"So does your offer still stand?"

"Huh?" Anna listened with half an ear as she expertly maneuvered a snappy palomino onto the crossties before the mare had a chance to take off her arm.

"You said you'd stay later today. In exchange for helping you with braiding," Elsa said, placing a hand on the halter of the palomino horse as she tried to swing her head angrily in the senior's direction despite the constraint of the crossties.

"Oh. Right," Anna remembered, not able to tell if Elsa was serious or not, "Sure."

"Only if you're not busy," Elsa said, "It really isn't necessary, but I actually found something that I could use some extra assistance with."

"Well, you're in luck. My history exam was moved from tomorrow to Monday, so I'm free," Anna joked, and then turning back to the palomino, she asked, "What's wrong with her today? She's usually so calm."

"The vet came this morning," Elsa explained, "She doesn't take too kindly to needles."

"You little grump," Anna told the mare, who pinned her ears as Anna took her off the crossties and led her back into the stall that she had just finished cleaning.

"I'll let you finish up, then," Elsa told Anna once she had walked back out of the palomino's stall.

"Yeah. It shouldn't take me much longer," Anna said, "Just feeding and sweeping."

And Anna moved quickly through the rest of her work, wondering what in the world it was that Elsa actually needed extra help with. She had been expecting that maybe something needed to be organized or cleaned, or a particular horse needed medication, or maybe a hay load had been delivered late…

"I was hoping that you'd be able to help me with a new horse," Elsa said to her in the office about an hour later, wiping away all of Anna's previous predictions, "He's a new training project that my parents invested in. I was hoping to work with him on the lunge line under saddle."

"Okay, so do you want me to go grab the lunge line? Where is it? In the supply room?"

"Actually…" Elsa trailed off for a moment before saying, "I was going to ask you to ride."

"Oh," Anna said—one syllable worth of shock, excitement, and nervousness.

First Elsa had recognized her ability with Dee, and now the senior was trusting her with a new horse in the middle of training?

"I like to watch the horses move with someone else riding before actually working with them, and of course my parents went to see him when I was in school," Elsa explained.

"That's fine with me," Anna said, "I can go tack him up then. Which horse is it?"

"His name is Lance," Elsa said, "And I know you've been working with all of the horses, but just remember to be careful around him. There's a reason he's considered a training project."

"Okay," was all Anna could manage.

It wasn't that she was afraid of the (possibly) crazy horse. She just still couldn't believe that Elsa trusted her to ride the crazy project horse.

Anna walked down the aisle and found Lance's stall. And when she got there, she vaguely remembered the huge black warmblood horse with only a small white star marking below his forelock.

"You're the one who needs the chain," Anna recalled, eyeing the same lead rope she had used to bring the horse in from turnout earlier that evening.

Lance huffed and pinned his ears when Anna entered his stall, but Anna spoke to him in order to calm him down, "Lance, it's okay. We're just going to go for a little ride, that's all."

The large horse's shoulder was well above Anna's head as she led him to the crossties. The chain was merely a safety precaution; a small portion of the lead rope that ran through the rings on the halter, over the nose, that gave the handler more control and dissuaded the horse from tossing his head up and out of the handler's grasp.

Anna briefly thought that maybe she should have gotten Lance's tack beforehand, so that she wouldn't have had to leave the clearly impatient and agitated horse on the crossties. But there was no way she was putting the horse back in his stall and going through the trouble of leading him back out and onto the crossties again.

Looks like this one's going to be a lot of work, she thought as she hurried upstairs first for her helmet and then for the tack, Guess that's another reason Elsa wants someone else to try him out first.

But Anna wasn't going to let the horse intimidate her. Even when Lance struck out with his back hoof when she tightened the girth, and snapped at her when she tried to bridle him, she didn't let him get away with his actions. She made sure that he was listening to her as she led him into the arena, not letting him drag her down the barn aisle.

Elsa was already waiting in the arena with the lunge line, and Anna swung into the saddle without further instruction, but after that, she waited for Elsa to tell her what to do, because she had never really been in this position before. She barely dared to walk forward without being asked, and was glad when Elsa finally said something (instead of staring at her with an expectant look as if Anna should already know what she was supposed to do…).

Yes, Elsa gave Anna instruction all the time, but never while riding. And it just felt odd, being atop the horse with Elsa telling her what to do. Anna wanted to make sure that she did what she was told, but at the same time, what if Lance started acting up? What if Elsa asked Anna to do something that she couldn't do? Not that there was anything about this angry horse that scared her; she could handle him, she was sure of it. But the other strange thing was that she found herself wanting to…impress.

She had to remind herself of all of the basics, almost as if it were tryouts on repeat. She didn't want Elsa to have to correct her, to tell her that her position wasn't right, or that her heel wasn't down far enough, or that she was on the wrong posting diagonal.

"You're on the wrong diagonal."

Of course, Anna fought the urge to roll her eyes. Just focus on the horse. Focus on Lance. Forget about everything else. Just. Lance.

Anna quickly fixed her mistake. And she knew that Elsa had only pointed it out because Lance was a horse in training; even though it was a small mistake, anything could throw Lance off.

Anna found it a little difficult to adjust to Lance's gait, because even though he was on the lunge line, meaning that the lunge line connected to the horse's bridle and he was moving in circles around Elsa who was holding the end of the lunge line, Lance would still speed up every now and then. He would lengthen his stride, and Elsa would tell her to correct him by giving him half halts; tell her to not let him get away with it even though this was just so that she could watch him move.

I could just change my position, Anna wanted to say, and use my leg instead of pulling on the reins.

But she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to challenge the senior who clearly held authority. Anna couldn't let herself forget that. This was Elsa's life, Elsa's job, and virtually Elsa's horse. Anna had to do as she was told…

And while she knew that this was how it had to be, Anna found it increasingly more difficult to fight the urge to speak her opinion. Because by the time Lance was cantering, all he wanted was to take off galloping.

"Anna, bring him back to the trot. Make him walk, and then when he's listening to you ask him to canter again."

Anna did as Elsa said, but it only earned the same response from an even more agitated Lance, and after working on the transition a few more times, Lance was starting to hold his head high, not taking kindly to the constant pressure on the bit.

"Halt him," Elsa said, "He needs to understand that he can't get away with taking off like this."

Anna fought slightly with the stubborn horse before he started trotting again, but not matter how hard Anna tried, Lance would continue to throw in steps of the canter, until Anna finally gave up the tug of war and just let the horse go, against Elsa's request.

"Anna, that's not halting him."

"I know, but…" Anna paused, not knowing whether to continue. But seeing as she was the one on the horse, and the one with the most control over the horse at the moment, she decided to share her opinion with Elsa, "Fighting with him isn't going to work. It'll only make him fight back harder. I think we just need to let him get it out of his system. And then get him to listen."

"So that he learns that he can take off with students and potential buyers in the future? I don't think so," Elsa said, her voice firm, "He needs to learn now."

"Well, it's going to take some time, anyway. He's really green."

"That doesn't matter. The point is that he needs to learn how to behave himself before he has the chance to form these habits."

"This is only helping him form those habits," Anna muttered. And she hadn't intended for the senior to hear, but clearly, Elsa had.

"Anna, I asked for your help, not your opinion. So if you don't like the way I'm handling this, then halt the horse and get off."

Now look what you've gotten yourself into, Anna's mind was racing with thoughts at this point.

She was angry at herself for challenging the senior. But she was even angrier that Elsa wouldn't take her opinions into consideration. Anna felt that in this particular situation, she should most certainly be allowed to have an opinion since she, being on the horse and not on the ground, was the one who would be most affected if something were to go wrong. And clearly Elsa had to respect her riding—and her ideas about riding—somewhat in order for her to have asked Anna to help with Lance in the first place.

But no, she can never be wrong. And she'll never admit it, even if she knows it. Even if it's true and I'm saying it to her face.

Lance was still cantering beneath her, but her whole body seemed to be on autopilot, and while her thoughts were filled with nothing but annoyance, she wasn't entirely focused on Lance. And Lance, who had been previously trying to take advantage of a completely focused rider, jumped at the chance to take advantage of a completely unfocused rider.

Lance ignored all of Anna's half halts and leg aids, but even though the horse was still cantering, he put his head back down. And in the midst of her anger, Anna was about to breathe a sigh of relief…But she never quite got the chance. Because Lance, being the little devil that he was, suddenly gave the largest buck that Anna had ever experienced in her life; a huge buck that succeeded in launching Anna from the saddle, and causing her to land very ungracefully in the dirt.

Freaking ow. Tomorrow morning that's going to hurt like hell.

"That wasn't quite what I asked you to do."

Anna's face instantly flushed as she got to her feet.

She had temporarily forgotten where she was, but there was no mistaking it now. Not only did all of her annoyance return once she remembered that only a few minutes ago she had been arguing with Elsa, but embarrassment was added to the mix as well.

She had just fallen off of the horse in front of Elsa.

As if Elsa needed any more reason to explain why she was right and Anna wasn't.

"At least he's walking now," Elsa's words were nothing but ice.

A little concern would be nice, Anna thought. And she really, really wanted to say it, but she knew she'd caused enough damage—both to herself, and, she was positively certain, all of the progress she had made with the senior.

"I can…untack him if you want," Anna offered, in an attempt to make up for the trouble she had caused without actually apologizing.

She didn't think she could ever bring herself to actually apologize for what she said, because she believed wholeheartedly in those words. She believed there was a proper way that things should be done regarding horses, but that there also came a time when enough was enough, and matters needed to be dealt with differently.

"Just go, Anna. You've done enough."

"I mean, it wouldn't be a big deal or anything—"

"I said you've done enough."

It was all Anna could do to keep herself from glaring before spinning on her heels and walking out of the arena.

Why was Elsa so stubborn?

So set in her own ways?

And Anna…she was so unbelievably angry at herself; almost as angry with herself as she was with Elsa. She knew that speaking her mind wouldn't end well. She knew that Elsa wouldn't take very kindly to it. Yet…she'd let her stupid mouth get the better of her.

And because of it, she feared that she would end up as far from Elsa as she had been the very first day they had met.

You get this close to actually getting along, and then you ruin it, Anna thought to herself bitterly the entire bike ride back to campus. And by the time she had gotten back to her dorm room, all thoughts of completing any remaining homework had been extinguished. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and dammit she had a riding lesson tomorrow…

"Ow," Anna hissed as she took the saddle off of Splash the following afternoon.

The sprightly little pony had made her work hard—and it had done quite a number on her already sore back. The best of it was when Splash had decided to start dancing in front of the tiniest little crossrail imaginable, and right when Anna had figured it would be best to turn the pony around and try again, Splash launched herself over the jump from her near-stand-still prancing, throwing Anna forward so that she had to scramble to regain her position by the time the pony cantered off upon landing.

Just breathe. Relax. It's Friday. Tomorrow you can sleep until the afternoon. Or better yet, go see a chiropractor…

Anna, despite the unpleasant feeling of complaint from her back, brought everything upstairs with her at once, wanting to get out of the barn as quickly as possible. Because the one and only time she had crossed paths with Elsa today, the senior had given her the coldest look Anna thought she had ever seen.

Anna raced back downstairs even more quickly than she had gone up, free of her previous trip's heavy leather items. She made her way back to Splash's stall to give the pony a carrot, and then she grabbed her bag and waited for Kristoff to pick her up. He had offered, since Anna had told him all about the previous night's wonderful fall…and the rest of it as well.

"Do you think I should talk to her?" Anna asked when the two were walking back to their building.

"I guess you could try," Kristoff said.

"There's no way I'm apologizing. The only one who should be apologizing is her…but somehow I don't exactly see that happening."

"I don't see that happening either," Kristoff laughed.

"It's not funny!" Anna exclaimed.

"I think you should stop worrying about it so much," Kristoff said seriously, "She'll get over it."

"But she's Elsa," Anna said, "Because of my moment of stupidity, she probably won't talk to me ever again, let alone trust me to ride a horse like Lance. Oh, God, or Dee? What if I'm not allowed to ride Dee anymore—"

"Hold on there, Feisty Pants, let's not jump to conclusions."

Anna sighed. Jumping to conclusions was a skill that she had gotten very good at over the past few years. She stopped what she was sure had been the beginnings of a worried rant and listened to what her friend had to say.

"Anna, has it ever occurred to you that maybe it wasn't a moment of stupidity?"

"What?" Anna was confused.

"Just what I said. Maybe it wasn't stupid of you. Maybe it was a good thing."

"And how is it good that we're no longer on speaking terms and she practically hates me again and I have to deal with her every time I go to work and every time I see her in chem lab?"

"You told her what she needs to hear," Kristoff said.

"Well, yeah, I know that. But it was stupid of me to choose that over…over everything else."

"You didn't choose anything. You were only trying to help."

Anna sighed, "I mean, I get that, but that doesn't mean that I don't feel like what I did was wrong. Like there would have been a better way…"

"Anna you didn't do anything wrong. Okay? And if Elsa knew what was good for her, then she would listen to what other people have to say. In the business she's gotten herself into, other people's opinions matter quite a large deal. She's going to have to get used to it one way or another."

"This is true," Anna said, knowing how the horse world really was full of very opinionated people, "But you're forgetting that Elsa is one of those opinionated people."

Kristoff only shrugged, "I don't really know what else to say to you. Just give it time, let her cool down."

At that, Anna laughed, "Cool down? When she sets her mind to it she can be a freaking ice queen."

"Point taken," Kristoff agreed.

"But you're right," Anna told Kristoff when they reached her dorm room, "I always worry about these things too much."

"You mean well. That's all that matters."

"Thanks, Kristoff," Anna gave him a smile.

"Hey, just remember, horses are better than people. Sven is the only one I can talk to who doesn't freak out at me or judge."

"I don't judge," Anna laughed, as the thought of Kristoff's horse came to mind, reindeer antlers and all, "And what you mean is reindeers are better than people."

"Yes, Anna, reindeers are much, better than people."

Anna dragged herself to the barn on Sunday, exhausted from her shift at Starbucks, her back still sore as she had been standing all morning.

And imagine how much better it'll feel pushing a wheelbarrow for an hour and a half, Anna sighed as she leaned her bike against the barn entrance.

She walked down the aisle, her footsteps the only noise with the exception of the occasional huff or whinny. As the days got cooler, the pesky flies had died down, and so most of the horses were happier and friendlier with the change in the weather.

The horses get happier, and Elsa gets angrier, Anna rolled her eyes as she turned the corner.

The office door was closed as it always was, and Anna sighed.

Did she really have to go in there? Was it really necessary for her to sign in? Elsa would be able to see that she had come in and completed her job when all of the stalls were done and all of the horses had been fed…

Anna bit her lip, and then knocked.

"Come in."

A curt, short response. The normal one, just more emotionless. Was that even possible? Did Elsa know it was her?

Well, duh, it's the time of your shift, of course she knows it's you.

Anna opened the door quietly, and avoided any eye contact with the senior as she quickly signed her name on the sheet. She rushed out, but before she had passed the desk, Elsa said without even looking up at her, "The railings on the second level need to be dusted today."

"I get it, you don't have to keep punishing me to remind me where my place is," Anna muttered.

"What was that?"

Oh, you heard me.

"Nothing," Anna said innocently.

"Shut the door."

Anna slammed it.

Anna was practically fuming by the time she had finished everything.

Gone were her moments of feeling bad about what she'd said.

No.

If anything, Elsa needed to be put in her place.

She couldn't just turn on Anna like this because Anna had merely been doing what Kristoff had said—she had been trying to help.

But of course, it hadn't come off that way to Elsa, who clearly thought that suggestions were an attack on her opinions.

Anna had gotten a rag from the supply closet, and was running the fabric up and down the wooden railings of the second level, muttering under her breath the entire time, but she shut her mouth instantly when she noticed a rider enter the arena with a white horse.

She forgot I'm up here, didn't she, Anna thought. She forgot she asked me to do the railings.

At first, Anna panicked. But upon second consideration of the situation, she found a wonderful plan beginning to weave its way into her mind.

Elsa hadn't looked up once.

Okay, Elsa. Let's see how you ride if you don't like the way I handle a horse.

Anna recognized Legacy, the horse that Elsa had been riding when Anna had first seen her during tryouts. And Anna had gotten to know the horse better every time she came in for work.

Legacy was an Arabian mare, most likely seven or eight years old. She enjoyed being turned out, and disliked being cramped in her stall, although she was one of the horses who would let Anna in and stand patiently while Anna completed her work.

The mare wasn't actually completely white, as she had looked—and currently looked—to Anna from a distance. She was a flea bitten gray, meaning that she had gray little flecks of color all over her (hence the analogy to 'flea bites'). Legacy's dished face, characteristic of the Arabian breed, was one that Anna had grown to adore when the mare would stick her head over her stall door, tiny ears pricked forward, begging for extra attention or treats.

Anna wasn't sure if Legacy actually belonged to Elsa.

Technically all of these horses "belonged" to Elsa. Or at least belonged to her parents, anyway. But Anna wondered if Elsa had a horse here that she could call her own, and if she had to guess, Legacy would be her first choice.

When Legacy began trotting, Anna could only admire the way the mare moved. Her trot looked like any normal horse's trot, but when she extended that trot…that horse could move.

Legacy looked as if she were floating on air, so poised and elegant; as if each time she extended her legs she froze in a beautiful, lengthened position before she completed her next stride.

Definitely a dressage horse, Anna thought.

She had seen the dressage saddle that Elsa was using, but it was Legacy's fluid movements that convinced her of the horse's abilities.

And Elsa was quiet, her grip on the reins soft, but maintaining a certain amount of contact so that Legacy carried her neck in a perfect arc, the way she was supposed to. When the senior sat that trot it was like she was one with the horse, both moving together, that platinum blond braid tossing out behind Elsa like Legacy's snow white tail.

No wonder they call dressage horse dancing.

Anna was so awestruck that she forgot about how angry she was with Elsa.

Until…Legacy started cantering.

All went well for a few seconds, but then Legacy pulled a stunt like Lance had with Anna on Thursday, speeding up and attempting to take off.

So…maybe Legacy is just another training project then?

Anna watched as both horse and rider's moment of connection dissolved, replaced by Elsa's struggle to regain control of the headstrong mare, who wasn't about to give in any time soon. Because now, Legacy reminded Anna more of Dee, tossing her head up every time Elsa tried to pull back on the reins. The harder the mare fought, the more Elsa pulled.

Stop pulling! Anna thought, knowing that with the constant pressure on the reins Legacy would only become more annoyed, which would in turn cause the mare to run even faster.

But of course the senior couldn't hear her thoughts.

Legacy was practically galloping away with her nose to the sky, and while Elsa sat back and was going nowhere, it just looked uncomfortable.

Anna couldn't just watch this without doing anything. She just couldn't—both for the horse's sake, and Elsa's. And so she acted again, on impulse, really. She had already attempted to explain it to Elsa once, so why not make her message even clearer?

"Elsa, stop pulling on the reins! You're only agitating her more. You need to give her room to move; give her her head, or she's never going to listen to you. You need to let her go!"

Elsa's attention instantaneously, yet ever so briefly, shifted to Anna. And the split-second, wide-eyed look she gave the redhead was one of complete shock, confusion, and anger.

But in that moment, it was enough to startle the senior so much that she had stopped pulling back on the reins. And even though it was out of shock and not Elsa's intention, it was enough to let Legacy lower her head slightly, which Elsa took advantage of, giving the mare half halts until she came back down to the trot, and then the walk, and finally a halt.

And then Elsa walked Legacy as close to the wall as she could, stared right up at Anna with the same cold eyes from before and said, "The only one who needs to let anything go is you."

A/n: Well, everyone has their differences, right? They just need to learn how to work around those differences before they can get along. Not everyone agrees with everyone all the time. If that were the case then the world would be a strange, strange place.

But don't worry. It'll be resolved quickly I promise!

And now onto the horse terms: Green is a term that is used to describe any horse that isn't trained yet, or is currently in training.

And I'll also explain the lunge line again to make it a little more clear. It's a two person job if someone is riding the horse, as you need someone to ride and someone to hold the lunge line. You can have a horse on the lunge line without a rider too. But with a rider, the lunge line gets attached to the bridle and the then horse moves in a circle around the person holding the lunge line. It's basically so that the horse can be worked in a more controlled environment. So...I hope that helped :)

Thanks for reading!