The Proud and the Painful

    An inaudible sound erupted from Serge's chest as he slammed his head against the surprisingly hard poll of the dark stallion beneath him. He could see the sand beneath Rivo's hooves give as the horse pushed off with a powerful stride. The man would have been proud of the amount of power Rivo gave now, if he wasn't facing the ground and clinging to his neck. This was not how this round was supposed to go...

    How had it come to this embarrassing moment?

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    "Oxer!" Serge shouted, arching his back as Rivo came around the turn in the warmup ring, pointing the stallion at the warmup jump and feeling the familiar thrust of the hindquarters as his mount spotted the target. Three... two... one... and over. Another clean one. They really were on a roll this season. With the amount of shows and training sessions the team had had, Rivo had seemed to become more focused, more grounded and aware of what was going on. And it made Serge more confident about their showing ability. 

    "Ha!" He chortled, jogging Rivo up to the fence. "We're going to rock this class!" He smirked at the elf leaning against the railing, patting the dark neck before dismounting. "What do you think Talen? Want to bet we'll take 1st again?"

    "Not particularly. Especially if you're going to get cocky about it." Came the droll reply, one hand coming out to take the reins as Serge rolled up his stirrups. "Don't get carried away. You haven't won yet." A slight smile tugged at the elf's lips. "However, if you manage to focus, you might have a good chance at placing." He rolled his eyes as the younger man whooped, stepping sideways with the stallion as he startled at the sudden noise. "Again. If you focus. You haven't won yet."

    "Nah, but I will." Serge said confidently, puffing his chest out and hooking his helmet over the fence. "You'll see. We're an unbeatable team." He snatched his waterbottle and gave his boss a wave as he headed towards the clubhouse. "I'll be back in ten. Gonna take a pitstop before my number."

 ~-~-~-~-~-~-~

   And now he was glad that he had. Struggling to sit up, Serge felt Rivo begin to weave beneath him, the stallion getting lost on the course. Crap. Crap. Crap... Grabbing mane, he shoved his butt into the saddle, still missing a stirrup and off balance. Where was the next jump? Oh-

    With a grunt, he dug his heels into the stallion's sides and clung to his mane as the next jump loomed before them. Taken aback, Rivo sidestepped before launching himself into the air, landing on the other side of the vertical with enough force to slam Serge back in the saddle. Mostly.

    "Argh!" He was definitely going to need ice. But he was back in the saddle, abet in pain. Just 4 more jumps. They could do this. He couldn't stop now, not after his pre-victory chortle.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

    "Look out, future champion coming through~" Serge sung out, trying to make his way through the crowds that had come upon the club house during his period in the bathroom. There were raised eyebrows and snorts of irritation as he shoved his way through, but he didn't care. Why should he? They would see he was right in about 15 minutes. "Yo. Excuse me. Gotta go get my champion horse." Another few shoves, and some snowflake with a sharp elbow later, and Serge was out and trotting towards the line, where he could see Talen with Rivo, walking the stallion in slow circles.

    "Back Talen. And ready to show our stuff." He smirked, climbing the mounting block as the picture of long-suffering patience brought Rivo up to him. "You're asking for a beating you know. And I know about 5 or 6 riders here who will willingly give it to you."

    "Hey, I'm just predicting the outcome. Anyone who gets offended at that isn't ready for the show world." He adjusted his reins and grinned down at Talen, clipping his helmet back into place. "Go sit in the stands and watch our winning round. I'm up in 5." With a cocky salute, Serge clucked to the stallion and nudged him with his heels a few times to get his attention before they moved away to the gate, leaving Talen behind with a frown and a sigh.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

    And, maybe he should have toned it down. Just a smidge. Because that certainly hadn't been a pretty round, but as they crossed the line, Serge let out a breath and sagged in the saddle. He hadn't fallen off. He was still in the running. He was in pain. With a groan, the young man let Rivo pick his way out of the arena, doubling over after they were officially out and ignoring the pointed look his boss was giving him 10 feet away. He was going to get a tongue lashing, he was sure of it.

    He felt the elf take the reins and start to lead the stallion towards the stalls. He sat in silence as they walked, just waiting for Talen to start up, eyes closed.

    "There's a bag of ice in the tack room. You'd better head there." Came the only comment, and only after he felt his mount stop moving.

    Slowly, Serge nodded, kicking his feet free and groaning as he slid down the side of what now seemed like a very tall horse. He grunted in pain as his feet hit the ground and hobbled towards their tack room. He'd be sitting in there until otherwise summoned, that's for certain.

    "That'll teach him." Talen murmured to Rivo as the pair watched Serge limp away. "He'll be more humble next show, and then he won't be getting in your way while you're working." He chuckled slightly and stroked the bay's nose. Yes, Serge wouldn't live this round down for quite some time, he predicted.


As a woman, I really have no idea what it's like for a dude to land on the pommel of a saddle... I can only go by my own experiences and then attempt to express that x 10. So guys, I'm sorry if I didn't portray your pain properly, but I did try...

References:
No references for the horse and rider
Used Helsinge's photos for cloud ideas.
I think 20190621 161409 and 20190621 160955 for shapes and general cloudiness.