sixwordstories | (no subject)

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.

[He's still half-lost in his pubescent daydream.]

Sometimes my brothers and I...fought.

[And they still do. And it is not the same as playing. Change of subject.]

I always think of Austria as chilly.

*And she still has no idea*

My brothers did that too, particularly Ferdinand and Max since they were the two youngest.

*Oh no one cares about what that dick Provence does anyway, so hurrah change of subjects. And apparently she is having a total nostalgia trip today*

Oh no, not at all. Generally the weather is lovely... well except for in the winter time or up in the mountains *smiles* We used to have snow brought down from the mountains to go sledding on actually, it was great fun.

[And he can't tell her. You don't say such things to a lady. He shouldn't even be thinking them.]

How did they keep it from melting?

*That would be the most epically awkward conversation that has ever been and ever will be. And I'm pretty sure a man's allowed to think about his wife like that ya know*

It was always during winter, so it was kept cold naturally I suppose. You see, we did not get a lot of snow at Schonbrunn for some reason, so they had to bring it down for us.

[Normal men, sure.]

That is very...industrious.

*alright, true enough*

It was, wasn't it *grins* Now I feel a little guilty about using all that effort for sliding down and throwing snowballs at statuary.

[Marie, you are married to a strange duck.]

But you did not ask for it: it was a gift.

*She knows this, but she...uhhh likes ducks?*

My mother asked for it, she always did spoil Titi a great deal *she looks down, fiddling with the reigns of her horse* I wish she was still here, she would have laughed to hear about me falling in the mud.

[He wants to comfort her, but he cannot think of the right words, and it seems inappropriate to pat her knee, in public, in breeches. Instead he says:]

My father hated hunting.

*she looks up from her horse*

Really? Why? *smiles, pushing pushing a piece of hair back off her face* Did he fall off his horse more than I do?

[Now he wishes he had not brought it up.]

There was an accident, and one of his grooms was killed, and he never hunted at all after that, and would not allow me to learn to ride until after he had passed away. But he did not enjoy any physical activities. He was very portly. Like I am.

*now she feels awful for having asked and wishes that she hadn't brought it up either*

I am so sorry, that must have been terrible. I had no idea that had happened to him, I can understand why he would want to avoid it after that.

*she pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful*

But is it not better to be a more substantial person to do those kinds of things? If someone as slight as me were to attempt them I would not be strong enough I am sure.

[That's what he gets for blurting something out and not deliberating over his words for forty-five minutes before saying them.]

Not those things such as: dancing, but...I had not ever considered that. It is certainly better than be sickly, as I was as a child.

*Deliberating things is good, but sometimes blurting things out is good too*

No, perhaps not dancing *she smiles* But can you imagine if I were to try to carry a stag or lift a hammer? I would most likely hurt myself.

It is better, and I am glad that you are well now.

A hammer is not terribly heavy, you know.

Really? They certainly look heavy to me, but I suppose you know much better than I do.

You will have to come to my forge and see for yourself.