Horse

Rating: R
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Nathan/Charles
Warnings: Angst, sap
Summary: Nathan makes a friend
Notes: Inspired by the Dethwater episode

Picture by KelticElf

He was Nathan’s horse. He was from the moment they saw each other. He was a huge black Friesian stallion, with an arched neck and massive hairy hooves, fighting his lead and snorting as he was led out of the trailer and onto the set where they were shooting the video. The first thing the brute did was rear up and bellow his intense dislike of the mortals he was forced to suffer, iron-shod hooves scraping the air. Ofdensen was not impressed.

“We requested a horse for a shoot, you bring us a nightmare?”

“He’ll settle down,” said the handler.

“Glad I not havings to ride dat,” said Toki, eyeing the enormous animal.

Ofdensen made a mental note to not use this company again, highly displeased with the disgruntled and aggressive creature before him. He watched as Nathan approached the unhappy horse, beer in hand, having to force himself not to call out to him, wincing as he pictured one of the massive hooves smashing Nathan’s skull like an egg. Nathan walked up to the huge, hairy beast, its long black mane hanging over its face, froth dripping from its jaws as though it was rabid. Man and horse regarded each other.

“Let’s just get this shit over with,” Nathan said.

The horse stole his can of beer and downed it, then spat the empty at the handler. It was love at first sight.

The shoot went well. Despite having no experience with horses, Nathan was a natural rider. He caught on quickly, and was soon riding the massive animal all over the set purely for fun, clad in his barbarian gear, swinging a mace and bellowing, and usually chasing some hapless roadie or stagehand.

“Well I’m glad shomebody’s having fun,” muttered Murderface.

“Gonna break his heart when we have to give that horse back,” said Pickles.

Ofdensen had been thinking the same thing, and while he was all in favour of anything that made Nathan happy, the animal simply did not belong to them. But Nathan seemed to have overlooked that detail. So had the horse, apparently, because the day they came to take him away, the animal fought his handlers every inch of the way, bracing his hooves in the dirt and refusing to move. Ofdensen did not believe the animal was mistreated, but he doubted it got much in the way of attention that was not related to work. Still, it made him ill to watch the two men try to fight the mighty equine into his trailer. Then at one point the horse reared, trying to pull free, but succeeded only in slipping and falling heavily. Nathan, unable to stand it anymore, walked over to the handlers to take the lead, growling at the smaller man as the horse slowly got to his feet, shaking and a little dazed.

“Fuck off.”

“What do you mean fuck off?” asked the handler.

“I mean leave my horse alone.”

“I think you mean MY horse!”

“No, I mean I’ll mail you a cheque for what he’s worth, and you can cash it or shove up your ass or whatever the fuck makes you happy.”

The handler stared at Nathan as he turned to the black horse and took off the lead rope and halter, dropping them onto the ground. He reached up and took hold of the pointed ears, bending them gently, pressing his face to the animal’s.

“Stupid horse,” he said. He then released it. He gave it a slap on the shoulder and walked away, the great Friesian following amicably at his side.

“I need a beer,” muttered Nathan.

The horse snorted in what sounded like agreement. The handlers simply packed up their gear and left, in no mood to face off with Nathan Explosion. Dethklok, it seemed, had just bought a horse.

The creature’s name was Lord Willoughby’s Shades of Evening, but no one called him that. He was Horse. Ofdensen had at first worried Nathan would get bored, and the animal would be left to rot in a paddock, but that didn’t happen. Even when Nathan had no time for him, someone was with Horse. He was never left to wallow in loneliness, neglected and forgotten. Toki would go talk to him, and braid his shaggy mane, though he never expressed any interest in trying to get on him. Skwisgaar would ride him occasionally, but normally he would go out and brush him when he was pissed off with life, bitching the whole time in Swedish while Horse munched hay. Even Murderface would go talk to him, occasionally sitting on him backwards. Horse didn’t seem to care. He didn’t even appear to mind that Murderface seemed to have no understanding of the differences between a horse and a dog, and endured him with good humour as Murderface taught him to speak, shake, and fetch. Murderface actually only rode Horse once, and it was a short-lived experience. He had never been on a horse, and he did not know what he was doing. He accidentally pulled too hard on the right rein, and Horse, who had lived most of his life being taught behaviours for movies, assumed that was his cue to fall over, which he did. Murderface was flattened under Horse like a bug, and he never got on his back again.

Pickles was the one who rode Horse the most. He was red cowboy death on a horse. He has apparently done some barrel riding in his youth, as well as some roping, and he quickly became the terror of every roadie within lasso range. He would come tearing along, reins in one hand, lariat in the other, and, with deftness rare to find in even experienced cattle ropers, snare a roadie and have him hog-tied in record time. Soon the most fearsome sound in Mordland was that Wisconsin accent screaming “Yeeeeeaaaaaaa-HOOOO! accompanied by thundering hooves.

Most roadies bore this without complaint, until the day Pickles branded one on the ass. Ofdensen still recalled that. He had been sitting in his office when 193 came storming in, dirty, dusty, and limping. He yanked off his hood, brown hair at all angles, face red, and yelled; “I QUIT! I am OUT of here! I was willing to put up with living in a medieval house, the strange deaths, I was even willing to overlook having to do my job with a bag over my head, but NOBODY said ANYTHING about having to put up with getting hog tied and having my ASS branded!”

“I’m sorry,” said Ofdensen, “you were…?”

“BRANDED!” 193 turned so Ofdensen could see his hip. Sure enough, he had been branded. And not the little cog brand that the roadies wore, either. This was a good old fashioned cowboy brand, meant to be seen and recognized from a distance.

Ofdensen stared at the brand, and was horrified to realize he was starting to laugh. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat, fighting back his hilarity. “I really had thought there was nothing left they could do to surprise me, but… that surprises me.” He fought back an urge to laugh his head off, though whether it was humour or hysteria he wasn’t quite sure. “Well… if you insist on quitting I’m sure we can come up with adequate compensation for the damages you suffered.”

193, now that he had calmed down a little, was starting to grin himself. “No, that’s fine, I don’t want to quit. But can I please be transferred somewhere out of roping range?”

Ofdensen found the urge to laugh becoming harder to fight. He brought his hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. 193 was starting giggle himself as he continued speaking.

“I mean I’m standing there, minding my own business, and Wild Bill Pickles comes hurtling around a corner, the next thing I know I’m on my face, tied up with my ass in the air, and a man in chaps is coming at me with a big glowing piece of iron. Now that is NOT a comfortable feeling!”

Ofdensen desperately fought the urge to burst out laughing. He almost had it under control until 193 added; “All I could think was thank god he didn’t have a set of bull castrators...”

Ofdensen rode Horse a few times himself, though he couldn’t help but think the animal had a definite sense of sarcasm. The first time Horse got a look at Ofdensen in his riding gear, Ofdensen would have sworn he raised an eyebrow and muttered “Oh puh-LEEZE!” He stood patiently as Ofdensen got the English style saddle on him, then when he climbed onto his back, Horse turned his head to look at him, as if asking “Are you done yet?”

“Come along,” Ofdensen said.

Horse tilted an ear, then, without any indication from Ofdensen whatsoever, pranced out of the stall with high, exaggerated steps. Ofdensen was sure he could hear the horse mentally singing “Here we go gathering nuts in May, nuts in May, nuts in May…” Ofdensen was willing to let him get away with it, but when Horse turned towards a tree and began picking up speed, Ofdensen curbed him so sharply that Horse was almost forced onto his ass. Man and animal regarded each other.

“Please don’t fuck with me,” said Ofdensen. “I don’t like it.”

Horse never tried to scrape Ofdensen off against a tree again.

In many ways Horse belonged to all of them, but in Horse’s mind he belonged to Nathan. The two would go for long walks together, Horse following along at his side, no halter, no lead, just walking of his own accord. Occasionally Nathan would go to the stall and the two would lounge together, Horse lying in the hay, Nathan leaning against his powerful back. They would share a six pack, Horse spitting the empties across the room. Sometimes Nathan rode him, but when he did he never used a bridle or saddle. He would climb onto the broad back, tangle his hands into the long black mane, and off they would go, often for hours. These were the times Ofdensen resented the most, chastising himself for being jealous of an animal.

He’d been with Nathan a few times, and while Nathan was happy to share his body, he was far more hesitant about sharing his emotions. It was a problem he didn’t seem to have with Horse, and Ofdensen couldn’t help but resent it. He had considered withdrawing from the relationship, telling himself occasional sex with a man who did not want to have him spend the night in his bed wasn’t worth his time. But Ofdensen couldn’t seem to make himself turn Nathan away the times he did come to him. It was not a satisfying arrangement, but he endured it, hoping some day it would turn into more. However as the months went by, Nathan gave no indication of wanting to further the relationship. So Ofdensen stewed in silence, and took the bits he was offered, resenting the meagre offerings as well as the animal that seemed to hold far more of Nathan’s heart then he ever would.

Ofdensen still remembered the evening he found himself standing in Horse’s stall, watching as Nathan and Horse rode at full speed through the slashing rain of a summer storm, both soaking wet, water streaming down Horse’s black coat and Nathan’s long hair. They entered the stall, steaming and dripping, and Ofdensen was dead certain he had never seen anything so damned erotic as Nathan with his shirt and jeans clinging to his large body, his hair plastered to his face and throat, controlling that huge horse with only his thighs and hands.

He didn’t even mind waiting while Nathan got Horse cooled and dried and clean, hating himself for being resigned to play second fiddle an animal, and hating himself even more for feeling that rush of joy and want when Nathan finally turned to him, covered in hair, soaking wet and smelling of rain and horse and hay. Maybe a little of something was better than nothing. It didn’t seem to matter much once he was naked and on his back with that huge, powerful body on top of him, feeling Nathan thrust deep and hard into him, muttering quiet obscenities into his ear. Ofdensen still remembered watching Nathan walk up to Horse after they were done and getting ready to leave. He took the animal’s ears in his hands and gently pulled them, pressing his face against Horse’s, looking into the dark eyes.

“Stupid horse.”

He rose up on his toes to whisper something into a furry ear, then went to get him a snack before bed, having to open a new bag of feed to do so. Ofdensen finished dressing and stood up. He reached out to pat the powerful neck, and then he and Nathan departed, leaving Horse warm, dry and content in his large stall, each heading to his own room once more. Stupid horse was right. But the situation was hardly Horse’s fault. Still, it made for cold comfort as Ofdensen went to his room alone, his flesh still smeared with Nathan’s semen. He showered, then set the alarm and went to bed, eventually falling asleep.

At 4:37 in the morning, a roadie woke Ofdensen up.

“It’s Horse,” was all he said.

“Did you call a vet?” Ofdensen asked.

The man nodded. “Yeah that was the first thing I did.”

“Do the boys know?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t tell them. With luck by the time they wake up this will have been resolved. No point in upsetting them.”

But by the time Pickles showed up to give Horse his morning feeding, he was dead.

The band wouldn’t let Horse be taken away. Instead they cut out the floor of his stall and dug a grave themselves, burying Horse in the place where he had lived the last eighteen months of his life. They bolted the lower half of the stall doors closed, but chained the upper doors open. They loaded in hay, filled the manger and water trough, and left a six pack beside his oat bucket. Then they made their way back to their rooms and locked themselves in. After all, it wasn’t metal to be seen crying over the family pet.

Ofdensen dealt with his own grief a little differently. He sent samples of Horse’s feed out for analysis; finding out the grain was heavily tainted with a number of toxins due to improper storage at the feed plant. Ofdensen sued them off the face of the earth, venting his rage at the hurt done to his demented little family the only way he knew how. In the end the plant was little more than an abandoned warehouse, and Horse was still dead. Ofdensen was left with a sick lump of guilt that he could have harboured such animosity towards something that had brought so much joy into the lives of five people who had endured more than their fair share of pain.

It was weeks before there was some semblance normalcy in Mordhaus. The first sign of life was Murderface in the rehearsal space, playing bass by himself. Eventually, as the days passed, he was joined by Toki and Skwisgaar, but it was a couple weeks more before Pickles showed up to join them.

Nathan had yet to emerge.

Ofdensen finally went to his room, entering quietly. He spied Nathan leaning against the window sill, gazing out into the evening at Horse’s paddock. Ofdensen walked up to him, slipping an arm around him.

“Nathan, you can’t stay in here forever.”

Nathan did not react to his presence at first. Then he said quietly; “It’s my fault. I killed Horse.”

“No, you didn’t. The feed was bad. That was what killed Horse.”

“No. I did it.”

“Nathan you did not kill Horse, you loved him.”

“I know. And I told him. I whispered it in his ear that night. That’s why he died.”

Ofdensen have him a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh come on, Charles, have you ever noticed that no one around here uses the ‘L’ word for anything other than beer and cheese? Because everything we love dies.” Nathan stared down into the empty paddock. “That’s… why… I can’t ever tell you. And why I never let you stay the night.”

Outside there was a brief flash of lightning. Eventually there was thunder. The storm was far away, muted and dull, as everything had been of late. Ofdensen thought about what he had heard Toki say when the assassin had been bearing down on him and Skwisgaar. “I always hated you, Skwisgaar.” Except that was not what he had meant. Did they really think everything they loved was going to be taken from them in some brutal way? Is that why Nathan never let him stay the night, never gave him more than the merest hints of affection? It made sense. It was not as if their lives had been filled with warmth and affection. Ofdensen reached out to touch Nathan’s hair.

“Can I assume that means you… dislike me a great deal?”

A slight smile crossed Nathan’s face. “Yeah. Might even be complete loathing.”

Ofdensen smiled, closing his eyes as Nathan lowered his head so their brows met, feeling a weight lift from his chest, replaced by a joy that made him want to sing. “I was afraid I didn’t mean anything to you.”

“No. You mean a lot. That’s why… I couldn’t tell you. I was… well… scared you’d go. Leave. Be killed. Something.”

“I would really like to stay the night.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

The lightning flickered again, and Ofdensen was startled by the brief image of a huge horse in the paddock, mane and tail blowing, gazing back at the window.

“Is that…? I mean…did I just see..?”

“He’s out there every night,” said Nathan.

The lightning flickered again, but this time all Ofdensen saw was empty paddock. He was not a man given to such things as fancying he saw phantom horses, but he was certain he had seen Horse. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the concept when Nathan spoke again.

“I think he’s mad I got him killed.”

“Nathan you did not kill Horse. You loved him. I would even go so far as to say you gave him the happiest eighteen months of his life.”

“But he’s still dead.”

Ofdensen took Nathan’s head between his hands, looking up at him. “He’s dead because the processing plant let rat poison get mixed in with the grain. Horse was not the only animal who died as a result. A lot of other people out there right now are grieving horses and ponies.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened if… I hadn’t…”

“It’s not your fault.”

Ofdensen found himself wishing the plant still existed so he could sue it again for emotional trauma. He hated seeing Nathan like this, looking defeated and sad. The lightning flickered once more, and this time there was thunder. The storm was moving closer. Once more Ofdensen swore he saw the shaggy form of a great horse in the paddock, tail blowing listlessly in the hot wind.

“Then why is he still out there?” asked Nathan.

‘He’s not out there, because there are no such things as ghosts.’ Ofdensen gently pulled the black hair. “Maybe he’s worried about you blaming yourself.”

“I shouldn’t have told him. I’m never telling anything ever again.” He looked at Ofdensen, and said quietly; “Especially not you.”

Ofdensen smiled. “I suppose I can live with that.”

“Yeah, well… that’s kind of the idea.”

The rain started to fall. Nathan edged closer to Ofdensen and kissed him. “I would like you to stay the night. I’m just… y’know… not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Well why don’t we try it anyway?”

“And what if you end up… uh… standing in that paddock, staring at me?”

“It won’t happen.”

The lightning flickered. From the corner of his eye, Ofdensen swore he caught a brief image of Horse prowling the edges of the paddock.

“You think he really is worried?” asked Nathan. “Not angry?”

“Yes. I do. And I think once you forgive yourself then… he’ll go on.”

“Think he might… like… come back and visit?”

“If you want him to.”

The thunder boomed quietly. Nathan turned from the window to face Ofdensen, drawing him close.

“What do I do if…?”

“I die?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing. There are contingencies in place. Believe me, Nathan, I have done everything I can to make certain that you and the boys are protected. Whether I am alive or dead, no one will be able to hurt you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” Ofdensen stroked the long black hair. “Well… I suppose that’s really up to you. Personally I would like to see you go on and enjoy life. And even if I do spend the night, and for some reason drop dead, it’s still not your fault. Okay?”

Nathan didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “I guess… I should… maybe think about leaving this room.”

“Well it’s either that or let Murderface take over vocals.”

“Whoa. Brutal.” He stroked his hand over Ofdensen’s hair. He seemed to ponder something, then finally asked; “Would you… want… to spend the night?”

“I would l…”

Nathan raised a hand to Ofdensen’s lips, stopping the word. Ofdensen smiled and lightly bit the finger. “I mean I would absolutely hate it.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’d hate it too.”

Nathan kissed him gently, and began slowly undressing him. They fell back to the huge bed, peeling off the rest of their clothes and slipping under the covers. Nathan drew Ofdensen close and kissed him, trailing his large hands over his small, powerful body.

“Where do you get all these muscles from?”

“Mail order.”

Nathan paused and thought about that. Ofdensen sighed, then laughed. “I work out, twice a day. I’m up every morning at six, before you boys are even breathing.”

“On purpose?”

“Well it’s the only time I have when I don’t have other things to do.”

“That’s harsh. Couldn’t you like… change the schedule?”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Well… maybe I could join you.”

“Well here’s a thought. How about if you join me in the evening, after dinner?”

“I could do that.” Nathan ran his hand over Ofdensen’s hair. “Y’know, you should grow your hair out, put it in a ponytail. You’d be cute… er.”

“You think? Maybe I will.”

Nathan kissed him, then admitted quietly; “I did write one song. But… I don’t think I’ll show it to anyone.”

“Why not?”

“Well… uh… it’s… not very metal. It’s about Horse.”

“Well you don’t have to show it to anyone. It was probably catharsis.”

“No actually it was pretty good.”

Ofdensen grinned. “I mean you were probably venting your feelings.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I was. I might show someone. Someday. I don’t know yet.”

“It’s up to you.”

“Yeah. Well. I’ll think about it.”

Nathan kissed him, ending the conversation. Outside the rain fell gently, washing the dry summer dust from the air, sweetening it. The thunder rumbled quietly, without threat. Nathan slowly nibbled and kissed and licked his way down Ofdensen’s body.

“I’m glad you’re staying. You’re just so fucking cute when you’re ready to… you know. Like you don’t know what to do with yourself.”

“I usually don’t. I’m a bit of a control freak.” He jumped as a warm, wet tongue slowly explored him.

“I hadn’t noticed,” said Nathan. “I mean… apart from the way you… like… obsessively lace your shoes, or line up your pens so they all face due east.”

“Nathan are you being smart with me?”

“I doubt it.” He moved up to lie over top of his lover, kissing him softly, then toying with his hair. Ofdensen draped his arms around his neck.

“So do you hate me?” Ofdensen asked.

“Yeah. I… really hope you hate me too. At least enough to put with my crap.”

“So long as you don’t make me sleep alone any more.”

“No. I won’t. I just… couldn’t risk… I mean I’m still not sure this is a good idea.” Nathan lowered his head and kissed him. “But not having you here… I didn’t like it. And I didn’t like knowing you were hurt. I don’t want to hurt you.” He trailed his hand over Ofdensen’s cheek. “Are you sure I didn’t kill Horse?”

“Positive.”

“Well, I still don’t think I’ll risk… saying… that.”

“You don’t have to tell me. You can just… show me.”

“Yeah,” said Nathan quietly. “I think I can do that.”

He kissed him gently, and a peace settled over the room, broken only by the quiet sounds of love-making. Outside the storm continued to dampen the earth, the rain tapping against the partly-open window, dripping down onto the sill. Down in the paddock a great shape stared up at the window for a while, then turned and walked into the closed stall, and did not return.