Post by devilinthedetails on Dec 31, 2022 13:21:59 GMT 10
Title: Survivor
Summary: Wyldon has a horse for Tobe. Set after Lady Knight.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: References to child and animal abuse.
Author's Note: Reflective of my personal head canon that Kel adopted Tobe.
Survivor
“I bought a horse for your lad to look at, Mindelan.” Lord Wyldon’s crisp words were addressed to the woman who had formally adopted Tobe at Midwinter–the woman he was finally starting to think of as Mama in his own mind–but Tobe took them as permission to stroke the black stallion he had never seen before. A magnificent stallion who seemed both beautiful and broken. A stunning, shining coat that attested to impeccable breeding covering raw red scars.
When Tobe tenderly and reverently touched the stallion, images and impressions flooded him. Images and impressions from the horse. Of learning to canter and trot in a fenced yard. Of the nose-twitching smell of hay. Of the sweet and tart taste of apples. Of the delightful crunch that could only come from chewing orange carrots. Of the sharp sting of a lash slicing through all that. Cutting through flesh. Making it bleed and scar. A whip wielded by a figure in armor that gleamed silver in the sun.
“He was beaten.” Tobe lifted his eyes to Lord Wyldon’s even though he still felt as if he were seeing everything through the stallion’s gaze. A dislocating sensation. An out-of-body experience. “Not by you.”
The horse’s memories of Lord Wyldon were all warm. Like summer sunlight dappling a coat or a blanket wrapped snugly around a horse’s belly in winter when the stalls were so cold breath morphed into mist.
“I bred him.” Lord Wyldon confirmed the theory Tobe had managed to form from the jumbled puzzle pieces the horse had shared with him. The jagged edges of truth coming together. “I sold him to a knight who I later discovered was beating him. I’ve reclaimed him now.”
The way Lord Wyldon spat out the word “knight” like snake’s venom was impressive. As if it could be replaced with “villian” in this instance.
“How awful.” It was always difficult to tell when Mama was mad, but Tobe suspected from the tightness in her tone that she was. At the very least her protective hackles had been raised. “That anyone would treat so valuable a creature in such a vile manner.”
Fief Cavall bred the finest and most expensive mounts in Tortall. Tobe had learned that since leaving old Alvik’s inn.
“The knight was a fool.” Lord Wyldon grunted. Assessing strengths and weaknesses. Analyzing powers and talents. Flinty and unforgiving. “And I was even more so. Selling one of my mounts to him.”
“But you have him back now.” Mama’s voice was calm. Soft. Perfect for soothing a skittish horse. “You can heal him.”
The way Mama had healed Peachblossom according to Peachblossom’s memories.
“Perhaps I could.” Lord Wyldon shrugged. “Not as well as your boy could, though. He has the Wild Magic. Same as Daine. I do not.”
Before Mama could reply, Lord Wyldon went on with a dispassionate air as if he were not offering a revelation that could induce a heart attack, “That’s why I’m giving him to your boy.”
Mama and Tobe emitted the same astonished gasps. Spoke at the same time with very different words.
“Thank you, sir!” burst from Tobe’s eager lips. A cup of joy overflowing inside him to have such a glorious creature as his own horse. His to heal. To pet and coax with treats. To ride and guide.
In the same instant, Mama shook her head. Exclaiming, “It’s far too generous, my lord. We couldn’t possibly accept.”
“Your boy has already.” Lord Wyldon’s mouth quirked wryly. “He has more sense than you, Mindelan. The sense not to look a gift horse in the mouth. It would be cruel to deny him.”
Mama still appeared hesitant. She was quick to give charity herself but never wanted to receive it from others.
Tobe prepared to plead his case but was interrupted before he could begin when Lord Wyldon added another layer to the argument. A layer heavy with a significance Tobe could not understand. “If your boy enrolls in page training in the fall, he will need a proper mount. A knight’s mount. Let me supply one now. To atone for how unfairly I treated you when you were a page.”
Tobe didn’t know what that meant. Nor did he know if he wished to enroll in page training when the fall rolled around in a few months.
“You don’t need to atone, my lord.” Mama’s answer seemed to be both an absolution and a negation.
“I do, Keladry.” The first time in the conversation Lord Wyldon had called her by name. Not by her nickname as her friends did nor by the name of her fief as was his habit. “Accept my gift for my sake, the boy’s, and the horse’s.”
“You’ll make me feel I have a heart of stone if I refuse.” Mama lifted her hands in surrender. “Very well. I accept the gift with gratitude.”
“Good.” Lord Wyldon’s attention left her. Landed on Tobe, whose shoulder he clasped in a firm grip. Forcing Tobe’s eyes to meet his as he advised solemnly, “Take care of the horse, lad, and he will look out for you in every battle. He will be loyal to you if you treat him well.”
“Yes, sir.” Tobe nodded. Chin rising. A hint of defensiveness radiating off him. “I’d never treat a horse badly or betray their trust in me.”
“Tobe,” Mama cautioned. “Don’t be impertinent.”
“I haven’t been impertinent yet, Mama.” Tobe brushed off the reprimand. Asked Lord Wyldon, “What’s the horse’s name, sir?”
“He had a name once. One I gave him.” Lord Wyldon’s gaze was dark with memory and sorrow. A tangled thicket of grief. “But now that he is to be your mount, you should have the honor of naming him anew. Bestowing on him a new name for this fresh chapter in his life.”
“I will name him Survivor,” Tobe declared after a moment’s consideration. Because the name felt right. Seemed to fit like a glove. Defined him and his horse. Their pride and shame intertwined. Their hurt, hope, and healing. Their enduring dignity in the face of adversity. “Because that is what he is, and what I am.”
Lord Wyldon didn’t respond to that. At least not directly. Instead turned to Mama and said, “You’re doing well with your boy. He’ll make a far better knight if he goes to the palace than the knave I first sold Survivor to.”
Mama glowed as if she had received the greatest compliment in the world, and Tobe basked in the reflected light of her pleasure.
Summary: Wyldon has a horse for Tobe. Set after Lady Knight.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: References to child and animal abuse.
Author's Note: Reflective of my personal head canon that Kel adopted Tobe.
Survivor
“I bought a horse for your lad to look at, Mindelan.” Lord Wyldon’s crisp words were addressed to the woman who had formally adopted Tobe at Midwinter–the woman he was finally starting to think of as Mama in his own mind–but Tobe took them as permission to stroke the black stallion he had never seen before. A magnificent stallion who seemed both beautiful and broken. A stunning, shining coat that attested to impeccable breeding covering raw red scars.
When Tobe tenderly and reverently touched the stallion, images and impressions flooded him. Images and impressions from the horse. Of learning to canter and trot in a fenced yard. Of the nose-twitching smell of hay. Of the sweet and tart taste of apples. Of the delightful crunch that could only come from chewing orange carrots. Of the sharp sting of a lash slicing through all that. Cutting through flesh. Making it bleed and scar. A whip wielded by a figure in armor that gleamed silver in the sun.
“He was beaten.” Tobe lifted his eyes to Lord Wyldon’s even though he still felt as if he were seeing everything through the stallion’s gaze. A dislocating sensation. An out-of-body experience. “Not by you.”
The horse’s memories of Lord Wyldon were all warm. Like summer sunlight dappling a coat or a blanket wrapped snugly around a horse’s belly in winter when the stalls were so cold breath morphed into mist.
“I bred him.” Lord Wyldon confirmed the theory Tobe had managed to form from the jumbled puzzle pieces the horse had shared with him. The jagged edges of truth coming together. “I sold him to a knight who I later discovered was beating him. I’ve reclaimed him now.”
The way Lord Wyldon spat out the word “knight” like snake’s venom was impressive. As if it could be replaced with “villian” in this instance.
“How awful.” It was always difficult to tell when Mama was mad, but Tobe suspected from the tightness in her tone that she was. At the very least her protective hackles had been raised. “That anyone would treat so valuable a creature in such a vile manner.”
Fief Cavall bred the finest and most expensive mounts in Tortall. Tobe had learned that since leaving old Alvik’s inn.
“The knight was a fool.” Lord Wyldon grunted. Assessing strengths and weaknesses. Analyzing powers and talents. Flinty and unforgiving. “And I was even more so. Selling one of my mounts to him.”
“But you have him back now.” Mama’s voice was calm. Soft. Perfect for soothing a skittish horse. “You can heal him.”
The way Mama had healed Peachblossom according to Peachblossom’s memories.
“Perhaps I could.” Lord Wyldon shrugged. “Not as well as your boy could, though. He has the Wild Magic. Same as Daine. I do not.”
Before Mama could reply, Lord Wyldon went on with a dispassionate air as if he were not offering a revelation that could induce a heart attack, “That’s why I’m giving him to your boy.”
Mama and Tobe emitted the same astonished gasps. Spoke at the same time with very different words.
“Thank you, sir!” burst from Tobe’s eager lips. A cup of joy overflowing inside him to have such a glorious creature as his own horse. His to heal. To pet and coax with treats. To ride and guide.
In the same instant, Mama shook her head. Exclaiming, “It’s far too generous, my lord. We couldn’t possibly accept.”
“Your boy has already.” Lord Wyldon’s mouth quirked wryly. “He has more sense than you, Mindelan. The sense not to look a gift horse in the mouth. It would be cruel to deny him.”
Mama still appeared hesitant. She was quick to give charity herself but never wanted to receive it from others.
Tobe prepared to plead his case but was interrupted before he could begin when Lord Wyldon added another layer to the argument. A layer heavy with a significance Tobe could not understand. “If your boy enrolls in page training in the fall, he will need a proper mount. A knight’s mount. Let me supply one now. To atone for how unfairly I treated you when you were a page.”
Tobe didn’t know what that meant. Nor did he know if he wished to enroll in page training when the fall rolled around in a few months.
“You don’t need to atone, my lord.” Mama’s answer seemed to be both an absolution and a negation.
“I do, Keladry.” The first time in the conversation Lord Wyldon had called her by name. Not by her nickname as her friends did nor by the name of her fief as was his habit. “Accept my gift for my sake, the boy’s, and the horse’s.”
“You’ll make me feel I have a heart of stone if I refuse.” Mama lifted her hands in surrender. “Very well. I accept the gift with gratitude.”
“Good.” Lord Wyldon’s attention left her. Landed on Tobe, whose shoulder he clasped in a firm grip. Forcing Tobe’s eyes to meet his as he advised solemnly, “Take care of the horse, lad, and he will look out for you in every battle. He will be loyal to you if you treat him well.”
“Yes, sir.” Tobe nodded. Chin rising. A hint of defensiveness radiating off him. “I’d never treat a horse badly or betray their trust in me.”
“Tobe,” Mama cautioned. “Don’t be impertinent.”
“I haven’t been impertinent yet, Mama.” Tobe brushed off the reprimand. Asked Lord Wyldon, “What’s the horse’s name, sir?”
“He had a name once. One I gave him.” Lord Wyldon’s gaze was dark with memory and sorrow. A tangled thicket of grief. “But now that he is to be your mount, you should have the honor of naming him anew. Bestowing on him a new name for this fresh chapter in his life.”
“I will name him Survivor,” Tobe declared after a moment’s consideration. Because the name felt right. Seemed to fit like a glove. Defined him and his horse. Their pride and shame intertwined. Their hurt, hope, and healing. Their enduring dignity in the face of adversity. “Because that is what he is, and what I am.”
Lord Wyldon didn’t respond to that. At least not directly. Instead turned to Mama and said, “You’re doing well with your boy. He’ll make a far better knight if he goes to the palace than the knave I first sold Survivor to.”
Mama glowed as if she had received the greatest compliment in the world, and Tobe basked in the reflected light of her pleasure.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!