Dan pulled her up onto his horse, and she settled in behind him, and he tried desperately to keep his thoughts pure. If either Vera or his mother ever knew what went on in his brain more and more these last few years, they would flog him for a week straight thru Sunday. He shook his head as he kicked his horse into a gallop and they raced off, Vera- he changed his direction of thought focusing on the snow-covered ground in front of them.
Snow, that was safe, how had they traveled with a wagon through the snow? There were only a few inches in the fields and the streets were bare, but the mountain pass must have been treacherous this early in the year. He worried for them each year, fearing that a blizzard or avalanche or rain followed by a freeze would take them. That was why or at least mostly why he spent so much time searching the hills for proof of their safe return each year. He never quite rested easily until they had.
But they were back, relief and joy flooded him all over again, and she was right there behind him. - They must have taken the wheels off and used the wagon as a slay again for most of the trip. He quickly refocused his thoughts.
She had explained it to him one day in late fall before they left, he remembered. When the snow had already covered the ground. It had sounded terrifying, and he made the mistake of telling her so. She had rushed to find some smooth wooden training shield and she dragged him up the biggest hill she could find… He smiled at the memory; she had meant to prove that it wasn't at all scary but fun… he did not agree.
And the six weeks it took for his broken arm to heal hadn't either. As if that hadn't been embarrassing enough, he then had to deal with the laughs and rude comments about how clumsy he was from his family, palace staff, and nobles alike for months. He should have come up with a better cover story, but since everyone thought he'd been cleaning in the crypts, well the story was he tripped and fell, likely people added because of a fright after seeing a rat.
That was him, the awkward and clumsy prince… Guilt churned his stomach again, how had he still not found a way to gently tell her he'd been lying to her for years and he was actually the Second prince? Right, there was no nice way, he just had to man up and do it.
"Yer late." a gruff voice tore him out of his thoughts. Vera's father, Baldric frowned at them, but he knew there was no ill will, that's just how the old man was.
Half the boxes and barrels had already been removed and stacked neatly along one wall of the small barn. "Sorry, we lost track of time, we'll get the rest." he offered.
"Yes, ya will. And ya can finish taking care of the horses too." he always had a stronger accent right after they got back, usually, he prided himself in speaking near-perfect Centrilian.
"Don't worry, we will," Vera said hopping down. He followed suit and led his horse into a spare stall. Vera's father and her uncle Ham went into the shop presumably to work on other things.
Ham had stayed here the last few winters with Vera's other uncle, to keep the shop open. It was slow in the winter, with fewer people needing metal work and the other less popular smiths certainly didn't mind when they used to close for the winter. They didn't need the money and they made far more trading goods that wouldn't be available from the traveling merchants for at least another month.
But they always seemed to pick up another apprentice or two once it started getting cold. The forges were hot, and could probably keep someone warm even in the bitter cold of the northern lands. Ham the big softy that he was, had probably stayed back to keep the place open just for them.
He smiled at the thought rubbing Crusher's neck with one hand and Troll's with his other. The former was more interested in his oats, but the other despite his name loved the attention. He hadn't seen them in months either and it would be rude not to say hello.
"I'll get Thunder!" Vera called out as she passed him to fetch a pail of water to hang in his stall. All three horses were war horses, but the Smith's horses were old and had been threw an actual war. Which is where Troll, Hams horse, had likely gotten the nasty-looking scar on his face. Parts of his mane refused to grow back but despite that, he was a very friendly horse. Troll nuzzled his head as if to confirm his thoughts as he began brushing him down.
His horse was much younger and hadn't seen an ounce of actual battle but was very well trained. He was slightly taller and much leaner than the older horses, but they were a different breed, stockier, and more rugged, much like their owners.
It was rare to see a mere smith with such grand horses even if they were old and mostly retired. They didn't need them much other than for the trek to and from the mountains each year. And it would be costly to keep them, but they were their horses, so he understood. He wondered what they had done in the war, Baldric and Ham. Most soldiers didn't get horses, even the northerners. But they would never talk about the war, and he didn't push.
"Euwk," he exclaimed suddenly leaning away. Troll had inadvertently slobbered troth water all in his hair as he reached back to nuzzle him again.
Vera laughed. "I love the new look, you must tell me who did your hair," she remarked jokingly.
"Ha, ha," he said trying to fix his slimy hair. "Now I know why you wanted to take care of Thunder. You just don't want horse slobber."
Vera laughed and they talked as they worked, and soon the horses were all taken care of and the rest of the was wagon unloaded.
"Is that… is that them?" he heard Diane, Bret's wife say from outside the open barn door, just as he stacked the last of the crates. She looked shocked, then tried not to laugh. "Dear heavens, what happened to your hair?" she asked.
"He got drooled on by a horse," Vera informed her. She walked over to join them drying her hands in a cloth as she went, having just cleaned up. He looked down at himself, she looked more presentable than him. No wonder Diane was laughing, Bret and Mark were smirking too.
"Diane, this is Vera, Vera, Diane. Now if you'll excuse me, I will go wash up." Dan said by way of introduction. Vera handed him the towel as he walked past her to the well.
Wasting no time, she rushed in and hugged Mark who pretended to be annoyed by it but fooled no one. Then she hugged Bret, careful of the food he was carrying. Then she turned to Diane and carefully executed a curtsy despite the lack of dress, as she was still in her northern leathers and furs. "And it is a pleasure to finally meet you, my lady," she said.
"Oh, there's no need for that, I'm just a minor noble from a modest family," Diane said as he watched from the well as he washed. She was blushing and giggling like a little girl rather than a woman in her mid-twenties. But the men were all cracking smiles too.
"But you are still a lady, and I should at least attempt proper courtesies." Vera insisted.
There was more laughter, possibly at the thought of being given such high respect when a Royal knight and the prince received none. The guilt returned full force, but now was not the time to come clean.
Turning away from them as they continued to talk and grabbed the keys off its hook and shut and locked the barn door. They had just unloaded a bunch of valuable trade goods after all, and Ham had insured him that if there was ever a fire, those horses would have no problem breaking open the door.
"Why don't we bring that food inside and celebrate," Dan said when there was a break in conversation. He handed Vera the key ring and she went to unlock the front door, as Baldric and Ham had disappeared threw the doors connecting the barn to the forge earlier, trusting them to lock up when done.
Shortly after, food was put on the table, and everyone crowded around, to make themselves a plate. Dan stood back waiting his turn and smiled letting out a deep breath, relaxing. He had missed this, and it just felt so comforting and right. He felt at home.