#you cannot tell me this man doesn't have a savior complex/compassionate streak a mile wide

[cthulhusstepmom]

The Horsegirl-ification of Gideon Coal

“Kremy, are you absolutely certain this is a good idea? I think it would be fairly obvious to anyone with a brain that these are simply mundane horses.” 

Leaning against the only mostly unstable temporary fence that the hands had constructed for this stretch, Kremy offers Frost a sharp toothed grin where he paces off to his right. 

“That’s the thing you gotta understand Frost: it doesn’t matter if they’re real or not. The kids will believe it and the parents will pay for it.” 

“Yeah and some people are just stupid plain man!” Gideon adds, leaning back on the inside of the fence.

“That’s exactly right! Even the halfway intelligent folks will pay just to see how fake they look.” 

Frost grumbles but seems to acquiesce, eyes turned away as the pattering sounds of bear feet and bare feet approach the paddock.

“Gricko! Did you bring what I asked for?”

“I did indeed, but first and most importantly-” the goblin pauses for dramatic effect. “Look at how precious Hootsie is with her little unicorn horn! Ooh aren’t you the most precious unicowlbear!” And she is precious, toddling behind her father with a bulging satchel and a headband with a unicorn horn attached to it. Allowing Gricko his moment, Kremy steps forward and retrieves the satchel from Hootsie, making a mental note along the lines of ‘mule and enforcer, pay in rats’. Within the satchel is a selection of wooden horns, ranging in length from about six inches to eighteen, each with varying texture, weight, and stain. 

“Gricko this is incredible! You did all of this last night?” Kremy asks, only half paying attention to any answer he may receive.

“I told you I was good with my hannnds Kremy.” He slurs slightly, wobbling just the smallest bit.

“I had taken that for a sexual euphemism. I apologize.” Frost says, taking one of the horns and examining it. 

“Well I did have a lot of Trice Melon.” 

“The fuck is a trice melon?” Gideon cocks his head.

“A try smellin deez nuts.”

“You’re fucking dead as soon as I’m over this fence you son of a bitch! I’ll kill you, you’re brain’s gonna splatter all over this fucking-”

“Gid Gid Gid!” Kremy placates with a hand to Gideon’s already heaving chest. “Gricko’s just tired, let’s not destroy all of Turblek’s or whatever his name is hard work and torch the paddock while we’re at it hmm? Frost, would you kindly take Gricko to bed?” 

“Yes, that would seem to be the best course of action. Come along Gricko, I’ll let you finish today’s sudoku puzzle.”

“Eugh you can keep it Frosty, you know I hate the number ones.”

Turning away, Kremy startles for a moment when he realizes his hand is still on Gideon’s chest; quickly dismisses how Gid hasn’t protested its placement. 

“Right, now we can get some fucking work done. You have the glue?” 

“Right here.” He smiles, gesturing to a glass filled with a viscous amber substance. “And I already tested it, it washes right out. Frosty may be missing a few patches of hair from tries one through four.” 

Kremy puzzles for a moment. “Where?”

“You don’t want to know man.”

The horses in the paddock are serene, grazing and mingling amongst each other with nary a care in the world. After a long week of travel they’ve certainly enjoyed the day of rest while carnies run to and fro setting up the tents and attractions. They’re a motley crew, ranging in size from a couple of ponies all the way up to a handful of old drafts. Kremy isn’t sure where most of them came from, being perfectly honest. 

When they’d first upgraded to wagons over tents he had allowed Gideon to guide the majority of the purchasing. Walking in lock step, trying to understand all the technical things he had to say; Offering his own input where it mattered and then haggling the price down as Gid loomed over his shoulder. He hadn’t had the slightest idea where to get horses beyond a livery stable and that wouldn’t do if they were to be moving long distances. Gid had disappeared into the crowd at a pub one night before returning with a grin and leading Kremy to an auction house on the edge of town. Kremy had felt like a sore thumb as they’d perused their options, Gideon occasionally stopping to run his hands over one horse or another, asking questions or sharing jokes that flew completely over his head. When it came to the actual auction, Gideon had leant down beside him, breath steaming in his ear as he instructed him what to bid, when to fold and when to press. That night they walked out with eight horses and two mules and, Gideon assured him, good deals on all of them.

Since then their little herd had grown, not from any auction house trip however. No, some days on his free nights, when he wasn’t tinkering with his rigged games, lounging in their shared wagon while Kremy did paperwork, or out on the hunt for a good time, Gideon would simply wander off. Never so abruptly that it would be hard to follow him necessarily, but gone all the same. And he’d come back with another horse. Usually it wouldn’t be much to look at, skinny or scarred up or old or lame. But over time and under Gideon’s watchful care, dull coats would turn glossy and haunted eyes would turn warm. 

So Kremy doesn’t need to know where they come from, only that they’re theirs now. 

Such a saccharine sentiment doesn’t do much to make this any easier however.

“Fuck!” he yelps, yanking his hand back as the little pony nips at him once again. “Would you kindly fucking stand still and let put the stupid horn on your stupid head!” 

If horses had eyebrows one of them would certainly be raised in defiance as the pony most decidedly does not stand still, kindly or otherwise.

“Woah what’s going on over here man?” 

“My patience is being tried.” Kremy tries not to sulk, defeated by an undersized horse.

He can see the laugh bubbling in Gid’s chest as he runs eyes over the situation. Hands covered in sticky glue, bleeding from a cut that feels worse than it looks, shirt certainly ruined, and a defiant pony staring him down like he’s the bad guy here.

“Alright Witch Stomper he’s had enough. C’mere let’s get you sorted.” And like magic the pony turns and trots up to his partner like a dog fed from the table; allowing him to affix the curling black horn to its forehead with little difficulty. 

“I’m telling you Gid something’s wrong with that animal, it has evil in its eyes.” He growls, straightening his clothes as best he can without sticking anything together. 

“Ah c’mon you kidding me? Stomper’s a good boy, he can just tell you’re not comfortable with him. Taking advantage of your inexperience, that's all man.” A single piercing blue eye glares into Kremy’s soul for just a moment too long before the pony tosses its head and moves off to continue whatever nefarious deeds it was in the midst of before Kremy came along. “C’mon we’ve only got a couple more to do.”

And so it seems. While Kremy was engaged in his battle of wills, Gid had gone through most of the other horses. Following close behind the larger man, all the while keeping a watchful eye for a vengeful pony, Kremy admires the ease that Gideon has with the animals. Hulking beasts eagerly offering their noses for a quick pat or snuffling into pockets for treats, letting this man walk among them and accepting him with zero hesitation. 

“Lady and Stormy should be it, you have the bag?” He hands the second to last horn over to Gid, offering the glue with it. “There we go, s’all right girl. It’s okay, it’s okay.” He continues, voice low and comforting as he approaches the mare.

Lady is their newest acquisition, or Gid’s newest acquisition to be more accurate. A pinto with patches of russet and a bold white stripe running up her face. She’s a pretty thing, even to Kremy’s untrained eye, but she’s skittish and along her coat he can see patterns of scars that would probably point to something if he knew more about horses. She’s been in their company for about a month but she’s still tentative at best and downright flighty at worst. None of the hands can even get close to her when it’s time to get hitched up and ready to go, leaving her instead solely to Gid and their wagon at the head of the train, paired up in a team with an old mule Kremy thinks is named Rusty, one of the originals that they’d purchased at the auction.

Looking at her now you wouldn’t know it, with how calm she is as the horn is carefully glued to her head.

Gideon looks over his shoulder, stroking the mare’s flank while the glue sets up.

“C’mere, give her a pat.” He holds out a hand, beckoning insistently. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Gid, you know horses don’t like me.” Kremy crosses his arms in front of himself, it’s something in his gator heritage he’s sure. The scent of a predator or some such thing. 

Gid huffs a laugh.

“This look like a horse to you? You are looking at a 100% bona fide unicorn.” 

Kremy huffs if only to stifle a laugh. “Gods are you stupid.” 

Still he moves forward. Tentatively at first but when the mare stays in place a small bit more confidence creeps into his step. He’s just a step past Gideon when Lady blows a worried breath through her nostrils, pinning her ears back and pawing at the soft summer grass with one hoof. Hurriedly he begins to take a step back, only to collide with a wall of warmth as Gid steps forward behind him. It stuns him for a moment, robs him of words as his head is filled with hot air and thoughts of warm laughs and cigar smoke. 

“That’s it, it’s okay.” 

Kremy’s not sure if he’s talking to him or the horse. 

“Gimme your hand.” As if saying no was an option at this point.

His hand fits well in Gideon’s but that’s no surprise; he’s watched those clever hands long enough to do the arithmetic. His brain nearly leaks out of his ears like a poorly sealed shepherd's pie when he feels another hand on his waist, guiding him with gentle pressure to take another step forward; and another. Until he’s standing so close he can smell the scent of horse sweat and well oiled tack leather, a scent that follows Gideon. Gently, mostly of his own initiative after a little encouragement, he lays one hand on the flank of the mare, brushing over it with an almost delicate touch. When she doesn’t make any move to startle away he scratches through the short hairs of her hide like he would a dog. It’s relaxing, oddly: simply petting this animal, feeling the rise and fall of its great billowing lungs. Admiring the power of it, the beauty. Absorbing Gideon’s heat at his back. 

“Ain’t that something.” Kremy doesn’t look up, doesn’t need to, can feel a pair of dark eyes on his face. 

“You know Gid, horses aren’t really my pot of gumbo so to speak. But, I think I might come around to unicorns.”

anyone else notice that line at the end of ep. 48?

Kremy, approaching the unicorn, "What does Gid do?"

just me? amazing.