Lord of the Rings Fanatics Plaza

Rolling green hills, dotted with a mix of old and new trees spreads out in the Eastfold. Here in this part of Rohan, the many rivers and streams and southern surrounding mountains yield a cooler climate than Edoras and the Westfold. The region was specifically picked as the main homestead for Lealnemarr, known in the region as Leal Hraedhof, an elf shield-maiden, now sworn to Rohan.

In a large grove of ancient, gnarled trees, sits a large beautifully crafted stone and wood barn. As you walk towards the structure, you notice how meticulously built it is—there are areas sections cut and cross hatched with natural fibers out to maximize airflow and allow in natural light without the use of much glass. Large wooden side doors are propped open, letting in the fresh breeze through the wide neat aisle. Hewn stalls, some stand open, others with curious occupants looking out over small half doors, stand on either end. The smells of fresh hay, leather and beast linger in the air, along with the entrance of whatever the breeze seems to bring. One brown tabby cat hunts along the stallway, looking for prey while another stable cat (black as night) dozes lazily in a patch of sun. There is a tack room off to the left of the main breezeway, along with a room that seems to hold additional training supplies. And to the right, the small feeding rooms that hold the grain, treats, linaments, etc needed for the horses. Hay and straw, you find later, is kept in a smaller building off-site, to help minimize the risk of fire.

The back of the barn opens to several fenced paddocks for grazing. One holds two horses, currently grazing lazily under the shade of some oaks. There is also several training pens and arenas. And, unless your eyes deceive you, several miles of well-traveled trails seem to snake off into the distance—through fields, through the trees, towards the mountains.

In one of the rounded pens, stands a tall, dark chestnut-haired elf, clad in dusty riding attire. She is currently clucking gently and murmuring to a young blood bay colt trotting around her….

Rules:
1.) Keep it horse-themed for accuracy (we do have NPC farm animals, yet to be named, who will wander in, but mostly horses please).
2.) Normal Plaza rules: PG rated, No Spam, No OOME talk (to a point, since there is overlap with horse talk), no killing off of people or general awful behavior
3.) More rules can be added depending on people’s general comportment.

The colt drops his head as he lengthens his stride, his mouth seeming to open and close.

"There you go, Runja, that is all you need--- settle in, love...."

Leal smiled as the colt's ears flicked back and forth listening to her words. He was full of fiery spirit, much like his sire. But, he was so unlike his dam, who was attentive and eager to please. It had been almost two hours to finally get the colt to settle in to actually get some work. He was going to be a handful, but luckily, Leal had patience and decades of training.

After some time of working on strides and transitions, Leal finally asked the colt to halt. Runja, snorted and tossed his head, his ears flicking forward and back.

"That is enough work for today, my friend-- let's go let you out to play and see if that will settle your energy."

Leal tied the rope halter around Runja's head and lead him out of the pen. She was patient with him as he called excitedly to a group of youngsters nearby in a field. Though, she did make him wait until he calmed in order to be let through the gate to the pasture. After one final pat, she remove dhis halter and the colt sped off with a flick of his tail and a whinny of delight as his friend came cantering up to meet him. Leal watched happily, her green eyes watching the horses as they played their yearling games. Several minutes later, she stretched and decided she would meander into the barn.

"I should really think about hiring some extra help around here," she said to the tabby stable cat lazing around her ankles, "Not that you aren't helpful, Olly, but ever since old Grim retired last year (or was it two year ago?), it's been just me. And I think we are going to have a busy breeding season...." Olly mewed his reply and followed Leal into the barn

Siolfor

This wasn't Siolfor's first rodeo, he was no stranger to mischief, often being called a rascal. No horse knew more about being up to no good or so he liked to believe as he hadn't seen any evidence to prove him wrong. He and his travel companion Rior had arrived to Rohan earlier that day and his patience had finally been rewarded. Freedom at last! He was never mean or tried to hurt anyone on purpose, animals or otherwise and playing hide and seek with Rior wouldn't harm anyone as far as he could see.

Siolfor just wanted to have some fun. But where would be a good place to hide? Not wanting to be found too soon the black stallion stopped for a moment to look around and tried to decide which direction to go when his eyes were drawn to a large building (the barn) and he felt at once the need to inspect it to learn what was inside. Hopefully there was food in there. Maybe there was something yummier than grass inside the building over there, like carrots or apples, or even a sugar cube or two. With that in mind he hurried over to the building, stopping outside to peek inside.

There was only one person inside and it didn't matter that he didn't know who she was, maybe pranking her would be fun anyway. If horses could smirk to themselves, Siolfor would have done that now. Proceeding gently, walking as slowly and quietly as a 16hh stallion without a saddle on his back could and he did his best to sneak up on the woman (Leal) in the barn. Close enough to her to touch her he gently nudged her shoulder with his nose and waited for her reaction. Hopefully she would be nice enough to give him a carrot, an apple or maybe one of each if he could convince her.

"Oh, hello, friend!"

The elf was surprised to see the handsome and mischievous black flaxon stallion (Siolfor) reaching out to nudge her shoulder. Leal chuckled and quietly exclaimed, "Where did you come from, you silly thing?" Seeing the stallions eager face, Leal was happy to oblige in a pat.

"Are you just desperate for a treat?" She asked slightly sarcastically, grinning at the way eager nicker that followed. "I am sure your companion would not mind..." Leal whistled and beckoned Siolfor towards one of the treat stashes in the tack room. The stallion was in for a delight-- Leal had made a new batch of treats recently. Small oat, apple, carrot and molasses cookies were contained in an airtight stone jar just out reach of nibbling horses. The elf took two of the two inch round treats and winked, offering them one at time to the handsome horse.

"Hopefully you will not mind my homemade treats-- or are they too awful to eat...?"

It had taken Thalionwen some time to find a stable she thought might be suitable for her faithful dun pony, Hild. Not that Hild was fussy--the even-tempered creature didn't have a particular bone in her body, but when came to Hild, Thali was fussy. Not just anything was good enough for a beast that had served her as well as Hild had over the years. In truth, the pony was more than a beloved mount or a useful pack animal. She was family.

But Månsken ängar had come highly recommended. In fact, no one had an unkind word to say about the place, or its proprietress. And Thalionwen was curious too, to meet an elf who'd chosen to make her home in the Riddermark. She walked through the idyllic grove and paused just before the stable, bending low to chirrup at a midnight-black cat basking in the sunshine. But in the way of cats the creature ignored her, and Thalionwen carried on through the welcoming open doors of the stable.

At the end of the stable's central aisle, a breathtaking elven maid (Leal) stood, offering something to an equally striking black stallion (Siolfor). Unsure whether she should greet the woman in one of the elven tongues or in her own, Thalionwen fell back on the familiar.

"Westu hal," she said, keeping her voice even and soft so as not to frighten the fiery-looking stallion. "I was wondering if you're open to new boarders at present?"

As if to demonstrate her suitability as a candidate, Hild reached out and began to lip gently at Thalionwen's long golden braid.

The consistent tug on his mane brought the Andalusian Stallion to a halt. His right hoof dug into the ground in a show of annoyance before he plomped his buttock right onto the dirt. With a dismissing sound, he shook his face and snorted loudly as a waft of dirt rose and settled around him. “Brute! Get your massive behind up and march your flank towards that stable before I promptly place my foot where the sun does not shine!” His companion Lilath growled, placing her weird hoofs (hands) on her flank (hips) and glared at him.

Brute nickered, his dark eyes rolling upwards as he tried to decide his next course of action. Of course his companion was planning on sticking him in the stables but he refused. She needed him and he refused to be stuck here with nothing to do. His kind was..annoying. He saw no purpose in the mingling she proposed nor the fact he might make ‘friends’.

As his companion turned swiftly, frustrated obviously and headed up to the stables, Brute watched her departure with a mixture of denial and abandonment. His long lashes twitched in annoyance and he let out another snort, his front right hoof stamped further into the dirt beneath him. With a click, he wiggled his rump further to solidify his determination of not moving and promptly turned his neck away from her and the stables. She will give up and return to him and they can be on their way.

Lilath wandered up to the stable doors, peeking her head inside to see if anyone was available to discuss the prospect of holding her horse for a few days while she was in rohan doing business. She noticed a few people, a fellow elleth who was in charge and she cleared her throat. "Uhmm..sorry for the interruption but does anyone have any sweets or an apple to coax a very stubborn horse from the middle of the road?" She pushed open the door slight to reveal the stubborn black stallion who had his buttocks firmly planted on the ground and refusing to look in their general direction. "..his name is Brutus.."

"Well met, Lealnemarr," Thalionwen said with a smile. "I'm Thali, and this is Hild. She'd love a place in your pastures--unless the weather's especially bad, she's used being kept out. We haven't much room at home, you see--it's not the most expansive of farms. But Hild is a good soul, and should be a help with the other horses. She's gentle enough with people, but won't let anything on four hooves boss her about or step out of line."

She cast a laughing glance at Hild, who was already eyeing Siolfor, the mischievous black stallion, with a combination of disdain and suspicion.

"If you're offering a tour, I'd love one!" Thalionwen went on. "Truly I've never seen a more beautiful or impressive stable. Have you been here long?"

After the hectic buzz of the dragon-room, Allacan entered the calm of the stables and paused on the threshold, taking a deep breath to enjoy the familiar scents of horse, straw and manure. Ever since her beloved Beaducrym had passed only a few short month's ago she had been in need of a new horse companion, but now more than ever after re-enlisting with the cavalry she needed to find a mount suitable for whatever her duties might throw at her, battle-ready and hopefully as eager to please as she was.

She made her way between the stalls, offering a hand or chunk of carrot cautiously to any of the residents curious for a sniff, searching out the face of whoever was running this establishment, interrupting two women talking; the first a familiar face she had spotted earlier in the Dragon Room, the second a tall elven lady with dark hair who turned at her approach. She grinned in recognition as she saw who this individual was. "Leal, freond min, my word is it good to see you again!" she says with a warm smile, offering a hug with a bit more composure than her ridiculous excitement of earlier in the day. "Apologies for interrupting, Thalionwen isn't it? Of the Eastemnet?" she offers her hand to shake. "Hopefully you ladies can help me out. I am finding myself in a sorry state, a Rider without a horse, and I was rather hoping I might be able to find someone who could sell me a suitable steed for the cavalry? I don't suppose this is the place?" she queried.

OOC (I realised today that buying horses would probably fit better in Se Riddermarket, but that would have me RPing with Shivased in yet another thread and I'd rather spend a bit of time with everyone I can and avoid just RPing with the same person. Hopefully you will humour a rusty player and find me some old warhorse who's prior owner retired/fell in battle/lamented of its terrible temper and gave up, lol)

They stood motionless for a time, not due to any need for rest, for they hadn’t rode hard from Edoras, there had been no cause for hurry. Ber still wasn’t sure she wanted to go through with her plan. But it was a kindness, perhaps, if the place was as excellent as she had been assured. And it hadn’t been hard to find, the directions were well given.

“It was true, then,” she observed aloud, upon spying the unmistakable grace of the woman. “An Elf in Rohan.” It wasn’t really all that surprising, many of the Elven-folk were accomplished riders. And they were often as fearless as the Riders in battle, Ber had remembered well. She wondered what had drawn her from her own people, what her story was. She quietly hoped there might be opportunity to hear it some day. But she would not pry. Not until she could become more acquainted with the woman, if the fates allowed.

She knew her horseflesh, Ber granted her that. The site was a good choice for the stables. And the few she could observe from afar seemed contented.

Dismounting, she led the gelding towards the impressive stone barn, talking to him as the went. Her back to him, she sighed a little and finally kept her promise. “Akelda,” she said simply. “She will ask your name, and since it was never told me, you are now Akelda.” Ber skewed her lip to the left, muttering, “as I feared. You may be a bit homely, but you’ve served me well these past years. I swore I wouldn’t allow myself to get attached.”

But she had, of course.

The dark haired Elf was already quite busy, several already garnering her attentions. So they would wait. There was nothing that yet demanded Ber’s time. They wandered slowly along the fence line, a slight smile at the exuberance of the younger horses. She then settled herself beneath the arching canopy of a well aged tree, the newly named Akelda chomping tender grass near her. Ber caught site of the well healed deep scars on his underbelly, quickly flicking her eyes away. It was why she had haggled for him with the questionable dealers, paying double what he was worth. She still hated seeing them.

At first the words addressed to her had melded into the stream of her waking reverie, the frown that she turned towards the speaker not meant to be aimed at her, softening into a questioning examination and delve into her memory as she looked into the weary face before her. Slowly she smiled, and she rolled the lyrical name off her tongue,

“Lailindeiel. Yes, I may not have been able to remember your name rightly without your help, but I do remember so, so well the lovely Elven-tailored dress you wore that eve of long ago. It seemed as if infused by their peculiar magic.”

She should have risen respectfully, but instead patted the ground near her invitingly. “Come, sit, Lail, if you’ve time? I believe we may have a bit of a wait, the stablemaster seems to have much demand on her at the moment.”

Settling back again, she dug for a small pouch and shook out several small strips of dried meat, offering them up to Lailindeiel. Cautiously she asked without meaning to insult or pry, “You seem a little ragged for the wear, though I suspect you are not alone in this. Many seem to be returning from ... elsewhere. And our horses don’t have seemed to fare much better than their Riders.” She winced again at hers, hoping they would be able to stable him here for his the length of whatever days remained to him.

She winked at Lailindeiel, “Remind me, did you win one of the better prizes at the Mettare games? Not all were well accepted, I think.”

It seemed that her timing had been unlucky, for no sooner had she approached the stablemaster Leal that it seemed the stable-mistress' attention was caught away giving her newest boarder Thalionwen a tour. Allacan did not mind; she knew well enough the hectic life of the stables would often wait for no-one and she turned instead to the nearest horse; a piebald chewing lazily at half a mouthful of feed. "No rest for the wicked" she said to it with a wink.

A flash of movement caught her eye, and she turned to see a black stallion with a gorgeous cream mane and tail (Siolfor) pass by one end of the stables and out of sight. Noting his lack of rider and tack, and recalling with a grimace the mischief her own late mount had once gotten up to after escaping the stables (and the severe tongue-lashing she had received from the Queen afterwards) she headed to follow him. When she reached the doorway she had seen the stallion at it was no longer in sight, nor could she hear the fall of hooves indicating where it had gone.

She could however see two women (Lailyn and Bereth) resting beneath the shade of a large tree close to two horses she presumed were theirs; one woman looked like she had been fresh from the trail and exhausted and the horse nearby looked equally tired which suggested it was hers. It didn't appear that either of them were missing their horses or aware of the loose black stallion. She was about to turn back to searching for the runaway horse when she caught sight of the chestnut mare (Simbelfarendeu) shifting her feet awkwardly, and Allacan's experienced eye was caught by the movement. She watched a few moments, noting how she eagerly sucked at the water trough and how she guarded her leg. Additionally, now that she looked closer a second time at the other horse, while it appeared to be well fed and well brushed she thought she could see old scars across its stomach that could be old war-wounds or, she thought with growing concern, signs of neglect and abuse.

The two women were conversing together, attentive to each other, and fortunately for them Allacan did not recognise either of them in that moment. If they had been anyone known to her she would not have hesitated one moment in marching over to them and dressing down the weary woman for not dutifully seeing to her injured horse before resting herself. If there was one thing Allacan had always insisted with the riders in her Eored it was that - no matter how tired they were - it was their duty to see that their horses were tended to properly before they rested. It was perfectly fine to hand them on to someone else, especially during a campaign or after a long journey, or in the event of an injury. But unless you were at death's door or incapable of getting help, Bema help anyone who was found neglecting their horse's welfare on her watch.
Too many excellent horses had been lost or retired early through the neglect of tired sperewigends, and remembering with a pang the recent loss of her own beloved mount of ten plus years it irked her perhaps unreasonably so in this moment.

She bit her tongue and placed a neutral expression on her face. Glad she was now wearing simple green homespun shift and overlarge trousers bunched together at the belt rather than her full cavalry regalia, she decided it was perhaps best to reserve judgment for now in preference to easing the horse's pain. She could not in good conscience turn away from the mare knowing now she appeared injured and required tending. The loose stallion might be a problem in the making, but this issue required immediate attention.

She walked across to where the two women Lailyn and Bereth and, uncaring of whether she was interrupting something private, commented with careful neutrality. "Milady, ma'am, permission please to see that your horse is stabled, brushed and her limp seen to?" with a gesture at Simbelfarendeu. It was barely a question, and although her words were respectfully enough to suggest she might be a simple stable-hand or assistant, she did not offer a smile or bow in any deference. She did, however, have the good wisdom to await permission to approach the horse; that much respect and patience she was able to offer for now.

Ber hungrily eyed the offered honeycake, her praise of it genuine as she swallowed down an unladylike portion, savoring the tang of sweetness. “Tis not a fair trade for the meat. I’d ask your recipe, but rather doubt I could replicate it!”

She she kept a steady gaze at Lail as she watched her search for the words to convey the pain that seasoned her speech, growing solemn as she nodded. Sorrow was as much a part of the Mark as the grass beneath them. “It seems many have returned from travels of late. It’s a pity your mare met with such a fate.” Glancing up briefly at the newly named gelding, “this seems a fitting place for them to heal, by my judgement.”

Ber smiled again at the mention of Mettare, remembering clearly the gown Lail wore, but bumping up into the now all too familiar gaps in her memory when trying to remember the gifts given. She nodded more slowly this time, battling back the distraction of shadows, “Aye, home is indeed a treasure of the souls we love, the friendships we cherish, more than the lands and the buildings too easily lost.”

She wasn’t immediately certain how to answer the simple question Lail put to her. She often fingered the strips of thin leather that were wound about both wrists, studded with blue beads of varying shades, meant to be a decoration - but did not do so now. No, she would rather hear the other’s story, and simply offered, “I’m afraid I don’t remember much. My memory has become a traitorous net for me, a sieve that has let an awful lot slip through.”

Lifting up a bit of the honeycake she hadn’t yet devoured, as if to toast, she smiled encouragingly, “here’s to anchoring and peace and - home. Ah, and where might that be for you?”

Her smile evaporated at the abrupt interruption addressed to them both, but seemingly more pointedly at Lail. Ber cocked one brow upwards as she examined the woman, rapidly assessing that this one knew discipline, something that had grown lax in her own character, and she rose almost automatically, though could not seem to find her tongue. She merely stood, swaying ever so slightly from her own weariness, though her hunger had been sated by the small meal shared. She couldn’t hold back the amused smile that crept across her lips as she unintentionally mused aloud, “Lord Remy would have liked this one.”

Allacan felt some of her anger dampen as the first lady (Bereth) stood and then swayed wearily; now she was closer she could clearly see the weariness writ across both their faces. She instinctively took half a step forward as though readying to catch the lady if she fainted, and was relieved to see her companion Lailyn put an arm around her to steady her, and wondered if perhaps they were also defensively uniting against this cheeky intrusion. They looked like a hearty wind would knock them both over.

Her ears barely caught the quiet reference to Lord Remy from Bereth and her stomach sank a moment while she tried carefully to keep a straight face; what if they were nobles, or important people of repute? Such individuals would surely assume the stable hands would come to their service and in such a case it might be deemed remiss of the hand-staff for neglecting them (horse and lady alike) above remiss of rider in neglecting their horse. She quickly replayed her own words in her head and was relieved that she had not said anything too disrespectful or inflammatory.

Both her fresh concerns and her earlier anger were cooled a little by Lailyn’s next words. She raised an eyebrow and responded “Oh I think I’ll take it as a compliment today, although personally I’d prefer a comparison to Marshal Malorn or Eledwyn Isenfolme; I at least served with them so I’d appreciate the meaning more.” She offering an apologetic smile to Bereth to take some of the edge out of her words.

At Lailyn’s comment that the last few -days- has been difficult for the mare she raised her eyebrows in surprise and glanced back to look at the horse again in concern, as though re-evaluating the creature, then at the other horse to gauge its status. She was glad to be looking away when the name “Lady Bereth” was uttered, it masked the flash of horror that crossed her face as her fears were realised; not only titles but also a legend in the Mark! Ah well; she’d dived in head-first now, may as well go the whole way and see what happens.

Face once again neutral, she turned her attention back to Lailyn. Fuelled a little by the comparison to Remy, or perhaps deciding that behaving in the manner of her old heroes might not be so bad after all, she fixed the woman her very best Isenholme-impression stern look. She suspected it wouldn’t quite have the same impact given Allacan lacked the impressive scar across one eye, but it at least helped douse the last of her anger.

“If you were injured, and in pain, and had crossed many miles to your destination hopeful for relief and rest at its arrival, but were sadly through circumstance unable to communicate your discomfort through speech, you would be wholly reliant on others to aid you when you needed it. How do you think it would feel to have those people sit and sup and ease their weary muscles while you must stand and wait, sore and tired, still bridled and saddled and without any ease for your injury? It would take only a moment or two for you to call for the stablehands; they are here to help for this very purpose. I hope next time you will remember that, for your horse’s sake.”

She softened at Lailyn’s worry and concern for her horse, and gave a gentle smile to show it. “The good Lady Bereth’s horse does not appear in distress and can wait a little longer to be untacked and stabled without any lasting harm, if you don’t mind ma’am?” she queried Bereth, this time with a small respectful nod. “You’re own horse, however, needs seeing to immediately if we want to be certain a small injury does not become permanent.”

She took Lailyn’s invitation to help as permission to approach the mare, and approached the strange horse confidently but warily as one who is no stranger to being kicked or bitten. She carefully ran her hands over the mare’s back and down her legs, pursing her lips when the horse twitched and pulled away from her touch on the guarded leg. It was hot to the touch, never a good sign, however it seemed to bend naturally which was promising. She began scanning the knees and ankles for signs of scuff marks that might indicate a fall, or the horse collapsing after the injury. Her haeland training had prepared her to fix people, but in that moment she reflected that four legs or two, it was all the same really. “Tell me, when did this happen, and how? Has she travelled in this unburdened manner since it happened? Has she laid down since the incident and if so, on which side and was she able to stand again without aid?” her voice seemed to have softened in her focus and concern for the horse; it had none of its earlier bite or restrained nature, but sounded now more like a healer getting down to business.

Her respect for the passionate and skillful woman grew as she quietly observed her, a pang of guilt making her flinch inwardly at the justified rebuke, which should equally have been aimed at her. She’d not meant to dally unduly, meant to wait patiently for the owner, hadn’t considered there would be others who could have helped.

As @Allafyrefleorhtlig examined @Lailyn‘S Injuries, Ber spoke quietly. “I meant no insult whatsoever. Rather the opposite. My father was he who founded the Cavalry, long ago, and prized those who demonstrated heart and passion for the Mark and all who dwell within. I’ve a hunch he would have seen the promise in each of you.” Her words trailed off as she sensed Allacan was nearing her completion, “From what I’ve heard, the Cavalry has flourished beyond his wildest dreams.”

Sighing, feeling her years more than usual, she wondered again if she should have ventured back home. She gravitated back towards Akelda‘s side, absently stroking the crease of his neck with long, slow motions as she listened to them discuss the mare, then glanced away across the expansive pastures to see if any of the broodstock of the Aern Freablod had ended up stabled here, unsure if could have recognized them anymore.

Allacan nodded at Bereth’s further explanations politely; she knew all too well that this woman was the daughter of the legendary Lord Remy, founder of the cavalry. She had read her history books, and once again cursed that she had not thought to check the identity of these two women before barging in on their conversation, but she also wouldn’t retract her earlier comments when she knew the heart of them was correct. She could, however, amend her tone to take some of the bite out of it.

At Lailyn concern, Allacan found her heart softening even further. “Possibly, but fear not, it doesn’t look too serious. You did well, given all you have done so far - it is never easy when your horse goes lame far from the security of a stable and to have brought her thus far is testament to your care. She sounds like she is already recovering well thanks to your precautions. There’s only minor swelling and a little heat; it might only be a soft tissue injury that hasn’t had enough time to heal, but I want to give the hoof a proper wash and clean out the dirt in the frog to be sure. I can stable her and see her thoroughly brushed down and well tended, and I’ll put a wrapping on any injury to promote recovery. I’d recommend keeping her on stable-rest for a week just to be sure, but she should hopefully recover before then. Please, just remember next time to call for help if your horse needs a hand and you are weary.” She says with a gentle smile, trying to undo some of her earlier abruptness.

She turns then Bereth and notes with approval how she has moved protectively to her own horse’s side. Once again remembering the tales of this legend among Rohir and hoping she can perhaps smooth over the difficult start with both women, she speaks in a softer and more respectful tone. “Mi’lady, ma’am, please accept my apologies for being perhaps a little too abrupt. Truth told I am perhaps a little sensitive on the subject of horse-care at present. My own beloved mount Beaducyrm passed away only a few months ago, and I suspect being in a stables without him is catching at my emotions more than I’d realised. He’d been my companion through many years and saved my life more than once.” She finished quietly.

She offered her hand to them both in greeting. “I am Allacan Beorhtlig of the Eastemnet. If you ladies would allow, I would be grateful for the chance to tend to both your horses for you. It would be good to enjoy some quiet stable time with such fine horses and it would also allow me the time to process my own thoughts. Please, continue your discussion and take the rest you need in assurance I will see to your mounts. If you like, I can bring refreshments for you both when I am done; you both look like you need it!” She finished with a smile, hoping her attempt to lighten the mood would be received gratefully.

OOC (I mostly only know what I’ve read in books myself and what I picked up in two weeks of work experience on a stables while a teen, but it’s amazing how much I remember sometimes. I’m happy to make the injury as trivial or serious as you want; it’s your horse. Allacan has the bite of an Eastmarker, but she isn’t cruel. She’s made her point so she won’t push it, especially not in the presence of the legendary Bereth, lol)

‪Ber made no motion to move away from Akelda’s side while she observed Allacan’s skilled assessment of the troubling injury to [n]Lail’s[/b] mare, finding herself dearly hoping that it wasn’t one that would result in an end of the mare’s years of faithful service. Or worse, her life. ‬

‪She also found herself more closely observing the profile of the stablehand as she continued her explanations, hazarding a hunch that she was perhaps much more than such. At the mention of her name again, she surfaced back to the present and smiled slightly, still not yet moving. ‬

‪“You’ve naught to apologize for, especially in consideration of the loss so recent for you. I’m so sorry.” If you’d ever had a horse, you’ve lost a horse, if you’d had any years under your belt whatsoever. But to say such things when a loss was so fresh, the bond so deep, was no comfort whatsoever. How well she knew. She nodded an acknowledgment of the ache of loss, and continued, picking her words with extra care. ‬

‪“And you are more correct in your chastisement than you may guess, through perhaps not for the reasons you may have meant.” She sighed a little. “It was shame that brought me here. This old fellow is not the quality of the bloodlines I’ve been used to, and nothing like my ... my gelding.” She vowed to not say his name again. To never say it , even to herself. It had hurt more than could ever have guessed to lose him. She hadn’t ridden for many seasons, didn’t think she could ride again. Until she came across the deeply wounded one who needed her as much as she needed someone to care for. ‬

‪Clearing her throat, she straightened up, knowing her honesty wasn’t a pretty thing to admit. “I came to abandon him here, now that he’s fully healed. Someplace safe and peaceful to live out his days. I was not sure if my father saw him, how he would have reacted.” She shrugged one shoulder, turning to stroke his neck again. “But you’ve pricked my conscience. He does not deserve my unjustified judgement, nor prideful fear. And he deserves to share my home as well. With me.” And a name, she added to herself. He deserves a good name, the good one just given to him. ‬

‪She turned then fully towards the extended hand, taking it up gently. “Well met, Allacan.” She then released a self-deprecating laugh, shaking her head. “The trouble with titles is that there are some who expect one to live up to them. And I’m no longer certain that is the case, with the onslaught of years and the infuriating interstices of memory lapses. So please, both of you,” she included Lail in her plea, “just Ber will do.” ‬

‪“But I will take you up on your generous offer, and employ your care for ... for Akelda. After hers, of course. And refreshments later would be a mercy! Perhaps when you take a break yourself?” ‬

‪She then swallowed her hesitancy and offered the reigns, grateful for the chance to sit and rest and perhaps visit with Lail a little longer. ‬

((OOC: Long have I felt like a fraud, having very little firsthand experience with horses, although owned a few and married to someone whom is poetry on a horse - so he’s often my source of knowledge, though we no longer have any, lol. Still not enough to sound competent with those who love and live with them daily! So we are all in good company, I’m thinking ))

Allacan, human, she/her with @Bereth and Lailyn (@Lailorn)

Now that her initial ire had settled and she could see that no serious harm had come to either horse, Allacan was feeling increasingly like a nincompoop. She was grateful that both Bereth and Lail had taken her interruption well, and for their sympathies over Beaducyrm's recent passing, but all the same made a mental note to herself to remember she no longer held any real rank here in Edoras, at least none of significant note, and she needed to be a little more respectful and a little less officious, maybe try and be a little more of a bystander and resist the temptation to get involved in everything.

"I will see that both horses are settled well, fear not. And then I will bring over a plate of refreshments for you, and I will gladly take you up on the offer of a break and company when that is done, Ber, if I have time." She pondered for a moment where exactly she was going to get those from, given she was not actually a staff member here but had only stepped in due to the absence of the stable-mistress, but decided she would cross that bridge when she came to it. Her heart warmed as she heard Bereth's declaration that she would keep the newly named Akelda after all, and bit down a response about not intending to guilt-trip the woman into keeping a horse she did not wish. Less officious, she reminded herself mentally, it is her horse after all. She waited patiently while Lailyn took a moment with her mare, burying the pang of jealousy down deep. The creatures seemed perfectly amenable and calm in each other's company, even the injured Simbelfarendeu, and Allacan was keen to excuse herself before embarrassing herself further, so she took the lead-reigns for the horses, one in each hand, and walked them confidently towards the spare stalls, careful not to rush the pace and keeping half an eye on each creature lest they take umbrage at either the Rohir woman or the other equine.

She led Akelda into a stall and ensured she had removed to bridle and bit from his mouth and that he had access to water and hay (she would untack and brush him down later) so that she could leave him a while and focus her attention on Simbelfarendeu for a while. She firstly unloaded the creature of the weight of saddle and, snatching one of the spare halters that was hanging on the nearby hooks (one that wasn't clearly named) she replaced the bridle so that the mare would be more comfortable but so that Allacan could still take her to control her if need be. She gave her a few handfuls of hay and ensured their was water in the through before stepping out of the stable, careful to close it properly behind her and double checking that she had done the same with Akelda so that she could be sure that neither horse in her care would escape and join the black (Siolfor) she had spotted earlier.

Then she went for an explore. First she sought out the well and, drawing out a bucket of clean water, carried it to the stable waiting room and set it over the hearth, coaxing the kindling into flame a while until she was confident the water would heat while she was busy elsewhere. It did not take her long to find the tack room next, and the stack of brushes, clothes and grooming supplies set out apparently for anyone to use. She armed herself, being sure to pick up two sizes of hoof-pick, in case there was worse-swelling in the frog than she would like, as well as a clean bucket. She found the supply store and, after hesitating only a few moments to look around for an audience in fear someone might spot her and think she was pilfering, she swiftly shifted into the room and searched until she found what she was looking for; some rolls of bandage and a jar of ointment that smelled distinctively of waybroad (plantain) that would be perfect for a poultice to draw out any infection. She carried all the supplies to the stable well; she expected she would need more than a few buckets of water and without anyone else on hand to assist it would be easier to do the drawing and washing in one location. Depositing her armload of supplies carefully there, she went to fetch Simbelfarendeu.

The creature had finished her hay and was snoozing, resting her injured foot in favour of her others. Allacan was confident that she would not appreciate being disturbed so took her time coaxing her out of her sleep and encouraging her to walk to the well. "I know honey, you've done so well coming this far and I agree you deserve a rest. Just a few more steps and I will give you a good long brush and a warm wash. Sound nice? I'm sure it does, come along now, its only a little way further." Allacan was fairly confident that the mare would have stiffened up and even a well tempered horse would be grumpy at having their long awaited rest delayed longer than expected, but she needed to give her a thorough wash where the waters would not pool in a stable and potentially cause worse problems. The well, with its nearby drainage ditch, was the best place for it. It was only a short walk, and even in her painful state Simbelfarendeu seemed to sense that she was trying to help, although on at least a couple of occasions she nipped or shoved at Allacan so the woman knew she wasn't completely happy about it. "I know honey, I'm a big meanie, but I promise it is for your own good"

As she reached the well, she settled Simbelfarendeu against a wall she could comfortably lean against to get at least some rest, and set to the task of untacking her and cleaning her off with careful but confident hands. As she worked, Allacan started to hum an old Rohirric lullaby from her childhood, then a little later broke into the lyrics that carried through the otherwise quiet stables so that it sat as a soft background music to Bereth and Lailyn's reunion, where they sat in the garden and spoke as old friends.




(OOC - Apologies to both you ladies that it took me so long to post here. Now that Allacan has politely excused herself for a bit, hopefully this will not stop you both from continuing with your role-play and conversations.)

Ber had to temper her smile at the kind offer from this gentle friend, @Lailorn, to set her father straight, the image in her mind was two pronged, the least of which was a soft prick of longing to have any sort of discourse at all with him just one more time. Sighing, Ber lifted a shoulder and offered, “I’m perhaps very wrong in thinking he would not have warmly accepted him, once he heard his story. As to what happened, I would guess perhaps he was raked by wargs, at some point, although if that were the case, it’s a small miracle he survived as well as he did. We spent many long days in the shallows of cool streams, as there is little that heals more gently and fully than water.”

She trailed off then, tipped her head towards the rhythmic lullaby (well done @Allafyrefleorhtlig) that wafted across the yard, and the sweet imagery mingled with her weariness - and she succumbed to the weight of slumber.

As she listened to Ber's inference about her horse, Lail imagined how frightful a warg attack would be. She didn't need much imagination for it; she'd seen enough similar violence in the Cavalry but it didn't stop her shivering at the thought. After so many years away, Lail was rather hoping to find some peace and quiet now.

Allacan's song drifted over to them and Ber settled into sleep. Though she was exhausted, Lail couldn't quite rest her thoughts enough to sleep, but the song certainly soothed her mind. She laid her palms down on the grass, the blades tickling her. She'd never been so glad to see the plains of Rohan before. Though she didn't quite sleep, she closed her eyes and a faint smile appeared on her lips. She made it home at last.

By the time Allacan had finished settling both horses into their stables and had seen them treated for any injuries and wounds, well settled with soft bedding and sweet hay, the two other ladies Bereth and Lailyn had settled down to peaceful sunbathing and gentle dreaming. She passed by stealthily to leave food, drink and blankets for their leisure, leaving them to their peaceable dozing, and kept half an eye on them while she worked in the stables to ensure that the lowering sun would not leave them burnt or dehydrated.

In the lazy summer afternoon, all was quiet in the stable-yard as though her singing had soothed away all the troubles of the day. Soon enough, a new dawn would rise and riders would gather horses and supplies to ride for Edoras and the forthcoming Summer Festival. Many great ventures and experiences would be had there, but for now as the sun lazily descended the sky it seemed an apt moment to relish the peacefully idyllic Rohirric summer at the gentle pace of the grazing horse.

A New Stables with an all new Show-Ring has been opened here