Fic: The Grey Mare
The Grey Mare
author: lasairfhiona
pov: Connor
word count: 530
hl_flashfic topic: animal
a/n thanks to taibhrigh and my Mum for the read over, all other mistakes are mine and elismor for the name
Connor leaned on the fence and watched the mares and foals as they galloped around the lush green pasture. The cool day and the brisk wind had them all feeling frisky. They all had the same grace and elegance of the mares they descended from with the power and heart from the stallion that started it all.
One particular foal caught his eye and he watched her as she galloped easily next to her mother tossing her neck as she ran. Regardless of her black color, he knew she would eventually grey out to become a beautiful rose grey. There was no way she wouldn't, not considering her dam, or her pedigree. He remembered another mare that started out the same color. One that she looked so much like...
<*> <*> <*> <*>
England 1800s
Connor watched as the mare strained and paced around her stall, sweat darkened her flanks from her efforts. It was taking too long. She was having too much trouble. He could shoot that dam Irish woman and her stallion. His prize mare and he was on the brink of losing her. Right now he didn't care that the stallion had more heart than he'd seen in a horse in a long time. Right now all he was concerned about was his mare and making sure she lived through delivering her foal.
He ran his hands along the mare's neck while he whispered nonsensical words to her, using his touch and voice to soothe her. Her labor was long and she was tiring. When she stilled he felt her muscles tighten for a contraction. This one was stronger then before so he continued his massage down her back, watching as the foal started to emerge. He stepped aside as Fraoch* dropped to the straw then moved to help if needed and to draw the foal when it was out.
One. Two. Three. Four large contractions and the foal was on the ground in front of him. Rubbing the small body with handful of straw he took stock in the foal: a filly, four white socks, a blaze and she sweetest face he'd ever seen. Fraoch stood and joined him in caring for the filly.
Stepping back, Connor watched as mother and daughter bonded. Watching the newest addition to his stable, he almost hated to admit that the breeding produced a very nice foal.
He might have to swallow his pride and contact Brigid to see if he could use her stallion to service more of his mares.
<*> <*> <*> <*>
"Like what you see?" she asked as she leaned on the rail next to him.
"You know I do," Connor answered, looking over at her. "I want the black filly with the grey mare," he added looking back to the horses running in the pastures. Who would have known a hundred and fifty years ago that the descendants of an accidental breeding would lead to a stable consistently producing some of the finest eventing horses.
"I thought you would, I've already excluded her from the list of foals going to the sales. She looks like Fraoch."
"Aye, she does…" Connor answered thinking back to that first foal and the companion she went on to be.
The end
* Fraoch means "Heather" in Gaelic.
author: lasairfhiona
pov: Connor
word count: 530
hl_flashfic topic: animal
a/n thanks to taibhrigh and my Mum for the read over, all other mistakes are mine and elismor for the name
Connor leaned on the fence and watched the mares and foals as they galloped around the lush green pasture. The cool day and the brisk wind had them all feeling frisky. They all had the same grace and elegance of the mares they descended from with the power and heart from the stallion that started it all.
One particular foal caught his eye and he watched her as she galloped easily next to her mother tossing her neck as she ran. Regardless of her black color, he knew she would eventually grey out to become a beautiful rose grey. There was no way she wouldn't, not considering her dam, or her pedigree. He remembered another mare that started out the same color. One that she looked so much like...
<*> <*> <*> <*>
England 1800s
Connor watched as the mare strained and paced around her stall, sweat darkened her flanks from her efforts. It was taking too long. She was having too much trouble. He could shoot that dam Irish woman and her stallion. His prize mare and he was on the brink of losing her. Right now he didn't care that the stallion had more heart than he'd seen in a horse in a long time. Right now all he was concerned about was his mare and making sure she lived through delivering her foal.
He ran his hands along the mare's neck while he whispered nonsensical words to her, using his touch and voice to soothe her. Her labor was long and she was tiring. When she stilled he felt her muscles tighten for a contraction. This one was stronger then before so he continued his massage down her back, watching as the foal started to emerge. He stepped aside as Fraoch* dropped to the straw then moved to help if needed and to draw the foal when it was out.
One. Two. Three. Four large contractions and the foal was on the ground in front of him. Rubbing the small body with handful of straw he took stock in the foal: a filly, four white socks, a blaze and she sweetest face he'd ever seen. Fraoch stood and joined him in caring for the filly.
Stepping back, Connor watched as mother and daughter bonded. Watching the newest addition to his stable, he almost hated to admit that the breeding produced a very nice foal.
He might have to swallow his pride and contact Brigid to see if he could use her stallion to service more of his mares.
<*> <*> <*> <*>
"Like what you see?" she asked as she leaned on the rail next to him.
"You know I do," Connor answered, looking over at her. "I want the black filly with the grey mare," he added looking back to the horses running in the pastures. Who would have known a hundred and fifty years ago that the descendants of an accidental breeding would lead to a stable consistently producing some of the finest eventing horses.
"I thought you would, I've already excluded her from the list of foals going to the sales. She looks like Fraoch."
"Aye, she does…" Connor answered thinking back to that first foal and the companion she went on to be.
The end
* Fraoch means "Heather" in Gaelic.