Chapter Text
Fripp has been sending you on missions since the beginning of December now. Most of them have been about stopping drakonium shipments from coming in and out of Jorvik, a repetitive kind of mission, you think.
Jay is usually the most likely to be riding next to the shipment, looking around the scenery with immense boredom, which grows even greater when she sees you. You must admit, you feel the same way. It’s like she says the same things, every single time. Not even a slight change in her tone, not even a slight change in the way she tries to fight you. Some clones of her start taunting you, and you almost immediately see which Jay is the real Jay–she hasn’t perfected the colour scheme of the clones yet–you then dodge the fake Jays and try to zap the real Jay, which is usually enough for her to scoff and abandon the Dark Core goon with the shipment for you to have your fun with.
Then, of course, you have a round of thrilling conversation with the Dark Core goon of the day, who you swear looks the exact same each and every single time. The probability of the goon being the same goon as before is very small, though, because you usually knock the poor chap out for at least two days, after which he usually doesn’t know who he is and ends up starting up a bakery somewhere on Jorvik. Freaky shit.
You then stabilise the shipment and get the druids to deal with it. It’s honestly getting really boring.
Or it would get boring, were it not for the hope of seeing Sabine instead of Jay on your mission. It never happens though, and it seems you are stuck with Jay.
It’s just that, destroying drakonium shipments would be more fun if Sabine were there, and you’re not even afraid of admitting it. Ever since the Equestrian Festival all you can think about is chasing her around Jarlaheim. It was the first time in a long time when you felt actual thrill and excitement.
The fact that she was obviously waiting for you every day made things even better.
You haven’t really interacted with her since. She asked you something, though. During the festival. She asked something of you, rather, and you didn’t do it. You thought it would be something petty–like, letting out the pigs on Sunfield farm. But no. She asked you to actually make a statement so bold they wouldn’t know what hit them. And you said no, and she did what she said she would, she pretended like your conversation never happened.
But you keep thinking about it, you keep thinking about the what ifs that whole conversation held. You keep thinking about how gripped you felt, your entire focus on her, and how she snatched all of that away the moment you refused her proposal.
So now you’re back, bored as ever by everything.
After a short scoffing session with Jay (which unsurprisingly ended with her trotting away and the shipment left behind), you started to question whether or not Jay actually cares about anything that is going on. Was she a Dark Rider for the benefits? Did she have free cafeteria? Or perhaps free polishing for her nightmarish horse? Premiums?? A wage???
Anyhow, after the meetings with Jay, you usually ride back to Moorland, and today you really needed to get back in time, seeing how you signed up for the evening rounds around the stable.
The horses were already in their stalls by the time you managed to get back. The body heat of them warmed up the barn nicely, your frozen cheeks stinging from the sudden temperature shift.
You liked the routine of getting your horse unready after a long day, especially in the wintertime. Moorland is usually less busy this time of the year, especially so close to the holidays. You never have to go anywhere during the holidays.
After the evening feed has been distributed among the horses, you make the evening rounds around Moorland Stables. You dig deep in your pocket to get out your secret stash of cigarettes. You don’t usually smoke, but there’s just something about winter and cigs.
You make sure to be off stable grounds before you light it, and when you do, you keep your eyes open for anything unusual. You make sure the gates close properly, and you make sure there isn’t any insane rider out and about this late in the evening.
You’re about halfway through your cigarette and your round around Moorland Stables when you see a single boat reach the shore of the beach, right next to the riding camp. You can’t see much, only the outline of the person getting out of the boat and swinging a big backpack over their shoulder. The snow blinds your vision in the glowing brightness of the moon, and you squint your eyes to try to make out who the person could be. They’re in winter clothes–obviously–so it’s hard to even tell if it’s a man or a woman you’re seeing.
You inch a bit closer. The person is now covering the boat with some sort of cloth, then they turn around and oh.
Sabine turns around and looks right at you.
There’s silence, for a couple of seconds, then, “What do you want?” Sabine asks frankly, not even surprised to see you.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, failing to say anything else, deciding to busy yourself with a drag from your nearly finished cigarette.
Sabine’s eyes follow the movement, expression unreadable as ever. “None of your business. Move along, little Soul Rider.”
“Where’s Khaan?” you wonder out loud, completely ignoring what she just said, secretly delighting in the fact that she seems even more agitated by your presence than previously.
Sabine scoffs and starts walking away from the beach, passing by you just an inch too close. You follow.
“Seriously, where is he? It’s obvious you’re coming from the Oil Rig, and you usually come with him.”
“And how would you know that?” she taunts, her eyes fixed on the road ahead of her. Is she heading to Silverglade?
“When you kidnapped Justin you had Khaan with you,” you explain. “I don’t know how the Oil Rig would be a healthy environment for a horse but I just assumed he lived there.”
“You’re right, it’s no place for a horse,” she murmurs quietly, apparently very much decided on not answering your question.
You throw your cigarette butt in a close rubbish bin, quickening your steps after to catch up to Sabine. “So… you’re not answering me?”
“I don’t owe you anything, Y/N.” she zips up her coat, and suddenly you too are aware of how cold it is outside. By now you’re almost at Steve’s farm, and Sabine isn’t slowing down.
You stay quiet. You’re not even sure why you’re following your mortal enemy around like a lost little puppy, but you can’t help it, can you? You’re too interested now. “Will you atleast–”
Sabine immediately cuts you off, stopping sharply in front of you. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but we’re not friends. What happened at the Equestrian Festival shall stay there, as I promised. Understood?” she asks, but it’s obvious she’s not actually looking for an affirmative from you, as she begins walking again at an even more unforgiving pace.
Why does she think you care about the festival still? And why isn’t she slowing down? And why are you following her? Why are you like this? Are you crazy? She’s the enemy ! You should turn back. Oh no, the Spymaster probably already knows and the druids will accuse you of treason in like, two seconds.
You turn around suddenly. You start walking back towards Moorland, not even daring to look back because what the hell were you thinking. What is wrong with you?? She could’ve trapped you! If anything, that must have been her plan all along!
You fidget with your lighter in your pocket, and when you finally decide to look back, Sabine is long gone. You feel shame creeping up on you. What were you thinking? Just because she showed an interesting sort of humanity during the festival means you’re suddenly friends? She’s right, you’re really not friends. And she’s right, what happened at the festival should stay there. You shouldn’t even think about it.
When you finally get back to Moorland Stables, all you want to do is go up to your tiny little room and hide under the covers for eternity. It’s crazy how desperate one can get when a random person, no, an enemy shows humanity to one so clearly one forgets oneself.
Oneself being you, of course.
But you do wonder what Sabine is up to. You’re used to her lurking in the shadows, that’s kind of her thing. What you do not understand is why Khaan was nowhere near her, and also why she didn’t rush to explain her horse’s unusual absence. It’s like she uses Khaan like a shield, making it increasingly more obvious how threatened you should feel by him, and in turn, by them. Which, in hindsight isn’t all that wrong, that horse is massive, and also pretty damn impressive if you say so yourself.
However, you won’t find answers to your questions tonight, now will you? You go to sleep with a good dose of embarrassment to keep you company.
The next morning you awake to wind so harsh and strong you feel as though you’re in the middle of a snowstorm…
…looking out of your window, you realise that feeling has proven to be legitimate. There’s a definite snowstorm happening in Jorvik right now, according to your phone, and well, your eyes. You can see Thomas and Justin Moorland bundled up in layers of coats and scarfs, shovelling snow away from the front door of the main stable.
Aideen’s love, there’s at least 30 inches of snow mounted in front of the barn’s door!
That realisation is what makes you dress yourself and run out to help the two men. “Morning!” you greet them.
“Well, it sure is some morning alright.” Thomas Moorland says good-naturedly. There’s something so inherently comforting about this man and you can’t explain what it is. He is always so calm and collected, and very wise as well. Even now, in such dreadful weather he can smile and act like it’s the most beautiful morning ever.
“Y/N, could you go inside the barn and see if the horses are alright? Also, I’m pretty sure a slat broke right in half on the roof. Can you check how severe the damage is from inside? Just so I can call someone to fix it in time. Oh, but no one in their right mind would get out in such weather to fix the roof, now would they?” Justin is the exact opposite of his father. He worries, and for no reason as well. You catch Thomas giggling to himself at Justin’s apparent distress.
“I’ll check, sure. I’ll give them their morning feed while I’m at it.” you smile, and Thomas and Justin try to keep the barn’s door open for you as you try to force yourself inside. The cold obviously did its damage to the door, as the Moorlands immediately have to let go of it once you’re inside due to the immense amount of snow right outside, piling continously thanks to the storm getting heavier by the minute.
The horses seem to be doing just fine in the barn. You try to turn the light on, but you quickly realise there’s no power. You resort to the lighter in your pocket, even though its brightness isn’t nearly enough to properly light your way. It isn’t pitchblack inside, thankfully.
You make your way towards the end of the barn to your horse, checking each stall while you’re at it to see if each and every single horse is okay. They thankfully are, although a little impatient for their breakfast.
Your horse happily greets you, their face nuzzling into your left hand as you speak to them in a low voice, but then they keep looking at you as if they want you to look behind yourself, almost excited.
“What’s up, darling?” you ask them, but your horse just keeps neighing softly, pointing their face behind you. “Alright then, but if it’s a ghost you’re forbidden from treats for a month!” you warn, your horse snorting at your comment as you turn around, using your lighter to see better once again.
The stall in front of your horse’s is always empty. It’s kept up as a sort of emergency stall for sick horses and such. Now it isn’t empty, a big, dark horse occupies it, laying down in one of the inner corners. Glowing red eyes meet yours, and you feel a bit frozen in place.
Khaan is the horse in the stall, and right in front of him is a sleeping Sabine, leaning her head against his belly for comfort. You kind of just stand there, with Khaan’s eyes fixed on you. He isn’t exactly as threatening as he usually is, which is surprising. Sabine is sleeping soundly, eyebrows smooth and free from the constant frowning. She actually looks like a teenager, now.
You’re not really sure what to do. You aren’t exactly keen on walking in the stall and waking her–what if Khaan literally kills you, or what if she kills you? Oh, you’re really not good with things like this, and Khaan’s burning eyes on you aren’t helping. It’s fascinating how judging a horse can be.
You end up making a loud enough noise with your lighter for Sabine to wake up. “Oops, dropped it.” you say sheepishly. Her eyes open, and you’re brought back to last night’s embarrassment. Oh, you do hope she won’t mention it.
Sabine doesn’t look surprised by your presence, nor impressed by your way of waking her up. “I’ll be out in 20 minutes.” she says simply, as if that’s enough explanation for what she’s doing here.
“I doubt you will. There’s a snowstorm out there. It’s getting worse by the minute.” you busy yourself with getting out some of the feeding buckets for the horses.
“I can create fire with just my hands. I think I’ll manage.”
“And where will you go?” you inquire as you start mixing the morning feed for the horses.
“None of your business.” She stands up, and Khaan does the same, although there’s something weird about how he gets on his feet. Sabine notices that you noticed that.
“Well, is it my business what you’re doing here?” you start putting some of the feeding buckets inside the stalls, the horses happily getting to work on their breakfast.
“No, to be honest,” Sabine says, coming out of Khaan’s stall and leaning against it with her arms crossed in front of her.
“What does Khaan usually eat in the mornings?” you ask, getting out the spare bucket with the clear intention of making Khaan breakfast.
Sabine furrows her brows. “Soaked grain with some carrots.”
You set to work on that order, and once you’re done, you hand the bucket to Sabine. You’re not too sure about getting too close to Khaan yet. “Now it is my business what you’re doing here.”
Sabine looks at the grain then puts it inside Khaan’s stall for him to eat. “Because you made my horse breakfast?”
“Exactly. And I imagine you wouldn’t want the Moorlands to know you’re here, seeing as you kidnapped one of them that one time.”
Sabine chuckles a little bit at that, and you feel your eyebrows rise on your forehead at that reaction. “Fair enough…” she mutters, “I realise there’s a snowstorm. That’s why I came inside with Khaan around midnight, we wouldn’t have been able to make it back to the Oil Rig.” It feels strange how naturally Sabine talks to you about the Oil Rig, she doesn’t even seem to mind that you now know she’s planning to go back there. “So I just figured we could wait out the worst here and melt our way out early in the morning. What I didn’t realise was how adamant Justin Moorland is when it comes to shovelling snow. So I decided to wait a bit more.”
“What would you have done if he was the one to find you?”
“I kidnapped him once, I could have easily done it again.” she says, taunting, eyes fierce and almost… mischievous?
You snort. “He wouldn’t fall for your manipulation now.”
She hums, “Maybe, but you fell for it twice. That gives me enough reason to believe I could get in his head again if I desired.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“I said if I desired. I haven’t gotten such an assignment… yet.” She runs her polished fingers through Khaan’s mane, his braids messy and old. He seems… different, somehow. It’s obvious there’s something wrong with him, and in turn there’s something wrong with Sabine. She depends on him for protection, but now the horse looks weak and tired. Therefore, Sabine looks vulnerable.
You know you shouldn’t ask her directly about whatever is wrong with Khaan. There’s no way to tell what she would do. Asking out loud if Khaan is sick makes the already obvious even more obvious, and she would probably think you’d soon be on your way to tell the Soul Riders and the Druids that the weakness of Dark Core is Sabine and Khaan.
You would do that, for Aideen, wouldn’t you?
“Why are you taking him back to the Oil Rig?” you ask, but you’re not really expecting an honest answer.
Sabine busies her hands with rebraiding a strand of Khaan’s mane, but her hands stop suddenly. “Now that is really none of your business.”
You, again, feel like this could be the time to bring up how obviously bad Khaan is doing. Taking him back to the Rig would be straight up torture for him, and Sabine obviously knows that. You know she knows that because her expression is painful. And how she agreed with you about how terrible the Rig was for horses? Sabine obviously didn’t want to bring him back there, but she must have gotten the order from Mr. Sands or someone equally as dislikable.
So, you do the best you can without angering her. “He could stay.”
Sabine looks at you. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, he can stay here. Mr. Sands wouldn’t dare come look for him here.” you explain.
“How would you know that?”
“He has sworn it to me. He swore he would leave the Moorlands alone when I saved Justin.” you can see Sabine shaking her head, already dismissing the idea all-together.
“Mr. Sands doesn’t keep promises anymore.” she dismisses, grabbing her saddle pad and putting it on Khaan’s back. His eyes seem to dim at that, and you feel yourself wince.
“I disagree. This is his son and grandson we’re talking about. He swore to me. Leave Khaan here.”
Sabine turns to you and inches closer. Her eyes search yours, trying to figure out your motives but coming up short. You aren’t sure you know your motives, either.
“Why would I trust you with my horse?”
“Why would I trust you to keep what happened at the Equestrian Festival to yourself?” you counter.
She shakes her head. “That’s different. It wasn’t personal .”
“Why would you assume this is personal?”
She can’t say anything to that.