall asleep during your lesson?"
Sigurd raised a brow at that and looked at him amused.
"And to make you learn to trust yourself and your horse more and maybe even another lesson."
"Great and you won't keep it boring, as you promised me once upon a time."
"My lessons and boring? No, of course not. It will get more exciting, fret not," Sigurd retorted without sparing Søren a glance.
Søren took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. Of course.
And soon enough, he was trotting uphill, whishing he was riding an Icelandic horse such as Sigurd did, in order that he could instead ride the much more comfortable tölt, as Sigurd did.

After five minutes and a quick gallop, Sigurd slowed down Tyr to a walk and took a turn to his right, leaving the broad way to instead let the horses walk onto a small path. The undergrowth became denser and twigs and leaves brushed over Søren's body and face. He was just about to ask whether Sigurd would lead him to his faerie homestead, when the forest got more light and open and Sigurd made his horse halt.
"Here I've got a small cross-country track. If you feel up for it, we will have some fun."
Søren looked around him and truly, there was small jump built out of branches stapled up on each other, a small path leading towards it and continued even farther into the forest. If all the jumps were that small he guessed it would be alright. Right?
"Sure! Much better than just sitting and breathing in the arena."
Sigurd's lips twitched upwards for a moment before he turned Tyr around.
"Hope you can keep up with me," he said as his horse already jumped into gallop.
Søren swallowed down his growing anxiety and the first question popping up into his head, whether or not it was safe at all to jump here. He gave signal to Odin and followed in a safe distance.

To gallop was much better and he felt how he was more steadfast despite the heightened pace. Then the jump. A jump that would not be forgiving. Nothing would fall down or yield to the pressure of something touching, running into, falling onto it. Sigurd already flew over it with ease, almost perfect conduct before, over and after the jump. It was definitely not the first time for him to jump such an obstacle. Gritting his teeth, he relaxed his shoulders, reassured Odin with a nudge of his legs and let the horse do the rest.

The rest of the course went by in a blur. All he saw was the flying tail of Tyr, the same colour as the small strands of hair of Sigurd which peeked out from under his helmet. He saw the blue shirt of Sigurd fluttering in the wind, the green leaves and twigs passing around him, occasionally brushing against his body as they galloped, jumped and bucked through the trees.

Odin was apparently happy to do this. Not only once he bucked after a jump, picked up pace, flung his tail around sassily. The jumps were of different sizes and shapes. More branches, a whole tree, a small creek, stone walls, uphill and downhill. When Odin jumped like a goat over a bush instead of jumping round and normal, Søren almost fell down, but managed to pull himself up again on the long mane and laughed. He patted Odin for trying his best and concentrated then on catching up with Sigurd.

Eventually Sigurd halted Tyr and gave him the long reins. The sweaty horse huffed and shook his mane. Søren followed suit and couldn't contain his smile on his lips. His and Sigurd's cheeks were rosy from the exertion and wind.
"That was amazing," Søren laughed out of breath and patted Odin.
"It was fun, yes," Sigurd said and he too had a shy smile on his lips. "And best of all, you completed it all without falling and with a smile." That is how riding should be.
Søren nodded slowly. That much was true.
"I didn't even have time to think," he explained slowly.
"And your mind was too occupied with other things. You had to concentrate on many things at the same time as well as that the obstacles weren't too high either."
Søren sighed.
"Still. I can't continue to jump so small and only in nature," he explained and looked earnestly at Sigurd, who returned the expression but with a hint of softness in his features.
"It will come with time. Now take this positive experience and nail it down into your thick skull."
"Alright, you are the teacher," Søren said and his sly smile returned on his lips. "And I am not the only thick head here."
Sigurd smirked back.
"No, no you are not."

The ride back was silent. Søren used it to enjoy to listen to the steady rhythm of the hooves, the birds singing in the trees and the rustling of the leaves over them. Sigurd apparently did the same, had even his eyes closed from time to time. How Søren got that information? It may be that he caught himself peering at Sigurd. At his sharp jawbones, his trained arms, how even when he was relaxed, he sat with the perfect posture and the lightly curved back. He noticed the chapped lips, the silver glint in his hair, and the midnight blue eyes that turned towards him, and Søren quickly returned his gaze back on the path in front of him. He didn't want to find for a dumb excuse for having stared at Sigurd.

So instead he broke the silence.
"My friend who recommended your place and help actually knows you," he started. It resulted in Sigurd raising a brow and glancing at him.
"They do?"
"Yes, Edvard van de Houten. Dutch Show jumper?"
A small knowing smirk transformed his lips.
"Guessed so when you blurted out his first name. He confirmed it so himself when I asked him."
"So you do know him?"
"Yes." Now Sigurd turned his head and regarded Søren interested and knowingly. "I helped him, he helped me, we keep in contact and occasionally we meet up when it fits."
"He never told me about you until the accident," Søren commented.
"We both are not very talkative," answered Sigurd. If it was a sign to end the conversation, Søren willingly ignored it.
"No shit." He chuckled and used now the opportunity to look at Sigurd without shame. He looked indeed like a mountain hippie wizard. Maybe even better. "Still. I am interested how an International Show Jumper gets to know and help a mountain wizard and the wizard returns the favour."
Sigurd tilted his head and blinked slowly before looking back at Søren. "And you are very curious." He sighed and shrugged. "It was actually the other way around. I helped him with his horse and when I didn't have a place to stay at he took me in."
"Oh," said Søren. So it must have been at least five years ago, before he moved with Edvard to that Dutch stable. "So you both rode at the same place?" he asked and received a nod as an answer.
"Yes, I trained there for cross country beside my studies. Edvard was there as well with his new horse." Sigurd's face was illuminated by a small batch of sunlight for a second before he was in the shadow again.

Søren hesitated. He wanted to ask so much more, but everything would have been too frank, too blunt, too direct. So he just looked straight ahead again. They would be soon back at the stables.
"Shame you stopped going on competitions though," Søren eventually said. "Would have been fun meeting you, a mountain hippie in such a serious environment" He meant it all in good fun but as he looked over, Sigurd regarded him with calculating eyes, before he offered an amused smile. "I know for a fact that not everybody is as serious as you about competitions. It's not always about winning. It is actually allowed to start to have fun. Even on higher levels." Søren's face tensed up, his eyes darting quickly aside, before looking at Sigurd again.
"I know that of course," he said. Or better he had known. It all started out with fun and then? He didn't really know when it had stopped being fun anymore and it all has become business, competition and stress. "But when you want to be part of the Championships, you also need to be serious with training, organising, please the horse owners and such…"
"Sure, but why go through such trouble if it's no fun to compete anymore? You could as well just train the horses, give lessons and such..." he mimicked Søren's tone of voice and arched an eyebrow whilst waiting for a response.

Søren took a deep breath, reminding himself for the thousandth time why he did all of this:
"Because it is my dream to win at the Olympics. Gain the first Gold medal in Show jumping for Denmark." He smiled as he looked up, at the light kissed leaves, the shadowy twigs and branches. "I want to give other kids the hope that they too can fulfil their dreams if they work hard enough for it. Even without some rich parents." He looked over at Sigurd, chuckled at himself and looked sheepishly over again.
"It is maybe a bit embarrassing that I still chase after my childhood dreams."
But Sigurd shook his head. "No," he said softly. "If the dream could last so long through all the hardships, you should definitely grit your teeth and solve this problem. You are so close after all."

Søren could spare his heartfelt response, as Sigurd's phone rang, which he answered. His face grew darker and his lips were in a thin line when he didn't talk. Søren didn't have to understand a lot to know, that one of the horses needed a veterinary. When Sigurd ended the phone call, his face was looking worried through small changes in posture, gaze, tense jaw and lips. "If you don't mind I'd like you to take care of both of the horses. One of the others has a colic."