Work Text:
The ringing of hammer on metal is not a new sound around the forge, but not hearing Henry whistle while he works is. Hans rounds the corner, followed closely by a confused-looking man carrying a bucket full of farrier's tools. Wringing his hands nervously, Hans steps closer to Henry, who quenches the horseshoe he was working on. "Ah, Henry, exactly where I thought you'd be. Well, this is Jaromir, the farrier for the Neuhoff farm." Hans gestures at the man behind him, who is standing open mouthed, staring at Henry. "I've been assured he's the best in the area!" Hans tries to smile encouragingly at Henry and balks at the furrowed brow and pursed lips he finds. He clasps his hands together and says, "I, um, I'll leave you to it then!" He does not run away, definitely not–he walks quickly as he has other things to do. Like not being at the forge right now.
Henry shifts his weight to gather his hooves beneath him and stands, straightening to his full height, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His tail swishes behind him in annoyance as he resists the urge to paw at the ground and pace.
The man Hans left behind finally snaps out of his surprise and steps closer to Henry. "Apologies for my manners–I'm Jaromir and as Sir Capon says, I shoe all the horses that come through Neuhoff."
A few seconds of silence pass before Henry finally says, "Henry."
Another moment of silence goes by. Jaromir looks down, fiddling with his bucket of tools before sighing and looking back up at Henry. "Look, I understand this might be awkward for you. Does it make you feel any better that this is awkward for me too? I've never shod a centaur, but your feet must be the same as any horse I've done before, yeah?"
Henry grimaces and nods. "Yes, my hooves are just hooves, like any horse. I- Well." He uncrosses his arms and backs up a few steps to get rid of some tension. "I'd do it myself, since I shoe some of the horses here, but I can't reach on myself." His mouth twists up like he'd rather eat a lemon than admit that again.
"It's no bother!" Jaromir is quick to assure Henry, but Henry snorts. "No really, I don't mind–I was just startled at seeing you, as Sir Capon seemed to be describing an unruly stallion, not a centaur." Henry snorts again, barely hiding a laugh. Jaromir sets down his bucket and looks around. "How would you like me to do this? Here? The stable? Do you have a stool or a stand to set your hooves on while I work?" He steps back as Henry quickly trots past him to grab the stool he uses as a hoof stand.
"Here is fine," Henry responds gruffly, dropping the stool into the dirt floor of the forge. He gestures at the table where four shoes lay waiting. "These should be the right shape, but let me know if they need adjustment."
The two stood there, staring at each other, until Jaromir broke the silence. "Do you want me to talk to you while I work?" he blurts out.
Henry huffs and stamps a foot in annoyance. "If you do any of that soothing animal talk to me, I will break your foot." His gaze narrows at the farrier.
Jaromir swallows. "That would be awfully strange, talking to another man like that."
Henry flicks his eyes to Jaromir’s, taking in the soft, open expression on his face, and sighs again. "I apologize. I just expected–well." He shuffles his back feet and swishes his tail.
"No need, I understand. I can't imagine how people usually treat you." Jaromir starts placing his tools out on the table, within easy reach. "So. Want me to talk?"
Henry paws at the dirt with a front foot before willing himself to stand still. "Yes please, I've no idea what condition my feet are in, as I can't see them."
"Of course. I'll let you know what I see. A full trim and shoeing?"
Henry nods and picks up his front left foot. "Yes, thank you."
Jaromir grabs his leg and holds it firmly between his thighs, using his pick and brush to clean up Henry's hoof. "Sidewall looks intact, no cracks or stones, but a little long since I assume it's been a while since you've gotten trimmed? I'll take a little more than normal off, but other than that, looks good."
He starts taking material off Henry's hoof and frog, being very careful with his blade and nippers. "Let me know if anything hurts or you feel a pressure spot."
"Sure." Henry swishes his tail again, resisting the urge to pull away from this man. "You don't have to be so delicate, this isn't my first trim."
"I–Ah. Yes, of course, sir." Henry tries not to smirk and doesn’t correct him. The shk shk shk of the blade fills the silence. Jaromir sets the blade down and picks up a shoe, lining it up on Henry's hoof. "This one should be perfect. I'm impressed, fitting a shoe for a hoof you can't see."
Henry huffs out a small laugh. "Well, standing on said hoof gives me a pretty good idea."
Jaromir chuckles. "Never thought of it that way. Nice work." He takes a final look at Henry’s hoof, assessing the angle of the sidewalls. “Would you like me to heat fit these?”
Henry nods and gestures at the forge. “Go ahead. There’s a rope pull here for the bellows, since I prefer to sit rather than stand and stoop down to the anvil. Tongs and gloves are here, if you didn’t bring your own,” he says, pointing to where he left them.
“Thank you kindly!” Jaromir quickly gets the shoe to a dull orange, grabs it with the tongs, and carefully places the hot shoe on Henry’s hoof for a second or two. Inspecting the heat seal, he nods in approval and re-quenches the shoe. “Good to go.” He nails the shoe in place, then sets Henry's hoof down on the stool and grabs his rasp. "Want me to just take the nail tips off or do some shaping as well?"
Henry leans down and looks at his outstretched hoof, considering his choices. "For now, just the nail tips."
Jaromir nods and files down the nails. He continues to work on Henry's other hooves, talking in the same conversational way as they started. Henry gradually begins to relax, finding Jaromir's voice and work rather soothing. He sways a little, following the movement of Jaromir’s hands on the rasp.
"Henry."
He snaps to attention, startling a little and almost tripping over the stool they had been using.
A hand comes up to his flank. "Woah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know we're done."
A red flush works its way across Henry's cheeks. He was caught nodding off in front of this complete stranger! He clears his throat. "Ah yes, of course. Um, thank you. This was... A lot less awful than I thought it would be, to be honest."
Jaromir smiles brightly at him. "My pleasure! It was nice to have someone to talk to, actually. I usually work alone and horses tend not to talk back."
Henry chuckles and claps a hand on Jaromir's shoulder. "I appreciate it, friend. Can I call on you again for your service in the future?"
Jaromir smiles even wider. "Of course! It's no trouble. Let me know if you ever need anything." He looks Henry over, seeing his scraggly and shedding coat and catches his eye again. "I hesitate to ask but... Would you like a brushing?"
"And that's where we end, my new friend. Absolutely not , no thank you." Henry guides him out of the forge by the hand still on his shoulder, giving him a tight smile. "I'll be in touch when I need these replaced. God be with you."
"God with you as well!" Jaromir waves as he swipes his tools back into his bucket and walks the way he came in with Hans earlier.
Henry waits until Jaromir is out of earshot and yells, "SIR HANS, a word please!"
A blonde head pops out from around the corner where Hans was clearly listening in. "Henry! I thought that went rather well!"
Henry glares back at Hans, who has a sheepish look on his face. "Yes, up until he noticed me falling asleep and how ridiculous I look shedding my winter coat!"
Hans scratched the back of his head. "Well, you do look a little silly–OW!" Hans stumbles a little, having gotten a shove from Henry.
"And who's fault is that, ey? Not like I can really brush myself!" Henry glares at Hans once again.
"Well, I can't be brushing my own mount, Henry! I'm a noble! We have hands for that!"
Henry snorts. "Well, no one else will be brushing me, so I either look like this or you can get your soft, noble hands dirty for once."
Hans throws his hands into the air. "You're impossible, Henry! Just have the stable boy give you a once over!" He walks over to the box of Henry's things he keeps nearby, digging a curry comb out. "Ridiculous beast." Hans returns to Henry, starting to loosen the extra hair off Henry's back.
"Knew it wouldn't kill you," Henry grumbles.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing." A small, fond smile started to form on Henry. "Nothing.”