Bonjour! I grandly return with an addition. I can't sleep so I am now
typing this and am distracted because something in the sink smells like
mildew...
Well, I wish to thank my 1 and only reviewer of the last chap, who was anonymous. Thank you mystery person. Now, on with the show!!!
Disclaimer: I always forget to add this, but basically, if you recognize it, it ain't mine. TP owns it. Thanx..
Chapter Four: Tasks
"Hello?" Daine pounded on the heavy door. "Guys?"
Wind opened it, though not without a bit of strain. "We're ready, but Willow is making us wait a minute."
Willow heard the nobles at the door and then heard Wind open it, probably pulling something at the same time. She hastily put threw on breeches and a shirt, and then stumbled out of the bathroom, yanking on her boots. "You know, I don't even know why I even put on that stupid nightdress." She was hopping on one foot, struggling with her right boot. She got it on, stood up straight and looked around to find everyone staring at her.
Numair and Daine were hiding giggles behind their hands. River and Wind were laughing outright. Even Ema was fighting smiles. Willow was astonished. Did she grow another nose or something? She looked down, turned very pale, and made a break for the bathroom.
She looked in the mirror and saw the mess she was in.
To start, her shirt was inside out. Then her breeches were backwards. She blew her nose earlier and trail was left going across her cheek. The powder she used to clean her teeth was sprinkled on her chin and dusted her other cheek up to her ear. Her curls, in their disarray, stuck out in all directions and one was even stuck to the slimy trail on her face.
'No wonder they were laughing!' she thought to herself. 'I look like I got dressed in the dark!'
She cleaned her face, brushed her hair, and righted her clothes.
Then she nervously stepped into the room.
River spotted her first and smiled. Wind was still rolling on the floor. Ema pretended not to notice and was cleaning the breakfast and tea leftovers, nudging Wind in the ribs with her foot.
Willow downright refused to look at the nobles.
"Now that everyone is, um, ready," Daine said and Willow could hear the grinning in her voice, "lets go meet Stefan."
They followed the nobles out the door, first a still- chuckling Wind, a horrified Willow, and after grabbing his last dagger and putting it back into place, an amused River. They left Ema in the room to finish her job in peace.
"So far, we've been shown two libraries, six ballrooms, three dining rooms, the kitchen, nineteen corridors the go to the kitchen, the pages, squires, and knights hallways, and forty five classrooms and studies." Wind counted them off on his fingers.
They walked together a few paces behind Daine and Numair. They had just taken them on a LENGTHY tour of the castle.
"We left the room about, oh, two hours ago. We'll HAVE to find a shorter route to the stables." Willow joked, yawning. They all had puffy eyes- a result of sleep deprivation, but were fairly alert and attentive.
"Hey Wind, tell me something." River spoke to his younger brother. "How come you can remember all THAT, but when I tell you something important, like oh- feed the mules, remember, at Sparrows Peak- it 'skips your mind'?" River smiled, looking at the boy expectantly.
He heaved an exaggerated sigh," Just lucky I guess." Then smiled comically.
"Willow you will always be my favorite sibling."
"What can I say? I'm perfect." She gloated, being silly. Her brothers simultaneously rolled their eyes.
The Smells of horses and hay got stronger as they walked in that direction. Soon other odors became more apparent- horse soap, saddle polish, and the tang of sweat and metal.
Quickly enough, they reached their new jobsite- they largest, grandest stables they had ever seen. Rows upon rows of horses, two walls full of tack and literal barrels of new horseshoes. They saw three tables full with combs and brushes, rags and cleaners, and virtually every kind of horse medicines made.
When Daine walked in, all of the animals walked to the front of their stalls and voiced their hello.
Daine greeted them as a group, and then asked them to behave and told them she visit later. Most seemed contented with that, but a few refused that offer, so she was forced to greet them individually by giving them bits of carrot and sugar lumps from her pockets.
She was just petting the last one, a strawberry mare, when a man in his forties appeared with a bit of a belly, hair as straight as straw, and the same color, in a sleeveless shirt that had a strake of horse slobber on it. His pockets bulged with what looked like a couple of apples and some carrot and sugar treats, and his bare arms were well muscled.
He had a pleasant enough face and his eyes sparkled with a cats' curiosity.
He said, with a bit of a commoner accent," Daine now wha' are ye doin' in 'ere gettin' 'em all excited for? The chestnut I was jus' workin' wiv' near dragged me down the row tryin' to get to ye." He scolded her, but with a grin.
"Dreadfully sorry Stefan, but I brought you a present." she apologized in a singsong voice.
"Oh goody!" he clapped and jumped up and down like a young child.
Numair and Daine stepped apart to reveal three teenagers; all with looks so similar it was uncanny- ravens black hair, pert noses and amethyst stares. They bowed their heads in greeting, but spoke not a word. Stefan eyed his "gift" suspiciously. "I don't understan'. I can barely stan' me own son. Don't need no more- daughters neither."
"Stefan." Daine gave him a "cut-it-out" no-nonsense look. "These are stable hands. You needed more- here they are."
A look of realization (and relief) washed over the old hostlers face. "Oh."
Daine chuckled softly.
"This," Numair said, "is Willow," she waved a tiny wave, "Wind," he did the same, "and River. They are travelers, or were, but if you take then on they can stay here, build a new life." He played on Stefan's sympathy.
A conflict disputed itself in Stefan's mind for a moment while he stared at the road beaten, half-starved, suntanned kids. They looked like hard workers, the two smaller ones, but the big one looked up to mischief. But aren't all teenage boys at one point or another? His own was a joker and so was the other male stable hand, who was almost twenty. Given the right job, perhaps, he may be the best worker. Well........ He sighed, and nodded.
The look in the girl's eyes tore at his heart and was all the thanks needed, but then the smaller boy nodded, in a silent thank you, and the bigger boy grinned from ear to ear. "How are ye wiv' horses, Willow was it?"
"Yes sir. We've all worked with all kinds of creatures, and our whole lives, and know most things about all beasts. We get on with horses just fine. We can take care of tack; know about shoes and different ailments they may have. We ride too, if need be, both saddle and bareback. We can also repair pretty much anything you can find for us around the stable." She said, looking a bit sick. She was incredibly nervous.
Stefan smiled to let her know that he didn't bite. "Well then," Stefan smiled, a trick up his sleeve, "Ye- Wind. Go get me a blue roan wiv' black stockins. She needs her shoes changed. Do tha' fer me too." Wind looked at his sister, bother, new boss, and then scampered off to find the animal. "Ye- River. There is a geldin' in 'ere wiv' ear mites. He 'as a list and also needs to be readied wiv' a sidesaddle fer a lady. Go ready 'im and treat those little buggies." River promptly trotted away, in search.
Willow awaited her instructions, but none came. After a few minutes, she stopped worrying about it and impatiently watched for her brothers.
After another minute, Wind turned the corner leading the roan. She was a pretty thing and seemed a bit smitten with her new hostler. She easily worked for him as he tied her up and set to work on the metal foot ware.
A he left to get a different hammer, River returned walking a fine, gray gelding. He already had the ear mite treatment in his hand, along with swabs. He gently tethered him and eased the itchiness in the horses' ears.
By the time he'd finished that, wind had been back and had removed one of the mare's shoes. He had replaced it and was in the process of finishing up the second shoe when River returned with a sidesaddle and blanket.
They finished one after the other, and Stefan set to examining their work.
'A neat job on Nightingales shoes, and she seems fascinated wiv' him. Bitta is relieved of his persisten' ear mites, for the time bein' and is ready fer Lady Catherine to ride 'im.' He thought to himself. 'Well, lets see if the girl can do as good.'
"Good. Wind, put Nightingale back in 'er stall. River put Bitta over in tha' exercise ring, by a water trough. I'll be back wiv' somin' fer ye girlie."
He walked off, leaving a very anxious Willow. Daine and Numair seemed amused. They had known, on some level, that Stefan would do something like that, and Daine had a feeling what Stefan had in mind for Willow, poor thing. A stallion, yet to be broken, arrived a few days before. He was as wild as anything and wasn't exactly a people-horse. Stefan was gonna trick her into trying to ride him.
Sure enough, when Stefan returned, he lead a giant brown and white paint, with one blue eye, one brown. He had three brown stockings and one white one, and a dark brown mane and tail. He didn't wear a bridal, but was lead by a rope about his neck, which he fought. Even Stefan was a teensy bit weary around him. That should have been Willows first clue.
Willow turned into a ghost. She saw a brown and white tyrant that promised her death.
"This 'ere is the newes' member of our little family. Bridal 'im, saddle 'im, exercise 'im, and try not to kill yerself." Stefan said, then handed her the rope. She grasped it in her tiny, white knuckled hand and stared into the beast's merciless eyes, which were as different as night and day.
At this time, she was merely nervous because this was her task. But when she tethered him, tried to put on his bridal, then had a HEAVY hoof on her foot, the knowledge of her job was sinking in, getting more and more worse with further she understood. The horse whinnied and fought the bit. He constantly tried to shake the leather and metal contraption off his head. After that, Willow had a terrific time keeping him still long enough to drape the blanket on his back.
When she managed to do that, she turned her back for a second to grab a saddle. In that moment, a fiery anger swelled in the stallions eyes and he reared, throwing off the blanket, half shaking off the uncomfortable bridle and spitting out the bit, and breaking the stable door he was bound to. The instant he knew he was free, he bolted for an exit.
Willow whirled around to see her charge galloping for an open door. She flew after, but it was futile . Out of NOWHERE, a figure leaps down from the loft. They closed the door and grabbed the mustang's tether, all in one swift, fluid motion. They dragged all of their weight down on the rope, forcing the stallion down, and got kicked in the shin for his efforts.
"Ah- Gods!" an accented male voice gasped.
Luckily, the stallions reared stance was halted and all four, unshod hooves returned to the ground. He snorted his last defiant remark and shook his head in frustrated acceptance.
Willow reached the monster and his captor.
"Thank you." She genuinely appreciated what he did for her, and then heaved a great sigh. He cocked an eyebrow. He had hair like Stefan's: exactly like straw, and his even had some sticking out of it. He had green eyes that were mocking her, she just knew it. He wore a sleeveless shirt and breeches as well, but was well muscled all around, unlike Stefan.
"Oh- that is me son, Bowen." She heard Stefan call.
"So that explains it....." she breathed, very low.
"Wha' did you say girl?" he asked examining, absorbing her shape in the way guys do. (A/N: hey guys why do you do that? Really, tell me, it's a bit annoying on the girls' part)
Her eyebrows knitted together in irritation. She didn't like his tone- arrogance it sounded like. "I have a name you know. I refuse to answer to 'girl.'" She tartly replied.
"Sorry- Willow, River, Wind, this is Bowen. He is another hostler 'ere as well. You'll be workin' wiv' 'im, so get used to 'is pert remarks." Stefan called. Bowen smiled sarcastically at his father, and then his emerald stare continued to scan her once, twice, then he said, "Never turn ye back on an unbroken stallion." He held out the tether out to her.
She snatched it from his clutches and nodded her thanks, though, rather unwillingly.
She led him back to the others and made Wind hold his rope while she took the rest of the broken bridal off, set it aside for repair along with the stall door and put the blanket and saddle away.
All of this she did without speaking a word to anyone but the horse.
When she was finished, she got the rope from Wind and faced Stefan.
"Ye did good girlie. This boy 'ere is yer job, for now on." Willow was confused. "Break 'im fer me."
He grabbed the rope and led the horse back to his stall.
While he was gone, Daine and Numair said their goodbyes and left the teenagers to their new employer.
Stefan returned and put them to work. Wind was to go give a certain number of horses new shoes. River was to go and refill all the water troughs (easier said than done) and willow was to begin repairing the bridal and stall she broke. They silently set to their errands and when he saw that they got started well and wouldn't slack off, Stefan left.
River finished his work faster than the others, so he figured he'd groom a couple of the horses getting their shoes changed by hit half-wit brother.
Willow sat nearby, repairing the bridal and mumbling obscenities now and again.
Before long, three figures strolled over through one of the doors.
The siblings looked up to see Bowen and two others.
"River, Willow, an' Wind, this 'ere is Brock," he motioned to a VERY large male youth next to him, "and Kaislyn, but us in the stables call 'er Kit." He gestured to a very pretty girl next to him. She had a Ladies looks and a majestic air, but obviously wasn't a sit-at-home-and-embroider kind of gal. She got her hands dirty.
"Hello." the siblings chorused.
"What are ye, triplets or sommat'?" Bowen scoffed.
They looked at each other. "Yes."
Bowen looked as if he had another smart-ass reply in mind, but decided not to say it.
"Well, uh, who's who?" Brock asked, in a deep voice. They realized he was at least nineteen or so and got a good look at him before answering. He was quite tall, even taller than Wind at about six feet, maybe six, three or six, four. He had short, wiry red hair and childlike freckles not quite befitting a normal person his age, but they suited him somehow. He had green-gray eyes and, like the other hostler men, was built. He wore the same clothes as Bowen, except his had much more slobber and manure on it.
"River."
"Wind."
"Willow."
Each said their name and gave a tiny wave.
"Where ye from?" Bowen harmlessly asked.
"We're from-" River hesitated and glanced at his siblings. Did they want to share their past? If they said "Carthak", what thought would that provoke about them to the others? What would they ask next? "Hey, uh, does it matter? We're here now." He meant it to sound casually but it sounded as I they were snobbish, or even hiding something. (Which they were.)
Bowen sensed their sensitivity on the past and decided to let it be.
"Where ye stayin'?"
"The hell if we know. Takes ten minutes to get to the right wing, then the hallways are a maze." Willow laughed, fiddling with the bent bit.
"Servants wing." Brock chuckled. She was cute, the girl. Not to mention her performance with the mustang. It was a riot! He, Bowen, and Kit were watching from the loft and knew she was gonna screw it up. Stefan even had trouble with the mammoth, so her feeble efforts would be hilarious.
Kit saw them differently. To her, they were just more people to bother her, and she hated people. She knew that after the novelty of the palace would wear off and their true colors would be cruel noble-like orders for her to do their jobs. They were just like all of the others. Either that or they would try to buddy up to her, the males, to get into her loincloth, because that had happened before too. She HATED that, more than anything, and she hated a lot.
"Well, this is fascinating, but I have WORK to do yet." She sourly said and a ladder up to the loft.
"She's not pleasant a first, but when you get to know Kit, she's as gentile as a newborn lamb." Brock said with a smile. From above, an apple was thrown and hit Brock in between the eyes. "Such a sweet disposition, she has!" He yelled, direction the comment upwards. They could then hear loud stamping to the other end of the stable from the loft.
"She hates nobles who try to prove themselves by runnin' away and joinin' the workin' world. Ye all quite within a week anyway." Bowen narrow mindedly explained, figuring he'd let them know right off.
"Nobles?" River asked.
"Yea- ye know. Guys like ye." They looked at each other, then at Brock and Bowen and felt hurt and at a complete loss.
"We're not nobles. Not merchants, not farmers, not shopkeepers, not ANY of that! We came her to star over you know, and not be instantly judged, like we were everywhere else! What is your problem? We can't be accepted? Just ACCEPTED? No awkward questions, no harsh assessments, no malicious tricks or mockery?!" Willow got up on her soapbox again, then grabbed the bridal and tools and stormed outside to work, but not without going right in between Bowen and Brock and bumping into them.
River sat there, feeling for his sister. "She's........ emotional. You get used to it after about, oh, ten years." He explained, trying to break the tension with a joke, albeit a bad one. He hoped the others wouldn't hate her and think she was this impossible, callous girl. They laughed, although it was forced and stopped abruptly. They WERE both thinking in her reaction. Brock felt bad they upset her on her very first day. Bowen was unsure of what he felt. Both wanted to apologize, but Wind started talking to them about guy matters and they became far too preoccupied.
Willow erupted outside, and then sat on an overturned rain barrel. She worked on the bridal, handling it a bit roughly, forcing down her anger. She HATED being judged like that and then treated like an outcast. Of course, now she gave them a real reason to hate her.
At that thought she felt her eyes brim with tears, then spill over. She began to do that teenage- girl thing where they over analyze situations over and over until they sob uncontrollably. (A/N: I hate it when I do that. I actually did it the other day and it made the rest of the day suck..... damn hormones...) Hearing the boys laugh and make loud male comments made her believe they were direction those jokes at her- which they weren't! - but made her feel ten times worse.
All of a sudden, she was in a shadow. She looked up to see Stefan and the stallion.
"Done wiv' tha' bridal?" He asked and pulled out a handkerchief. She gratefully accepted it and nodded. "Good. Yer gonna try to saddle 'im again. After Wind shods them feet an' ye, name 'im of course."
"M-Me? Name him? She stuttered.
"Sure. He's yer charge now."
She was a tad wary, but thought about a name for him anyway. She finally came up with one she liked.
"Falcon's Fall." She declared.
"Pardon?"
"Falcon's Fall." She repeated. She figured he'd hate it and name him himself.
He stood there and considered it for a moment, then said, "Strange, but I like it. Can I ask how ye came by it?"
"Huh?"
"Every name comes wiv' a past, a reason. What's Falcon's Fall for?"
"Just a name I liked." An obvious lie.
"Humph." He said and grabbed his hankie, since she was offering it back. He shoved the rope at her and she stood and accepted it. Both the stallion and the girl would prove and interesting challenge to understand.
She led him back into the shade of the stable and tied him up, away from the group of young men.
"WIND!" she angrily called her larger brother, who still held an old shoe in his hand. "RIVER! Help me shoe Fall!"
"Who's Fall?" Wind called.
"This is Falcon's Fall and he needs shoes, so get over here and help me!"
"OK!" she heard them call, but then thought that the murmuring sounded an awful lot like "wrong time of the month"
"Yea- you want it in detail?" she angrily called.
They nervously shook their heads and hurried over to aid their annoyed sister. They knew, when testy, Willow could be........ graphic and...... really descriptive.
River and Willow held Fall down while Wind cautiously shoed him, careful not to sit behind the horse, within kicking range, which Fall attempted several times.
Wind was working on the last shoe when River asked, in a low, hushed voice, "Willow, why is this horse named after Mother?"
"You figured it out?" she asked, stroking his nose, trying to calm him.
"Well, it took a while, but you know."
"Ever since I found out about her, it's all I can think of. This is my decision- closure."
"By naming a horse Falcon's Fall?"
"Hey, you get closure your way and I will get it mine, thanks." She said dropping the subject with those last words. When she finished talking, Fall tried to kick Wind again and when he was restrained, reared. At the sudden movements of Fall, Willow pulled down on his rope, until all four newly shod hooves were on the ground. She stared into his eyes, which were full of fiery wildness, and held them. Seconds seemed to crawl by, and finally, Fall looked down. He knew when he was beaten, but that wouldn't stop him from misbehaving again, later on.
Brock and Bowen sat, quietly examining the new stable hands and talking in low voices.
"So, what do you thin Bowen?"
"I think... I think that they jus' wan' to be treated like people. They just wan' to start over, an' not be quickly dismissed, especially the girl."
"Willow?"
"Yea."
"Sure is pretty."
"She'll pass."
"PASS? Look at her- her hair, and eyes- so clear and bright, and her lips, nose, shoulders-"
"Go no lower. I have eyes, ye know. Besides, sounds like someone 'as a crush."
"Sure do." Brock stared at her, while she tried to get on the better side of, what was his name?, Fall's temperaments. She was beautiful...
"But seriously now, how do ye think they'll 'andle the palace, an' stable, life?"
Brock thought about his best friends question. "They'll adapt, I can feel it. Mayhap we'll get a bit of their past outta them... mayhap we'll put together the crows wing hair puzzle."
"So now they're a puzzle?"
"I'm sure confused by them, aren't you?" Brock said, and then went over to them to try and make friends.
'Yes my friend, I sure am.' He thought and resumed his work, up in the loft, trying not to think of the new arrivals.
Well, uh, that's it for now. I am sorry it takes so long, but I have drill crap, and I wish I could do it faster, but I can't so you must bear with me. Please, read and review. THANX!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, I wish to thank my 1 and only reviewer of the last chap, who was anonymous. Thank you mystery person. Now, on with the show!!!
Disclaimer: I always forget to add this, but basically, if you recognize it, it ain't mine. TP owns it. Thanx..
Chapter Four: Tasks
"Hello?" Daine pounded on the heavy door. "Guys?"
Wind opened it, though not without a bit of strain. "We're ready, but Willow is making us wait a minute."
Willow heard the nobles at the door and then heard Wind open it, probably pulling something at the same time. She hastily put threw on breeches and a shirt, and then stumbled out of the bathroom, yanking on her boots. "You know, I don't even know why I even put on that stupid nightdress." She was hopping on one foot, struggling with her right boot. She got it on, stood up straight and looked around to find everyone staring at her.
Numair and Daine were hiding giggles behind their hands. River and Wind were laughing outright. Even Ema was fighting smiles. Willow was astonished. Did she grow another nose or something? She looked down, turned very pale, and made a break for the bathroom.
She looked in the mirror and saw the mess she was in.
To start, her shirt was inside out. Then her breeches were backwards. She blew her nose earlier and trail was left going across her cheek. The powder she used to clean her teeth was sprinkled on her chin and dusted her other cheek up to her ear. Her curls, in their disarray, stuck out in all directions and one was even stuck to the slimy trail on her face.
'No wonder they were laughing!' she thought to herself. 'I look like I got dressed in the dark!'
She cleaned her face, brushed her hair, and righted her clothes.
Then she nervously stepped into the room.
River spotted her first and smiled. Wind was still rolling on the floor. Ema pretended not to notice and was cleaning the breakfast and tea leftovers, nudging Wind in the ribs with her foot.
Willow downright refused to look at the nobles.
"Now that everyone is, um, ready," Daine said and Willow could hear the grinning in her voice, "lets go meet Stefan."
They followed the nobles out the door, first a still- chuckling Wind, a horrified Willow, and after grabbing his last dagger and putting it back into place, an amused River. They left Ema in the room to finish her job in peace.
"So far, we've been shown two libraries, six ballrooms, three dining rooms, the kitchen, nineteen corridors the go to the kitchen, the pages, squires, and knights hallways, and forty five classrooms and studies." Wind counted them off on his fingers.
They walked together a few paces behind Daine and Numair. They had just taken them on a LENGTHY tour of the castle.
"We left the room about, oh, two hours ago. We'll HAVE to find a shorter route to the stables." Willow joked, yawning. They all had puffy eyes- a result of sleep deprivation, but were fairly alert and attentive.
"Hey Wind, tell me something." River spoke to his younger brother. "How come you can remember all THAT, but when I tell you something important, like oh- feed the mules, remember, at Sparrows Peak- it 'skips your mind'?" River smiled, looking at the boy expectantly.
He heaved an exaggerated sigh," Just lucky I guess." Then smiled comically.
"Willow you will always be my favorite sibling."
"What can I say? I'm perfect." She gloated, being silly. Her brothers simultaneously rolled their eyes.
The Smells of horses and hay got stronger as they walked in that direction. Soon other odors became more apparent- horse soap, saddle polish, and the tang of sweat and metal.
Quickly enough, they reached their new jobsite- they largest, grandest stables they had ever seen. Rows upon rows of horses, two walls full of tack and literal barrels of new horseshoes. They saw three tables full with combs and brushes, rags and cleaners, and virtually every kind of horse medicines made.
When Daine walked in, all of the animals walked to the front of their stalls and voiced their hello.
Daine greeted them as a group, and then asked them to behave and told them she visit later. Most seemed contented with that, but a few refused that offer, so she was forced to greet them individually by giving them bits of carrot and sugar lumps from her pockets.
She was just petting the last one, a strawberry mare, when a man in his forties appeared with a bit of a belly, hair as straight as straw, and the same color, in a sleeveless shirt that had a strake of horse slobber on it. His pockets bulged with what looked like a couple of apples and some carrot and sugar treats, and his bare arms were well muscled.
He had a pleasant enough face and his eyes sparkled with a cats' curiosity.
He said, with a bit of a commoner accent," Daine now wha' are ye doin' in 'ere gettin' 'em all excited for? The chestnut I was jus' workin' wiv' near dragged me down the row tryin' to get to ye." He scolded her, but with a grin.
"Dreadfully sorry Stefan, but I brought you a present." she apologized in a singsong voice.
"Oh goody!" he clapped and jumped up and down like a young child.
Numair and Daine stepped apart to reveal three teenagers; all with looks so similar it was uncanny- ravens black hair, pert noses and amethyst stares. They bowed their heads in greeting, but spoke not a word. Stefan eyed his "gift" suspiciously. "I don't understan'. I can barely stan' me own son. Don't need no more- daughters neither."
"Stefan." Daine gave him a "cut-it-out" no-nonsense look. "These are stable hands. You needed more- here they are."
A look of realization (and relief) washed over the old hostlers face. "Oh."
Daine chuckled softly.
"This," Numair said, "is Willow," she waved a tiny wave, "Wind," he did the same, "and River. They are travelers, or were, but if you take then on they can stay here, build a new life." He played on Stefan's sympathy.
A conflict disputed itself in Stefan's mind for a moment while he stared at the road beaten, half-starved, suntanned kids. They looked like hard workers, the two smaller ones, but the big one looked up to mischief. But aren't all teenage boys at one point or another? His own was a joker and so was the other male stable hand, who was almost twenty. Given the right job, perhaps, he may be the best worker. Well........ He sighed, and nodded.
The look in the girl's eyes tore at his heart and was all the thanks needed, but then the smaller boy nodded, in a silent thank you, and the bigger boy grinned from ear to ear. "How are ye wiv' horses, Willow was it?"
"Yes sir. We've all worked with all kinds of creatures, and our whole lives, and know most things about all beasts. We get on with horses just fine. We can take care of tack; know about shoes and different ailments they may have. We ride too, if need be, both saddle and bareback. We can also repair pretty much anything you can find for us around the stable." She said, looking a bit sick. She was incredibly nervous.
Stefan smiled to let her know that he didn't bite. "Well then," Stefan smiled, a trick up his sleeve, "Ye- Wind. Go get me a blue roan wiv' black stockins. She needs her shoes changed. Do tha' fer me too." Wind looked at his sister, bother, new boss, and then scampered off to find the animal. "Ye- River. There is a geldin' in 'ere wiv' ear mites. He 'as a list and also needs to be readied wiv' a sidesaddle fer a lady. Go ready 'im and treat those little buggies." River promptly trotted away, in search.
Willow awaited her instructions, but none came. After a few minutes, she stopped worrying about it and impatiently watched for her brothers.
After another minute, Wind turned the corner leading the roan. She was a pretty thing and seemed a bit smitten with her new hostler. She easily worked for him as he tied her up and set to work on the metal foot ware.
A he left to get a different hammer, River returned walking a fine, gray gelding. He already had the ear mite treatment in his hand, along with swabs. He gently tethered him and eased the itchiness in the horses' ears.
By the time he'd finished that, wind had been back and had removed one of the mare's shoes. He had replaced it and was in the process of finishing up the second shoe when River returned with a sidesaddle and blanket.
They finished one after the other, and Stefan set to examining their work.
'A neat job on Nightingales shoes, and she seems fascinated wiv' him. Bitta is relieved of his persisten' ear mites, for the time bein' and is ready fer Lady Catherine to ride 'im.' He thought to himself. 'Well, lets see if the girl can do as good.'
"Good. Wind, put Nightingale back in 'er stall. River put Bitta over in tha' exercise ring, by a water trough. I'll be back wiv' somin' fer ye girlie."
He walked off, leaving a very anxious Willow. Daine and Numair seemed amused. They had known, on some level, that Stefan would do something like that, and Daine had a feeling what Stefan had in mind for Willow, poor thing. A stallion, yet to be broken, arrived a few days before. He was as wild as anything and wasn't exactly a people-horse. Stefan was gonna trick her into trying to ride him.
Sure enough, when Stefan returned, he lead a giant brown and white paint, with one blue eye, one brown. He had three brown stockings and one white one, and a dark brown mane and tail. He didn't wear a bridal, but was lead by a rope about his neck, which he fought. Even Stefan was a teensy bit weary around him. That should have been Willows first clue.
Willow turned into a ghost. She saw a brown and white tyrant that promised her death.
"This 'ere is the newes' member of our little family. Bridal 'im, saddle 'im, exercise 'im, and try not to kill yerself." Stefan said, then handed her the rope. She grasped it in her tiny, white knuckled hand and stared into the beast's merciless eyes, which were as different as night and day.
At this time, she was merely nervous because this was her task. But when she tethered him, tried to put on his bridal, then had a HEAVY hoof on her foot, the knowledge of her job was sinking in, getting more and more worse with further she understood. The horse whinnied and fought the bit. He constantly tried to shake the leather and metal contraption off his head. After that, Willow had a terrific time keeping him still long enough to drape the blanket on his back.
When she managed to do that, she turned her back for a second to grab a saddle. In that moment, a fiery anger swelled in the stallions eyes and he reared, throwing off the blanket, half shaking off the uncomfortable bridle and spitting out the bit, and breaking the stable door he was bound to. The instant he knew he was free, he bolted for an exit.
Willow whirled around to see her charge galloping for an open door. She flew after, but it was futile . Out of NOWHERE, a figure leaps down from the loft. They closed the door and grabbed the mustang's tether, all in one swift, fluid motion. They dragged all of their weight down on the rope, forcing the stallion down, and got kicked in the shin for his efforts.
"Ah- Gods!" an accented male voice gasped.
Luckily, the stallions reared stance was halted and all four, unshod hooves returned to the ground. He snorted his last defiant remark and shook his head in frustrated acceptance.
Willow reached the monster and his captor.
"Thank you." She genuinely appreciated what he did for her, and then heaved a great sigh. He cocked an eyebrow. He had hair like Stefan's: exactly like straw, and his even had some sticking out of it. He had green eyes that were mocking her, she just knew it. He wore a sleeveless shirt and breeches as well, but was well muscled all around, unlike Stefan.
"Oh- that is me son, Bowen." She heard Stefan call.
"So that explains it....." she breathed, very low.
"Wha' did you say girl?" he asked examining, absorbing her shape in the way guys do. (A/N: hey guys why do you do that? Really, tell me, it's a bit annoying on the girls' part)
Her eyebrows knitted together in irritation. She didn't like his tone- arrogance it sounded like. "I have a name you know. I refuse to answer to 'girl.'" She tartly replied.
"Sorry- Willow, River, Wind, this is Bowen. He is another hostler 'ere as well. You'll be workin' wiv' 'im, so get used to 'is pert remarks." Stefan called. Bowen smiled sarcastically at his father, and then his emerald stare continued to scan her once, twice, then he said, "Never turn ye back on an unbroken stallion." He held out the tether out to her.
She snatched it from his clutches and nodded her thanks, though, rather unwillingly.
She led him back to the others and made Wind hold his rope while she took the rest of the broken bridal off, set it aside for repair along with the stall door and put the blanket and saddle away.
All of this she did without speaking a word to anyone but the horse.
When she was finished, she got the rope from Wind and faced Stefan.
"Ye did good girlie. This boy 'ere is yer job, for now on." Willow was confused. "Break 'im fer me."
He grabbed the rope and led the horse back to his stall.
While he was gone, Daine and Numair said their goodbyes and left the teenagers to their new employer.
Stefan returned and put them to work. Wind was to go give a certain number of horses new shoes. River was to go and refill all the water troughs (easier said than done) and willow was to begin repairing the bridal and stall she broke. They silently set to their errands and when he saw that they got started well and wouldn't slack off, Stefan left.
River finished his work faster than the others, so he figured he'd groom a couple of the horses getting their shoes changed by hit half-wit brother.
Willow sat nearby, repairing the bridal and mumbling obscenities now and again.
Before long, three figures strolled over through one of the doors.
The siblings looked up to see Bowen and two others.
"River, Willow, an' Wind, this 'ere is Brock," he motioned to a VERY large male youth next to him, "and Kaislyn, but us in the stables call 'er Kit." He gestured to a very pretty girl next to him. She had a Ladies looks and a majestic air, but obviously wasn't a sit-at-home-and-embroider kind of gal. She got her hands dirty.
"Hello." the siblings chorused.
"What are ye, triplets or sommat'?" Bowen scoffed.
They looked at each other. "Yes."
Bowen looked as if he had another smart-ass reply in mind, but decided not to say it.
"Well, uh, who's who?" Brock asked, in a deep voice. They realized he was at least nineteen or so and got a good look at him before answering. He was quite tall, even taller than Wind at about six feet, maybe six, three or six, four. He had short, wiry red hair and childlike freckles not quite befitting a normal person his age, but they suited him somehow. He had green-gray eyes and, like the other hostler men, was built. He wore the same clothes as Bowen, except his had much more slobber and manure on it.
"River."
"Wind."
"Willow."
Each said their name and gave a tiny wave.
"Where ye from?" Bowen harmlessly asked.
"We're from-" River hesitated and glanced at his siblings. Did they want to share their past? If they said "Carthak", what thought would that provoke about them to the others? What would they ask next? "Hey, uh, does it matter? We're here now." He meant it to sound casually but it sounded as I they were snobbish, or even hiding something. (Which they were.)
Bowen sensed their sensitivity on the past and decided to let it be.
"Where ye stayin'?"
"The hell if we know. Takes ten minutes to get to the right wing, then the hallways are a maze." Willow laughed, fiddling with the bent bit.
"Servants wing." Brock chuckled. She was cute, the girl. Not to mention her performance with the mustang. It was a riot! He, Bowen, and Kit were watching from the loft and knew she was gonna screw it up. Stefan even had trouble with the mammoth, so her feeble efforts would be hilarious.
Kit saw them differently. To her, they were just more people to bother her, and she hated people. She knew that after the novelty of the palace would wear off and their true colors would be cruel noble-like orders for her to do their jobs. They were just like all of the others. Either that or they would try to buddy up to her, the males, to get into her loincloth, because that had happened before too. She HATED that, more than anything, and she hated a lot.
"Well, this is fascinating, but I have WORK to do yet." She sourly said and a ladder up to the loft.
"She's not pleasant a first, but when you get to know Kit, she's as gentile as a newborn lamb." Brock said with a smile. From above, an apple was thrown and hit Brock in between the eyes. "Such a sweet disposition, she has!" He yelled, direction the comment upwards. They could then hear loud stamping to the other end of the stable from the loft.
"She hates nobles who try to prove themselves by runnin' away and joinin' the workin' world. Ye all quite within a week anyway." Bowen narrow mindedly explained, figuring he'd let them know right off.
"Nobles?" River asked.
"Yea- ye know. Guys like ye." They looked at each other, then at Brock and Bowen and felt hurt and at a complete loss.
"We're not nobles. Not merchants, not farmers, not shopkeepers, not ANY of that! We came her to star over you know, and not be instantly judged, like we were everywhere else! What is your problem? We can't be accepted? Just ACCEPTED? No awkward questions, no harsh assessments, no malicious tricks or mockery?!" Willow got up on her soapbox again, then grabbed the bridal and tools and stormed outside to work, but not without going right in between Bowen and Brock and bumping into them.
River sat there, feeling for his sister. "She's........ emotional. You get used to it after about, oh, ten years." He explained, trying to break the tension with a joke, albeit a bad one. He hoped the others wouldn't hate her and think she was this impossible, callous girl. They laughed, although it was forced and stopped abruptly. They WERE both thinking in her reaction. Brock felt bad they upset her on her very first day. Bowen was unsure of what he felt. Both wanted to apologize, but Wind started talking to them about guy matters and they became far too preoccupied.
Willow erupted outside, and then sat on an overturned rain barrel. She worked on the bridal, handling it a bit roughly, forcing down her anger. She HATED being judged like that and then treated like an outcast. Of course, now she gave them a real reason to hate her.
At that thought she felt her eyes brim with tears, then spill over. She began to do that teenage- girl thing where they over analyze situations over and over until they sob uncontrollably. (A/N: I hate it when I do that. I actually did it the other day and it made the rest of the day suck..... damn hormones...) Hearing the boys laugh and make loud male comments made her believe they were direction those jokes at her- which they weren't! - but made her feel ten times worse.
All of a sudden, she was in a shadow. She looked up to see Stefan and the stallion.
"Done wiv' tha' bridal?" He asked and pulled out a handkerchief. She gratefully accepted it and nodded. "Good. Yer gonna try to saddle 'im again. After Wind shods them feet an' ye, name 'im of course."
"M-Me? Name him? She stuttered.
"Sure. He's yer charge now."
She was a tad wary, but thought about a name for him anyway. She finally came up with one she liked.
"Falcon's Fall." She declared.
"Pardon?"
"Falcon's Fall." She repeated. She figured he'd hate it and name him himself.
He stood there and considered it for a moment, then said, "Strange, but I like it. Can I ask how ye came by it?"
"Huh?"
"Every name comes wiv' a past, a reason. What's Falcon's Fall for?"
"Just a name I liked." An obvious lie.
"Humph." He said and grabbed his hankie, since she was offering it back. He shoved the rope at her and she stood and accepted it. Both the stallion and the girl would prove and interesting challenge to understand.
She led him back into the shade of the stable and tied him up, away from the group of young men.
"WIND!" she angrily called her larger brother, who still held an old shoe in his hand. "RIVER! Help me shoe Fall!"
"Who's Fall?" Wind called.
"This is Falcon's Fall and he needs shoes, so get over here and help me!"
"OK!" she heard them call, but then thought that the murmuring sounded an awful lot like "wrong time of the month"
"Yea- you want it in detail?" she angrily called.
They nervously shook their heads and hurried over to aid their annoyed sister. They knew, when testy, Willow could be........ graphic and...... really descriptive.
River and Willow held Fall down while Wind cautiously shoed him, careful not to sit behind the horse, within kicking range, which Fall attempted several times.
Wind was working on the last shoe when River asked, in a low, hushed voice, "Willow, why is this horse named after Mother?"
"You figured it out?" she asked, stroking his nose, trying to calm him.
"Well, it took a while, but you know."
"Ever since I found out about her, it's all I can think of. This is my decision- closure."
"By naming a horse Falcon's Fall?"
"Hey, you get closure your way and I will get it mine, thanks." She said dropping the subject with those last words. When she finished talking, Fall tried to kick Wind again and when he was restrained, reared. At the sudden movements of Fall, Willow pulled down on his rope, until all four newly shod hooves were on the ground. She stared into his eyes, which were full of fiery wildness, and held them. Seconds seemed to crawl by, and finally, Fall looked down. He knew when he was beaten, but that wouldn't stop him from misbehaving again, later on.
Brock and Bowen sat, quietly examining the new stable hands and talking in low voices.
"So, what do you thin Bowen?"
"I think... I think that they jus' wan' to be treated like people. They just wan' to start over, an' not be quickly dismissed, especially the girl."
"Willow?"
"Yea."
"Sure is pretty."
"She'll pass."
"PASS? Look at her- her hair, and eyes- so clear and bright, and her lips, nose, shoulders-"
"Go no lower. I have eyes, ye know. Besides, sounds like someone 'as a crush."
"Sure do." Brock stared at her, while she tried to get on the better side of, what was his name?, Fall's temperaments. She was beautiful...
"But seriously now, how do ye think they'll 'andle the palace, an' stable, life?"
Brock thought about his best friends question. "They'll adapt, I can feel it. Mayhap we'll get a bit of their past outta them... mayhap we'll put together the crows wing hair puzzle."
"So now they're a puzzle?"
"I'm sure confused by them, aren't you?" Brock said, and then went over to them to try and make friends.
'Yes my friend, I sure am.' He thought and resumed his work, up in the loft, trying not to think of the new arrivals.
Well, uh, that's it for now. I am sorry it takes so long, but I have drill crap, and I wish I could do it faster, but I can't so you must bear with me. Please, read and review. THANX!!!!!!!!!!!!