@ [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

[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."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"They do call alcohol a social lubricant," says Susan, neutral but encouraging.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Do they? That stands to reason. I suppose that's why."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan bites her tongue before she can say something like of course, one mustn't overindulge - she doesn't want to sound like Aunt Alberta! Anyway, she can't speak to Lancelot's drunken flirtations; he's rarely been drunk when flirting with her. And it's not like she hasn't had her own share of drunken assignations, especially over the past seven months. "What was Sagramore's advice?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Firstly, that it was happening at all. I hadn't thought about it. But mainly that I should avoid it, lest I be ill used or come to regret things," his tone suggests that he knows this is reasonable. "I think-- I think that I had not realized it was happening, because it is usually difficult for me to relax with people at all."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Glancing over, Susan gives Lancelot a sharpish look. For a fleetingly brief moment, surprise is written all over her face; this soon fades into a thoughtfulness. "Fair advice," she says.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"And he came to note as well that, should I want something, I should simply ask." He chuckles quietly, "It sounds foolish that I should need such advice."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"In truth, I wouldn't think that foolish at all," says Susan, still eyeing Lancelot. "Many are not in the habit of expressing their desires." Freud has a lot to say on the matter, for example!

[lanselos_du_lac]

"No?" He considers this. "I think perhaps that it was so, at court, for many. I suppose I thought it would be different, here, or where others are from."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

But Susan is shaking her head. "I used to be rather bad about it myself," she admits¹. "I think the best remedy is to get into screaming arguments with your siblings where you refuse to back down from your opinions and demands." She's aiming for an airy tone, but her dream is still wearing heavily on her; it comes out more sadly than she'd like.

¹And she thinks she's better at it than she really is!!

[lanselos_du_lac]

He's about to say that he had no siblings, but then her tone catches up with him. He presses her hand again and says gently, "Sweet. Something troubles thee."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'm fine," Susan says, briefly obstinate, but they're reaching tree cover and the cold is getting to her again. She pauses, then pulls her hand free and wraps it around Lancelot's waist, instead. She huffs one brief, mirthless laugh, and says, "It feels rather silly to say that I've just had a bad dream."