The Horse Is a Surprise
Title: The Horse Is A Surprise
Author: Natalia Carter
Fandom: RtED . . . duh :)
Summary: Follow-up to "Night Terrors;" sort of ties up some loose ends.
Feedback: Adored, on-list or at firstname.lastname@example.org
Series/Sequel: Sequel to "Night Terrors" available on my page
Web Page: http://members.dencity.com/carter1013
Disclaimer: Okay, so there's this really neat guy, Katzenburg. And he owns
this studio, DreamWorks. And they came up with all these awesome
characters. So, by the law of detachment, the characters are not mine.
Nothing original here, folks.
Warnings: Allusions to major MiguelOuchies
Notes: Follows "Night Terrors," then makes a neat little segueway back into
the movie. Pretty cool, huh?
Tulio curled up in the bow of the boat, wrapped his arms around himself, and
glared at the big gray horse happily devouring their food. Their escape
from Cortez's ship had actually been rather anticlimactic. He and Miguel
had slipped away, largely unnoticed . . .
Except by the damn horse. Altivo, or whatever his name was. The horse had
followed Miguel off the boat, leaping into the ocean, and of course
Miguel--Tulio's big-hearted Miguelito--had lept to save him.
So now they had a horse in the boat. Splendid.
Tulio growled angrily, but his face softened when he saw Miguel huddled
under one of the seats, trying to keep out of the rain. It had been three
days since Tulio had rocked a beaten and bloody Miguel in the brig of
Cortez's ship. A guard had been posted outside the brig for two nights, and
Miguel could barely move. So Tulio held off the escape, stuck it out for
two more days. They had finally escaped, Miguel with much painful
grimacing, and rowed away from the fleet . . . of course, in the pouring
Tulio sighed and curled up beside Miguel, shooting another dagger-filled
glare at the horse for good measure. He wrapped his arms around his lover
and closed his eyes.
The sun finally came out the next morning, but it quickly became clear that
the blessing was really a curse. Miguel and Tulio rowed hard throughout the
morning, and were exhausted by the time the sun was high in the sky. They
lay limply in the thin bands of shade beneath the benches, watching each
other's faces burn. Miguel, with his light skin, was turning a brilliant
lobster-red. The darker, more ethnic Tulio was acquiring a gorgeous tan,
and felt slightly guilty about it.
Miguel's back was healing nicely, despite the heat and the stress and the
pain of the saltwater. He was still bruised and battered, and most of the
larger cuts were still angry and painful, but some of the marks had faded to
little more than a pink-tinted memory.
The horse had gorged itself on the remains of their provisions, and lay
groaning in the front of the boat. Miguel was sleeping, worn out, using
Tulio's vest as a pillow. Tulio sighed, picked up the oars, and wondered
how far away Spain was.