sixwordstories | (no subject)

*Oh it's possible. Her mother had ordered her into the palace immediately when she saw her because the French delegation had arrived and she was afraid they'd see her. And apparently she's a Tolkien elf or something if that's how she gets dirty.

She does likewise, trying both to keep up and keep a hold of the reins properly. She's still not completely used to riding this way but she doesn't want to hold anyone back or cause them to slow down for her sake*

[He does consider her a little mystical. Magic wife: do not touch. She is made of porcelain that his clumsy fingers would break, and frosted with sugar that would melt in his clammy hands.

They slow to a stop in a small clearing. He is panting slightly, but mostly with excitement. A horn sounds.]

A stag has been spotted.

*Maybe that's a tiny bit accurate, people do compare her skin to that, and she does look a great deal like some kind of sugar frosted cake most of the time.

She tugs the reins on her horse to make it stop, turning her head at the noise*

Really? How exciting!

*She looks around eagerly, shading her eyes with one of her hands, trying to see it. She remembers him telling her it was the most desired thing to find and she's thrilled that they've apparently found one while she's there*

[He scans the landscape as well. Although it is a colorful blur to him, he can spot movement. The movement he is looking for is that of the hounds.]

There!

[And they're off!]

*she can see the dogs in the distance, even if she can't yet see the animal they're chasing after. She nods her head and urges her horse on as well, praying that she's not going to get in anyone's way somehow. She is glad that she's here though, even if her ladies had very nearly resorted to dragging her out of bed this morning, since she'd made them swear not to let her stay in bed no matter what*

[He crouches close to his horse's neck, urging the animal on. Hooves thunder all around them. His eyes are on the tails of the hounds. He guides his horse sharp around curves and over fallen logs. They move like a single being.]

*She's trying to keep up the best that she possibly can, she wants to stay as close as possible so she can see what happens. She finds it amazing to watch him like this, he seems like a completely different person and so much more at ease too.

But this area is unfamiliar to her, and she should have been paying more attention to where she was guiding her own horse instead. She doesn't turn her in time as she goes into a particularly sharp curve, causing the horse to startle. She panics and tries to grab a hold of the reigns tighter, which only causes the horse to jerk about more. Before she can stop herself she goes tumbling off the side with a startled sounding cry of her own, and right into a particularly large puddle of mud near the trail*

[Her shriek cuts through him like a knife, and he turns in his saddle, even while galloping in the other direction. His horse snorts as he yanks its head violently around, its hind legs scrambling as it turns. He catches her horse by the bridle.]

Are you hurt?

[His voice is high and shrill and frightened.]

*she doesn't say anything or move at first, because while she is largely unhurt, falling over like that knocked the wind out of her and she can't quite speak properly yet. Her hat's gone and fallen off and landed somewhere next to her, and she really is rather covered in the mud she's fallen into. Being such a small person falling into such a large puddle did not help matters and she's sure that Noailles is going to faint when she gets back to Versailles.

She's also rather embarrassed at having shrieked and fallen over like that, and everyone having halted their horses and gathered around like they have is not helping. She's sure that she's gone and ruined everything, since they've probably lost what they were chasing by now. She thinks he's probably never going to want to invite her again now that she's just gone and fallen off and made such a mess.

She slowly pushes herself up and shakes her head, attempting to get to her feet*

No, I think I'm all right.

[He dismounts and offers her his hand. He looks relieved. And slightly amused.]

Then you have fallen well.

[As good a rider as he is, he does fall off quite regularly.]

*She managed to at least get herself up into a sitting position, but she accepts the hand gratefully and lets him help her up*

Tell that to my poor hat, I don't think it's going to make it *she frowns* And I'm completely covered in muck now like some sort of urchin, and we've lost the animal we were chasing and you most likely don't want me to come with you ever again.

*She really does feel bad about making them lose the stag, and she's gone and interrupted everything with her fall and made them all stop. In her mind it would be perfectly understandable if he didn't want her to accompany him again, since this is supposed to be what he does to enjoy himself, not have to halt everything because his wife falls off her horse*

[He pulls her easily to her feet. He is quite unexpectedly strong. Must be from lifting all of those forks full of food to his mouth. Still holding her hands in his, leans down toward her hat. He tells it:]

You have fallen very well.

[He produces a handkerchief and dabs gently at the mud on her face and in her hair. He seems unconcerned that he may become muddy as well, and he speaks lightly.]

I have lost many stags, and I will lose many more.

*She is quite tiny too, but there is all that locksmithing and stuff. Supposedly he could lift a shovel with a page on the end after all. She can't help but smile, both at him talking to her hat and the fact that he's holding her hands*

I suppose falling into mud was better than onto the hard ground, it chose a good spot.

*She's touched by that, any handkerchief she might have had would certainly be too muddy to be of use. She tries to get some of the mud off herself too, and is doing her best to keep it off of him*

Thank you, and I'm sorry if I am getting you dirty *she smiles* I was afraid you were going to be upset with me. I can not believe I did this.

[He just shrugs. Both hunting and locksmithing are messy hobbies. He changes his clothes as many times in a day as she does, but for an entirely different reason. He pushes some of her hair back into place, and feels very daring in doing so.]

I am sure you are not the only one who will become unseated today. Would you like to remount, or do you need longer to recover?

*She still doesn't like the fact that she's adding unnecessary dirt, and she's already looking forward to the bath she's going to have to have once she gets back to the palace. She smiles again as he does that, thinking that maybe falling in the mud wasn't quite so bad as she thought*

And I am sure no one else will find quite so...interesting a place to land *she shakes her head* No, I can get back on now.

[He signals to the grooms, who scurry to re-mount them. Back in the saddle, his lips twitch into a smile.]

Oh, but there are rivers ahead still. Someone may yet show you up.

*she smiles a little at that herself, having apologized profusely to the grooms who were certainly less than clean themselves after having helped her up*

Perhaps I ought to see if I can fall in the river as well. It would clean some of this muck off of me.

I would feel terrible if you were to catch cold. Let us try to save you from such a fate.

[He guides his horse close to hers, and addresses the animal:]

I have entrusted my wife's safety to you, and I must ask that you be more serious about this task. She is very dear to me.

[He gives her horse a tender pat on the nose.]

It is just water, I am sure I would be fine. I may have gone wading in a stream or maybe a fountain or two on occasion when I was younger if you ask the right person.

*She might be getting just a little bit misty eyed at that, and she wipes at her eyes a little under the pretext of getting more mud from her face*

You are very dear to me too. And I must take some of the blame for falling, it is not all Belle's fault.

[He cocks his head to the side.]

...Wading?

[The word is unfamiliar to him. He is acquainted with waddling, being afflicted by the famous 'Bourbon waddle' himself, but that is certainly not something his wife would do, whether water was involved or not.]

*she nods her head, grinning*

Yes wading. You know, just walking about in the water but not deep enough to go swimming.

*She lowers her voice as though she's telling a secret*

Once I was splashing about in the fountains at night with my niece, and my mother even showed up and joined us. Can you believe that?

[He does not look as though he can believe that at all.]

But how do you manage in your skirts?

[They appear heavy enough dry.]

*the image of Maria Theresa wading in a fountain is rather hilarious. Thank you book for being awesome once again*

We were not exactly wearing them in the fountains that specific time, we had just our chemises on. Our governesses had robes for us to put on right afterwords of course though, so we weren't cold at all.

...Oh.

[And now he is staring very resolutely off into the distance and trying very hard not to imagine her in a wet chemise, the fabric clinging to her and becoming transparent with each splash...

He fights the urge to squirm in his saddle.]

I am glad you were not cold.

*Of course she wasn't thinking about it in that way at all, she's just thinking about how much fun she had with her niece and how funny she found it that her mother had come in wading with them too*

It was the middle of the summer, so it was not too bad *she smiles* It was a lot of fun, I used to do things like that with Titi all the time back in Austria.

Yay for conveniently placed mud puddles

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And here comes the puddle :P She's gonna feel bad about this now

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