milliways_bar | (no subject)

A queen wearing an apron is an odd sight indeed. But far from the oddest sight Mary's seen in Milliways.

"Hello, Queen Amy," Mary says, politely, taking a seat at Bar, laying her father's newspaper aside.

"How are you today?"

"I'm very well, Miss Mary, thank you.

"How are you?

"Would you care for anything?"

"Perhaps just a cup of tea?"

It seems a proper choice given the bartender's rank, somehow.

"I've been meaning to leave you a note to compliment Dar's training," Mary adds. "She's been quite lovely to practice on."

"Coming right up, as, I believe, they say," Amy says.

She even already knows how to make a cup of tea.

"I'm so glad to hear that you've had time to ride her. I don't always get here as often as would be best for her. And she is a lovely horse. My brother chose very well."

"I've only fallen off once," Mary says proudly. "And that was my doing rather than hers."

Mary hadn't gotten straight back on, but a day or so later she had tried again.

"I've had a number of people suggest that I should give over to trousers and astride riding," Mary admits, hoping that Amy won't be too shocked. "I feel fortunate to have access to a good lady's mount."

Amy sets the cup of tea in front of Mary, and smiles.

"Well, my dear, I'd say that just because they don't feel they cannot handle riding sidesaddle in a long skirt, it hardly means that you have to do it their way."

The corners of Mary's mouth turn up.

"Thank you," she says.

For both the affirmation and the tea.

"I can't imagine resorting to wearing trousers. But sometimes people in Milliways differ so much from me in experience and outlook that I occasionally find that I can't tell whether I should hold fast to what I deem proper or compromise more."

"Did you ever find it confusing?" she asks, taking up her cup of tea.

"I still find it confusing, sometimes," Amy says. "Even when I'm talking to people I consider to be very good friends.

"I think . . . as far as doing what you think is right or proper and what other people think is right and proper, it's probably worth giving it a bit of thought, deciding whether you think it's inherently right or simply current convention, and then doing what you feel most comfortable with.

"I don't think it's good to refuse to consider good ideas. But I also don't think every new idea is worth adopting. Or that the mores and customs of my place and time are any valid than anyone else's."

"I feel ashamed to say that I find thinking about things of that sort all the time can be rather taxing," Mary admits.

And she does look a bit embarrassed at the admission. Mary likes to be considered to be a person who approaches live thoughtfully.

"But when one has only had to follow the rules of social convention all one's life, it's odd to think about them all the time. I even find myself wondering sometimes, now, whether some of the conventions at home even make sense."

It's an odd position to be in.

"And sometimes Milliways and home get all mixed up in my head. Such as last night--I dreamed that I went to a ball in my swimming outfit. It was dreadful"