Work Text:
Shall I Compare You
“Oh,” Mrs. Hudson says, approaching Silver Blaze with wary respect. “I knew horses were big, but he is… quite impressive.”
“He is,” Holmes enthuses, stepping up to Silver Blaze and stroking the horse’s nose with the familiarity and adoration that define their relationship. “But he is quite harmless, I promise you.”
Mrs. Hudson makes a humming noise in the back of her throat that indicates doubt, and Watson can’t help but smile at the standard back-and-forth that she and Holmes always engage in.
Watson stays out of the corral, leaning hard on his cane. Their new cottage home in Sussex has been delightful, and Holmes had practically shone like the sun when Silver Blaze was offered to them, the old race horse needing somewhere to live out the remainder of his lives following an injury.
Silver Blaze snorts, his ears pricked forward, his eyes studying Mrs. Hudson with intensity.
“Come, come,” Holmes says eagerly.
To her credit, Mrs. Hudson doesn’t hesitate any further. She steps forward, holding out her hand to the horse.
Silver Blaze immediately starts snuffling at her palm, and then snorts in clear disapproval at the lack of treat he has discovered.
Holmes takes a bit of apple from his pocket and places it in Mrs. Hudson’s hand, and Silver Blaze’s nose follows the movement, his soft lips curling over Mrs. Hudson’s hand as he takes his treat.
“Oh!” Mrs. Hudson says. “Oh, that feels quite strange. Nice, but strange.”
“It’s his favorite type of treat. I have several. We shall buy his friendship for you,” Holmes declares.
Mrs. Hudson smiles, as amused as ever by Holmes’ bouts of energy. “He seems a good horse. I am glad that you and the good doctor have been able to give him a home.”
Her voice wavers just slightly, and Watson feels again a tinge of guilt that they had to leave 221B. It had not been an easy decision, but Holmes’ health necessitated a quieter pace, and Holmes himself had been growing bored of his detective career. Far better to steer him towards retirement and picking up new hobbies than to struggle with him in London, where the temptation to lean on vice to fulfill the never-ending requests that came to them would have been nigh on overwhelming even for someone of Holmes’ mental fortitude.
Then there was Mrs. Hudson’s own health. Though she stayed quite spry in her old age, she had significant time on both Watson and Holmes; being a landlady was becoming more and more of a strain on her. No, better for them all that they let the lovely old flat go.
That still didn’t make it easy.
“Would you like to ride him?” Holmes asks suddenly, his bright words shattering the melancholy mood that had threatened to subsume them all.
“Oh, I really don’t think that I could!” Mrs. Hudson hedged, though she eyed Silver Blaze’s back speculatively, and there was no longer any hesitation in the hands that stroked the horse’s neck and nose.
“Nonsense. Watson, my good man!”
Watson leaned his cane against the fence and stepped up to Mrs. Hudson’s side. “Don’t worry, we’ll both be right here.”
“Oh, but there’s no saddle, no—Dr. Watson, do you really think it safe?”
Watson looks across at Holmes, who gives a definitive nod. Smiling, Watson gently tells Mrs. Hudson, “Holmes has been riding him quite a bit bareback. And we won’t let take off without us, promise. Holmes, you have a lead?”
Holmes snaps a lead onto Silver Blaze’s bridle, feeding the horse another bit of apple as he does. “The injuries he sustained mean that a saddle is painful for him, but he can carry a rider, especially one who weighs half my weight, without trouble. I do believe he enjoys it.”
“Oh, well… if you think it’s safe…” Mrs. Hudson reaches out, patting Watson’s cheek, making him feel far younger than he currently is. “Would you be a dear and help me up?”
Watson forms a stirrup with his hands, and doesn’t flinch as Mrs. Hudson uses his hands and his back and his good shoulder to clamber up onto Silver Blaze’s back.
“Oh my!” Mrs. Hudson declares, sitting straight on the horse’s back, scanning the area around them. “This feels so exhilarating!”
“You are the picture of wild horsemanship,” Holmes declares, and there’s something soft in his voice, something that makes it clear he isn’t mocking her. “Would you care for me to walk him?”
“Just a bit. Just slowly,” Mrs. Hudson says, grabbing armfuls of Silver Blaze’s mane but being careful not to tug.
Holmes begins a slow perambulation of the corral, and Watson follows alongside, ready to catch Mrs. Hudson should she overburden.
“You are welcome here anytime,” Holmes says abruptly. “I hope that you know that.”
Mrs. Hudson stares at her hands, and her eyes shine as she blinks rapidly. “I do know that, Mr. Holmes. I am deeply appreciative of that fact.”
“I know you are currently staying with your niece and nephew, and that you are happy. But if that should change…” Holmes reaches to stroke Silver Blaze’s neck, earning a flick of the great horse’s ear.
“I will let you know,” Mrs. Hudson says with a smile, freeing one of her hands to wipe at her face. “And I trust you two will let me know if you have need of anything. I have quite a few connections still, you know.”
“I will not hesitate to do so,” Watson assures.
When they have returned to the corral entrance, Watson helps Mrs. Hudson down with as much finesse as the two of them can manage. Since no bones are broken, Watson thinks they have succeeded.
Mrs. Hudson brushes her hands off, and then leans in to press a kiss to Silver Blaze’s neck. “Thank you, good horse. You seem a nice and gentlemanly sort.”
“He kicked a man to death once,” Holmes says with a quick, fleeting smile.
“Mr. Holmes!” Mrs. Hudson says, aghast.
“The gentleman in question had it coming,” Watson hastens to add. “He was trying to hurt Silver Blaze, and cheat at betting.”
Mrs. Hudson considers this, then reaches out to stroke Silver Blaze’s neck again. “We all do what we must to protect ourselves and those we love.”
“I thought that is how you would see it,” Holmes murmurs, and this time his smile is smaller but lasts for longer. “There is quite a bit similar between you and Silver Blaze.”
“Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Hudson says, blushing slightly but keeping her chin up. For the first time Watson wonders how she and Holmes met; if there are secrets there that don’t bear digging up. Shaking her head, Mrs. Hudson declares, “One does not compare a lady to a horse and expect it to be taken as a compliment.”
“Even an expensive race horse?” Holmes asks. “Which you have now ridden bareback? Quite the story to tell your friends.”
Mrs. Hudson blushes slightly. “Even so.”
“I shall remember that,” Holmes says with a grave nod, and he and Mrs. Hudson feed Silver Blaze a few more carrots.
Watson retrieves his cane, once more taking his weight off of his bad leg. He can’t help smiling as he watches Holmes, and Mrs. Hudson, and the horse who so unexpectedly returned to their lives.
There have been difficulties with retirement, but there will always be difficulties, and moments like these—soft and quiet, the breeze blowing, the bees buzzing, a horse chewing happily—well, moments like these make Watson very glad to have lived to old age indeed.