THE BEST LAID PLANS OF MICE AND MEN OFT' GO ASTRAY

Celebwen Telcontar: Here's a new chapter!

Balrog: Éowyn the Vampire Slayer!

Celebwen Telcontar: (looks oddly at Balrog)

Balrog: (sweatdrops)

Celebwen Telcontar: O… kay. Please read and review!


Buffy twirled the sword in her hand, clashing it with Xander's in a fierce strike-parry-strike pattern. She was in full contact with Éowyn, letting her mind-mate control her actions in order to learn the ancient Rohirric style of sword fighting. Oz, apparently with Boromir's help, had already set up a quintain for everyone's use in the track attached to the small farm Giles had bought with some funds from the Council, and now was fighting with Angel with longswords and round shields at least three feet across. Oz was wearing a large horn on a baldric, having said that it felt strange not to wear it. Boromir was obviously having a massive influence on the guitar player.

"Come on, Cordelia," Drusilla was saying, moving around the former cheerleader in circles and staying on her toes. "Keep moving. You can't stop in mid-battle; you'll get killed."

"Damnit!" the brown-haired former English princess snapped, slashing with the gladius she held. "Don't you think I'm trying, you damned bloodsucker?"

"Be calm. Anger only makes you less perceptive to your surroundings."

"Calm, my ass," Cordelia snarled in response, lashing out with the short sword in a few overhand chops, all deflected by the former queen of Rohan. "Why am I even here?"

"Because you're one of us," Drusilla said calmly.

"No I'm not! You lot are from some other place, I'm from England! I'm not one of you!"

"You are one of us," Giles said calmly, watching Oz and Angel as they fought and laughed. "You might be Cordelia daughter of Lear, but you are from this place and time. You were one of us before we became who we are now, and you are still one of us. I consider you a daughter, Cordelia."

"I thank you, my Lord Steward, for both myself and my kingdom," Cordelia said, the Princess of England once again taking over.

"And as my daughter, I must make sure you can defend yourself. This area draws evil to it, and you must be able to lead people in a crisis, as well as attack and defend."

"Yes, My Lord," Cordelia said, before turning back to Drusilla. Willow was waiting near the wall for Cordelia to be done with training so she could start. The red-head was reading The Silmarillion as avidly as a devoted monk reading the Bible.

The truck pulled into the old barnyard three miles out of town. From inside, the sounds of neighing, stamping and kicking could be heard.

"Watch out," the driver cautioned. "They've been a mite touchy."

"We understand," Buffy said, opening the door to the stable. She had made sure the stable was clean, and each stall had several inches of fresh hay strewn on the floor plus a full manger and water bucket. Her brother opened the truck's doors, lowered the ramp, and walked in, unfastening the halter rope for the first horse, a bay mare. Buffy walked up the ramp after Xander had led the Arabian mare into the stable, and unfastened a petite grey stallion.

After all the horses were in their stalls, the truck driver left.

"How do they look?" Giles asked. "I only know hunters and polo ponies."

"They're all healthy from a cursory inspection," Xander said, smiling. Buffy looked at Giles.

"Didn't your contact for the Arabians promise to send an unmanageable horse?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, the black stallion we had been expecting was stolen. His owner is a wealthy Afghani who has a minor connection to the Council and has given us the stallion's mother, the bay mare, and his and full sister, that black-point-dun foal, in compensation."

"Black point dun?" Giles asked, confused.

"Dark gold with black points."

"Points?"

"Mane, tail, and legs below the knees."

"Ah."

"The bay brood mare isn't Arabian," Buffy pointed out. "She's too tall and her tail's too low-set. I would say she's closer to the size and conformation of a Thoroughbred, though the black-point-dun filly has more Arabian characteristics, such as the arched neck, concave profile, and high-set tail."

"Yes, well," Giles said, removing his glasses and polishing them, "the horses from Abu Ishak have papers. Here they are." He handed her a large manilla folder with several sheafs of paper stapled together. She went through each one, looking for the mare and the filly. When she found them, the mare was named "Tiamat" and the filly was "Lilith", while her brother, the unmanagable missing stallion, was aparantly all black and was named "Devil".

"I don't know how these papers should look, since I'm unfamiliar with paperwork from this time," Buffy said, handing the folder with the pedegree papers back to her Watcher.

"Should we each choose a horse or two?" Cordelia asked.

"Yes. We'll be incorporating mounted fighting from now on," Oz replied.

Angel ran his hands over Tiamat's coat, the mare snorting and tossing her head. "You're a beauty, aren't you?" he asked her, then whispered to her in Sindarin. Tiamat calmed down, eyeing the vampire's hand as it found her halter. She snorted and tossed her head, Angel replying with gentle noises and running his hand over her cheek. She tried turning her head to look at him, but he moved with her, easily keeping out of tooth range. Eventually, she allowed him to groom her, and Tiamat was officially one of Angel's horses, his other a pretty sweet-tempered grullo Irish Hunter mare. Xander's primary horse was a mare, an ugly pale grey with a small jug head, a ewe neck, an evil temper, and a neigh that was more squeal than whinney. On the other hand, she was incredibly intelegent, which was proably why she kept getting out of her stall. She was massive, at least nineteen hands, and had thick, corded muscles. Her coat was almost pure white, but in the right shade of dusk or darkness, she seemed to shine like silver. Xander was certain that there was a small bit of Mearas blood in the massive, ill-tempered horse, probably very far back. She was intelegent enough, and her coat gleamed like a Mearas'. Suddenly, the vicious mare's teeth closed with a sound like a gunshot on the space Xander's hand had been seconds before. Xander glared at her, locking eyes with the vicious mare and murmuring in Rohirric. The mare backed up until she hit the back wall, baring her teeth in an equine sneer and whistling in anger. Xander deftly created a noose from a rope he had handy, tossing it expertly about the troublesome horse's neck. He pulled the rope taught, hanging on tightly before opening the door. The mare shot out like an arrow, Xander running behind her, using the rope to hold on. She eventually ended up in the inside practice arena, where he told everyone watching to ignore them.

Buffy walked back to the stables after her brother told her to ignore him and the silvery mare, ending in front of a handsome white stallion's stall. He was almost fourteen hands, just over four feet at the whithers, and looked to be pure Lipizanner. He was sweet, nuzzling her gently when she came close to him. She quickly named him Sulnithroch, a Sindarin translation of Windfola, the horse who had borne her and Merry on the Pelennor Fields. She got a bridle and an English style saddle from the new tack room, fitting them on him. He was very calm when she tacked him up, and followed her, nuzzling her back once. She went to the opposite side of the barn from where Xander was training his silvery mare, and rode him around the paddock a few times. Sulnithroch had fluid movement and grace, springing gently from step to step. At one point, she gave him a specific signal with her heels, and was rewarded with a perfect capriole. When she put Sulnithroch back in his stall, she groomed him to within an inch of his life, and the stallion nearly purred, leaning into the brush strokes. She left him with a mixture of oats and grain for a treat, and filled his trough with cool, clear water.

The Vampire Slayer went down the aisle, and found a mare who was part Percheron, from her dapple-grey coat and imposing size. She had intelegent eyes, perfect conformation, and the crest, profile, and high-set tail of an Arabian. Buffy's eyebrows went up, having never seen an Arabian hybrid of such size before. When the former Princess of Ithilien brought her hand close to the Arab-Percheron mare, the horse nearly squashed it against the stable door by leaning against it. She passed the mare on, figuring the dappled silvery horse was too tall for her. A few stalls down was a black mare, small and sturdy. She looked to be a senseble American Quarter Horse, maybe with a bit of Thoroughbred in her. Buffy ran her hands over the black horse's hide, finding it silky smooth. The mare was very sweet-tempered, and sniffed her pockets for a treat. Not finding one, she was content to lean her jaw on Buffy's shoulder. The Vampire Slayer quickly named her Léofa, which meant Beloved in Rohirric before tacking her up and taking her outside and through her paces. Léofa proved to be capable and intelegent, as well as fast and had the jackrabbit acceleration common to quarter horses.

After working through her paces, Buffy groomed Léofa and gave her a ration of grain mixed with a little bit of molasas and some brown sugar before heading off for her evening patrol.


Celebwen Telcontar: What do you think?

Balrog: Interesting. Will this turn into another Crossover?

Celebwen Telcontar: I doubt it, unless Tiamat and Lilith pester me about it.

Balrog: It would be interesting to see Tiamat's colt in this story.

Celebwen Telcontar: Don't hold your breath. Please review, people!

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