I've not written in absolutely ages, and I've never had the courage to upload a story before but I couldn't resist giving this idea a shot. It was inspired by Damn the Torpedoes's 'On Tour' which I'm reccomending here and now.

I own the characters that Tolkien doesn't own, who are mainly equine. Tolkien owns the ones he owns. You know who they are. I'm gaining nothing from this whatsoever.

Please review at the end, and remember that English is not my first language!

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"Come on, Faz! We're gonna be late!" Boromir chucked a pillow at his sleeping younger brother. As usual his aim was true and it connected sharply with Faramir's head with a noise that sounded vaguely like 'flop'.

"Wha-? Boromir! What are you doing!?" Faramir sat bolt upright, his hair dishevelled and sticking out at odd angles, his eyes dark-rimmed and full of sleep. Faramir noticed his brother loitering by the door grinning, and scowled at him in annoyance. Drousily, the younger brother groped around and found the pillow originally targeted for his head. But his aim was not as good as Boromir's when wide awake, let alone when still in Dream Land. He threw it randomly in his older brother's general direction, but Boromir had already started off down the hallway, laughing.

"And don't call me Faz, Boz!" Faramir yelled after him, for lack of anything else to say. Boromir didn't respond, but Faramir heard him whistling down the stairs. Grumbling under his breath, Faramir stumbled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. He showered quickly and dressed, before clattering downstairs considerably more awake than before, pulling a comb through his thick black hair. When Faramir entered the kitchen and headed immediately for the cereal cupboard, Boromir looked up from buttering his toast.

"Looking forward to your first riding lesson, eh Faz?" he asked, grinning widely.

Faramir blinked. Oh no! He couldn't believe that he'd forgotten- Boromir had asked his friend Legolas to give Faramir riding lessons! Faramir was very good with animals, being very sensitive and understanding with them, and he'd been eager to learn to ride for a good while now. Boromir had been riding for five years- since he was eleven- and now Faramir was the same age.

"Come on, we've got to be at the yard in half an hour!" Boromir clamoured, with his mouth half full of toast. Faramir knew about the yard, and had visited it a few times with Boromir. It was owned by an old man, Théoden, who had a son and also his young nephew and niece living with him. It was a livery yard, with no instructors or grooms around to order everyone about. There was a good amount of people there with their own animals, some people owned about three or four horses to themselves. Also there were about eight animals for people who wanted to 'rent' them for a day or so because they couldn't afford to buy one themselves. It was a good system and the yard was, though rather dilapidated, very friendly.

Half an hour later the brothers were strolling up the road to the yard- it took about twenty minutes to walk there from their house- chucking the occasional dirt clod and insult at one another. Faramir was wearing a pair of Boromir's old mucker boots since he owned none himself. They were a bit too big for him and made a loose clunking noise whenever he put his foot down, which echoed annoyingly up the empty country lane.

They turned into the yard at half-past nine, and it was already in a flurry of activity: Legolas was grooming Armchair, a less-than beautiful chestnut cob but the most reliable horse there, Aragorn was leading Hotspur and Roheryn into the field, little Éowyn was cleaning tack in the sun and chatting to her slightly older brother, who was soaping Firefoot's tail. In the outdoor arena Théoden's son Théodred was lunging Westie, his up-and- coming event horse. Théodred was a brilliant rider, and in all the pony club teams, and was a promising young eventer, He was going to make it to the top, everyone was sure. Gimli was mucking out one of the stables. Faramir had heard from Boromir that Gimli, though he loved horses and spent every day at the yard when he could, didn't ride anymore. Boromir had said the Dwarf used to be very good, and had been a promising Pony Club dressage champion. Faramir didn't know what dressage was, nor why Gimli had given up riding. Boromir had refused to let him in on that information.

"Hey, Borry! You're on time- are you ill?" Legolas called over with a laugh, looking up from picking out Armchair's hoof and pushing a strand of dark hair behind his ear.

"Shut up, Ears." Boromir laughed, coming up to him and patting Armchair heartily on the neck. Faramir approached the horse carefully and watched Legolas in fascination as the Elf cleaned out the cob's soup-plate feet with the metal pick.

"Why don't you clear out that triangle part?" he asked curiously.

Legolas looked up, then put down the pick. "That's the frog," he told Faramir, pressing his finger against it gently, "It's the source of blood to the foot and very sensitive. The rest of the hoof is like your fingernail, they don't feel it if you pick them out. But if you picked the frog it would hurt like Mordor."

"Cool," Faramir said, his eyes alight with interest, "Am I- am I riding this one?"

"Yup." Legolas put down the hoof and stood up, running his hand down Armchair's crest, "This is Armchair. I reckon you'll like him."

"Armchair? Weird name." Faramir laughed, gingerly stroking the horse's mane.

"It's cos he's so damn comfortable and reliable. Anyone can ride him, he'll look after you, don't worry- hey, Gimli? If you're going to the tack room grab Armchair's stuff will you?"

"Sure thing!" Gimli called back, as he walked off, hefting the pitchfork onto his broad, muscly shoulder.

A few minutes later, Gimli came back, a bridle over his shoulder and a saddle balanced on his bent forearm. He lifted it onto the door, and hung the bridle on a hook in the wall. He gave Faramir a friendly grin then left with Boromir to bring some hay bales in from the barn.

Legolas lifted up the saddle, then turned to Faramir, "Right, if you're going to ride, you have to learn the ground work too, okay?" Faramir nodded, "Right, I'll show you how to tack up..."

Faramir watched in fascination as the Elf explained how to put the saddle on in front of the horses withers (Faramir thought that sounded like a shrivelled vegetable, but was told it was the name for the slight bump seperating the horses neck and back) then to slide it down into place to smooth out any hairs. He learnt the names of the parts of the saddle, and how to gently pull up the girth (the belt holding the saddle in place) one hole at a time.

The bridle turned out to be much more complicated, and Faramir was shocked when Legolas told him that Armchair's bridle was a snaffle bridle and the most simple one there was. It was easy to put on, though Faramir was a little uncomfortable with putting a metal bar into an animals mouth, but the names of all the pieces of leather were confusing. Legolas assured him he would get there eventually.

Then Legolas left Faramir to keep an eye on Armchair (though the stocky animal was resting, his eyes half closed and the tip of his hind foot touching the floor, his leg bent- he didn't look like he would go anywhere soon) and went off to find Faramir a hat and a leadrope. Whilst Faramir waited, stroking Armchair's mane and gazing about, Théodred brought Westie in. Westie was incredibly striking, with long clean limbs and a beautifully shaped head. Even with Faramir's untrained eye, he could tell the horse had quality. Théodred took him into the stable Gimli had been mucking out and began to untack him. Faramir could hear his sonorous voice, and knew instantly that this was a man horses responded to. He was young, about eighteen, yet he had been around horses since he was born, and knew how to handle them. Faramir admired him immediately.

Legolas came back after a few minutes, and handed Faramir a hard hat. Faramir put it onto his head dubiously. He felt a bit of a prat in the hat but knew that everyone else wore them. Legolas clipped a leadrope to the right ring of Armchair's bit, and threaded it through the left, under the horse's chin.

"I'll lead you for a bit," he told Faramir, "And you can have a go on your own at the end. Armchair won't do anything."

When they went into the sand school, Legolas pulled down the stirrups of the saddle, and pulled up the girth whilst Faramir held the horse. The Legolas beckoned him around to the left side, and took the rope. "Now, you always mount and dismount from the left side, okay? Only in very special circumstances is it the other way round. Now, put your left foot into the stirrup- that's right- then hold onto the front of the saddle, and the mane, leave the reins for a moment. Now, hop, lift yourself up, and swing your leg over.... well done!"

Faramir settled onto the horses back, a feeling of pride growing in his stomach. He felt very high up and important, and he fixed his eyes on the large chestnut ears in front of him. They seemed a very long way away. A grin formed on Faramir's face.

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Woo! I'm actually WRITING! The story will deal with Faramir, but also other members of the yard. In a couple of chapters I think I'll start focusing on Gimli's lost confidence when it comes to horses. Oh, and here's a list of ages for the characters (I've tried to stick as close to canon as is possible with this kind of fic):

Boromir: 16 (typical teenager... you'll see!)

Faramir: 11 (he's so cute...)

Éomer: 8 (aw! Had to resist making him a bit older though...)

Éowyn: 6 (double aw! She's gonna be a right little madame. And ditto with the older thing from Éomer....)

Théodred: 18 (I have no canon info on the year of his birth. Help, please?)

Legolas: 16 (In Elf years- 144 years to an Elf year or so I've heard. So in our years he's... 2,304!)

Gimli: 16-17 (In Dwarf years- I'd say about 45 since dwarves come of age at 40)

Aragorn: 21 (non-canon I'm afraid. I don't want him to be too old)

They're all for now. When I have more characters involved I'll stick 'em on. Merci and please review!

~Wilderness~