sixwordstories | (no subject)

[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.

I would love to! Are you sure I won't be in your way?

*she's thrilled that he's asking her to come and see something he's interested in, but she wants to be sure that she's not going to be in the way. She's already made enough of a mess today in her opinion*

There are no mud puddles.

That is good, I am sure I will be in for quite the scolding from the Comtesse for coming back so filthy today. I do not wish to have to repeat it any time soon, although it would be worth it.

[He looks thoughtful. He halts his horse near another puddle, and dismounts into it. He scoops up handfuls of gunk and smears his hunting habit with it.]

We will tell her it was my fault: that you were only helping me, and I soiled your clothing.

*she halts her horse when he does, watching curiously as he gets off of it. Her eyes widen when he purposefully gets himself dirty and she gasps*

Louis! *she swings her leg over the side of the horse and slides off of it, walking over to him and standing near the puddle* You didn't have to do that. I have been scolded by her before and I certainly will many times over again.

[He shrugs.]

But this time she will not.

*She's unable to keep from smiling at that, touched by the fact that he's so concerned about it*

Maybe she will think we both fell into the mud *laughs a little* She can hardly scold both of us.

[He smiles back, and gets remounted.]

Let us find our stag again. Or at least some wild birds.

*she does likewise and nods her head*

I am sure we will be able to find something, and I shall do my utmost not to fall in any more puddles.