The Blue Danube [OLD]

- 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫. ﾐ

╲⠀╲⠀╲ ╲

⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀★

may 1859

"Come'ead John! It'll be fine, honestly!"

"But I've never gone horse ridin'! There's stables back at the manor, but I was never allowed ta go near them.." John stared up at the majestic creature in apprehension, with a long grey mane and a swishing tail as it stared right back at the prince, large eyes blinking in the hopes for a treat. 

"Ginny is fine. She's friendly towards me mates," Paul reassured with a hand around John's shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a twinkling smile as he reached to stroke the horse's neck, along the grey fur that was patterned with spots. "See here, Gin? This is John. He's a good guy. Dashingly handsome." That caused his lover to chuckle, eyes flashing with amusement.

The horse craned her head forward and nosed his hair with her snout, letting out a huff as she sniffed him, causing him to freeze in his spot, staring at the horse in a mixture of awe and anxiety, slowly reaching to pat her head as he got more comfortable with the animal. She was all dressed up in the equipment necessary for horse riding; bridle strapped to her head and saddle on her back, with reins alongside it. 

Paul had been wanting to teach John how to ride a horse for a while, and finally he had convinced the uneasy boy to join him, promising he would do most of the work and he could just hold onto him and enjoy the ride. The spring sun was particularly hot that day, the ardent rays beating down on the nape of their necks, the long grass below dry and devoid of the usual greenery it usually possessed. Not as hot, of course, as it would be when summer rolled around; but still quite warm nonetheless. The endless fields stretched out before the two, standing in the vast paddocks where the horses would graze and walk around, before they would be ushered back into the stables in the night. John could see some paddocks to their right were filled with rows of growing corn and wheat, which would be ready to be harvested in September - those fell away to the rest of the garden, filled with various crops and plants, that stretched out to the immediate area at the back of the McCartney/Asher house. To their left were the stables a way off, and the tall wooden shed where they would keep specific ingredients to make up the feed for the animals. Next to that shed was the barn, filled with hay and straw and where the workhorses were kept; off in that direction was where the chicken coop and the pens for the pigs and sheep were situated.

"Okay, 'm ready. I think," John finally spoke, turning to Paul before tugging curiously on the riding waistcoat he was wearing. The two of them were wearing riding uniforms - tall, scuffed boots that ended at the knee, riding gloves, caps, and dark trousers that were tucked into the boots. The material was rough and discoloured, with the occasional stain, and slightly uncomfortable on John's pale skin; he was used to the smooth, silky, high-quality clothing he wore on a daily basis, even if it was suffocating in winter and sometimes too tight for his liking. Wearing this clothing reminded him faintly of the night when he went to the forest that surrounded the right of the house and bordered the farm, not even having realised he was doing it; Paul had found him absolutely drenched as it was storming, and lent him his clothes to wear while his own dried. And - he could see for the first time - the boy's attitude towards him had vastly transformed. He could still see the younger boy's face imprinted in his vision... illuminated in the light of the candles, face splashed orange and pretty doe eyes shining with a new light and warmth towards him. 
He wouldn't forget that sight anytime soon.