How to Train Your Horse

A/N: Most of this story is based on things I've observed and have been told by other experienced horsemen. If it sounds a little egotistical, I apologize, it's not my intent. I hope you enjoy it!

At a glance, Mojo didn't seem like the kind of horse to cause any problems. He was a nineteen-year-old Paint gelding with a rather large and round belly, and he loved to do nothing but eat all day long. He had neither the energy nor the inclination to be mean-tempered or nasty about anything, although if pressed he could get a little irritable. But he wasn't the kind of horse that bit or kicked. The worst he ever did was buck a bit, and even that was rare. He could be grumpy, but he had a reputation throughout the village for being a sweet and even-tempered horse, which made him great for working with kids. Sometimes Hiccup would ask Audun if one of the children from the village could ride his horse in order to get a better idea what it was like to ride a dragon without actually having to leave the ground. And Mojo never caused the kids any kind of trouble or harm.

But there was more to Mojo than met the eye. Despite his calm and quiet demeanor, he was a crafty and clever old gelding, and he knew how to use these traits to his advantage.

Particularly when he was being ridden by his aunts.

Hillevi and Alva had been trying unsuccessfully to get Mojo to do more than amble sluggishly along all afternoon. Audun, who had been trying to teach them how to ride, had been called to the village and had left them to their own devices (which probably wasn't a wise move on his part, but he figured Mojo was quite safe with his friends – he just didn't think about how his friends would be with Mojo). And for more than an hour, the two girls had taken turns riding the fat old horse around the pasture, each trying in vain to get him to go faster than his usual meandering pace.

The best Alva could get was a halfway decent walk, but this only lasted a few steps before descending again to a trudge. She growled and kicked Mojo hard in the sides with her heels, but Mojo merely snorted and refused to go faster. "Kick him again!" Hillevi suggested from the center of the field.

Alva did as told, but this accomplished nothing, unless you counted getting Mojo to toss his head. And then the horse veered to the middle of the pasture, completely ignoring Alva's attempts to steer him back to the rail. He came to a stop right beside Hillevi, and the message was quite clear: Okay. Your turn is over. Get off. Hi, Auntie Hillevi, have you got any food for me?

Accepting defeat, Alva slid down from Mojo's back, grumbling under her breath about the "stubborn old plow horse." Hillevi then took her place. Mojo's eyes took on what Audun would have recognized as a swift, calculating look, the look of a horse estimating his rider's skill level and how much work he'd be able to get away with not doing. Hillevi squeezed with her legs and pulled on the reins, directing Mojo to the fence, and the old horse complied, lowering his head obediently. "Ha!" Hillevi said triumphantly. "Now that's how you get this old horse to move!"

She'd spoken too soon.

Mojo had barely reached the rail before he slowed to almost a complete standstill. Hillevi blinked and looked down at the horse beneath her in surprise. Then she huffed and squeezed with her legs again. Mojo didn't respond. Another squeeze. Nothing. "Come on!" Hillevi grunted, and she gave Mojo a swift kick to the ribs. Mojo snorted and begrudgingly picked up the pace a little, but this didn't last long. Hillevi snarled quietly and kicked him several times in rapid succession.

Mojo started trotting.

Hillevi let out a startled "Eep!" and instinctively pulled back on the reins, bringing Mojo back down to a walk. The gelding snorted as if to say, "Well, you wanted speed. Make up your mind."

"Stubborn horse," Hillevi muttered.

"Why don't you just kick him?" Alva called tauntingly from the center of the pasture. Hillevi decided not to dignify this with a reply, though she did glare quite openly at her friend.

And then her eyes fell on an approaching figure, and she straightened in the saddle. "Hiccup!"

Hiccup, with Toothless just behind him, looked around at the sound of his name. His eyes quickly scanned over the scene, settling for a moment longer on Mojo, who had come to a dead stop in the middle of the field once again. "Are you, uh…having some trouble there?" he asked, approaching the fence a little warily.

"Yes," Hillevi huffed, sliding from Mojo's back. The horse bent his head down to graze, ignoring his aunt's attempts to pull his head back up. "We can't get this lazy horse to move. Do you think you could see what's wrong?"

Hiccup frowned. "You do realize that my specialty is dragons, right?"

Hillevi waved her hand airily. "Same concept, just without the flying," she said. "In fact, if you end up flying with a horse, you've got a big problem."

"That's comforting," Hiccup returned, but he stepped into the pasture and approached the horse, who eyed him shrewdly for a moment. He climbed into the saddle, ignoring the stirrups (the metal foot wasn't designed for them) and squeezing his legs against Mojo's side. Nothing happened. Hiccup squeezed harder, and this time Mojo walked a little begrudgingly. "Wow," Hiccup remarked. "He's difficult to get going…uhn!" He grunted as he applied more pressure with his legs, thwarting Mojo in his attempts to stop walking. He then repeated the squeeze, as every time he eased the pressure the gelding tried to halt.

"Does he trot?" Hiccup asked.

"Maybe," Alva answered. "If you beg and plead and promise him treats, he might."

Hiccup raised his eyebrows and then squeezed harder than ever and making soft clucking noises, which Audun had once demonstrated to him as the trot cue. He grimaced as his leg muscles screamed in pain, but Mojo did eventually break into a sluggish and lazy jog. "Yes!" Hiccup gasped, but his relief was short-lived. The moment he eased the pressure of his legs on the horse's side, Mojo resumed walking and then came to a complete stop again.

"Hiccup?"

The three friends looked around to see Audun standing at the gate, looking both puzzled and distinctly amused by what he was witnessing.

"Oh good!" Hiccup sighed, dismounting. "I don't know how you do it, Audun! Mojo just won't move for any of us."

Audun chuckled and stepped into the pasture. Mojo watched him, his ears perked in recognition. "Mojo is a special horse," he explained, taking the reins from Hiccup. "He is stubborn and lazy and absolutely refuses to work unless he absolutely has to. He doesn't listen to inexperienced riders because he knows they can't force him to go faster."

"But we were kicking the hell out of him!" Hillevi protested. "Even Hiccup, the best dragon rider on Berk, couldn't get him to trot for more than a few steps!"

"Hiccup's not used to Mojo's laziness," Audun said with a small laugh. "Toothless is always ready and raring to go. But Mojo would just rather not, and Hiccup's legs aren't used to that kind of demand." He then turned his attention to his horse, who huffed quietly, apparently happy to see his owner again. He reached out to pat the gelding on the neck. "I, on the other hand, have been riding him for almost ten years. I'm used to his quirks and problems, so my leg muscles are developed enough to handle him."

And without saying another word, he climbed into the saddle, applied firm pressure with his legs, and got Mojo to step into a brisk, march-like walk.

Alva, Hillevi, and Hiccup's jaws all dropped at once. Audun noticed and couldn't help but grin, though he said nothing. He squeezed a little harder and clucked, and Mojo broke into a medium-paced trot, snapping his legs up in perfect rhythm. His legs were steady and firm, keeping the lazy gelding moving forward. And it seemed to Hiccup, little though he knew about horses, that Mojo was actually enjoying the work. His head was relaxed, his ears tilted back toward his rider, his posture loose and at ease. Watching them, Hiccup thought he understood why Mojo listened only to his own rider. Audun and the horse shared something special, the same kind of bond that existed between himself and Toothless.

Audun asked Mojo for a canter, and the fat old horse broke into an energetic and forward three-step rhythm, his hooves pounding the ground and sending up sprays of dirt. And it was clear from the expression on Audun's face that he was very pleased with his friend's response. They slowed back down to a walk and then to a stop. Mojo stretched his neck out and shook his mane, snorting as his rider leaned forward to pat him fondly. "Good boy, bud," Audun murmured.

He dismounted (a little clumsily – nine years of riding had not cured him of his clumsiness in that regard) and hugged his horse's head gently in his arms. Mojo blinked and huffed quietly, allowing his owner to display his love for a few seconds.

Then he snorted and drew away, as if to say, "Come on, Dad, there are people watching!"

Audun chuckled and ruffled the horse's forelock. Then, turning back to his friends, he spread his arms to the side and asked with a cocky little smile, "So…any questions?"

A/N: I love my horse so much. :)