|
"Horse Tales"Written By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Yaoi, Very AU, so very AU it's AD, another
dimension. The GW boys are horses. My apologies. Please heed the warning. Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 6x5 Summary: A few lucky stallion purebreds are given a second chance at the Horse Haven Sanc-tuary. A/N: In defense of my writing this extreme version
of a GW story… Waterlily and Snowdragon made me do it, heh, heh… " Horse Tales" Chapter One-;Two's Company "Just call me Howard," I told the officer. "Er, yes, sir. Ah, as I was saying, he'd be perfect for a mounted police horse, but we're over-stocked already," the man explained. "We called around and heard about your place." Not that the "ranch" was mine, but I represented the interests of the consortium of doctors, both medical and research doctors, who provided the financial backing "We house wild mustangs on rangeland," I told my caller. "More of a hobby than anything." But knowing I could use a good mount of my own, my interest grew. "Tell me more about this horse." "Fine animal with excellent breeding. From the Darlian stable." "Oh." That place had burned to the ground recently. Shame; it had had a good rep. "Oh, ho, ho... his name is Heero, spelled H-I-R-O in this news article and... H-E-E-R-O in this one, so take your pick. Apparently, he's trained in dressage-" "We have a small stable designed to house sick animals, but it could be enlarged, I suppose." I imagined a stable with multiple stalls, dedicated bathing and grooming area, tack room- "One good riding horse would be useful. All right. Bring him in, officer." Heh, heh... I'd always wanted to say that. Horse Haven Sanc-tuary gave the wild Mustangs of the Sanc kingdom a second chance. The doctors had pooled their plentiful resources to purchase the land and establish their tax-deductable, home for the horses. The animals were a mixed lot, generations removed from the mounts of a long-gone native people. The fine rangeland provided ideal conditions for the animals to thrive, for awhile. They roamed the rolling hills, over grazing and competing successfully with the native deer and insurgent cattle. When their numbers grew too great, Sanc and its neighboring kingdoms came together, rounding up and re-distributing the excess animals from one over-used area to previously un-grazed land. This was considered the most humane way to solve the abundance problem, as long as there were generous people to take the wild animals, otherwise the horses stood to be destroyed. Here at Horse Haven they were lovely to see, when I could get a glimpse of them. They called me to head up the program and live on the premises. Wide open spaces and state of the art facilities built to my specifications? Sure, I took the job. Never let it be said that Howard was too stupid not to see a great deal when he found one. I'd run the Peacecraft stables for over 20 years. It was time to retire to the country, heh, heh. I tossed the formal wear and donned sunglasses and Hawaiian shirts, only adding jackets to conform to the weather conditions. I was a lucky man. Doing what I loved in pastoral peace and beauty gave me a reason to rise with the sun each and every day. I notified the doctors of my plans. Actually, the doctors were terribly excited to enlarge their venture. "Possibly breed race horses!" Doctor J suggested when I told him Heero was a thoroughbred. "All the Darlian stable papers on him were destroyed in the fire, so we don't know any particulars," I warned the man. "There were pictures from the papers of the Darlian girl exhibiting him in a show for a dressage event." "We could breed the finest show horses!" Not my specialty, but that was no time to get into the finer details. I was looking forward to preparing for this fine, new horse named "Heero." The next afternoon, I had a crew out tearing down the ramshackle stable and pouring concrete for our new ten-horse stable with modern conveniences. Ten- just to be on the safe side should future horses come our way. I had plans for a state of the art attached barn and arena-the largest in the Sanc kingdom. I got on the phone and hired a groom and stable crew. There was plenty of money to throw at this venture. As soon as the stable was ready, I attached a nameplate above the first stall door, and Heero arrived later that week. Getting him out of the horse trailer, I could tell he was a serious animal; quick to obey, and ever alert. He gleamed in a lovely reddish shade often referred to as blood bay with dark tail, mane and legs. No blaze or stockings. No white at all. Awesome animal. Joining me to greet the new horse was Doctor J. He was a quirky man, an engineer, who took to Heero immediately. "I've become an expert in the field of Thoroughbreds. The Thoroughbred is deep through the heart not only in conformation but in fighting spirit and the love of running and competing is inherent in the breed's nature." "I was told he's trained in dressage." "A show horse? A waste of this fine animal. Of course, a Thoroughbred horse is so well conformed and the heart and intelligence so much present that this breed excels in any wide number of disciplines. The stamina, courage and speed of the Thoroughbred horse is well-known and highly prized the world over. Couple these traits with the beauty and grace of the blood horse, add high intelligence, and it is no wonder Thoroughbred horses are called thorough-bred!" "Lucky for us Heero's ours." "Hmmm, pity there's just the one. He's a stallion and there can be complications when stallions are kept in confined in the unnatural conditions of isolation." "I can't very well let him roam with the wild horses," I said. "No, but you see isolation tends to produce psychological aberrations in the stallion, with an associated reduction in the degree to which behavior can be predicted. To the degree that other horses, animals, or people may be wrongly perceived as a threat, with the result being that they are driven forcibly from the area - through or over gates and fences if necessary." "We can't have that," I agreed, regretting already my decision to accept the free horse. That old saying came to mind, "Never look a gift horse in the mouth?" How about the pocketbook? I would need to get him a companion soon, and that one probably would cost an arm and a leg-and a hoof. (o) Heero POV I smelt grass and wild lands, which was exciting. My attention strayed, following the pungent summer herbs of pastureland. And then I was introduced to two strangers, Howard and Doctor J. I learned names quickly. The one wasn't entirely human, wearing artificial eyes and an arm lacking warmth and flesh. I stood my ground, though, and showed no fear as it caressed my neck, and the mechanical fingers gave a good scratch. Both masters were kind from the start, for which I was grateful. I looked around for some sign of the little lady, Relena, but she wasn't here. Most likely I hadn't followed her to her new home. I missed her familiar, gentle touch. After a half hour run in the outdoor arena, I felt better, stretching my legs after the long ride in the trailer. A roll on the small grassy patch and long refreshing drink- yes, this new place was acceptable. I took the carrot offering even though it wasn't necessary to coax me into my stall. I was curious about where I'd be staying. I wanted to examine it. The floors were hard cement. Easy to clean and not flammable, but not as soft as the dirt floors of my old home. Clean bedding and lots of it. I would be indulged. Fresh water was plentiful and good for putting out errant flames. Howard scooped grain from a huge metal container and poured it into a trough for me. I didn't think rodents could bite through the metal, which meant fewer of those. I didn't like the pests. My lady had had cats, always cats underfoot, to chase them away. Cats were annoying, but they learned to move fast after a warning kick. I saw no cats here. Or other horses. I was alone. The last few weeks, since ... I'd been taken from my lady's home... I'd been stabled with the police horses. Very fine animals. I'd expected and hoped to join them. But here I was. Alone. Safe. Clean. Scrupulously clean. Nice-voiced masters. I could rest well here. Alone. I required very little sleep; no horse does. I wasn't much for drowsing away my time, either, which meant I had many hours to whittle away. I looked for exposed or protruding screws, nails or bolts, and found none. Attached just outside my door hung a fire extinguisher within easy reach for a human. I would search for others when given the chance. It was important that all safety precautions were taken. My new stall opened at both ends, the inner door into a cavernous barn. It smelled of fresh wood and didn't look used. Tools and equipment picked up and stored properly from what I could tell. Everything added up to my new home being a safe environment and demonstrated the stable manager's concern for details. My other door was split with a window on top, which had been left wide open. I enjoyed the summer breeze and as the sun fell, the evening crickets. Many new sounds, but my ears ached for those familiar ones that meant I was home. I always slept standing, ready to run. It had saved my life once. (o) Howard POV The second horse came after a frantic call from the Maxwell Church, telling me that a young stallion's caretaker could no longer afford his room and board and had given him to the church. One tough little stallion waiting for a new home, or so went the story. "We adore him; he's very friendly and has pluck, but we must find a real home for him. Can you help us?" I explained to Sister Helen how the doctors already had a herd of worthless horseflesh on the dole, and that we didn't really need more. "He was used for pony rides for children and is very sweet-tempered." I had interpreted the horse's situation as neglected after the owner had "passed" from injuries in a drunken brawl leaving his horse to fend to itself. "Let me guess, he's always been in city stables and is now half-starved? He'd never get accustomed to the wide open spaces," I countered. But she was an expert. "We found papers on the horse saying he's a purebred Morgan. Quite the beauty and young. Name of Max, I think, but that may have been the other one that just died." How did she know I was a sucker for all black or white horses? "Bring our little blessing on in then," I caved. When he showed up, he didn't look like a Max. "Mess" was a better name. Professor G, the creative genius, named him "Duo" because with Heero we had two horses. Duo turned out to be a black chestnut purebred Morgan stallion, the darkest shade of chestnut- so dark it could be mistaken for black, with an unbelievably long and tangled mane, and a star, no... more of a crescent shape, a scythe to be precise, between his eyes. He may have been a purebred, but Duo was a dirty and neglected one. He had trouble exiting the trailer; I doubted if he'd ever been outside of a city stable, if he'd been on the pony-ride circuit. Flies clustered around his eyes and ears, and he looked as if he'd like to run away from us, looking for refuge from the heat and bugs and possibly cruel humans. He was also a stallion. It was uncommon to use stallions for kiddie rides; they weren't to be trusted, I'd heard. "He's pitifully thin, with protruding ribs." Professor G patted his neck. "But his coat is still good and his muscles show no wasting. Poor thing." He seemed to be rooted in place, shifting his weight as if to move but unable to lift his feet. His hooves needed immediate attention. "Couple weeks without care at least. I'll get the farrier here and put him on the payroll." We walked him slowly around to the back of the barn. "I'm putting him in this last stall, far from Heero, just in case he's carrying some bug." Duo took one painful step toward the stall, tottered a moment then sighed and dropped his head again, his muzzle almost touching the ground. "We'll fix you up all proper in the morning, boy, I promise. Now, I got you a good dinner inside-" He rolled his large eyes, gave me a good-natured snort, and then stepped inside his stall. "Smart horse." "Young and I'll bet there's a luxurious tail and mane under all that dirt and snarled mess. Heart of gold." (o) Heero POV I heard the truck pull up and the sound of a horse trailer ramp being lowered. Whoever the newcomer was, it hadn't taken much cajoling to get him out. Him. I could smell "male" and sickness. I stretched my neck out the open window of my stall as far as possible in order to get a glimpse of him. It was summer and warm and the masters left the upper portion of the split doors open at night. At first, I saw no one. I could hear Howard's voice. They were coming around the stables at the far end away from me. I couldn't make out anything except that he was a very dark color. Then he stumbled. Not for long. He got his feet back under him and trailed Howard into the last stall. I wished he'd come closer so I could see him, but then I didn't want a sick animal near me either. Best keep him and his infestations far away. Then it was quiet. It was as if I was alone again. But then I heard Howard's voice, crooning to the new horse. Apparently, the man was spending the night by his side. I felt lucky to have such an astute owner, because, just like sick people, horses feel worse at night. (o) Duo POV My dreadlock mane and my tail braided into a rope dragging on the ground had to have been a groomer's nightmare, but I hardly had the strength to care anymore. I didn't feel like the scrappy, tough, tireless horse I'd once been. The man called Howard and a woman, a vet, I think, treated the open sores and checked my temperature and pulse. I wasn't sick. I knew that. I was starving and my feet hurt and I had a few other complaints, but I didn't feel ill. I think they understood and knew what they were doing; though, I wasn't in a condition to question their judgment. That first night I was treated for injuries, fed lightly, put into a stall. I felt worse as the night wore on. Every sore stung and my overgrown hooves bugged me, especially the one missing a shoe, so I knelt onto the soft straw. Tons of it. I even nibbled on some and thought about how lucky I was to be alive and cared for. I didn't think about much else. I must have dozed off, because I opened my eyes to see Howard sitting beside me, murmuring sweet nothings and changing the bandage on my neck. That felt nice. He was nice and smelled good. I breathed a sigh of relief and licked his hair, my way of saying thanks. (o) Heero POV I awoke to men's voices, but not nearby. They were tending to the new horse. Good. I wanted nothing to do with a sick animal. A stableboy visited me and I was fed and let out into the fenced yard. I loved the freedom and soft dirt under foot. I ran and ran and ran. I couldn't run so far as to escape the sound of humans. They were building something very large which would connect to the barn. The stalls opened into the barn on one side; this would be on the other. Whatever it was. Later, a handler saddled and rode me in the arena, testing my training, I guessed. He and I didn't communicate well. My lady Relena had trained me with her own cues; now I'd need to relearn. I would do that, since humans insisted on doing things their way. At the end of our session in the hot sun came my favorite activity: water spray. Cooling, refreshing, and the water chased off the flies. I'd stand in the graveled spot and shake my mane and tail while chilly water rinsed me. In the heat of the day, I was used to resting and grazing where I'd lived before, at my old home. Here, the pastureland was fenced off; I could see it, but no one let me out. Instead, I was led to my stall and fed a controlled diet. I found this alternative acceptable. I appreciated the shade and awaited the cooler evening and a visit from one of my owners. With nothing else to do but think, I wondered how the other horse was doing. I hadn't heard a snort from him. Maybe he hadn't made it. That made me feel sad and I'd realized how much I'd been looking forward to having a stable mate. Nevertheless, I had actually forgotten all about the other horse until late in the morning of the next day; I saw him. I also saw a familiar human, the blacksmith from the Darling stables! I called to the human from my stall window. My hooves needed attention, too! The farrier stood and waved, saying something to me, and then moved on to the next foot of the new horse. That other stallion needed him more at the moment. His hooves looked painfully overgrown and uneven. One shoe was missing. Plaster patches dotted his legs and neck, covering sores. His mane, if that's what it was, hung in ropes to his knees and his tail reached the ground in the ugliest braided knot I'd ever seen. He was almost black in color, except for a white splotch between his eyes. Those eyes rolled my way, skimmed past mine, and then closed. I imagined he felt as miserable as he looked. Undernourished and unwell. I felt for him. I'd never been in that condition myself, but I'd heard stories. His spirit hadn't been broken, though. As Howard held his head, scratching his ears, distracting him with attention, the farrier went to work. The newcomer had the most amazing, dexterous lips. He carefully snuck apple slices and carrot chunks from Howard's pocket. The little thief! Some of those were mine! (0) Duo POV The next day started new treatments, which I dreaded on principle. I recognized blacksmithing tools instantly, and getting my hooves trimmed was going to be pure torture. And combing out my tail, ugh, they'd probably cut it off. Still, I was determined to prove my worth and gratitude by not kicking the shit out of the humans. I knew they meant well, but the entire process was going to take forever and involve some degree of pain-I just knew it. I discovered the one called Howard carried food treats in a pocket and helped myself. It would help pass the time. Then the blacksmith started a swell leg massage, and I'll tell you that was sweet. Taking time out to get some endorphins going was nice and I rewarded the man by cooperating fully. There was another horse, a fellow stallion, who watched the fussing about. I'm sure I musta been poor entertainment, 'cause he kept to his stall instead of coming over to say hi. I heard him nicker, but it wasn't at me. The farrier, of all people, stood and waved at him. Old pals, I guessed, which was good news. Most horses don't like the humans that bother with their hooves. Fitted out with new shoes, I could walk right and felt a whole lot better. Things were looking up. Next, I hoped for a bath, but I was led back into my stall, where another full meal awaited me. Okay, I could go for that. Alfalfa hay was more palatable than grass hays, and I hadn't tasted the green stuff since I couldn't remember when. They let me eat as much meadow hay as I wanted. Aside from keeping me entertained, the bulk aided my digestion. I may have inhaled the food, but I was a connoisseur. And I could tell I'd hit pay dirt this time. I made out whole oats and mixtures of rolled grains and molasses, applesauce, and salt. Really amazing. All horses have small stomachs for their size and need to eat little and often. Mine was shrunk up so I couldn't eat all I wanted, and the humans had thought of that and not given me all that much, but it tasted so good. In a field, horses could graze for most of the day, or so I'd heard from Solo's tales. I'd never had that luxury, having been a city horse, but I dreamed of eating my way through a landscape. I drank my fill of water, which tasted a bit chemically, but because I was sure it was just medicine, I didn't care. I ate, lay down, and just about said a word to my old pal, Solo. I knew he wasn't there; I'd watched him die of some sickness a few days earlier, but I missed his company and felt very, very alone. Between the medicines and the full stomach and my general weakness, I dozed off and slept restlessly for the rest of the day. I hurt here and there and twitches kept waking me up. Once when I awoke, my stall was shrouded in shadows, and I wasn't sure where I was. Then I heard a familiar voice, and I was so happy to see that kind-hearted Howard man. He stayed with me to watch for signs of illness, was my guess, and tended my sores. The company was super and I think he gave me a shot of something to knock me out 'cause I did sleep. I hadn't always been such a wuss, but neglect catches up to a horse. The next day I woke up to the sound of Howard's cheerful greeting and the smell of more, fresh food dropping inches from my nose. It didn't hurt when I stood up, so I nuzzled his face and gave the human a kiss. Hey, I was full of tricks. Kids loved me. And it got me an entire apple, heh, heh! He left me to my breakfast and I listened to his footfalls. Possibly, he was visiting that other horse, a slick-looking chestnut with a black forelock, if I recalled correctly. I'd only had a peek at him. I was just enjoying a good chew of the green stuff, when a cheerful human greeted me and a hand appeared, flipped the metal bar up and to the side-I watched how the locking mechanism worked-and my stall door swung open. By his perfumey scent, I guessed this was the groom and it was bath time. I was so right! And it was private. There is nothing like a full body massage, fingers working out the knots, brushes scratching those hard to get to itches. The hair, on the other hand, was a whole new hell. He started by running a dose of tangle-remover through my mane with his fingers. This made the hairs slicker, thereby allowing him to undo the tangles by hand. No nasty scissors. It took forever and used up gallons of that smelly, slippery gunk, but I had nothing else to do. The groomer groaned and complained with he got to my tail. I was real proud of my tail. At its best mine was the longest, fullest tail ever. Got flies? Not with my tail! When he'd finished, the groom led me out of the barn into a dry, gravelly fenced in yard that my stall opened into. The out-of-doors at last! Hot sun soaked into my back. The dry wind carried the smell of green grass and unidentifiable wild things. I closed my eyes, imaging the familiar city sounds and smells, but they were really far, far away, and, instead, I heard the pounding of wood and grating of metal I associated with humans I couldn't see. Stallion smell wafted my way. My eyes flew open, and Howard was there, standing on a ladder pounding hunks of wood over one of the stalls, not the one I'd come from. In the arena, also watching Howard, was the brown stallion. Talk about hot! I was a softy for a dark tail and mane, too. He just oozed alpha male hormones and confidence. A breeze caught my loose hair and blew it dry. It blew it everywhere and felt fabulous. I looked fabulous, and the other horse was staring at me. Howard was joined by Professor G, a peculiar looking man with a bad haircut and a carroty nose-not edible. They both lavished me with praise, a little smothering, but I wasn't above showing off my "kiss" trick to get more. Another human, odder than either of the others ,and who they called Doctor J, led the handsome stallion over to meet me. Introductions went fine. His name was Heero and mine, I was reminded, was Duo. Max, Duo- it hardly mattered what humans wanted to call me as long as they stuck to one name. "You smell like Cowboy Magic Horse Hair Detangler and Conditioner." That's how Heero greeted me. "Magic Horse-? Ooooooh." I snorted hard enough to blow his forelock out of his eyes. Nice and messy hair. He stomped his foot. "Stop that. I'm number one. You're number two." "Say what, numero uno?" "Look over the doors." "At what?" "Your name. Can't you read?" I was a horse, for cripes sake. "No. I suppose you can." "Yes, I can. Above our names are our numbers. I'm '01' and you are '02'." "Well, I'll say those are the stall numbers, since there's more over the rest of them and I don't see 'ranked' horses in them." My being right annoyed the stallion. He stomped a foot. I stomped back. I wasn't anybody's number two. Jeez. "Now, be friends," I assumed Howard was saying, or some such nonsense I couldn't understand. Offering us treats made perfect sense, which was what he did next. Heero took the offered carrot and I nabbed the apple and a carrot. If Heero wasn't quick enough I'd eat it all. When I did, Professor G laughed. While the two men talked about us, probably, I moved closer to my stable buddy. "Hey." "What do you want? I have no treats hiding over here for you to steal." "Just thinking I could do you a bit of a favor." "How? Hey, you swatted me with your tail!" "Impressive, isn't it? I can clear flies off us both as long as these humans don't get it into their heads to mess with it and braid it up." "It is useful in summer," Heero conceded. "I wouldn't want a tail like that, though, when the mud comes." "Well, you're right about that!" We stood thinking our own thoughts, enjoying the hot sun baking our backs until Howard led us to the stalls again to point out my name over the door and something on the floor. New stall floors! "He has installed LIGHTWEIGHT INTERLOCKING STALL MATS," Heero said, as he actually reading that off of some paper. I'd never know a horse that could read. While he stood there staring, the stable boy dumped piles of fresh straw over the floor for the bedding. "Rubber matting provides traction and cushioning on concrete or asphalt," Heero informed me. I stepped into my new digs, the ones right next door to the "01" stud, and it felt cushy. "Holy cow!" Somehow I had hit the jackpot this time. Cool. And that's where we wiled away the hot afternoon, just a couple of hot studs chillin'. Horse Notes: Thoroughbreds are classified among the "hot-blooded" breeds, which are animals bred for agility and speed and are generally considered spirited and bold. The breed originated from crosses between imported Turkish and Arabian horses and existing English lines and has since been exported around the world as the fastest of all horses. They are also bred for other riding disciplines, such as show jumping, combined training, dressage, polo, and fox hunting. Its temperament is racy and nervous. The breed has a leggy appearance, and may be any color but usually have white markings. Morgan Horses are distinctive, with well-muscled bodies and dense bones, luxurious manes and tails, large eyes, quick intelligence, and kind natures. They're often considered to have a heart of gold, be easy to train, level headed, fun to ride, and have a great work ethic. The Morgan Horse is the first documented American breed; a little horse that can out-run and out-haul most challengers.
|
