@ [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!

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[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."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot puts his arm around her shoulder, firm and warm. He kisses her hair. "Not silly, no. Tell me?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She rolls her eyes at herself. "Narnia dying."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He looks down at her, squeezes her shoulder gently. He says, quietly, "That sounds awful."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'm given to understand it happened when my family passed through after they died," Susan says, aiming for the usual air of busy-ness she wears when she's trying not to think about something too much, but mostly sounding endlessly, hopelessly lost. She shakes her head and squares her shoulders under his touch, then clears her throat. "We were talking about you."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"We were," slowing a little. "But now we speak of thee. I can see it troubles thee-- I would help, if I could."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She's quiet, for a long moment. Then, still quietly, "You do."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He draws her a little closer. "Speak of it to me, an it would soothe thee. If not, we can speak of other things. But I would listen, as thou hast always listened to me."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Oh, he is a sweetheart! Susan sighs, and tucks her face against his chest. "Lucy told me a little of it, when she was here. The seas rising, the skies going dark - I suppose imaginations, and dreams, are always going to embellish where details are absent."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He rubs her back a little, gently. "Thy family-- were they also in this dream?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan nods. "But they were unharmed," she says, and then, more bitterly than she'd have thought she'd say it, "They were just watching it happen." Just how Lucy described it.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Another gentle stroke of her shoulder, "I can see why thou'rt distressed."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I just think," says Susan, and stops - she's on the precipice of something she's been trying not to understand, as she slowly processes the quagmire of slowly-defrosting feelings at her core.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot wraps both arms around her -- it is cold, and she seems so vulnerable just now. He stays quiet, giving her space.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

But Susan won't go further down this path without prompting. She shivers, and starts to draw her frayed edges tightly into her fist again, wary of letting a single thread drift loose.

[lanselos_du_lac]

His hold tightens when he feels her shiver; it worries him to see her this way.

As gently as he can, but with a little of the firmness she would use with him, he says, "Go on, sweet. I have thee."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan trusts Lancelot, is the thing. She knows he has her. She lets his warmth reach her, for a moment, eyes closed. Then she admits: "I rather think it's all bloody unfair."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Narnia, or thy family-- or all of it?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes. Everything."