#character!thomas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kieraelieson · 3 months ago

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A Visit From the Farrier

Set after the main section of the Centaur AU

Thomas yawned, sitting up.

Things were moving slower now. It’s still a lot, caring for six centaurs, but nothing especially bad has happened in a bit.

Thomas looked up and a bit to the side. His ‘bed’ was in the empty stall next to Roman’s. Roman seemed to still be asleep, standing with his upper body flopped against the centaur bed attached to the wall. It was a little strange for Roman to still be asleep, usually when Thomas woke Roman was already awake.

There were soft sounds from nearby, probably Emile working on breakfast. He had very generously stepped into the position of breakfast maker most mornings.

Not that it took too much work to open the packets, add water, and microwave. The Authiers mostly had provided pre-packaged centaur food. It was supposed to be healthy, with all the vitamins and minerals needed by a centaur in a day. But there sure wasn’t a lot of variety. There were a couple ‘different flavors’ that smelled roughly the same to Thomas, and all of them had the same shredded wheat kind of texture. He’d been bringing in as much human food as he could, trying to let them have something that actually tasted good. But the stable was small, and didn’t have a whole lot of extra storage space, much less a stove or a fridge.

Thomas stood up and brushed off some of the hay sticking to him. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing yesterday, though, so was everyone else mostly. The centaurs weren’t used to pajamas, so they generally only changed if they felt their clothes were dirty. The exceptions were Remy and Emile, who were used to a bit finer of a lifestyle while living with Thomas.

It was honestly a bit of a downgrade for them here. This stable was about the same size as Thomas’s, but had twice as many stalls inside it, and now three times as many centaurs. There wasn’t anything like a kitchen, much less one that centaurs could easily use, only a single microwave and some banged up plastic plates.

Thomas opened the stall as quietly as he could and walked out to where Emile was, indeed, making breakfast for the centaurs. Thomas leaned heavily against his side, silent in the calm early morning.

“Good morning,” Emile said quietly.

“I appreciate you so much,” Thomas said in return.

Emile huffed out a quiet laugh, reaching back to ruffle up Thomas’s hair.

“The farrier comes today,” Thomas said, a yawn making him pause before he could keep speaking. “You and Remy aren’t quite due, but do you want to go ahead and get reshod anyway?”

Emile considered, and then shrugged. “Might as well. If we will be staying here for the foreseeable future, lining up with this farrier’s schedule seems a good idea.”

“I wish I knew them before now and could know what they’d be like,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “I guess after today we’ll know.”

“He doesn’t tend to be too bad,” Roman said, apparently awake now and listening to their conversation. “Your biggest problem is going to be with Panic at the Everywhere.”

Thomas had guessed as much. Logan would need a bit of extra care to be sure his legs weren’t jostled too much, but Virgil was who he was most concerned about. He was by far the flightiest of the centaurs, and did not like strangers. Especially strangers touching him. And the farrier would be touching his feet, while Virgil tended to kick when nervous. It all didn’t add up to a great time.

But Thomas had been getting a bit worried about Virgil’s hooves. He certainly could get himself around well, but he wasn’t walking quite right, and Thomas worried he might have a problem that would only get worse with time.

“Or he could just leave me alone again,” Virgil said, his tone tinged with defensiveness.

Thomas pursed his lips. He went over to Virgil’s stall.

“I’m supposed to keep you safe and healthy,” Thomas started.

Virgil scowled immediately.

“I’ve been noticing that you can’t step flat on your hooves, and I’m worried that they might hurt you if they aren’t cared for.”

“I don’t care what kind of nice words you wrap it in, I’m not letting some stranger come in here and cut parts of me off.” Virgil crossed his arms and turned his back on Thomas.

Thomas’s mouth dropped open. That was. A way. To see it. “I mean… technically that’s how it works, but your hooves are just like your hair, or your fingernails. It won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t care, I don’t like it, and I won’t stand for it.”

“I’m almost certain you’ll feel better after it’s done,” Thomas tried coaxing. “It has to be awkward to walk and run like you have been.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil insisted, still with his back turned to Thomas. He stamped one hoof against the floor of his stall.

“You don’t have to throw a tantrum,” Roman said snappishly. “Everyone gets their hooves trimmed and gets shoes at one point or another.”

“I don’t want to!” Virgil yelled, officially breaking the calm morning atmosphere. “I’m fine without shoes, I never had to have them! I can still run, I can still carry someone, and I can give a smoother ride than just about any damn person without shoes.”

“Virgil,” Logan says. Just his name, but Virgil seems to deflate slightly.

“Could we compromise?” Thomas tries. “Will you let the farrier look at your feet, and trim them so you can walk properly, and unless it’s medically necessary you don’t have to wear shoes.”

Virgil turns to look at him, suspicion clear in his eyes. He grimaces. “Fine. I’ll try. But no promises.”

Emile came by then, passing out plates.

“I guess I’ll go get my own breakfast,” Thomas said. “I should be back before the farrier arrives.”

••^*^••

The farrier drove up to the stable in a large truck, the back of which was covered in tools. Thomas went out to meet him and see if he needed any help.

“Hey there,” the man said cheerfully. “I heard there was a new groom.”

“Thomas,” he said, holding out a hand and smiling. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. The guy seemed nice.

“Jerry,” the farrier responded, shaking his hand firmly. “Just let me set up a little and then bring them out one at a time. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“There’s actually two more centaurs,” Thomas said. “They were shod last about three and a half weeks ago, but I figured I’d get them all done at once.”

Jerry started doing some things with his tools, setting up. “Huh. Alright, I think I can manage that. Five of em shouldn’t run me out of time, so long as they’re well behaved.”

“Uh, six,” Thomas corrected.

Jerry turned to look at him with a reluctant grimace. “I’m sure you’ve experienced that that little black one is fuckin crazy. Last time I managed to actually touch his feet we had to hold him down with about six men, and even then one of em went home with a nasty bruise.”

Thomas winced slightly. “Yeah… well, I’m worried about his hooves. I guess he hasn’t been getting very regular care for them.”

Jerry laughed drily. “Not much ‘care’ you can give one as jumpy as that.”

“I’d still like us to try today,” Thomas said.

Jerry sighed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll try. But I’ll be charging a fee for dangerous circumstances, and another for canceling on my other customer today. I certainly won’t be making it there in time.”

Thomas nodded firmly. “Thank you, Jerry. I appreciate it.”

Jerry waved him off, continuing to set up. “You go ahead and make sure he’s got on a tight harness and blinders. Call over some more guys for when he flips his shit.”

Thomas hesitated.

Jerry scoffed. “What, unless you’re intending to sedate him for it?”

“I’ll do my best to keep us safe,” Thomas promised.

He started heading back to the stable, feeling the doubtful stare follow him.

Once inside, he went to Logan first. Deal with the small problem, then all the (hopefully) easy ones, and finally tackle what seems like it’ll be a monster of a task.

“Would you be ok with going first?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t mind,” Logan said, straightening slightly.

Thomas opened his stall. Of the centaurs that had been here before he showed up, only Virgil seemed willing to let himself in and out of his own stall. Patton would do it if he thought he had permission, but Roman and Logan always had to be let out by Thomas. It was odd, but Thomas didn’t want to push on something he could easily do for them.

With a warning to the farrier, and Thomas standing beside watching, it actually goes quite smoothly. When he got back in the stable, Logan even said that it didn’t hurt his legs any more than they already hurt. Which, well, ideally Logan would be in no pain, but no increase in pain is pretty good too.

The others go easily as well. Turns out Patton didn’t wear shoes very much, just kept up with trimming. It made sense, since he didn’t do much running around, and when he did it was on soft grass.

A few hours later, everyone had been seen except for Virgil. Jerry was off taking a break for a bit while Thomas prepared Virgil for the shoeing.

“It’s your turn next,” Thomas says gently. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”

Virgil was twitchy. Had been since Remy went, with Remy being the last one other than him. He shifted and flinched at every tiny sound or movement near him.

Virgil looked at Thomas, fear, and the difficulty he was having fighting it, plain on his face. His hands grip around his arms.

“I— I probably shouldn’t be able to see it,” Virgil rasped out. “But don’t put something over my whole head!”

“It’s ok,” Thomas said soothingly. “I’m not gonna do something like that.”

He considered for a long few seconds. He really didn’t like putting blinders on centaurs. It felt dehumanizing. Oh!

“What if you put on one of the hoodies and pull the hood up and forward? It’ll cover the sides of your vision, and it’ll be hard for you to look back at your hooves, but there will still be the whole front open for you.”

Virgil blinked, stilling momentarily as he thought about the suggestion. “You… really? Just a hood?”

Thomas shrugged. “I mean, unless you want something different. The problem here is that you’re scared of what will happen, so forcing you isn’t going to help, I want to work with you, and make it less scary.”

Virgil looked at him like he was insane. “What, so you aren’t going to harness and hobble me?”

“Not if I can help it,” Thomas said with a small smile.

Virgil gestured towards the wall of the barn, or rather, through it to where he knew the farrier was. “He’s never gonna go along with that!”

“I’ll handle him,” Thomas promised. “You just tell me what you need.”

Virgil bit his lip, frowning doubtfully. He crossed his arms, turning half away.

“It would help if I knew what he was doing. Like… like you did with the brushing.” Virgil mumbled, not looking back at Thomas.

Thomas was glad for the confirmation that his rambling at them had been actually helpful. “I can explain what he’s doing, so you don’t have to look, and you’ll still know what’s happening.”

Virgil nodded stiffly, his hand coming up to his mouth. He chewed on his thumbnail, his gaze starting to look a bit distant.

It wasn’t ideal that he was learning dissociation from Logan, but if it could get him through a rough thing, Thomas wasn’t going to protest. Yet.

“Is there anything else that could help?” Thomas asked gently.

Virgil shrugged, and shivers ran over his flanks.

“Alright, let me get that hoodie and then we’ll go outside, ok?”

Virgil just shrugged again, but he didn’t seem able to stop twitching.

Once Virgil had on the hoodie with the hood pulled up, Thomas handed him a halter. He still had to have halters on the centaurs whenever he left the stable with them, which felt ridiculous.

He led Virgil out, feeling the slightest tremble through the lead.

“It’s alright,” he reassured, bringing Virgil over to the truck. “I’ll be right here the whole time. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”

Virgil gave a jerky nod, squeezing his crossed arms tighter around his chest.

“Oh hell no!” Jerry said loudly, coming back from his break.

Virgil flinched, his stance stiffening.

“I am not working on that centaur with only a fucking halter! He slips right out of those! You may be new, but I’ve dealt with him before, and this will not work. One of us is going to get kicked in the face before he runs all the way to the end of the property before anyone can get a rope over him.”

“It’ll be ok,” Thomas said firmly. “I’ve been working with the centaurs and it will be fine.”

Jerry scowled at him. “You think you’re a fucking centaur whisperer or some shit?”

“Yes,” Thomas said intensely.

The farrier’s face twisted unpleasantly. “Yeah, she would hire a delusional fool,” he muttered under his breath. “Look, if I try with this one and he starts flipping his shit, I’m leaving. And I’m still billing till the end of the day.”

“Deal,” Thomas said immediately. It wasn’t exactly his money to promise, but at the same time, he hadn’t gotten in trouble for spending too much yet.

“But I’m not going within a yard of him till you hobble the feet I don’t have to be touching.”

“It’s fine…” Virgil whispered.

Thomas looked up to see Virgil’s face was red with shame. Well, there went any good feeling he had left for Jerry. Officially in the asshole book now.

Reluctantly, he went to get a hobble.

Virgil got even more stiff and trembly with his legs hobbled. It must be nerve-wracking, tied in place with someone doing something scary to him.

Thomas stroked his hand along Virgil’s side. “It’s alright, you’ll be ok.”

Jerry finally approached, pulling up one of Virgil’s back hooves and pinning it between his legs. Virgil’s leg twitched and moved, but not enough to pull it free from the farrier’s grasp.

“There you go,” Thomas soothed. “You’re doing great. He’s just gonna take a pick and clean your hoof first. Just like normal.”

The farrier picked out Virgil’s hoof very quickly, quicker than Thomas could. He motioned to Thomas to come closer and look.

“Well, he’s obviously not wearing shoes right now,” Jerry said. He pointed around the wall of the hoof. “You can see it’s definitely overgrown, I’m surprised he isn’t limping around. But see here on the toe, he’s grinding his hooves against concrete. That’s the only way they’re relatively even. But that makes the sides way too overgrown, especially compared to the toe and the frog. I didn’t look too close as you brought him over, but he’s gotta be walking funny.”

Thomas nodded seriously. “Will a trimming help?”

“I mean, of course it’ll help. But what he needs is shoes. And he’ll have to get used to walking on hooves that are trimmed right. You’ll need to watch him to be sure he doesn’t sprain one of his legs while he adjusts.”

“I will,” Thomas promised.

The farrier reached for another tool.

Thomas set a hand on Virgil’s flank, trying to give some other touch for him to focus on. “Alright, bud, he’s got his hoof knife and he’s going to start trimming the dead parts of the frog.”

There was a strangled, distressed sound from Virgil, and his leg pulled in the farrier’s grip.

“Don’t you dare try and kick me,” Jerry muttered darkly, trying to move as quickly as he could on Virgil’s hoof.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re alright,” Thomas said soothingly, stroking along his side, which was beginning to feel damp with sweat. “It’s starting to look better already. Just getting the dead bits off. He’s working on cleaning up your sole now. He won’t cut any live parts, just the overgrown bits. Just like trimming fingernails.”

Virgil was trembling beneath his hand. Thomas leaned heavily against his side. He seemed to feel better when Logan squished him, maybe the smaller pressure Thomas could provide would still be helpful.

“You’re doing great, Virge,” Thomas praised. “Doing real well. He’s gonna take clippers now and trim the wall of your hoof. We’re getting close to done with this one. You’re doing so well.”

And it was going well, until Thomas was too focused on Virgil to notice the farrier switching to the rasp. At the first movement, Virgil yanked his hoof back.

“What’s that?!!” Virgil yelled, his voice high and stressed.

“Shhh, shh, it’s ok,” Thomas said, trying to calm the suddenly much more tense atmosphere. “It’s a rasp, it’s alright, it just helps to smooth things out.”

Jerry grumbled something as he picked up Virgil’s hoof again, gripping it right between his thighs as he tried again.

A high, animalistic whine escaped Virgil’s throat.

Thomas moved over to his front. “Hey, hey, look at me, ok? Everything’s fine. This is the last step of the trimming for this hoof. You’ve been doing so well. I’m so proud of you. It’ll all be ok.”

“It feels weird, I don’t like it!” Virgil gritted out.

“I know,” Thomas said sympathetically. “I know it doesn’t feel good. But it won’t take long. He’s almost done with that hoof already. And you’re doing so well.”

Virgil’s face was screwed up, his eyes shut tight. If he wasn’t wearing a hoodie, his fingernails would surely be cutting into the skin of his arms with how tightly he was gripping them. As it was, Thomas was still worried about finger-shaped bruises.

“There.” Jerry dropped Virgil’s hoof.

Virgil’s eyes shot open, and he stomped that foot against the ground. His scowl didn’t leave.

“I hate this.”

“I know it doesn’t feel good,” Thomas said. “But it’s really important for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Virgil grumbled something Thomas couldn’t quite hear as Jerry picked up his other back leg.

It was an achingly slow process, painful for all of them, to get the rest of Virgil’s hooves trimmed. But they did get through it. Eventually.

“Alright, now he said you really do need shoes,” Thomas said gently, again coming to stand in front of Virgil and catch his gaze. “This bit should be easier. It’ll take a bit longer, but most of it will be him over there on the side of his truck getting the shoes ready. So he won’t have to touch you so much.”

Virgil nodded miserably. His face was a blotchy mess now, with a few tear tracks he hadn’t yet swiped at.

“Why don’t you talk to me?” Thomas offered. “Let’s talk about something and just focus on that and not the farrier.”

Virgil shrugged.

“Well, maybe let’s get to know each other a little better. I’m 25, um, I don’t have any siblings. I do have several aunts and uncles though, my parents didn’t really carry on the tradition of big families.”

“I’m 8…” Virgil mumbled. “But I’m 9 in the fall, I’m not a colt anymore.”

Thomas blinked, a bit confused. “Well, of course not.”

Virgil nodded, justified.

As far as Thomas knew, centaurs were adults at 5. Or at least counted as adults. Some five year old centaurs he’d seen seemed more like older teens. But he wasn’t the one whose opinion was important.

“I don’t really know anything about siblings,” Virgil continued. “I was brought here a little before I turned 4, and I didn’t know of any before that.”

“So you’ve been here for close to five years?” Thomas asked. “Wait, aren’t centaurs supposed to stay with their parents till age 5?”

Virgil nodded. “There’s like, a lot of exceptions to that. Most people don’t get that lucky.”

“Oh,” Thomas said, an odd twist in his stomach. But this wasn’t about him, this was about distracting Virgil. “So, how has it been growing up here?”

Virgil gritted his teeth. “Awful. Some of the stories Patton and Logan tell are worse, but this sure isn’t a nice place to be.”

Thomas wasn’t sure if he was doing particularly well at distracting Virgil, or just being a particularly nosey and rude conversation partner.

“I wish I could make it better,” Thomas said.

Virgil shrugged. “You do your best.”

Thomas frowned. “My best isn’t good enough when you’re still miserable.”

“Well, what else are you supposed to do?” Virgil asked. “Not much you can. You may be human, but on the human social ladder you’re pretty much on the bottom. Uh… no offense.”

“You’re fine,” Thomas said. He sighed heavily. “I feel like there’s something I can do, and should be doing, I just don’t know what.”

“Well… last time the farrier actually did anything to my hooves,” Virgil said. “I was in like three different harnesses, and hobbles, and a fucking bag over my head. And then when I freaked out they kept sticking ropes all over me, and a bunch of humans were yelling and sitting on me and pulling me around. So. What you’ve already done is a pretty big improvement.”

Thomas grimaced at the story. “I just can’t believe it got that bad in the first place. You know, I have some experience with Remy and Emile, but like, they lived with my aunt for years, and as far as I know she was nice to them, and then they came to me when she passed away, and… I guess I just didn’t think that people really treated centaurs as badly as some of the horror stories.”

Virgil just shrugged. “This place is all I really know, so…”

“What about when you were still with your parents? Do you remember much from back then?”

“Well, a lot of the time I was just kinda in a stall. I think we lived on a farm, and my parents still had work and things. Sometimes I’d be let out into a field, and that was really nice. There were a couple other centaurs there, one or two foals and some old ones. I didn’t really see the humans there very much, or I don’t remember it anyway.”

“Sounds like a pretty lonely childhood,” Thomas said sadly.

Virgil just shrugged again. “Why don’t you tell me about yours instead then.”

Jerry was coming back with a ready shoe.

“One of the shoes is ready,” Thomas said. “It should be fairly quick to put on. There will be a strange hissing sound when it first goes on, and he’s going to hammer in nails, but they won’t hurt, and you’ll be ok. I can tell you some more about me while it’s going on.”

Virgil tensed up again, rigid and trembly. He scowled, but nodded.

“So my parents both came from pretty big families, and I was the first grandchild, so I had a lot of adults around when I was little,” Thomas said.

The muscles in Virgil’s leg bunched as the shoe was pressed against his hoof, and he winced hard.

“Then when I started to get more cousins, the attention got more spread out. But Aunt Patty still came over to visit all the time. She was Mom’s sister, the one who first had Remy and Emile. I would visit sometimes when I got just a bit older, like 10 or something, and I would get to ride them around. I was… kind of an idiot back then, and I hadn’t really realized that they were people too. I’m not sure Aunt Patty did either.”

Virgil slowly began to relax after Jerry let his hoof down again.

“Or wait,” Thomas said. “Maybe it was only Emile back then. I know Remy’s younger. Sometimes childhood memories get just a little blurry together. I ended up getting to be kinda friends with them both by the time I was a teenager. When I moved out from my parents house I went to live with Aunt Patty actually. She always said I was her favorite nephew. That’s why she left me the house and all when she passed away.”

Jerry seemed to have done extra prep work before bringing out the first shoe, because he was returning much sooner this time with the second.

“Here comes the farrier again,” Thomas warned. “Just like last time. You’ll do great.”

Virgil nodded shakily. “Keep talking? Please.”

“Yeah, of course,” Thomas said. “Let’s see, um, have I ever told you that Emile has a therapy license?”

Virgil shook his head, biting down on his lip as the new shoe was placed against his hoof.

“He does,” Thomas continued. “Aunt Patty had an anxiety disorder. I mean, I do too, but I’ve had an Emile around for longer to help me. Turns out centaurs can get therapy certifications. It’s a bit closer to like, a support dog as far as paperwork is concerned, but Emile really liked the idea, and he has a whole bookshelf back at home of psychology books and I bet if they allowed centaurs to do the same certification test for human therapists he’d pass. He’s really been a lifesaver. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Thomas had to pause to switch the hobbles from Virgil’s front legs to his back ones.

“When I was a younger teen,” Thomas said. “I used to think of him like he was another one of my uncles. He was always taking care of me whenever I visited, and we both really cared about each other. Just about anything I know about centaurs and what they like and what they don’t I learned from him. Remy was more standoffish until a few years ago. He’s not much of a fan of humans and the whole being owned thing, which like, of course not! But it made it a bit harder for us to become friends.”

Jerry was back again with another shoe.

“You’re getting real close to being done, Virgil. I’m real proud of how well you’re doing, especially since it’s so hard,” Thomas said earnestly.

He chattered on about random things, interspersing praises for Virgil, until the farrier finally finished with the last shoe.

Virgil lifted his legs awkwardly. “Ugh, they’re heavy and weird.”

“I guess you took ‘centaur whisperer’ literally, huh?” Jerry said to Thomas. “I mean, I can’t deny it worked. You’ll never get that one to stand still without jitters, but still, that was damn impressive.”

Thomas tried to smile. It was really all of Virgil’s effort making the difference. And like, not being rampantly abused the whole time.

Jerry grinned mischievously. “Well, I’m outta here. Still gonna charge you through the end of the day.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest. His focus was on Virgil, not cost.

“Can you walk?” Thomas asked as the truck started to pull away.

Virgil stepped forward, frowning down at his hooves. “Yeah, it’s just weird.”

Thomas unclipped the halter and laid it over his shoulder with the hobble, instead holding out a hand for Virgil to take if he chose. “I can help you inside, and then you can get brushed down if you want.”

Virgil’s coat was rather wet now with nervous sweat, and it couldn’t be comfortable.

“I can walk on my own,” Virgil said, not accepting the offered hand. He didn’t stumble, but he definitely was walking oddly, raising his hooves high between each step. “And I want to stay with Logan for a bit.”

Thomas easily acquiesced. “Absolutely. Whatever you want. You deserve it, after all that.”

Virgil offered him a small, tight smile. “Thanks, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled back.

It had been a success. An exhausting success, but still a success.

#my own work #centaur au #sanders sides #virgil sanders #character!thomas

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