Laurië Lassi – Golden Leaves by Esteliel

Horses

Write a story or poem, or create a piece of art where your character rises above themselves to follow their dreams.

Horses

He was not supposed to ride Hrávayar. He was not supposed to ride any horse – only his fat, short-legged pony, and while he loved Cundo, he was old and lazy and too slow to follow the horses of the older children. And Laurefindil hated to be left behind when his cousins rode off to have all sorts of wonderful adventures in the forest.

His father had said that once he was old enough to ride a horse, he would get one – but he had not said when that would be. So Laurefindil had decided to take matters into his own hands. He would ride – and not just any horse, but Hrávayar, the most beautiful stallion his father had ever bred, and unfortunately also the most wild. Hrávayar would not let any of the boys in the stable ride him; so far, he had only allowed his father onto his back. Once his father saw that he could ride Hrávayar, he certainly would have to give him a real horse at last!

Determined, he dragged a small box into Hrávayar's stable, and used it to crawl up onto the crib. He swallowed when for the first time, he was eye to eye with the stallion, whose massive head alone seemed bigger than his body. “I have an apple,” he said, and Hrávayar's nostrils twitched. “You can have it after. All we need to do is show atto that I am big enough to ride on you. Then you can have the apple and I will finally get a horse, so the others won't laugh at me and tell me to stay behind.”

He thought he saw agreement in the stallion's eyes, and with a deep breath, he leaned forward until he could clutch at his mane, then jumped.

The stallion's body was massive with muscle, and for a long, embarrassing moment, Laurefindil hung at his side, frantically trying to get his leg over Hrávayar's back. At last the stallion turned his head and nudged his bottom so that Laurefindil slid up onto his back, panting for breath.

“Thank you. You really are... big,” Laurefindil said, and for the first time there was insecurity in his voice. When Hrávayar slowly stepped out of his stable, Laurefindil clutched his mane more tightly, for the stallion's back was so broad that his legs were spread wide apart, and he found that it was impossible to hold himself in position with his thighs. Only Hrávayar's slow, careful steps kept him on his back as they made their way into the courtyard.

The first person who saw them gasped, but did not dare to approach, for Hrávayar was well known for his dislike of people. Laurefindil started to feel proud again, even though he knew that he would fall off at the first faster movement.

“Laurefindil!”

There was his atto at last! “See, atto? I am now big enough to ride on a horse!” he declared, and then his father's arms came around his waist and lifted him from Hrávayar's back. “Now you have to give me a horse, too!”

His father sighed, not looking as happy as Laurefindil had thought he would. “It looks like I have no choice, unless I want to see you fall to your death from his back one day.”

“Hrávayar would not hurt me! I promised him an apple,” Laurefindil argued, then looked at the tall stallion towering above him, remembering how he had been unable to find purchase on his broad back. “But he is really tall. I would be happy with a smaller horse, too...”

His father shook his head and laughed, then swung Laurefindil up onto his shoulders. “I'll take you to the market tomorrow. Sartaron has nice po- horses. They are twice as big as Cundo – then you can get up to all sorts of dangerous things with your cousins. Won't that be nice?”

“Oh yes!” Laurefindil said enthusiastically, and his father sighed in defeat.