@ [closed post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan has been having the dreams with greater frequency, lately¹: Narnia ablaze as the dying stars sink into the sea, giant lizards and dragons ripping every tree and rock from the earth and rending the last of Cair Paravel's ruins into so much rubble, laying all that devastation onto the blaze and then dying themselves as the mountains crumble and the seas rise and leave nothing behind but an empty, starless black.

Nothing, that is, save an open door, and her family standing before it, watching the devastation, and then the door swinging shut.

I've been doing better she tells herself firmly, rising from her bed before the sun has even started to think about peeking over the horizon. The waning moon is hanging low in the sky; the waxing one has already set. She turns on all her lights against the lingering dark and watches them blaze merrily in her vision until she has to glance away, dark spots dancing in their aftermath. She still feels cold as a lifeless, dark world, but at least there's no denying that she isn't in one.

Then, even more firmly, she makes herself get up. She dresses warmly - those thick woolen stockings that join up at the waist (she has since learned they are called tights; the Mansion has been supplying ones lined in a thick, fuzzy material remarkably suitable for winter), a dress similarly appropriate for winter, her woolen coat and leather gloves. Her hair she braids down, not up, so that it's easier to wear a hat against the chill that is resting both deep in her chest and sharp in the morning air outside.

She grabs her longbow and her quiver in addition to the latest of her pile of books - it's good to have contingency plans - but instead of heading toward the range or the woods to seek out a place to sport with Little John, she goes to where she knows Lancelot practices in the morning, stopping only to fill a thermos up with tea. It is, she thinks high time to make good on her threat to watch him.


¹Thanks, Aornis!

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

"So thou art," warmly, and with real pleasure, "and lovely besides. Shall we walk? 'Tis cold, this morning."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, let's," says Susan, looping her arm around his, feeling that surprising blush of relief again. This time, at least, she can ascribe at least part of it to a clear objective. "I've been meaning to chart the woods north of the lake for days now."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He covers her hand with his own, and starts off in that direction. "That sounds a worthy project."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Possibly slightly mad, actually," says Susan. "I last mapped it a month ago. But I believe I am more stubborn than this queer place and one day it will stop shifting things around the second I'm done cataloguing them."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I do not doubt it will come to obey thee."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It shall learn," Susan agrees, lightly charmed. Finding Lancelot was clearly the correct choice - she's starting to feel better already.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs, nudging her gently, "Thou'rt formidable, I know."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Flatterer!"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Jokingly, and as if to himself, "Ah, at last I've learned to sweet talk a lady."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Primly, Susan says, "It's always worthwhile to learn new skills."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I have been trying to do so, lately."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, please do tell."

[lanselos_du_lac]

A little shrug, "Sparring more, not just drills -- Laertes has shown me the rapier."

This is not all, but it is a fair start.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Ah! A spot of fencing, is it? I imagine you picked that up rather quickly." Susan squeezes Lancelot's arm as she says this, a little emphasis on her appreciation for his physical prowess.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I think I held my own, aye. The blade is very light."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Edmund favored it over the broadsword. He once confided in me that it felt more like a - conversation, I believe." This reminds her of her dream, and for a second, all she can see is Edmund silhouetted against the endless black of a dead world. She blinks; the vision vanishes.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He looks down at her right away, at the mention of Edmund, all his attention on her. He watches her expression carefully; and when she is done speaking he presses her hand where it sits on his arm again. "I can see the sense of that. It is not much like a longsword."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"No," Susan agrees. It's a little damp out - there have recently been some cold late-autumn rains - so she turns a little, leading them on a wide swath around the lake so there's no risk of mud. "So you've learned the rapier! What next for Sir Lancelot?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I would not say I have learned it -- a thing like that will always want practice," keeping his tone level and easy. "But I have also thought of other things. There is much to try and to consider."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Begun to learn the rapier, then," Susan amends. "What other things?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He pauses for a few steps, then, "Sagramore came to me with advice. It spoke to what we discussed some while ago-- whether I was flirting with Laertes."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan isn't certain that Sagramore is the best person here to give advice, but she supposes that he and Lancelot do come from the same place. "Oh?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye, though-- I suppose it is a little embarrassing," his tone shifting almost apologetic.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'll be the judge of that," says Susan, who is starting to suspect that Lancelot is much more easily embarrassed than she. "Tell me?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He takes a breath, "Well. I knew this not, but-- I have, regularly it seems, begun flirting only after I'm well drunk. He has seen me do so several times."