Post by aurorax on Jul 13, 2011 16:27:47 GMT 10
Title: Give Her a Smile
Rating: PG
Couple/Character: Tobe/Vania
Event: 1500 word dash
Words: 1500
Summary: New recruits, new friendships. A case of mistaken identity.
Vania wandered aimlessly to the edge of the paddock, only half interested in the newest crop of Rider recruits. It seemed they’d just been instructed to choose their future mounts. Mother had been encouraging her to train with the Riders for some time, and recently even Father had agreed, so anxious were they both to see her truly engaged in something, anything. Since Kally left she’d been the palace ghost, drifting the halls in a daze, and even the promise of Roald’s upcoming wedding did little to raise her spirits. She performed her duties flawlessly, of course, just how she’d been taught, but her spirit had been broken and even her family had begun to avoid meeting her hollow, lifeless eyes.
The boy looked too young to be a Rider, yet he was one of the few who stood without fear, navigating the maze of mud and ponies and trainees with an easy grace that drew her full attention at last. She was staring unabashedly when he turned suddenly and began to approach her, covering the distance easily with a quick loping gait. He stopped just in front of her on the other side of the fence, taking his hands from his pockets to rest them on the weather-beaten wood. His shoulders barely cleared the top rung, and he had to look up slightly to meet her eyes when he spoke; up close, he appeared even younger than she’d realized at first, and there was something endearingly childlike in his warm smile, even as his eyes betrayed hidden depths and darker secrets.
“They’re not so bad if you give them a chance,” he said to her, reaching across the fence to offer his hand. “You just can’t let ‘em know that you’re afraid. They’re smart like that, they can sense fear from a mile away. And some of them, they aren’t afraid to take advantage when you’re nervous. But you need to pick your mounts, that’s Rider regulations and standin’ here isn’t going to get anything done. Commander Larse said he’d let the lot of you hesitating ones just go on standin’ for as long as need be, but trust me when I say pickin’ ponies is something that’s best done when there’s still a bit of daylight to go by.
“I’m not a recruit. I’m a princess. Vania.” She hadn’t meant to reply abruptly, but the boy seemed embarrassed all the same, backing away quickly while mumbling apologies. His earlier confidence seemed to have left him, and he nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste, catching himself heavily on the fencepost. She could almost feel his blush, spreading violently across his pale skin and charging the air between them.
She tried to call after the boy—she had a sudden urge to comfort him, to let him know that she’d just been startled and disarmed by the odd juxtaposition of his confidence and confusion. It had been years since she’d had a conversation with someone who hadn’t immediately recognized her for a princess and treated her as such. But her words were lost to the wind, or at least he didn’t make any indication that he’d heard them as he strode over to offer a hand up to a tousled recruit who’d just been bucked off a particularly spirited chestnut.
Vania stood by the fence as the shadows lengthened around her, wishing she’d at least gotten the boy’s name. It was true dark before she turned to head back towards the castle, wondering if anyone had even bothered to start looking for her. Would they even make the effort anymore, royal or not? She hadn’t exactly given them any reason to care recently. As she walked slowly up the rolling hill away from the fields, she could still hear the creak of leather harnesses and the whinnies of disgruntled ponies ringing out through the night air, mixed with the muffled curses of the few poor recruits who were still left clinging to the paddock fences or fumbling around in the darkness for their mounts. Evin had clearly made good on his threat, just like the boy had claimed he would. And listening to the rush of hooves and the heavy footfalls of someone running wildly to avoid an unseen charge, Vania laughed for the first time since before the war.
*****
It had been a long day—the first of many, Tobe realized with tired reluctance. He had known what he was getting into when he agreed to sign on with Onua; both she and Kel had made it clear in no uncertain terms that he would be working harder than he’d ever imagined. But Tobe also knew that this was an opportunity that couldn’t be passed up; the chance to come to Corus, to aid the Riders, to work with ponies all day. And besides, he was used to being busy; rebuilding New Hope had certainly been no small task.
It was nice to have something to keep his mind busy, so full of instructions and tasks that no thoughts of home could creep in to catch him off guard. He missed all of them, the ragtag group of refugees who’d become the only family he’d ever known. Lady Kel in particular; it was strange that he’d been the one to leave, after all those months of fear that he’d wake up one day and realize she’d gone on without him. But Kel had seen the bitter disappointment in his eyes as he’d watch Loey and Gydo and the others who had already turned 15 leave for the castle, ready to become the heroes of their own battles. Hadn’t he proved himself, in Scanra and throughout the war? Yet he was always too young, too inexperienced, the one left behind.
Riding with Onua to collect the ponies was the perfect compromise—a way for him to start forging his own path without breaking the Rider’s rules. The trip to Galla had been enlightening; he’d watched Onua closely as she worked with the ponies, learning as he went. Though he’d always felt a connection to horses, Tobe hadn’t received any formal training—before the war, he’d only had the occasional traveler’s mount in the stables to keep him company, and though he’d learned quickly among the soldiers, it had been a scattered and unstructured apprenticeship, picking up small tricks here and there. Seeing Onua with the herd was an education in itself.
After so much time riding with a single companion, the crowds and colors of Corus had been a shock, and before he’d even had a chance to catch his breath there were group leaders to meet and recruits to assist. Tobe felt like he’d been caught in a whirlwind of activity, at once carefully planned and completely unexpected. It was clear that the commanders had been through this all before—Sarge and Commander Larse bellowed out orders and somehow made sense among the chaos of young men and women, some chatting animatedly with one another, others standing almost unnoticed at the back of the group.
Then they had released the new recruits into the paddock to pick their mounts, and all hell had broken loose. There were a few overconfident trainees who thought they could handle anything and were promptly thrown, others who were too tentative and approached with shy jerky gestures that spooked the ponies and caused stampedes. Tobe swore that half of them looked as if they’d never seen a horse in their lives, let alone ridden one. He circled the paddock as Onua had instructed, trying to be everywhere at once, calming and reassuring ponies and trainees alike.
He was beginning to wonder if the day would ever end as he walked toward the young woman who was still stubbornly standing on the wrong side of the paddock fence. Through his exhaustion he tried to summon a friendly smile, knowing that she might just need a bit of encouragement—as strange as it seemed, he had quickly learned that some of the recruits were really afraid of the ponies, irrationally afraid, like how Irnai had feared spiders and Meech refused to be alone in the dark.
The trainee wore her dark hair tied back in a braid. Her stance was casual, bored even, arms folded lazily against the highest rung, legs crossed; she didn’t appear to be overly interested in examining the ponies, though as he neared her Tobe saw her head tilt towards him, and her eyes looked up questioningly from behind thick lashes.
She’s too pretty to be a Rider was Tobe’s first thought, though that wasn’t right—Onua’d told him the Queen herself had commanded the Riders for years, and she was supposed to be the most beautiful woman in Tortall. I hope she makes it was his second, inexplicably; there was just something in her eyes that made Tobe want to help her, despite her stubborn disinterest.
There was something special about this one; he just knew it.
Rating: PG
Couple/Character: Tobe/Vania
Event: 1500 word dash
Words: 1500
Summary: New recruits, new friendships. A case of mistaken identity.
Vania wandered aimlessly to the edge of the paddock, only half interested in the newest crop of Rider recruits. It seemed they’d just been instructed to choose their future mounts. Mother had been encouraging her to train with the Riders for some time, and recently even Father had agreed, so anxious were they both to see her truly engaged in something, anything. Since Kally left she’d been the palace ghost, drifting the halls in a daze, and even the promise of Roald’s upcoming wedding did little to raise her spirits. She performed her duties flawlessly, of course, just how she’d been taught, but her spirit had been broken and even her family had begun to avoid meeting her hollow, lifeless eyes.
The boy looked too young to be a Rider, yet he was one of the few who stood without fear, navigating the maze of mud and ponies and trainees with an easy grace that drew her full attention at last. She was staring unabashedly when he turned suddenly and began to approach her, covering the distance easily with a quick loping gait. He stopped just in front of her on the other side of the fence, taking his hands from his pockets to rest them on the weather-beaten wood. His shoulders barely cleared the top rung, and he had to look up slightly to meet her eyes when he spoke; up close, he appeared even younger than she’d realized at first, and there was something endearingly childlike in his warm smile, even as his eyes betrayed hidden depths and darker secrets.
“They’re not so bad if you give them a chance,” he said to her, reaching across the fence to offer his hand. “You just can’t let ‘em know that you’re afraid. They’re smart like that, they can sense fear from a mile away. And some of them, they aren’t afraid to take advantage when you’re nervous. But you need to pick your mounts, that’s Rider regulations and standin’ here isn’t going to get anything done. Commander Larse said he’d let the lot of you hesitating ones just go on standin’ for as long as need be, but trust me when I say pickin’ ponies is something that’s best done when there’s still a bit of daylight to go by.
“I’m not a recruit. I’m a princess. Vania.” She hadn’t meant to reply abruptly, but the boy seemed embarrassed all the same, backing away quickly while mumbling apologies. His earlier confidence seemed to have left him, and he nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste, catching himself heavily on the fencepost. She could almost feel his blush, spreading violently across his pale skin and charging the air between them.
She tried to call after the boy—she had a sudden urge to comfort him, to let him know that she’d just been startled and disarmed by the odd juxtaposition of his confidence and confusion. It had been years since she’d had a conversation with someone who hadn’t immediately recognized her for a princess and treated her as such. But her words were lost to the wind, or at least he didn’t make any indication that he’d heard them as he strode over to offer a hand up to a tousled recruit who’d just been bucked off a particularly spirited chestnut.
Vania stood by the fence as the shadows lengthened around her, wishing she’d at least gotten the boy’s name. It was true dark before she turned to head back towards the castle, wondering if anyone had even bothered to start looking for her. Would they even make the effort anymore, royal or not? She hadn’t exactly given them any reason to care recently. As she walked slowly up the rolling hill away from the fields, she could still hear the creak of leather harnesses and the whinnies of disgruntled ponies ringing out through the night air, mixed with the muffled curses of the few poor recruits who were still left clinging to the paddock fences or fumbling around in the darkness for their mounts. Evin had clearly made good on his threat, just like the boy had claimed he would. And listening to the rush of hooves and the heavy footfalls of someone running wildly to avoid an unseen charge, Vania laughed for the first time since before the war.
*****
It had been a long day—the first of many, Tobe realized with tired reluctance. He had known what he was getting into when he agreed to sign on with Onua; both she and Kel had made it clear in no uncertain terms that he would be working harder than he’d ever imagined. But Tobe also knew that this was an opportunity that couldn’t be passed up; the chance to come to Corus, to aid the Riders, to work with ponies all day. And besides, he was used to being busy; rebuilding New Hope had certainly been no small task.
It was nice to have something to keep his mind busy, so full of instructions and tasks that no thoughts of home could creep in to catch him off guard. He missed all of them, the ragtag group of refugees who’d become the only family he’d ever known. Lady Kel in particular; it was strange that he’d been the one to leave, after all those months of fear that he’d wake up one day and realize she’d gone on without him. But Kel had seen the bitter disappointment in his eyes as he’d watch Loey and Gydo and the others who had already turned 15 leave for the castle, ready to become the heroes of their own battles. Hadn’t he proved himself, in Scanra and throughout the war? Yet he was always too young, too inexperienced, the one left behind.
Riding with Onua to collect the ponies was the perfect compromise—a way for him to start forging his own path without breaking the Rider’s rules. The trip to Galla had been enlightening; he’d watched Onua closely as she worked with the ponies, learning as he went. Though he’d always felt a connection to horses, Tobe hadn’t received any formal training—before the war, he’d only had the occasional traveler’s mount in the stables to keep him company, and though he’d learned quickly among the soldiers, it had been a scattered and unstructured apprenticeship, picking up small tricks here and there. Seeing Onua with the herd was an education in itself.
After so much time riding with a single companion, the crowds and colors of Corus had been a shock, and before he’d even had a chance to catch his breath there were group leaders to meet and recruits to assist. Tobe felt like he’d been caught in a whirlwind of activity, at once carefully planned and completely unexpected. It was clear that the commanders had been through this all before—Sarge and Commander Larse bellowed out orders and somehow made sense among the chaos of young men and women, some chatting animatedly with one another, others standing almost unnoticed at the back of the group.
Then they had released the new recruits into the paddock to pick their mounts, and all hell had broken loose. There were a few overconfident trainees who thought they could handle anything and were promptly thrown, others who were too tentative and approached with shy jerky gestures that spooked the ponies and caused stampedes. Tobe swore that half of them looked as if they’d never seen a horse in their lives, let alone ridden one. He circled the paddock as Onua had instructed, trying to be everywhere at once, calming and reassuring ponies and trainees alike.
He was beginning to wonder if the day would ever end as he walked toward the young woman who was still stubbornly standing on the wrong side of the paddock fence. Through his exhaustion he tried to summon a friendly smile, knowing that she might just need a bit of encouragement—as strange as it seemed, he had quickly learned that some of the recruits were really afraid of the ponies, irrationally afraid, like how Irnai had feared spiders and Meech refused to be alone in the dark.
The trainee wore her dark hair tied back in a braid. Her stance was casual, bored even, arms folded lazily against the highest rung, legs crossed; she didn’t appear to be overly interested in examining the ponies, though as he neared her Tobe saw her head tilt towards him, and her eyes looked up questioningly from behind thick lashes.
She’s too pretty to be a Rider was Tobe’s first thought, though that wasn’t right—Onua’d told him the Queen herself had commanded the Riders for years, and she was supposed to be the most beautiful woman in Tortall. I hope she makes it was his second, inexplicably; there was just something in her eyes that made Tobe want to help her, despite her stubborn disinterest.
There was something special about this one; he just knew it.