An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Old Town Road (AKA The “Hob is a Horse Girl” Fic)
By @arialerendeair and all art by @amielot (Art Masterpost!!)
Chapter: 2/?
Pairing: Dream/Hob
Rating: Explicit
Art featured in this Chapter: Dream and Hob Escape the Circus, Dream Collapses Getting Into the Barn
Summary:
Hob helps to rescue Dream - a rare Unicorn Centaur from a decade of captivity at the hands of Roderick Burgess.
Dream is injured, and severely malnourished, and over the next few weeks as he heals and grows stronger - he and Hob grow closer.
When Dream sets off to return to his home, Hob accompanies him, and the two of them grow closer and closer, until they find themselves unwilling to let each other go.
Will they manage to find their happily ever after together?
(It’s me, of course they will - just an adventure or seven first!)
Read on Ao3!
~!~!~!~
(Chapter Preview!)
Unfortunately, even though they were in town for a full week, Hob knew that he needed to do some proper planning if he wanted to break the centaur out and get away with it. But, thankfully, he'd made enough friends, that it was easy enough to start getting what he needed. He bought a nice knife and holster and tucked it away in his belt, with an easy excuse that he wanted something on hand if he was dealing with the Manticores regularly. (No one questioned him when he pointed out he was their regular feeder.)
He started using his wages to buy drinks. Not for himself, but for others. Loosening tongues. Not getting drunk, but sharing a pint after a long day that he paid for was a sure way to get into the graces of many of the employees there. Paul's impressed nod and smile had meant he was doing the right thing, even as his stomach turned.
Thankfully, everything he was doing meant that he could continue getting the unicorn centaur small cups of oats as long as he collected the cup from one of the other horse's stalls. It worked well, and hopefully, it was giving him a small modicum of strength through all of the stuff Burgess made him do as part of a routine. He had almost everything in place, except for one final thing.
Hob planned to rob Burgess blind. Despite what the man had said the first day they'd arrived in town, he'd been making excellent money, and the shows had been sold out almost every night. Which meant that somewhere, there was a great deal of money just lying around waiting for someone to take it. He was in the middle of running an errand for Paul when he caught wind of precisely what he needed to hear, at last.
Before the prince could craft a response - or breathe right, for that matter - they were approached by two other people. Vellner recognized the enormous, broad-shouldered man as the king; the woman on his arm must be the queen. “Kiran, my boy,” the king greeted, clapping Kiran on the back and knocking Vellner from his perch. The faeling kicked his feet and managed to climb back up as Kiran’s parents smiled at him. “Enjoying the solstice so far?”
“Yes, Father,” Kiran replied, his voice still a little hoarse from all the coughing. He straightened and met his father’s eyes. “Immensely.” The prince’s tone sounded a mite sarcastic to Vellner, but if the king noticed, he didn’t comment on it.
“I saw you dancing with those girls, they looked nice,” the queen said, giving Kiran a knowing sort of smile. Her eyes found their way to Vellner and she added, “And you brought your faeling too I see. I’m sure that’s been a good conversation starter.”
“Mm, yes,” said the king before Kiran could answer. His eyes found Vellner as well and the faeling tensed, not at all liking the way the king stared at him. That was a human he had no desire to mess with. “How is it doing? Are you taking care of it responsibly, like I asked?”
Kiran sighed, but quietly, subtle enough that Vellner was likely the only one to notice. “Yes, Father,” he replied with muted irritation. “It’s doing just fine.” Vellner frowned, having an opinion quite to the contrary, but didn’t say anything.
The less attention he drew to himself in front of the king, the better.
The queen leaned forward and peered at Vellner. “It looks rather thin,” she noted. She reached out and raised Vellner’s arm, before dropping it and tilting the faeling’s chin, examining him. “You’re feeding it yourself and not having the servants do so, right?”
This time Kiran really did sigh audibly. “Yes, Mother,” he assured her. “I’m taking care of it just like Father asked. The servants don’t do anything with it at all. And it’s supposed to be that thin, it’s tiny.” Vellner didn’t agree with that, either, but somehow kept his mouth shut.
Kiran’s mother straightened once more, mollified, and his father leaned in to murmur, “I’m glad to see you taking some responsibility, son. Remember, your behavior reflects on me, and in turn, the country. See to it you have everything,” here he looked to Vellner, who quickly averted his eyes, “under control.”
That was ominous to begin with, and the king’s intensity was not lost on either Kiran nor Vellner. “Of course, Father,” Kiran testily replied. “I always have it under control.”
Stepping back, the king nodded, though his expression suggested he didn’t quite believe Kiran. Vellner couldn’t blame him. The regents walked away and both prince and faeling breathed a sigh of relief.
“You know, I really don’t like your dad,” Vellner glibly commented.
“You and I have that in common, faeling,” Kiran wearily agreed.
Vellner immediately bristled. “I told you not to call me that!” he complained, for what felt like the thousandth time. It was bad enough that Kiran had adopted the term, but apparently it had spread to every other human in the kingdom.
“Oh don’t whine, it’s not becoming,” Kiran retorted, immediately irritated with the faeling once more. He reached up and flicked Vellner, who gasped as all the breath was forced from his lungs, only his solid grip on Kiran’s collar keeping him from tumbling off. “You know, you’ve been rather well behaved this evening, I’m growing suspicious as to why you aren’t like this all the time.”
Vellner rubbed the new bruise on his chest with his free hand and scowled. “I save it for special occasions,” he sarcastically replied. In reality, he saved it for when he wasn’t afraid of being tortured later.
Kiran scoffed. “What, I’m not special enough for you to-”
“Kiran!” A girl’s voice interrupted him, and the prince turned to see Brinn coming up to him, a smile on her face. “I’ve been looking for you,” she said once she arrived, somewhat breathless.
The prince smiled at her and spread his arms out. “Well, you found me,” he genially replied. Vellner rolled his eyes.
Her own smile turned sly. “I sure did,” she said, quiet, meaningful. “You know, Prince Kiran… I really did enjoy that dance, but,” she looked up and stepped closer, putting herself right up against him, “I think there’s something better we could be doing.” Slowly, she reached up and wound her arms around Kiran’s shoulders. Kiran took her waist and followed her lead, going in for the kiss.
Vellner, who had a front row seat he didn’t ask for, audibly gagged as their lips met mere inches from him. “Gross!” he protested, closing his eyes, only to snap them open again as Kiran’s hand reached up and wrapped around him. The faeling was soon deposited on the nearby buffet table- much to his relief.
Standing up and brushing off the suit Kiran had forced him into, Vellner glanced up at the two teenagers. They were busy making out and the faeling’s face wrinkled in disgust. As least he didn’t have to be right there anymore. He turned and walked over to a nearby tray of candied fruits. He stole another serruptitious look at Kiran, just to make sure he wasn’t about to get yelled at, before taking one off the tray.
The sugar flooded his mouth and Vellner almost couldn’t handle the flavor. He wasn’t sure he had ever eaten something so sweet. It was incredible.
A look around showed bowls and plates filled with an even wider variety of delicacies. Vellner’s mind spun with possibilities before he saw something that trumped even the temptation of fine food- there was a window open.
He walked over to it and clambered up onto the sill with ease, thanks to the height of the table he was on. A glance over his shoulder showed that Kiran was still thoroughly involved with Brinn and hadn’t noticed a thing, though Vellner’s heart was pounding regardless. At least, if asked, he could explain himself by simply saying he had wanted some fresh air.
The faeling chanced a look over the other side of the windowsill. They were on the lower level of the castle, meaning the ground was only a few feet below, and bushes grew nearly to the window. Taking one last large bite of candied fruit, Vellner stole a quick look at Kiran and Brinn before stepping casually out of the window.
