PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was a hot day, the sun beating down on the heads of those outside, while people inside weren't much better off. In the stables of Lord Bariget there was a crowd gathered around the training ring, where one of the stable hands was trying to calm a horse that had got away from it's handlers. It was impressive, to say the least. Finn looked appraisingly at the cream horse that reared in front of her, it's muscles rippling as it struck out with it's lethal front hooves, and kept whispering the soft words that were lost in the frantic horses neighs. They would reach the stallion's ears eventually she knew. She reached up a hand gently, trying to stroke the horses head . It shied out of the reach of her delicate hands, and Finn gently grabbed hold of the halter swinging in front of her. She urged the horse down from its back two legs, and quickly reached up and stroked the horses muzzle with her free hand, whispering again the soft words, almost hypnotic in the rhythm and sound. The stable hands that were gathered around the taming ring murmured amongst themselves, watching her unusual technique for calming the wild-ish horse. They were sitting around on the fence that ringed the training and taming area, a well-used seat for the awestruck audience. She blew softly into the horse's nostrils, to give it her scent, and it calmed, its ears, which had been flattened against its head coming forward slightly as it tried to learn more of the one who was taking control of it.



Finn smiled as the horse became more inquisitive, nudging her, and taking hold of her loose shirt in its lips, tugging gently. She wore typically boyish clothing, loose shirts that sought to hide her figure, and her breasts, or at least diminish the effect she had on the boys she worked with. That day she was wearing a baggy white shirt, one of her friend's, Jalindal's, that she'd borrowed. He was much bigger then her, so in turn the shirt was much too big. It almost hung off her shoulders, revealing her collarbone and throat, and the sheer delicacy of her shoulders. She wore tight, practical, jodhpurs, or breeches like she wore today, blue like the dusk sky. She reached into the pocket of her  breeches , and took out some slivers of apples that she'd hoarded from lunch that day for this very purpose, to the sound of gossiping murmurs from the stable hands. Anyone who thinks that men don't gossip is certainly wrong, she thought, a grin on her face as she offered her gift to the stallion rising far above her. She was short, always had been, her nickname when she was younger had been 'Midget' – and even now it stuck with her, and the horse was particularly large,  almost 19 hands. As it was he towered over any of the handlers in the stables, but she looked even shorter in his company than anyone else.  When he had finished her offering he started to examine her again, inquisitive, and on the look out for some more treats. He didn't receive any, and all his efforts of the seeking were in vain.



She waited until she was perfectly sure he was calm, and then lead him effortlessly from the circle, doing as all the other hands had failed to do. She walked steady, keeping her concentration on the horse she was leading, ignoring the other stable hands perched on the fence, taking no notice of their jeers, tips, congratulations or catcalls. She surreptitiously looked around as she led the horse through the gate of the ring, taking care not to appear too obvious in her searching. She sighed as she kept walking, wishing he had been there to see her triumph. But he hadn't. As always, she thought to herself. She shrugged it off, and went to put away Royal, the stallion. She walked into the stable building, and  over to Royal's stall. She lead him in, before taking off his bridle and saddle carefully, putting a lead halter on him, and tying the rope to the ring, specially put into the wall for that purpose, so the horse couldn't rear and crush their handler. With this done she reached up to the stall wall, and picked up his brush, a coarse one that would get all the burrs from his coat, and started to groom him, taking care to groom him properly, doing justice to his magnificent cream coat.



As she crouched, to get all the mud and tangles from his lower front leg she thought she heard footsteps, thinking that it was merely one of the stable hands, until a hand reached down and lightly brushed her hair off her neck, and then touched her shoulders,

“I heard you did well with Royal...” Finn beamed at the familiar voice, with the peculiar accent, and stood, turning quickly, grinning as she saw the young man who stood there, and recognised him. The distinct scruffiness of dress and hair couldn't possibly belong to anyone else she thought to herself, laughing at the thought as she tightly hugged the young man who stood behind her, his blond hair wind-tousled and a boyish expression on his face. The earnest blue eyes that peeked from beneath his unruly hair spoke volumes of greeting that he hadn't needed to speak. She laughingly buried her head into his jerkin, playfully.

“And I heard that you weren't there to see it...” Her tone was light, but with a slight reprimanding tone. She pulled away, grinning, and looking up at him, examining him. He's changed, she thought for a second, astonished. But then it had been a year, and the brash youth who'd left here had been just that. A youth. Now he was... older, she decided. Decidedly older.



His hair was different, she decided, he'd cut it, so now it was short, and fell forward into his eyes a lot of the time. He brushed it back as she thought it, and she smiled, at the proof of her thought. His eyes were still the same, deep blue, the pools that seemed to contain his soul. She'd always loved his eyes, described them poetically. He had one way to describe his eyes. Blue. He was more muscled, his shoulders were wider, and, damn him, he was taller. He was looking down at her now, from his great height. She bit her lower lip as she realised that he must be at least six feet tall by now. But, all in all, he'd changed for the better. His complexion was clear now, which was a surprise. She smiled up at him as she concluded her scrutiny, all of which had taken a mere split second.



He blushed slightly under her scrutiny, and shrugged,

“No, I wasn't there...”

“And why not?” She laughed slightly, rolling her eyes, “Is M'Lord keeping you so busy you can't even come and see your oldest friend?” She raised an eyebrow slightly, in a familiar expression that made them both laugh. He shook his head, speaking haltingly through his chuckles until they stilled.

“I wasn't sure I wanted to come and see you do such a good job with Royal that you'd put me out of a job...” He beamed, “But as it is, I'm not so sure it was such a good idea...”

“Jalindal...” She rolled her eyes again, before laughingly hitting him gently on the side of his arm, “I'll be taking your job soon enough anyway... you could at least have the decency to come and watch your demise!” She grinned, her expression cheeky, in the way of a younger sister, although they weren't siblings, merely close friends. Jalindal shrugged,

“Well, I'll know for next time, wont I?” Finn made no comment. He looked a little inquisitively at her, examining her. He laughed, “Is that m' shirt?” She laughed, and turned to Royal, stilling his soft whickerings, and putting the comb back on the wall, before turning to Jalindal, pushing him lightly out of Royal's stall, and shutting it behind her. Jalindal grinned, and enveloped her in a bear-hug.

“I've missed you Midget!” She scowled, and squirmed out of his grasp,

“I missed you too Jalindal, but that doesn't give me the excuse to call you embaressing names and mess up your clothes and hair!” She sounded annoyed, and at her tone Jalindal raised an eyebrow, before reaching out and grabbing her again, hefting her into his arms with one hand, the other messing up her short red hair with vigorous scrubbing movements of his free hand, at which she started to shriek and writhe in his arms, trying to get loose.

“Let me go you great overgrown oaf!!” She shrieked, laughing at the same time, all their play fights were in jest.



Jalindal suddenly let go of her, putting her down gently, and bowing towards the figure silhouetted in the light streaming in from the open door to the stables. Finn looked, and saw who it was, before blushing, and sweeping a small, but graceful curtsey. She looked up, just as Richard inclined his head slightly, his behaviour unimpeachable, as 'always', and impeccably groomed, his blond hair neatly combed, the long strands tied back in a ponytail with a bow, one of the same blue of his eyes, gleaming in satin. He was, there was not doubt about it, a fop. He wore foppish clothing, shirts with a minimum of a full metre of lace trimming, belts with diamond buckles... endless amounts of jewellery... He was their Lord's son, and therefore granted every courtesy their Lord was. He was fawned over though, mostly, because he was handsome, and very... stylish. Both in his appearance, and his mind. He had the latest jokes, he'd been tri lingual from the age of six... he'd been at school for most of his life, unlike the brief, rudimentary education that Finn and Jalindal managed to get along with. Richard looked over his shoulder, checking there was no one there to report his familiar behaviour with them to his father. Then stepped forward, his bright eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Guess what?” His tone was soft, almost conspiratory. Finn laughed,

“What?” She asked, looking at him curiously. Jalindal was also looking at him, wondering what news he bore.

“My father is going hunting for a while. He wants me to go with him!” He grinned again, barely able to contain his excitement. “And you two, as stablehands...” He grinned, looking at them, expecting them to share his ecstatic view-point. They did.

“Oh my God, really?!” Finn hugged him, roughly, laughing. “Fantastic!” She pulled away from him, the grin on her face almost seeming engraved in her features.

Jalindal looked pleased to, although he looked as if he were drifting, thinking deeply of nothing in particular. Suddenly there was a loud bang as the front door of the manor slammed shut, and Richard raised his eyebrows briefly,

“I should go...” He said softly, Finn and Jalindal both nodded silently, and Finn hugged him again, before he resumed his haughty stance, and stalked out of the stables. His father didn't approve of the bond between the three, indeed, he had banned it. So the precautionary measures were necessary. They both watched Richard walk off, until he'd gone.



Then Finn turned to Jalindal, grinning, but saying nothing. She went to the back of the stables, a couple of metres away from him, and continued doing her tasks. She bit her bottom lip, obviously bursting with excitement. Jalindal didn't seem so thrilled, lost deep in thought, although at Finn's words he rolled his eyes slightly at his junior's excitement.



Finn was his junior by three years, not as big a difference now as it had seemed in their youth, although in some ways it was much bigger. Jalindal was twenty-one, a man, and Finn was yet only seventeen summers, still a girl by many peoples' accounts, and beliefs, although she would pass her eighteenth summer soon, in the next few weeks.



He broke his thoughts as he realised that he had been day-dreaming again, and that Midg... Finn, he corrected himself, had been talking to him. Finn looking at him exasperated, as she always did when he... drifted during her talk. He smiled slightly,

“Sorry...” He said, bashfully. She laughed,

“I suppose I'll forgive you...” She laughed again, before pushing past him, “I'm going to go change.” She said, her tone jokingly haughty. He raised an eyebrow, before bowing slightly,

“Your wish Madame.” He stood straight, and laughed, “And then you can come and help decide what to wear... and pack...” He sighed, as did she, and laughingly rolled her eyes.

“Of course, as always...” She laughed again, and made her way out of the stables with a good bye pat to Royal.



He watched her walk out, continuing on his earlier thoughts. She had changed since he had last seen her, a couple of months ago. He tried to think what the difference was, and then suddenly stumbled upon the answer. She was a woman now... He shook his head violently. No, he couldn't think of her in that light, although... His thoughts drifted again, and he was left staring after her, watching the sway of her hips, and the sheen of the sun on her russet hair. She was certainly pretty, with that gorgeous hair, although it was cut too short for his tastes, in an almost boyish cut, although... he smiled slightly, it did suit the little tomboy, he thought to himself with a grin. She had gorgeous green eyes, they shined, showed her bright and vibrant personality, he decided, a grin on his face. He looked around the stables one more time, roughly brushing his blond hair back behind his ear. He would have to cut it soon he remarked to himself. He shrugged it off, and stepped outside, nodding his regards to the passing chambermaids and ladies companions that noticed him, most, for he was well liked. He escaped the attentions of two singularly determined scullerymaids, and moved to his quarters, to start packing, although he was sure Finn would only rip it all out and do it again. He could at least show a semblance of trying he thought to himself, a smirk on his face at the thought.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Several hours and trial packs later Finn carefully placed the last jerkin back in Jalindal's re-packed case, and looked up at him, straightening and brushing her hands together satisfactorily.

“There.” She said, cheerfully, and satisfactorily. She grinned over at him.

“That's how you do it.” She reached for the case, buckled it, and then quickly undid it, and turned all the items of clothing out over his bed. “Now you try.” She raised an innocent eyebrow at his furious and incredulous expression, and then shrugged, grinning. “I'll make you learn how to pack sooner or later.” Her tone was still cheerfully bright, as she stepped aside, to let him have a go, again, at packing his case. She, of course, was already packed. He glared at her again, and then made his way over to the pile of clothes messily dumped on his bed. He moodily started shoving things back in his bag, not taking any care over the clothes. She rolled her eyes slightly, but let it pass. She'd tackle that problem next time. He stuffed the second-to-last item into the bag, and she grinned again. “Ok, one more try and then...” Her next words were cut off as a large cotton shirt was flung into her face, promptly cutting off her words with a strangled cry as she fell backwards at the unexpected weight. She clawed the shirt off her face, to the sight of his face smiling brightly down at her.

“I feel much better now.” He reached down and plucked the shirt from her unresisting fingers, and carefully folded it, before placing it into the case, as though it were a delicate and irreplaceable thing, before turning and sitting heavily on the case as he buckled it up. He smiled brightly at Finn as she got up. “All done.” She merely glared at him, rubbing a sore spot at the base of her spine.

“Idiot” She muttered, as she stormed out of the room, leaving him smiling brightly at her departing back.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Jalindal grimaced slightly as he bit down on something slightly crunchy. Hard. He took a slight breath, and swallowed it whole. Better to not know what it was, he decided. He took another look around the hall, and scowled as he saw Finn chatting amiably to the young smith sitting beside her. She looked up as she laughed at a joke the smith had just made, and caught him looking at her. She locked eyes with him, her own plainly challenging, questioning, one eyebrow raised slightly, for a mere moment, before she turned back to the handsome lad seated at her side.



Jalindal glared at her a moment more, before returning his gaze to his food, picking at it, casually ignoring the chatter of the serving girl at his side. He rolled his eyes slightly, and turned to her, his charming smile back in place on his face.

“So then I said to her...”

He tuned out again, gossip, as always. He looked over at Finn again, noting the entranced expression on her face at the smith's chatter and rolled his eyes, knowing that she wasn't really entertained. Just acting that way. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his Lord stand and leave the table, heading wearily to the outer doors in the dining hall. Finally. He waited the proper minute, before making his leave to the girl next to him, interrupting her half-way through her sentence, not that he noticed, and standing, walking to the door, and then swiftly up the stairs to his rooms. He found a note there, in Richard's hand.



Meet me. Our place.



Abrupt as always, but he knew what he meant. He looked longingly towards his warm bed and crackling fire before making his way to the door, cursing upper-class friends who insisted on keeping you from your bed and the warmth and comfort late at night.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Jalindal cursed loudly and fluently in his native Gaelic as he stepped into yet another puddle. Ankle deep, of course. He shook his foot as he stepped out of the puddle, drops of stagnant water flying everywhere, and kept going, keeping an eye out for puddles. He made his way to the clearing that only he, Finn, and Richard knew of, and looked around, cursing again. No-one was there. He looked around, and down the steep banks that ringed the small space of open ground amidst the forest of green winter trees. He looked down, and saw the pile of dried leaves at the base of the bank at his feet, some two metres down, and considered the merits of him jumping. He was still considering it when a soft female voice whispered,

“Hello.” by his ear. He jumped, and fell forwards, with his usual grace, face first into the pile of leaves, with a satisfying crunch and small spurt of leaves shooting upwards as he plunged into the pile, disappearing from sight as he made his quick way through the upper layer of the leaves. He clambered his way to the top to see Finn and Richard both laughing themselves witless at him, tears streaming down their cheeks at the look on his face, and his reaction to Finn.



He glared at them, shooting both a withering look that to anyone else would have been like a dagger to their heart. These two took it in their stride. He clambered out, neither gracefully nor delicately, and stood there, brushing the leaf litter and remains from his hair and clothing. Finn slid gracefully from the top of the embankment into the leaves, while Richard jumped out from the ledge, landing neatly next to them, uninjured from his two meter fall.

“Why are we meeting here?” Jalindal asked, one eyebrow cocked. Finn shrugged,

“Because me n' Richard felt bored.” She said cheerfully, a wide smile on her face, not quite a grin.

Jalindal raised an eyebrow,

“That's the only reason?” She nodded,

“Yup.” She grinned, “And we wanted to keep you out of bed. Don't ask us why.” Jalindal dismissed the immediate urge to do so, and instead turned, and climbed semi-gracefully up the embankment.

“In that case...” He started to walk off, as Finn and Richard exchanged helpless glances.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Finn and Richard didn't say anything as they walked back through the night towards the manor again, both lost deep in their own thoughts. Finn grimaced as they walked past Jalindal's quarters, a huge amount of people gathered outside in the courtyard around a huge flickering bonfire, most of them completely inebriated. She glanced over at Richard.

“Doesn't take long to get back in his routine does he?” She asked, sarcastic, her tone sharp, strongly disapproving. Richard merely nodded mutely, as he looked over at the party, before he decided to add in another piece of information.

“It's a welcome back party for him. I heard some of the stable lads discussing it... that's why I thought we should keep him away from there” He shrugged. “Da wont be too pleased if he's too grumpy tomorrow from drinking too much tonight...” Finn nodded, thoughtful to say the least. She sighed as they reached the door to the girl's dorm, and smiled over at Richard. “I'll see you tomorrow morning, when we leave.” She grinned, “Excited?” Richard nodded,

“Very...” They both smiled at each other, Richard's heart catching in his chest at the sight of her smile, and her face lit by the flickering firelight. She nodded slightly to him, and then turned, walking into the door, shutting the door firmly, if not hard, in his face, just as he opened his mouth to say something. She walked along the corridors until she got to her room, opening the door, and then shutting it, leaning back against it as she closed her eyes, lost deep in thought. When she felt that she had cleared her head she stood again, and got ready for bed, sinking deep into sleep when she was within the warm cocoon her bed offered. She fell asleep with a contented smile on her face.