Healing (First Ride)

It had been nearly two months since the hunt, and though Mikhail’s leg still pained him rather often, his shoulder was healed and the doctor had judged the fracture stable enough for light riding in the arena. With a warning that the riding should be very light, he left the estate after extracting several solemn sworn statements of caution from Hela’s rider.

When Mikhail opened the door that morning, Hela sensed the shift in his demeanor and eagerly pranced in her stall as his footsteps approached. There was a new rhythm to his shuffling gait, though careful it was determined. It certainly wasn’t the pace of a man only feeding or grooming her. It was the pace of a man going to ride.

Hela lifted her head over the stall door, her ears pricked so sharply they nearly touched. Niklaus also appeared, laughing under his breath as he moved past with a bale of hay.

“You heard him already? You’re obsessed.”

It is perfectly acceptable to be excited, she turned a baleful eye on her stable boy and snorted, stomping for good measure.

Mikhail stepped into view and grinned as he noticed her body language. “Good morning, love,” he greeted her softly, his voice warm against the chill of the wind blowing through the stable. “Eager, are you?”

She pushed her muzzle hard against his chest, the good shoulder, and he grunted with a chuckle. “I missed you too.”

She loved the smell of him. Cold air, wool, and a hint of spice like the bourbon that he often wandered through the stable drinking at night. Mikhail stroked her forehead with gentle fingers, then stepped back to unfasten the door.

“Nothing foolish today,” he warned. “No cantering, jumping, and definitely no theatrics. My leg is healed for gentle walking only, the doctor says.”

Hela blinked at him slowly and chuffed her disappointment. You’re talking too much for someone who hasn’t ridden in weeks. I’ll take perfectly good care of you. Get on with it.

He laughed, seeming to read her mind as he led her to the cross-ties.

“Let’s get you ready.”

***

The grooming was deliberate; Mikhail worked with his good arm more than the newly healed shoulder, but sometimes switched when he wanted to be soft. Niklaus lingered nearby, hovering as if he expected Mikhail to collapse at any moment. Not that the slim boy could do anything to stop it.

The stable boy did fetch her royal purple tack and saddled Hela, though Mikhail insisted on bridling her. Once she was ready, Mikhail led her to the mounting block. 

“All right, we’ll take this slowly.”

Hela braced herself, holding perfectly still, more still than she ever had before. He placed his good foot in the stirrup, inhaled a breath in preparation, and swung his injured leg over carefully. His weight settled easily and he exhaled in relief.

“No pain, yet,” he said cheerfully. “It feels good to be up here again.” He rested his hand briefly against her neck and Hela shifted her shoulders slightly with satisfied excitement.

Mikhail started her with a very slow walk along the inner track of the arena. The freshly raked sand spread out satisfyingly beneath her hooves in a quiet whisper. The saddle squeaked as Mikhail adjusted himself slightly, but his posture was confident. Every few minutes, he tested his leg with small aids, tightening his calf as if to nudge her to a trot, though Hela knew better than to increase her speed until he verbally encouraged her.

“You’re being very good,” he praised her after several laps.

Don’t get used to it, she grumbled. Just this once.

When he attempted to nudge her to a trot, she stopped and nipped at the boot on his good foot, looking up at him reproachfully.

He laughed uproariously for several minutes. “You’re treating me like I’m a prized porcelain teacup,” he accused.

You are. Weak little limbs, she flicked an ear back before starting to walk again. Mikhail tired quickly, still not used to doing much, since he had been on bed-rest for so long. Soon, he motioned for Niklaus to bring over a mounting block, which he used to carefully dismount.

He placed a hand on her neck fondly as they walked back into the stable.

“I heard about Dmitri’s son, Alek,”  he said softly. “Thank you for finding him. They found the fence and fixed the post, but I’m sure you’ll get out again. Just don’t lose yourself in those woods, love. They can get dark fast, and I don’t want the wolves taking you down.”

Hela puffed her chest with the praise, and nudged him with her nose at the warning.

I will. I have a guide, anyway.

“Plenty enough for me for today, I don’t want to push my luck,” he said. “I’ll come by tomorrow, but we’ll ride again soon.” Hela angled her body into him as he stumbled and grabbed her mane to stay upright. 

“Yes, I’d say that’s quite enough,” he chuckled, a grimace passing over his face. “See you tomorrow, love.”

Mikhail let Niklaus lead her away and hobbled slightly as he left the stable for the house and Hela huffed a goodbye after him, her breath ruffling Niklaus’s hair.