Salut, Mon Amis! Hey have any of you noticed that the classes that should
be most difficult are the ones that are easiest to pass. Honors French 2 is
the easiest class ever. Biology is also the best class. But this may all be
combined to the fact that my bestist buddies are in those classes. Well,
uh, thanx for reading and I hope that you enjoy.
Disclaimer: there is nothing in this story that I own, it's all Tamora Pierces', except for my characters, and for my situations, but you guys know all that.
Um, on with the story- oh, you may recognize the first few lines. I hate cliffhangers and just realized that I wrote one, so I am trying to refresh your memories. Thanx!
Chapter Six: Back to the Healers
A young lady stood on the bluff, looking at the lake. Her hair blew across her face, and her eyes were filled with determination. Her stance was very familiar. She was going to jump......
"Willow!" Wind cried out, seeing his sister about to do something daft, something he was gonna do.
She looked up, startled, and lost her balance.
(A/N: Here's where the new stuff starts)
Willow uneasily wobbled on the edge of the slippery rock, for it had rained earlier, and then glided off.
She plummeted towards the water at an alarming speed. At the last possible moment, she got into a position where she would merely hit the water and get the wind knocked out of her, a half-shallow dive, if you will, instead of breaking all the bones in her spine by hitting the rock-hard liquid broadside.
You could hear a united groan of sympathy from her ever-captivated audience (all but Kit that is. She just smiled evilly.)
Willow surfaced and slowly worked her way to the group of rowdy youths, although right then, they weren't very rowdy at all.
She inhaled and exhaled heavily, fighting to regain a regular breathing pattern.
"W....W.....WIND!" she rasped.
"What were you doing dolt?" he retorted.
"I WAS enjoying the view, preparing to dive, enjoying my day off, no thanks to you!" she moaned, rubbing her left side, which was one whole ache.
By then Brock and Bowen had gotten over the initial shock of her fall, and now fully realized that she wore no over clothes.
When she felt their eyes on her, she remembered it was because she wasn't fully dressed.
"Well, I am gonna go lay out in the sun for a while and, uh, dry off. I don't feel much like swimming anymore."
She slowly bogged her way through the water, towards the shore, aching with the slightest movement.
That's when Brock noticed the darker spot near her spine on the left side.
"Hey Willow- c'mere." She resentfully obeyed. "Turn around." Again, she followed his order.
Indeed, his suspicions were confirmed. It was a bruise- purple and blue and squarish in shape, about four inches by six inches wide and across. "Where did you get that?"
"What- oh that?" she turned around to face them, adjusting a slipping breast band and blushing. "I hit the fence there- twice, I think."
"What?"
"Fall threw me into the fence and that is where I hit it- numerous times." She explained as if talking to a child. He nodded his head.
Now that she was closer, and he could maneuver her about as he wish, he had her turn around in a circle, very slowly.
They all noticed scratches, bite marks, bruises, cuts healing, and a deep gash on her right side, on her waist, that held three or four stitches.
"Willow!" River, Brock, and Bowen exclaimed in unison.
"I know, I know- I'm not supposed to get 'em wet- yea, yea." She grumbled.
"No not that." River cast that aside, and paused to collect his swirling thoughts. "Wh...Where did you ever GET them? WHY?" River worriedly asked, after stuttering for about five minutes.
"I got them a few days ago. Duke Baird did it."
"That still leaves why."
"Fall tossed me onto a pitchfork. Look, I don't see what the big deal is- Stefan knows, and I'm a big girl- I can take care of myself."
River, apparently, was still hung up on the "why" part. "P.Pitchfork!! Why didn't you tell one of us?" he outburst.
"Calm down, and yes- a pitchfork. And I didn't tell you because I knew your reaction would be exactly like this!" Willow got louder as she spoke, until the last words were a shout.
Brock laid a careful hand on her shoulder. "Ok, down girl." He chuckled.
River put on his "older brother" look, and plainly stated. "You can't work with the horse anymore."
That took everyone aback. He was defying his sister- a feat rarely done, or even attempted. They all stepped back and turned to see what the girl who seemed as unpredictable as her charge at times would do.
"What?"
"You heard me- I'm not letting you work with him anymore." Brock and Bowen were amazed- this took a lot of guts. Wind was shocked at his moronic brothers' boldness- even Wind would never have even had THOUGHT of doing that.
"You don't own me River, and you can't tell be what to do."
The mesmerized audience followed the conversation from speaker to speaker, impatiently waiting to see what the other would say next.
"Willow- he's going to kill you! Look at what he's done already! He won't ever be broken."
"I refuse to believe you."
"He's too wild! I'm not going to let you kill yourself!"
"No." She glared at her brother, hating him now more than she had ever hated anyone. She couldn't even stand to look at him anymore, for fear that the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, stinging them, blurring her vision, and threatening to show her true emotions would tumble down her face and betray her slave life of never acting like a person. She looked down instead. "He's gotten better. I CAN do this."
"No you can't- no one can!"
"YES I can- I'm not weak and he CAN be broken. And it would be a lot easier if someone would believe in me!" She ended up screaming at the water, as she still refused to look at him. As fast as lightning, she pulled out of Brocks hold and spun around, kicking her brother on the left side of his face in a standard drill she'd been doing since she was three. In a movement like quicksilver, she reversed it to hit the other side, then did a straight kick in his rock-like stomach. He actually faltered and stepped back into Bowen's grip. Wind reached out instinctively to his upset sister, but that was a mistake. She fluidly grabbed his out-stretched hand and flipped him onto his back, hitting the water with an audible "SMACK!"
She looked up into four fearful faces and then stomped to shore. Willow picked up her clothes and grabbed her boots. "Thanks for a lovely time." She spat at the dumbfounded young men in the water. She turned and nodded at Kit, then started jogging back to the stables and back to her charge, embracing her day with a new attitude. A bruise on the sole of her foot inhibited the way she walked, but she still held her head high as tears fell in silent floods on her already saturated skin.
No one said anything until she was just a small blur in the distance, limping up the hill to the grazing pasture.
"There really is a lot to her isn't there?" Bowen thought out loud.
"Let's just say that we got off easy." Wind replied.
"Meaning that we are in one piece." River gasped, struggling to get to his feet on the muddy bottom of the pond. Bowen helped him get there, and they all looked at each other, in stunned silence.
River resolved to sleep in the bathroom that night, and maybe all the nights in the week following.
A man, dressed in all black, paced, wringing his hands. He had a hood and mask hanging off his tunic, but his head remained uncovered. His tousled cinnamon hair was damp, and beads of perspiration glistened and ran down his temples.
There was a scraping of metal and wood and a few muffled swears. A trap door opened from the floor, and the man jumped.
"What did they say- for that, what did HE say?" the pacing sergeant nervously asked to the blackness underground.
A woman appeared from that same darkness, her mask and hood hanging in the same fashion as his. She wore similar clothing-all black-but she had a red cord over each shoulder signifying superiority. Her face was far from pretty. She had red and pink scars, still new and glistening with the heat, in various spots along her face, neck, and chest. Those cold gray eyes of hers set deep in her skull were that of a raptor's, showing no fear, nor any mercy. A strawberry blond mane was cut like men's hair. She was small and quick, unlike this male counterpart- large and tiresome.
"Our plan ruined by those guards?" he asked, impatient because she never answered his earlier inquiry.
"No dolt. They aren't angry. Everyone expected this. Now we just continue on, more carefully of course, until we get further instructions. Now go- rally your men, and do it quietly this time. I don't want a repetition of the inn, Narmer." She flapped a hand and Narmer scurried out into the night, pulling his hood and mask on, blending into the darkness.
The woman sat at a table and propped her head in her hands. Narmer was a bother, but a better sergeant you'd never find. He was made for the army, through and through. She sighed. 'I'll just put up with him as long as I have to- not a second more.' She gruesomely thought. 'The plan is working beautifully, as long as the circle- and HIM- don't change their minds again. And if I stay in their good graces.' She shuttered. The circle often accused those who questioned their authority with treason, and the punishment for treason was grim. She preferred to keep her insides IN the inside, thank you, and her bones would like to stay in their present place- not be hanging from someone's neck or earlobes or used to make a chair. 'Whatever they say- goes, no ifs, ands, or buts.' She resolved. 'I just hope their conditions change soon and we begin on the second part of the plan. I want to get on with this business, and get back home. Carry out this prophesy, and return home.' She sighed once more. 'Just sit tight now, and it will all work itself out in time.'
She rose, dangerous grin on her face, eyes gleaming with bloodthirsty savageness and walked out into the rising night, pulling her mask and hood over her scarred, pitiless face to keep off the drizzle.
'Yes,' she thought to herself, 'all in time.....'
A few days after Willow's encounter with "the cliff", as the stable hands had named it, Willow stepped outside through the wide stable doors, squinting at the sunlight. She dusted her hands off on her even dustier shirt and heaved an exasperated sigh.
Walking over to her brothers, who were standing on the opposite side of the fence, outside the exercise ring, she grinned.
The picture they made- Wind and River both clenching Fall's rope white- knuckled, and Fall was merely standing there, looking as docile as a sleeping babe, chewing on some hay- was enough to make her wet herself. (She didn't although it was all she could do to control herself.)
She tied his tether around her wrist, up to her elbow. Then, almost one- handedly, she grabbed the bridal slung over her shoulders.
She was gathering a crowd. Not only were her brother's there to watch her, Stefan and the other hostlers wanted to witness this session. The Wildmage, there on one of her frequent visits to the stable, sat on the fence railing, eating an apple, curious on what the younger girl could do with the monster.
Right off, everyone noticed how easygoing her was with her. He no longer fidgeted when she coaxed the bridal onto his head and she constantly stroked his nose and cooed to him, thanking him for being such a "good, nice boy." (The whole time, however, she prayed to Mithros, The Great Goddess, the Graveyard Hag, Minos- ANYONE who would listen, that he would behave himself.)
He was doing well and gently stood there as she draped the blanket on his back and placed the saddle on it. They watched in wonderment, her movement like a well-oiled machine as she tightened straps, shortened stirrups, and routinely nudged his stomach with her foot so he would let out his bellyful of air. She gave her last minute checks of all the equipment and then mounted. Her audience held their breath as she started walking him in the broad circle. They all heaved a large sigh when she did this with ease.
About the third time around, River notice Willow getting anxious. Fall was getting a mischievous quality in his distinctive eyes.
Willow and Fall both knew she would have to nudge him into a trot soon, and that is where trouble usually arose. They rode around once more, then Willow readjusted her position in the saddle, preparing for the worst.
She kicked his sides with her heels as lightly as she could manage (A/N: don't worry folks- no spurs in my story! I don't care if it ain't correct- I hate them!!!) That's when Fall lost it.
He violently shook his head and paced about. When Willow just tugged on the reigns in response, trying to control him, he started bucking wildly. Everyone, Wildmage included, watched in horror, gripping the railing as hard as they could, unable to do anything but pray for their friend. They feared that if they tried to interfere, Fall would jump the fence, throwing her off into a fencepost, killing her. Her only hope was herself.
She frantically listed her options as she unwrapped his rope tether from her arm and retied it to the saddle horn. Number one: stay on until she was bucked off and landed on the ground where she'd most likely get trampled, or worse, land on the fence and break her spine, which is pretty important. Number two: swing down and risk getting kicked to stop his madness. Number three: jump off and run like hell. All of this thinking took about two excruciatingly long seconds of intense strength on Willows part. (She'd have to be strong to keep up with Fall's antics.)
None of these sounded all too appealing to her, but if she must choose, number two would have to be it.
As quickly and carefully as she could, Willow got to the ground, which was wonderfully solid and still beneath her feet.
She grabbed his bridal in her hands and was trying to bring him down on all fours to face her- you know, to stare him down until her would obey her again.
But this horsie wouldn't stand for it. The moment he knew the weight on his back had gone, he started waiting for her to get in the right position, and the right time to execute.....there it was. He spun as fast as he could, making her stance unbalanced and disorienting her for a brief moment, just long enough to recoil his powerful hind legs and kick, hitting her squarely in the chest.
Willow flew into the outer wall of the stable and became unconscious. Absolutely EVERYONE, even Kit, and except the Wildmage, risked it and flew to her aid.
River sensibly looked for Fall, expecting to see him preparing to charge the whole group.
Fall stood there- just stood- unnaturally looking up at the tree by the fence that offered shade to that portion of the ring. River puzzledly searched for the Wildmage, finding her balancing herself on the fence, but otherwise, she looked asleep.
"Stefan, what-?" he started.
"Meditation. It's wha' keepin' 'im so calm. She's in 'is 'ead, controlling 'im, or sommat like tha'. Never min' tha' now. Les' get yer sis' to a healer- Duke Baird'll fix 'er righ' up."
No one else seemed upset about Daine, except Wind who also never had seen such a thing done, so River let it be.
Since the healers were at the other end of the palace, and carrying Willow's dead weight wasn't the same as a saddle, the male stable hands traded her off, until Stefan got so tired of waiting for them to switch, he grabbed her small form and carried her the rest of the way.
Willow woke up in a place that was both unfamiliar and smelled rather unpleasant, which is farfetched for a girl who works with HORSES all day. She was lying on a cot and felt as if she'd been kicked by a horse....... oh, but wait- she HAD been kicked by one. There was a curtain to her right, and she could hear muffled voices on the other side of the creamy linen.
"She has four broken ribs and a concussion. I'm amazed he didn't do more." That sounded like the good Duke-healer.
"She did very well with him." Stefan.
"I think she should give up on him and stay in bed for a while." River, of course.
"She has to decide that." Surprisingly, that was Wind. (See- he rarely spoke on these issues, plus it was in her favor)
"'She' is fine and 'She' can hear you." Willow bitterly interrupted their private meeting of how 'She' was gonna live her life.
The curtain parted, and Duke Baird appeared, with everyone else silently following, a bit like a giant shadow.
"How's my favorite hostler on this fine afternoon?"
"In terrible pain, but otherwise peachy," she sarcastically grumbled.
"Oh yea. She's fine." Wind smiled. If she was already making wisecrack remarks, she was gonna be all right.
"Now, you experienced a concussion when you knocked your skull on the wall, and fractured your 7th and 8th ribs, on the lower left side, but are lucky because they didn't pierce anything important, like your heart. You have no internal bleeding either, fortunately, and-"
"Excuse me- sir?"
Duke Baird looked at his patient who interrupted him. He realized that she didn't have a clue of what he was saying.
"Oh dear me- I'm dreadfully sorry. I spend too much time with Numair. I'm developing his speech tendencies.
"No, well, let's see.....you have a bruise on your brain and a bump in the head, but, besides a headache, you'll be fine. You broke two ribs, but otherwise, you're 'peachy,'" he explained for her, dumbing it down a bit, and then mocking her at the end.
"Peachy?" she asked.
"Peachy."
"Oh, so it just FEELS a hundred times worse."
Everyone smirked at her bad mood.
"So doc, fix 'er up righ'. She's go' work to do tomorrow. That' 'orse waits fer no man... or woman."
Willow and Stefan exchanged a smile, and Stefan led the group of horrified hostlers out, back to their chores.
Willow liked thinking that Stefan had enough faith in her, and knew her well enough, to know that she would be back at work tomorrow. She was glad he EXPECTED her to do it, and wasn't going to try to make her go back to bed and get rest like Brock or River would do.
He treated her like an equal, or even a better, as if he respected her, and no one ever did that, but not many do what she had planned- no, had EXPECTED of her. That made her day, and made her feel like she finally found a home.
With that, she looked up at the Healer-Duke and said, promptly forgetting her grammar lessons with Mother, "You heard the man, Your Grace. I got work to do tomorrow so I need to be fixed up good."
The duke sighed, shook his head, and rolled his eyes as he had seen Nealan do so often.
"You hostlers- everything's about that stable." He joked.
"Is there anything else?"
Since the duke couldn't tell if she was kidding or not, he just applied the best healing her could muster. She'd need the strength.
Ok- that's all for now. I had planned to make it a bit longer, but a can use that next chappie. I really wanted to post today. I have some River/Ema romance next chap, and we hear a bit more about Ema. We also discover a secret about Kit and Bowen has some trouble with Stefan. OH- and we see the Monarchs. I just gave away too much, so I will stop that talk now.
BTW~ for all interested- I have need for a beta reader. Email me if interested. I am not the best typist if you haven't noticed, and I need a filter for typos. A beta would be a good idea then, so let me know if you would like the position, or if you just want more info. Plus, you get sneak peaks at upcoming chaps! Thanx all....
(Hey wanna know something neato? I was actually awake one day in history, and I found out that the greatest city in ancient Persia was called Persepolis. Persepolis- Persopolis, get it? AHH! And the first ruler of ancient Egypt to rule a united upper and lower kingdom was Narmer. I used it! Get it? Haha!
AND- some of the first ancient Greeks had a chief deity by the name of the Great Mother, or Earth Goddess. WOW WEE!!! Ok, I'm done now....)
Disclaimer: there is nothing in this story that I own, it's all Tamora Pierces', except for my characters, and for my situations, but you guys know all that.
Um, on with the story- oh, you may recognize the first few lines. I hate cliffhangers and just realized that I wrote one, so I am trying to refresh your memories. Thanx!
Chapter Six: Back to the Healers
A young lady stood on the bluff, looking at the lake. Her hair blew across her face, and her eyes were filled with determination. Her stance was very familiar. She was going to jump......
"Willow!" Wind cried out, seeing his sister about to do something daft, something he was gonna do.
She looked up, startled, and lost her balance.
(A/N: Here's where the new stuff starts)
Willow uneasily wobbled on the edge of the slippery rock, for it had rained earlier, and then glided off.
She plummeted towards the water at an alarming speed. At the last possible moment, she got into a position where she would merely hit the water and get the wind knocked out of her, a half-shallow dive, if you will, instead of breaking all the bones in her spine by hitting the rock-hard liquid broadside.
You could hear a united groan of sympathy from her ever-captivated audience (all but Kit that is. She just smiled evilly.)
Willow surfaced and slowly worked her way to the group of rowdy youths, although right then, they weren't very rowdy at all.
She inhaled and exhaled heavily, fighting to regain a regular breathing pattern.
"W....W.....WIND!" she rasped.
"What were you doing dolt?" he retorted.
"I WAS enjoying the view, preparing to dive, enjoying my day off, no thanks to you!" she moaned, rubbing her left side, which was one whole ache.
By then Brock and Bowen had gotten over the initial shock of her fall, and now fully realized that she wore no over clothes.
When she felt their eyes on her, she remembered it was because she wasn't fully dressed.
"Well, I am gonna go lay out in the sun for a while and, uh, dry off. I don't feel much like swimming anymore."
She slowly bogged her way through the water, towards the shore, aching with the slightest movement.
That's when Brock noticed the darker spot near her spine on the left side.
"Hey Willow- c'mere." She resentfully obeyed. "Turn around." Again, she followed his order.
Indeed, his suspicions were confirmed. It was a bruise- purple and blue and squarish in shape, about four inches by six inches wide and across. "Where did you get that?"
"What- oh that?" she turned around to face them, adjusting a slipping breast band and blushing. "I hit the fence there- twice, I think."
"What?"
"Fall threw me into the fence and that is where I hit it- numerous times." She explained as if talking to a child. He nodded his head.
Now that she was closer, and he could maneuver her about as he wish, he had her turn around in a circle, very slowly.
They all noticed scratches, bite marks, bruises, cuts healing, and a deep gash on her right side, on her waist, that held three or four stitches.
"Willow!" River, Brock, and Bowen exclaimed in unison.
"I know, I know- I'm not supposed to get 'em wet- yea, yea." She grumbled.
"No not that." River cast that aside, and paused to collect his swirling thoughts. "Wh...Where did you ever GET them? WHY?" River worriedly asked, after stuttering for about five minutes.
"I got them a few days ago. Duke Baird did it."
"That still leaves why."
"Fall tossed me onto a pitchfork. Look, I don't see what the big deal is- Stefan knows, and I'm a big girl- I can take care of myself."
River, apparently, was still hung up on the "why" part. "P.Pitchfork!! Why didn't you tell one of us?" he outburst.
"Calm down, and yes- a pitchfork. And I didn't tell you because I knew your reaction would be exactly like this!" Willow got louder as she spoke, until the last words were a shout.
Brock laid a careful hand on her shoulder. "Ok, down girl." He chuckled.
River put on his "older brother" look, and plainly stated. "You can't work with the horse anymore."
That took everyone aback. He was defying his sister- a feat rarely done, or even attempted. They all stepped back and turned to see what the girl who seemed as unpredictable as her charge at times would do.
"What?"
"You heard me- I'm not letting you work with him anymore." Brock and Bowen were amazed- this took a lot of guts. Wind was shocked at his moronic brothers' boldness- even Wind would never have even had THOUGHT of doing that.
"You don't own me River, and you can't tell be what to do."
The mesmerized audience followed the conversation from speaker to speaker, impatiently waiting to see what the other would say next.
"Willow- he's going to kill you! Look at what he's done already! He won't ever be broken."
"I refuse to believe you."
"He's too wild! I'm not going to let you kill yourself!"
"No." She glared at her brother, hating him now more than she had ever hated anyone. She couldn't even stand to look at him anymore, for fear that the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, stinging them, blurring her vision, and threatening to show her true emotions would tumble down her face and betray her slave life of never acting like a person. She looked down instead. "He's gotten better. I CAN do this."
"No you can't- no one can!"
"YES I can- I'm not weak and he CAN be broken. And it would be a lot easier if someone would believe in me!" She ended up screaming at the water, as she still refused to look at him. As fast as lightning, she pulled out of Brocks hold and spun around, kicking her brother on the left side of his face in a standard drill she'd been doing since she was three. In a movement like quicksilver, she reversed it to hit the other side, then did a straight kick in his rock-like stomach. He actually faltered and stepped back into Bowen's grip. Wind reached out instinctively to his upset sister, but that was a mistake. She fluidly grabbed his out-stretched hand and flipped him onto his back, hitting the water with an audible "SMACK!"
She looked up into four fearful faces and then stomped to shore. Willow picked up her clothes and grabbed her boots. "Thanks for a lovely time." She spat at the dumbfounded young men in the water. She turned and nodded at Kit, then started jogging back to the stables and back to her charge, embracing her day with a new attitude. A bruise on the sole of her foot inhibited the way she walked, but she still held her head high as tears fell in silent floods on her already saturated skin.
No one said anything until she was just a small blur in the distance, limping up the hill to the grazing pasture.
"There really is a lot to her isn't there?" Bowen thought out loud.
"Let's just say that we got off easy." Wind replied.
"Meaning that we are in one piece." River gasped, struggling to get to his feet on the muddy bottom of the pond. Bowen helped him get there, and they all looked at each other, in stunned silence.
River resolved to sleep in the bathroom that night, and maybe all the nights in the week following.
A man, dressed in all black, paced, wringing his hands. He had a hood and mask hanging off his tunic, but his head remained uncovered. His tousled cinnamon hair was damp, and beads of perspiration glistened and ran down his temples.
There was a scraping of metal and wood and a few muffled swears. A trap door opened from the floor, and the man jumped.
"What did they say- for that, what did HE say?" the pacing sergeant nervously asked to the blackness underground.
A woman appeared from that same darkness, her mask and hood hanging in the same fashion as his. She wore similar clothing-all black-but she had a red cord over each shoulder signifying superiority. Her face was far from pretty. She had red and pink scars, still new and glistening with the heat, in various spots along her face, neck, and chest. Those cold gray eyes of hers set deep in her skull were that of a raptor's, showing no fear, nor any mercy. A strawberry blond mane was cut like men's hair. She was small and quick, unlike this male counterpart- large and tiresome.
"Our plan ruined by those guards?" he asked, impatient because she never answered his earlier inquiry.
"No dolt. They aren't angry. Everyone expected this. Now we just continue on, more carefully of course, until we get further instructions. Now go- rally your men, and do it quietly this time. I don't want a repetition of the inn, Narmer." She flapped a hand and Narmer scurried out into the night, pulling his hood and mask on, blending into the darkness.
The woman sat at a table and propped her head in her hands. Narmer was a bother, but a better sergeant you'd never find. He was made for the army, through and through. She sighed. 'I'll just put up with him as long as I have to- not a second more.' She gruesomely thought. 'The plan is working beautifully, as long as the circle- and HIM- don't change their minds again. And if I stay in their good graces.' She shuttered. The circle often accused those who questioned their authority with treason, and the punishment for treason was grim. She preferred to keep her insides IN the inside, thank you, and her bones would like to stay in their present place- not be hanging from someone's neck or earlobes or used to make a chair. 'Whatever they say- goes, no ifs, ands, or buts.' She resolved. 'I just hope their conditions change soon and we begin on the second part of the plan. I want to get on with this business, and get back home. Carry out this prophesy, and return home.' She sighed once more. 'Just sit tight now, and it will all work itself out in time.'
She rose, dangerous grin on her face, eyes gleaming with bloodthirsty savageness and walked out into the rising night, pulling her mask and hood over her scarred, pitiless face to keep off the drizzle.
'Yes,' she thought to herself, 'all in time.....'
A few days after Willow's encounter with "the cliff", as the stable hands had named it, Willow stepped outside through the wide stable doors, squinting at the sunlight. She dusted her hands off on her even dustier shirt and heaved an exasperated sigh.
Walking over to her brothers, who were standing on the opposite side of the fence, outside the exercise ring, she grinned.
The picture they made- Wind and River both clenching Fall's rope white- knuckled, and Fall was merely standing there, looking as docile as a sleeping babe, chewing on some hay- was enough to make her wet herself. (She didn't although it was all she could do to control herself.)
She tied his tether around her wrist, up to her elbow. Then, almost one- handedly, she grabbed the bridal slung over her shoulders.
She was gathering a crowd. Not only were her brother's there to watch her, Stefan and the other hostlers wanted to witness this session. The Wildmage, there on one of her frequent visits to the stable, sat on the fence railing, eating an apple, curious on what the younger girl could do with the monster.
Right off, everyone noticed how easygoing her was with her. He no longer fidgeted when she coaxed the bridal onto his head and she constantly stroked his nose and cooed to him, thanking him for being such a "good, nice boy." (The whole time, however, she prayed to Mithros, The Great Goddess, the Graveyard Hag, Minos- ANYONE who would listen, that he would behave himself.)
He was doing well and gently stood there as she draped the blanket on his back and placed the saddle on it. They watched in wonderment, her movement like a well-oiled machine as she tightened straps, shortened stirrups, and routinely nudged his stomach with her foot so he would let out his bellyful of air. She gave her last minute checks of all the equipment and then mounted. Her audience held their breath as she started walking him in the broad circle. They all heaved a large sigh when she did this with ease.
About the third time around, River notice Willow getting anxious. Fall was getting a mischievous quality in his distinctive eyes.
Willow and Fall both knew she would have to nudge him into a trot soon, and that is where trouble usually arose. They rode around once more, then Willow readjusted her position in the saddle, preparing for the worst.
She kicked his sides with her heels as lightly as she could manage (A/N: don't worry folks- no spurs in my story! I don't care if it ain't correct- I hate them!!!) That's when Fall lost it.
He violently shook his head and paced about. When Willow just tugged on the reigns in response, trying to control him, he started bucking wildly. Everyone, Wildmage included, watched in horror, gripping the railing as hard as they could, unable to do anything but pray for their friend. They feared that if they tried to interfere, Fall would jump the fence, throwing her off into a fencepost, killing her. Her only hope was herself.
She frantically listed her options as she unwrapped his rope tether from her arm and retied it to the saddle horn. Number one: stay on until she was bucked off and landed on the ground where she'd most likely get trampled, or worse, land on the fence and break her spine, which is pretty important. Number two: swing down and risk getting kicked to stop his madness. Number three: jump off and run like hell. All of this thinking took about two excruciatingly long seconds of intense strength on Willows part. (She'd have to be strong to keep up with Fall's antics.)
None of these sounded all too appealing to her, but if she must choose, number two would have to be it.
As quickly and carefully as she could, Willow got to the ground, which was wonderfully solid and still beneath her feet.
She grabbed his bridal in her hands and was trying to bring him down on all fours to face her- you know, to stare him down until her would obey her again.
But this horsie wouldn't stand for it. The moment he knew the weight on his back had gone, he started waiting for her to get in the right position, and the right time to execute.....there it was. He spun as fast as he could, making her stance unbalanced and disorienting her for a brief moment, just long enough to recoil his powerful hind legs and kick, hitting her squarely in the chest.
Willow flew into the outer wall of the stable and became unconscious. Absolutely EVERYONE, even Kit, and except the Wildmage, risked it and flew to her aid.
River sensibly looked for Fall, expecting to see him preparing to charge the whole group.
Fall stood there- just stood- unnaturally looking up at the tree by the fence that offered shade to that portion of the ring. River puzzledly searched for the Wildmage, finding her balancing herself on the fence, but otherwise, she looked asleep.
"Stefan, what-?" he started.
"Meditation. It's wha' keepin' 'im so calm. She's in 'is 'ead, controlling 'im, or sommat like tha'. Never min' tha' now. Les' get yer sis' to a healer- Duke Baird'll fix 'er righ' up."
No one else seemed upset about Daine, except Wind who also never had seen such a thing done, so River let it be.
Since the healers were at the other end of the palace, and carrying Willow's dead weight wasn't the same as a saddle, the male stable hands traded her off, until Stefan got so tired of waiting for them to switch, he grabbed her small form and carried her the rest of the way.
Willow woke up in a place that was both unfamiliar and smelled rather unpleasant, which is farfetched for a girl who works with HORSES all day. She was lying on a cot and felt as if she'd been kicked by a horse....... oh, but wait- she HAD been kicked by one. There was a curtain to her right, and she could hear muffled voices on the other side of the creamy linen.
"She has four broken ribs and a concussion. I'm amazed he didn't do more." That sounded like the good Duke-healer.
"She did very well with him." Stefan.
"I think she should give up on him and stay in bed for a while." River, of course.
"She has to decide that." Surprisingly, that was Wind. (See- he rarely spoke on these issues, plus it was in her favor)
"'She' is fine and 'She' can hear you." Willow bitterly interrupted their private meeting of how 'She' was gonna live her life.
The curtain parted, and Duke Baird appeared, with everyone else silently following, a bit like a giant shadow.
"How's my favorite hostler on this fine afternoon?"
"In terrible pain, but otherwise peachy," she sarcastically grumbled.
"Oh yea. She's fine." Wind smiled. If she was already making wisecrack remarks, she was gonna be all right.
"Now, you experienced a concussion when you knocked your skull on the wall, and fractured your 7th and 8th ribs, on the lower left side, but are lucky because they didn't pierce anything important, like your heart. You have no internal bleeding either, fortunately, and-"
"Excuse me- sir?"
Duke Baird looked at his patient who interrupted him. He realized that she didn't have a clue of what he was saying.
"Oh dear me- I'm dreadfully sorry. I spend too much time with Numair. I'm developing his speech tendencies.
"No, well, let's see.....you have a bruise on your brain and a bump in the head, but, besides a headache, you'll be fine. You broke two ribs, but otherwise, you're 'peachy,'" he explained for her, dumbing it down a bit, and then mocking her at the end.
"Peachy?" she asked.
"Peachy."
"Oh, so it just FEELS a hundred times worse."
Everyone smirked at her bad mood.
"So doc, fix 'er up righ'. She's go' work to do tomorrow. That' 'orse waits fer no man... or woman."
Willow and Stefan exchanged a smile, and Stefan led the group of horrified hostlers out, back to their chores.
Willow liked thinking that Stefan had enough faith in her, and knew her well enough, to know that she would be back at work tomorrow. She was glad he EXPECTED her to do it, and wasn't going to try to make her go back to bed and get rest like Brock or River would do.
He treated her like an equal, or even a better, as if he respected her, and no one ever did that, but not many do what she had planned- no, had EXPECTED of her. That made her day, and made her feel like she finally found a home.
With that, she looked up at the Healer-Duke and said, promptly forgetting her grammar lessons with Mother, "You heard the man, Your Grace. I got work to do tomorrow so I need to be fixed up good."
The duke sighed, shook his head, and rolled his eyes as he had seen Nealan do so often.
"You hostlers- everything's about that stable." He joked.
"Is there anything else?"
Since the duke couldn't tell if she was kidding or not, he just applied the best healing her could muster. She'd need the strength.
Ok- that's all for now. I had planned to make it a bit longer, but a can use that next chappie. I really wanted to post today. I have some River/Ema romance next chap, and we hear a bit more about Ema. We also discover a secret about Kit and Bowen has some trouble with Stefan. OH- and we see the Monarchs. I just gave away too much, so I will stop that talk now.
BTW~ for all interested- I have need for a beta reader. Email me if interested. I am not the best typist if you haven't noticed, and I need a filter for typos. A beta would be a good idea then, so let me know if you would like the position, or if you just want more info. Plus, you get sneak peaks at upcoming chaps! Thanx all....
(Hey wanna know something neato? I was actually awake one day in history, and I found out that the greatest city in ancient Persia was called Persepolis. Persepolis- Persopolis, get it? AHH! And the first ruler of ancient Egypt to rule a united upper and lower kingdom was Narmer. I used it! Get it? Haha!
AND- some of the first ancient Greeks had a chief deity by the name of the Great Mother, or Earth Goddess. WOW WEE!!! Ok, I'm done now....)