leap of faith

Though he commanded legions and in turn the respect that decoration entailed, it was often that Ragnar appeared doing the most menial of tasks. Which is not to say that he fancied himself morally heightened in comparison to others, just that he hated waiting around with his thumb in his ass barking orders. Especially when the task in question was less fuss than it would take to organize the labor for it. Not to mention, the tending to of one's horse served more than just a way to pass the time. A horse, like most beings, appreciated generosity and was rarely inclined to bite the hands that cared for them. 

For all of his valor and long career of warring, Lorcan deserved nothing less than regular and attentive care at the hands of he who demanded the lion's share of his services. Now especially, after Ragnar's ill-fated detention in Orlais, he felt indebted to devoting what he could find of his time. He'd missed his friend, dearly so, and was morbidly happy to find the sentiment returned from the sturdy courser. What better way of bonding, than long ride, one that would of course require some preparation. Although he inteded as much for his day, Ragnar was not steadfast in his plans. He'd allow himself the luxury of leisure if only fleeting. 

He hoisted the large saddle from where it was stored with the rest of the tack, settling it as steadily on the broad back of the horse as he could manage. Moving to tighten the appropriate straps and buckles, he worked in pensive silence along with the rest of the stable hands as was rather custom for the Warden-Constable.

The past days had done so much to remind Grainne of how narrow the scope of her own experiences were, even though she though herself to be a well trained, well rounded warrior.  Her time as a Templar in Kirkwall had only taught her so much, and later in rebuilding her new life, she really only bothered to practice what she knew already instead of broadening her horizons.  Her areas of need were painfully obvious, and the most embarrassing one was her utter lack of confidence on horseback.

Here she was surrounded by people of all ages and walks of life—soldiers, diplomats, artisans, and merchants alike—who could sit a horse as easily as they could walk.  Meanwhile, Grainne struggled giving her trust to a mode of transportation with a mind of its own.  She grew up in as a city kid, in a city with too many stairs to make anything other than your own two feet a practical way to get around, and she had never gotten out of that mindset.

Well, now was the time, no matter how uncomfortable or awkward it felt.  The first step to being decent at something was to spend a lot of time being terrible at it, and so Grainne went to the stables hoping to find some tired old gelding and get some gentle practice.

At first she was a bit disappointed to see she wasn’t alone here, afraid of making a fool of herself, but maybe it was for the best to have someone nearby to scrape her broken body off the ground if this went badly.

She approached and offered a polite bow of her head.  “Hello…I don’t think we’ve met?My name is Grainne.” Her voice was soft, a hint of nerves she hoped was undetectable.

There was comfort in the familiar. Comfort in knowing that after so long away he could pick up where he'd left off. That he was away for any extended amount of time wasn't novel. In fact it was quite often that he ventured out into the surrounding countryside to do what he did best. Rather it was the condition of his absence this time that didn't sit right and had since skewed his understanding of love in the worst ways. Answering for his mistakes in the most humilitating way possible wasn't something even a battle-worn warrior like himself could weather with the apathetic expression he was most accostomed to wearing. 

But in all of this, there was the banalty of his life here on Solider's Peak. There was Lorcan. Easily one of the truest friends he'd known. He was lost in the routine enough so that when she spoke, every muscle in his body clenched in surprise, though his face did little to belie the sentiment. He looked up, finding an unfamiliar face. No, I don't suppose we have, he started carefully, tip-toeing into this conversation. He could boast bravery in battle but he'd never been much of a conversationalist. He smiled, though it did not reach his ears. Ragnar he said simply, now adjusting the bridle of the trusty courser. If she was here and allowed to roam alone, there was zero doubt in his mind that she'd been vetted. 

Looking for a mount? There were only a handful of reasons a person might venture to the stables. It was certainly the place to start if you needed swift transport.

“Ragnar” she reprated, hoping the name would stick but knowing that was unlikely.  “A pleasure.” Grainne paused to glance at the courser, momentarily panicking because she was so unaware of the etiquette in these situations.  Was she meant to introduce herself to the horse too?  Probably not…that was stupid.  Damn animal couldn’t understand.

“And yes, I’m looking for a mount.  Just to practice a little.”  Suddenly she felt nervous, almost ashamed to admit there was a skill that wasn’t joe she wanted.

To say she looked uneasy seemed to overstatement. He didn't have to be keen on body language to see that she didn't feel comfortable in the moment. But being that he hadn't seen her before, it stood to reason that she might still be finding her way around the keep. All things considered, he was apt to forgive her attempt at small talk for he never figured it a pleasure for anyone to make his acquaintance. An inevitablity perhaps, but certainly not a pleasure. 

Ragnar nodded, smoothing his horse between his nostrils as he chuffed in his relative boredom. Making sure the reins were secured to the stall post, he stepped further into the paddock to allow for a fuller picture of the rest of the stalls and their occupants. What manner of practice?If it's just practice in the saddle I'd recommend one of the older mares. But if you're interested in a longer ride, I would tend towards the fillies. They're near the end. He paused smiling politely. Would you like some help?

Grainne looked down and paused for a moment before answering, still embarrassed by her own lack of skill and experience, but still trying to embrace the fact that she would do herself no favors by trying to hide it.

“To be frank, I need the oldest, gentlest mare there is.  I’m much more of a beginner than I like to admit.” Her heart was still fluttering, but it was a relief to confess that she had absolutely no clue what she was doing.  “I need as much help as I can get, as soon f I were a child.  More so, maybe.  Children at least aren’t afraid of falling and not being able to get back up.”

Admittedly it had a been a while since he'd taught someone the basics. It wasn't too much in his purview these days but when the opportunity presented itself he was quick to take advantage. It had been his life before the Wardens, tending to the horses of a noble house and finding an immense peace in doing so. Back then it was one of the only things he had, that responsibility and seemingly dull labor. He'd discovered early in life that horses, and by extension many animals in general, made far better companions than their bi-pedal counterparts. 

Ragnar nodded with understanding, knowing exactly which horse he meant to introduce. He moved several stalls down towards a salt and pepper mare, mane braided to keep from her face but also as a sort of deference for her time spent in their ranks. He leaned on the gate to the stall, waiting for his new acquaintance to follow. This is Ava, far more patient than she ought to be considering some of the riders she's carried. It was usually the elder of their brood that tended to get paired with children who still had yet to learn how to respect an animal, much less ride one with any skill. She won't bite. He clucked his tongue, reaching into the stall to beckon the animal. When she came to investigate and gracefully hang her head within reach of them, Ragnar smoothed his hand along her snout in a placating gesture. She's due to be walked too. I'm sure she'd appreciate moving around a bit.

Grainne followed a few paces behind, looking at each horse she passed and trying to make a guess about what sort of creature each one was…but she didn’t know enough to actually notice any details aside from the obvious ones like size and color.

She stopped beside Ragnar and looked toward the mare with a soft smile.  “Ava.” She reached out to softly pet the horse’s neck.  “I think she likes me.  Or, at least she doesn’t seem to dislike me.”

Her smile was answered with his own as he continued to soothe the horse. It's important you two feel comfortable around each other. A horse like Ava will be more forgiving with your fear, but she'll be able to sense every speck of it. He'd seen what happened to a jittery rider atop a jittery horse. I think she likes you too. But then to be fair, Ava wasn't hard to win over given her agreeable nature. It was the reason he'd singled her out after all. 

Would you like to saddle her up? He wasn't really sure what Grainne might have in mind in coming here today but he found himself almost as patient as Ava. A rare form indeed.

The idea of getting a saddle on this horse and going for a ride now gave Grainne a jolt of excitement…and a little nervousness.  It all seemed so soon and part of her worried she wasn’t ready.  However, she set those thoughts aside.  Practicing riding was why she came out her, putting it off wasn’t going to help her.

“I would, but I might need a little help or a watchful eye.  I’ve never done it all on my own before.”  Usually Grainne was embarrassed by how steps and processes never seemed to stick in her mind, but at least as a beginner she had more room to be forgetful.

Let's get her saddled then.There was no time like the present. Especially considering his own inclination before their conversation. Have to start somewhere, eh? To the untrained eye it might looked like a rather involved process but for Ragnar it was a fairly banal effort to saddle the mare. Fitting her with a briddle, he lead her out of the stall and into the yard to allow for more space. 

She's ready if you are. Because it wouldn't be much of a lesson without the practical aspects. Left food in the stirrup here, whatever hand you're comfortable with on the saddle horn there and then it's just a bit of a hop to swing your leg over to the other side. He was sure to make it sound easy as he could hardly remember his first lesson on horseback, it being an unmentionable collection of decades ago. I can give you a lift if necessary