You Take Me Over, You're the Magic in My Veins

chapter 5

It isn't until they're stepping over the threshold of the stables that Harry remembers to tell Louis that Gemma is not riding with them today.

"Oh. Is she not well?"

Harry can't be certain, but he doesn't think Louis sounds overly concerned. He's not sure whether he should be insulted on Gemma's behalf or pleased that Louis doesn't seem too put out at the prospect of being alone with Harry today. In the end, selfishness wins out and he knocks their shoulders together as they approach their horses, answers, "Yes, she's just being lazy."

Louis' eyes are sparkling when he turns to help Harry onto his horse. His palm is warm through the fabric of Harry's trousers, grip firm where he's grasping his thigh, and it takes Harry three tries to successfully launch himself into the saddle, too distracted by Louis' nearness.

He looks down at Louis to thank him, but before he can speak, Louis squeezes his leg and says, voice pitched low and mischievous, "Well, then we'll just have to have an exciting adventure without her."

They forgo riding on the beach this time and head straight for the woods. It's warmer than it was yesterday, the sun strong on their backs as they lead the horses for the line of trees, but it's cool in the forest, underneath the canopy of leaves. Louis angles Apollo close so that they can chat easily as they wander between the trees.

Harry settles into Epona's rhythm quicker than he had the previous day, finds himself leaning into her turns and swaying with her loping gait with ease. They find the creek again and follow it for hours, stopping occasionally to stretch their legs or to watch a deer drink downstream.

The forest is full of sounds, of the quiet hum of life, and Harry drinks it in, fingertips itching to touch every tree, learn every flower so that he can take their imprints with him and bring light to the bleak winterscape that he calls home. Louis doesn't know, though, so he settles for gazing around with wonder, taking in the sweet trill of birdsong, the splash of creek water around their horses' hoofs, the rustle of the underbrush as rabbits and foxes scamper out of sight.

He and Louis talk about everything and nothing as they ride. Louis tells him about his uncles Charles and William, who visited with their children this past winter, and how William, expecting their fourth child, needed a chair on wheels to traverse the castle. It had taken the palace engineer and blacksmith three days to design and build the chair, and to this day, they speak of it as their proudest work. Harry tells Louis about the fishermen who spend weeks at sea and return to their wives with fish larger than two men stacked on top of each other, about the barn cat he snuck into the castle earlier in the year who now lives underneath his bed and sleeps on his pillow at night.

"I'm sure your hair makes a lovely cat's nest," Louis teases, leaning across the small gap between their horses to tug on a curl just above Harry's ear. He doesn't tug hard, just enough to have butterflies erupting in Harry's belly, but his eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches just a bit, loud enough to have Louis freezing, hand still buried in Harry's hair, before withdrawing.

The air between them goes thick and silent, heavy with tension that spins out until all Harry can hear is the soft puffs of Louis' breathing and his own heart beating in his ears. Harry can feel anticipation building in his chest, tingling and snapping along his nerves like a flame - the same feeling he gets when he uses his magic.

He's so distracted, hyper-aware of Louis' presence, of Louis' hands on his waist while he tries to dismount for lunch, that he loses his footing in the stirrup and falls before he can settle one foot safely on the ground. He goes careening into Louis' chest, too much momentum from being so high up, and they both go crashing to the ground in a tangle of windmilling limbs. Louis manages to twist them so that they have less chance of hitting their heads on the rocks, but it hurts nonetheless, steals Harry's breath right out of his lungs, and leaves his shoulder and hip throbbing where they hit the ground.