sixwordstories | (no subject)

[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.

[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.