Flash Fiction: Stable Courting
Playing with tropes
Written for ’s Flash Fiction Friday Returns challenge. Check out other entries int he comments there! Everything else I’m working on is fairly grim so I figured I’d try something fun for about a thousand words as a breather.
The air of this gilded, perfumed place seemed to be gilded itself. It pressed on her chest, making breathing harder than it should be.
“So you have made your choice?”
Asteria glanced sideways at Steward Gale. He was tall and dignified man, with iron gray hair and iron gray eyes, coming across as generally made of iron. His scarlet uniform didn’t help, reminding her of the rust stains you’d find on old tack.
She swallowed and looked back at the gowns, all modeled by servant women with her build and eyes near as blue as hers. None had the silver hair she did, though- it wasn’t a common trait even among nobility. Most had her tan, though, a common trait among women who were not noble.
“I…that one.” She gestured to the girl at the end, who wore a sleek cobalt dress with a soft white lace overlay. It was lovely and she’d picked it as soon as the model had walked in.
Steward Gale nodded and clapped his hands. The girls all filed back out the way they came, curtseying to Asteria one by one on the way out of the ballroom. “It will be ready for you in an hour,” the steward told her.
Asteria nodded and brushed her hair behind an ear. She’d have time to swing by the stable and give Aventen a carrot like she’d promised all those hours ago at sunrise. She knew a horse didn’t remember such things, but she did. “Thank you, Steward Gale.”
He looked down at her and the iron became a little more human for a moment. “It will be well, Miss Everodan.”
“Lady Cyllene, soon enough,” she said, then was mortified. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud!
“Oh, not for another year. There is a process.”
There always was. “Steward Gale,” she said quietly, feeling twelve rather than eighteen, “Does Sir Daleon like horses?”
Steward Gale smiled. “I’ve never met the young man. Being a knight. It’s a safe assumption.”
She nodded, supposing the steward would know; he’d been a soldier once. “I need to refresh myself, steward,” she told him, sounding more like herself.
The steward smile didn’t fade and he bowed to her. She gave a casual reflexive curtsey back, then darted out with admittedly unseemly speed, but as Steward Gale occasionally reminded her, he’d been watching over her since before she could walk. Dignity, at this point, was a game they played.
She sighed to herself as she marched to the stables, dodging out of sight of a few of the more tattle-tale household staff. She paused in her march to pull the carrot she had stashed from a vase near the doors to the stables. It was a near thing- the vase was rather tall and she had to reach her entire arm in to grab the vegetable. No one was there, fortunately, so no need to worry about playing the game of dignity.
Clutching the carrot in one hand, she darted out the door and took a deep breath. The stables smelled of horses and horse waste and horse food, a far cry from the ballroom, but the air felt freer. She felt she could finally breathe easily.
Her arrival did not go unnoticed. Equine faces poked out of their stalls, turning toward her with ears pricked forward.
Asteria smiled and made her way over to Aventen’s piebald face. The big gelding snorted and pushed forward eagerly. He smelled the carrot. She didn’t keep him waiting and held it out. Soon there was nothing in her hand by horse drool.
“I told you,” she said to the horse, who sniffed at her in case she had anymore hidden treats. She absently wiped her hand on her pale green skirt. “Thank you that early morning ride, I know before sunrise isn’t usually how you like things.”
A loud whinny grabbed her attention, and she turned to see a very different horse looking at her so intensely she expected it to try to break out of its stall.
“What are you?” she asked, drifting over to it a few steps.
The horse wasn’t as tall as Aventen, but it wasn’t small. At first glance, its coat was black, but when the light hit it, it had a purple sheen. Its eyes were a solid deep dark violet, too. It held her gaze, still as a statue except for swiveling one ear to listen to something outside.
“What are you doing?” a male voice demanded. Asteria shook herself and looked to see a tall young man approaching. His riding leathers were dusty and worn with travel and his messy dark hair had hay in them. “I suggest you leave Farlas be. He’s no lady’s little palfrey.”
His tone made Asteria bristle. “I should think not, with eyes like that!”
Eyes the same shade as this young man’s irises. That observation nearly knocked the rage right out of her, but the roll of those strange eyes summoned it back. “Yes, yes. Go inside, milady, not even the hoyden daughters of Everodan should try to pet that destrier.”
Asteria narrowed her eyes, but before she could speak, the stablemate came rushing around the corner. “Ah, Sir Daelon, I wanted to thank you for helping with the hay shipment, really it wasn’t necessary, the boys had it well in hand…hello Miss Asteria.” Aventen stuck his nose into the big man’s ear and he chuckled. “Spoiling this lucky old draft horse again, I see. Don’t think I didn’t see his saddle had been moved. You may want to tie up that dirty bit of your skirt ‘til you can change.”
Asteria and Sir Daelon looked at each other, both frozen.
Asteria found the will somewhere to give the irritating knight- her betrothed- a curtsey and rushed back inside, desperately hoping that she didn’t squeak out loud like she in her mind.
A/N: every name here except Gale is pulled from planet names in the Mass Effect series, because it’s easier than a randomizer.