shipmaster | (no subject)

[ That smell more than anything makes Miles relax. He's leaning against a stall when Bel enters, his eyes half closed. ]

Better than I thought.

... You look better, actually.

Yeah? I hope so. You might have been right about places, at least.

[ And who had Aral recommended? Fat Ninny? He slowly heads down in that direction. ]

[The heavy roan gelding had only gotten heavier with age and arthritis. He stomps forward eagerly at the sight of Miles, lipping at his jacket hopefully for the sugar cube or rare, delightful apple treat.]

Good lord, that thing is huge...

[ Miles has neither, alas, but he abruptly wishes he did. He ... he remembers this horse. He'd spent so many wonderful hours taking him out, going into the countryside, nearly losing him... The feeling goes through him like electric shock. ]

I wouldn't have anything less. A pony would be too small.

[ He reaches up to gently caress the horse's nose. ]

[Ninny snorts and presses up against the stall door to get closer. The horse ducks his head to nudge Miles gently.]

Of course. No issues behind that at all. [The tone is teasing, but fond. They are still not going too close to the massive beast.]

[ Good. Good. Miles leans his head against Fat Ninny for a moment, just taking in the smell of the old horse. ]

Shh. Help me saddle him up. Or - or get Roic to. I don't know if I remember how.

[ But he's giddy anyway, because feels closer to it than he has in a while. ]

[Bel looks blankly at the tack on the walls, and the saddles, blankets, leads and oils stored on the far wall and back to Miles.

Not the first damn clue here... but Bel DID know that look on Miles' face. It's as close as pure kinetic force can be expressed on a human's features.]

Be right back.

[Roic, waiting dutifully just inside the barn doors had been oh so not quite listening in anyway. The armsman nods to the two of them, fetching down the lead to bring Ninny out to where he could be saddled properly.]

[ Miles, meanwhile, fetches what he does remember. It's more than he was expecting. And with Roic's deadpan prompting, he manages to get Fat Ninny prepared. He carefully settles himself atop the horse's back and grins down at Bel. ]

Join me?

[They warily eye the creature. Placidly, Fat Ninny stares back.]

Pass!

Your loss. Come on, Ninny.

[ He nudges the horse into a nice sedate walk. Which is swiftly going to turn into as tearing a canter as the old horse can manage. ]

[The horse actually doesn't take long. Obedient in general, Ninny perks up at his favorite rider far faster than he does with any of the stablehands minding Piotr's old stock.

The old roan shakes his mane wildly and canters on up the trail.... Passing a heavy old maple that curls heavily down over the trail, where Ivan and Miles tried to set up a slingshot made of the native gumroot (Miles was allergic, they found), over the pass where one summer, gallantly leading Elena, a branch MIles was too short to mind and so routine he no longer saw hit the other girl smack in the face.

By the old well that lead into the underground bunker... now dusted with snow and triple reinforced after they had peeled off the old wood and climbed down to explore... and get lost for nearly two days in...]

[ The horse knows him. He's sure of it. And while people might lie and his family might welcome him regardless of what he actually is ... Fat Ninny couldn't possibly be deceived.

That's the key right there. The thing that make him see the maple, remember that horrific rash he'd gotten. The bunker they'd gotten lost in. He really did live here, didn't he? More than that, he grew up here. So Cordelia and Aral must be his parents. And from here everything finally begins to slot into place. A sort of cascade of its own, not of memory but rather of the structure behind them.

His hands go slack on the reins. As glorious as this breakthrough is, it's giving him a familiar headache. ]

Edited (homophonic) 2016-11-17 03:30 (UTC)

[Ninny slows at that, confusion taking his stride down to a trot... then a leisurely walk, the old horse lifting his head with the unusual slack lead to angle a look back. ]

[ Smart horse. Beloved horse ... Miles' hands are trembling as he turns the animal back towards the stables, hoping Fat Ninny will automatically head back once directed to do so. He should probably call Bel on his wristcomm, but he'd rather not alarm the herm unnecessarily. That was basically a mini-cascade. Of course he feels strange... ]

[If there is nothing else that all of Piotr's horses were trained to do, it was to return to the stables (and food, in Fat Ninny's case). Of course, with the long downhill this way, the gelding picks up a fair trot as he goes.

Back at the stables, both Roic and Bel have braved the outdoors again, despite the chill. A certain natural worry for how much trouble a Vorkosigan can get into in this amount of time unspoken between them.]

[ He very nearly makes it, and most of that is all Fat Ninny's doing. Miles stares ahead and focuses on breathing for most of the return trip. And then, as the horse trots up within sight of the stables, the dam built up behind Miles' eyes bursts abruptly. He slides off Fat Ninny's back nervelessly, his body already starting to convulse. ]

[When Miles finally pushes back out, he'll find himself rolled on his side, the herm and armsman kneeling next to him, one set of hands supporting his airway. Just in the corner of his vision is Fat Ninny placidly chewing a bit of grass he had determinedly uncovered from beneath the snow.]

... lobyte toxin... it happened to a few people on Kharas, actually. Best I can figure it was slow metabolizing. The others were clear in a couple of weeks, but I guess there was still a bit left.

[The bald lie in Bel's voice was made a little more believable by the distracted worry in their tone.]

[ Good horse ... good herm too, though the lie makes Miles crease his forehead lightly. Why is Bel lying? It's just ... Ah. No, he doesn't want Roic to know either, does he. His armsman would tell his parents in an instant, and he'll be trapped. (It's not as horrifying a prospect to consider as it would have been an hour ago, but still unpleasant.)

He groans faintly, eyes fluttering back open. ]

Bel? ... Roic?

Miles... good to have you back. [The hand supporting his head moves, curving along to feel his forehead. Roic cleared his throat, uncomfortably.

"Should I...?"]

Yes, call the physician. Lets get a tox panel just to be sure it's gone completely.

[ Roic frowns faintly, but retreats to do just that. Not out of sight, but mostly out of earshot ...

Miles' forehead is cool and clammy to the touch. Much like the rest of his pallor, which has a familiar gray look to it. ]

Tox panel. [ He croaks out, too soft for Roic to overhear. ] You know ... you know it won't find anything.

[Bel is starting to know it especially well.]

Damn straight they wont. [Bel murmurs back.] ... Dammit I had a feeling you were close... I should have...

[ It's passed off for now, at least. Not that he feels better, but ... the hideous pressure has abated. ]

I'm all right. [ He twitches his toes slightly to confirm that. Nothing broken, though his face is surely going to bruise. ] Fat Ninny brought me most of the way back anyway. Good horse ...

Seems so. [They sigh... Bel will have to ask later what kind of... things constitute a treat for those massive beasts.

In the mean time: Sorry Miles about your dignity problem here, but Bel is scooping you up.]

[ Miles squawks in token protest. But given that his legs feel like jelly right now, maybe that's for the best. He leans against their chest lightly, his voice quiet. ]

Do I look better than the last time at least?