"Oh, bollocks!" Sophie exclaims, one hand flying dramatically to her forehead. "It's today!"
Max looks at her askance. "Yes," he says, in the slow, calm tones one uses to talk to a madwoman. "Quite right. Today is today."
His sister huffs. She stands and makes a show of dusting off her skirts; the attic is great fun to explore on a rainy day, but it isn't clean by any measure. "Don't be daft. I meant that the anniversary is today."
Ernst, standing before the mirror and holding an enormous feathered hat on his head, says firmly, "No it isn't. Mama and Papa had their an-ver-sry last month. 'Member, Sophie?"
"Not that sort! It's the anniversary of Großvater and Großmutter's deaths."
Max's eyes go wide. "That's today?"
Sophie gives a very imperial scoff indeed. "Twenty-eighth of June, isn't it?"
Max puts down the brass spyglass he'd been toying with. "Bollocks!"
"Papa says we're not to use that word," Ernst informs them. He's still wearing the hat, and the fabricated ostrich feathers bob as he talks.
His older siblings ignore him. "We ought to do something for Papa," Max says to Sophie. "We didn't last year."
She nods, then frowns. "But what?"
"Bake him a cake?"
"That's a rubbish idea."
"It is not!"
"All right, then, how do you bake a cake?"
Max deflates. He hasn't the faintest. "Oh."
Ernst, bored with the squabbling and worried about his papa, takes off the hat and, unnoticed, goes down the attic stairs. It's not a flying day, so he finds both Papa and Mama in the study, going over accounts for the business.
"Yes?" Papa asks, slightly startled, when Ernst climbs into his lap. "Are you all right, Mausi?"
"Sorry about Großvater, Papa," Ernst says. He sticks his thumb in his mouth before he remembers he's too old for that. "And Großmutter."
Papa goes still. So does Mama, in her chair across the desk. "Ah," he says. "Yes. Thank you, Ernst. You're very thoughtful."
He presses a kiss to the top of Ernst's head, and Ernst feels much better.
"Aye, that was sweet," Mama says. She exchanges a glance with Papa. "How did you know it was today, love?"
"Sophie said." Ernst wrinkles his nose. "Then she and Max were arguing so I left. And they said 'bollocks' and I told them not to."
Papa rubs at his mouth, trying to hide a smile. "I see."
There's a clatter of footsteps in the hall and then Sophie and Max burst into the study. "There you are!" Sophie says to Ernst. To Mama, she says, "He snuck away -"
"While you were arguing with Max," Mama finishes, one eyebrow arched, and some of Sophie's righteous indignance crumbles. "It's come out all right this time – but when I ask you to mind your brothers, mind both of them, aye?"
"Without cursing," Papa adds.
Both Sophie and Max look chagrined, but then Sophie, the born politician, tosses her hair and says grandly, "We weren't really arguing, you know. We were trying to think of something to do for you, Papa, to cheer you up."
"Thank you," Papa says to her. Mama snorts, but fondly.
Ernst, whose position on Papa's lap affords him an excellent vantage point, says, "You don't look sad."
"I lost them a long time ago." Papa puts his arms around Ernst in a loose hug. "It's a bit like your mother's knee; it only hurts a little now, and only sometimes."
Ernst understands – or thinks he does. Regardless, he's being hugged by his papa, so everything must be fine.
"And when it does hurt," Papa adds, "I think of all the wonderful things that have happened because of it."
Max sidles up to Mama and she puts an arm around his waist. Sophie, left without a parent to drape herself upon (not that she would; she's far too grown up for such things) chooses to perch on the corner of the desk.
"Wonderful things?" Sophie asks. Her forehead wrinkles up in confusion. "Do you mean the Leviathan?"
Papa smiles at her. "Yes. I would have never found myself on that glacier, in the ordinary way of things."
Mama adds, "Or saved my bum from freezing."
She and Papa exchange another glance, this one carrying connotations that quite fly over the heads of their children, but leaving both of them with smiles. He says, "Or made friends with Midshipman Sharp."
"Or married her!" Ernst exclaims. He knows this bit.
Sophie says, more seriously, "Or had us."
"Exactly. It was all the work of Providence – the good and the bad both, in equal measure. I can't regret any part of a destiny that led to you. Nor could your Großvater and Großmutter, God rest their souls." He drops another kiss on Ernst's hair, then reaches out and catches Sophie's hand in his.
Mama rolls her eyes at the "destiny" and "Providence" portions of this speech, but she also hugs Max more tightly. Max, for his part, bears up under this embarrassing treatment with dignity.
"It looks as though the rain's stopped," Mama says. "Maybe you wee hooligans ought to play outside."
"Or shall we leave all this –" Papa gestures to the ledger books spread across the desk "- and go for a flight?"
"Yes!" Max says immediately, pulling away from Mama and running for the door. The noise wakes Bovril, who has been snoozing on its cushion in the corner.
"What's all the commotion?" Bovril asks, looking around.
"Come on, Bov!" Ernst gathers up the loris in his arms before running after his brother. "Max! Wait for us!"
Mama laughs and follows her boys.
Papa turns to Sophie. "What about you, Spaetzchen?"
"I suppose," Sophie says, pretending not to care. "If it makes you feel better."
Papa makes a point of kissing her cheek as he rises. She ducks away – but smiles.
And they go on.
.
.
.
Note: Spaetzchen means "little sparrow," while Mausi means "little mouse." I wanted to do a ficlet commemorating the 100th anniversary of Franz Ferdinand and Sophie's deaths, but having just angsted all over "Troika", I didn't want it to be sad. So! Fluffy fluff for a tragic moment in history.
