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[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]

Susan is no fool; she does know the effect she has on a good number of men. She assumes that the look Lancelot is giving her - and oh, doesn't it make her feel warm! - is largely that, accentuated by their growing friendship. She kisses him again, briefly, and then steps back to retrieve her bow. "Do you see any promising targets about?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs a little, almost having to shake himself, and looks around. Some ways away there's a sizable stump, bare, the rest of the tree having fallen away to the other side. "I don't know that it's promising, as it's somewhat low, but," he points. "It might be good practice to have something not so squared up as a target."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Have you met Little John?" Susan asks, now sorting through her quiver for one of those futuristic easy-to-remove arrows.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He moves aside, leaning against another tree. "Aye, but just the once. Why?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"He suggested I try this out here," she says, warming the wood of her bow in her hands. It's unnecessary - it will still shoot well without it - but it is a habit she gained in the deep winters of Narnia. As she does, she gives Lancelot a rueful look. "I'm a fair hand with this sort of thing, but I think there was some magic in Narnia that made me more skilled with less practice."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"There is no shame in practice," he says easily. "There are those who have some augment to their strength or skill, and even they benefit from practice. I am not such a one, I don't think, but once thy body knows the way, thou canst not help but hone the skill."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, I know," Susan says, and gives him a heated sort of look. "I rather like a good bit of practice." She's found the arrows she's looking for, and fits one to her string.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs again and then settles back to watch her, intently.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Little John had suggested firing out of stance, and so Susan has been practicing like that, albeit with a traditional target. She finds herself wanting to impress Lancelot, so she nods at a mushroom starting to grow from the lower third of the stump. "There?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye," giving a little grin. "I'd like to see thy form and ability."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan is intent as she nocks her arrow and draws. The longbow is still on the heavy side for her. "I think I grew up taller in Narnia," she says, a little rueful, as she sights along the arrow. "That's also part of the adjustment."

Then she fires. The arrow hits just above the mushroom; closer inspection will reveal that the mushroom is cradling the arrow but perfectly untouched by it. She immediately fits another arrow to the string, kneels, and fires from there - this arrow lands a few inches over from where she's aiming. Ah, well. It's still a shot to be proud of.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot is genuinely impressed. He shoves off from the tree, stepping forward to inspect the shots.

"Aye," he says again, somewhat thoughtfully, "'Tis easier when one has height and strength, but-- Christ, Susan, that's well done. And from more than one stance."

He's not sure why he's surprised; she was a queen and it is not terribly unusual for noble ladies to have such experience. He shakes his head a little and turns to her, saying, "Forgive me. It's only that longbow is not typically what ladies use, at home, and--"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I've impressed you," she says, greatly satisfied. "It's not traditional where I'm from, either. Either modern Britain or Narnia."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"So thou hast," his expression shifts back to that bright grin. "Certainly thou wouldst best me."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I told you," she says. "I'm better at a distance." As she says this, though, she closes the distance between the two of them. Instead of pulling her arrows free, she pulls him into another kiss.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot pulls her in close, kissing back fiercely, an arm tight around her waist. After a long moment he breaks the kiss enough to say, "Nay, never better at a distance."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She doesn't bother accusing him of flattery, just carefully sets her bow to the side, letting it lean against the stump, and then wraps her arms around his neck. It's a deep kiss, a little more intent than she'd usually let herself fall into outside of one of their rooms, but - Grateful, she realizes; she's feeling grateful for him, and so she's clinging to him with abandon.

[lanselos_du_lac]

This time when he cups her face with his hand it's a touch less gentle. He means to hold her as close as he can, and his kiss is still sweet but there's a hunger, an urgency behind it.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Oh, Susan rather likes that! She sighs into the kiss, pressing against his touch, against him. He's solid; she can push into him, into this, and feel confident that he'll only waver if he chooses to.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot rather likes that press, which speaks of trust. He does not yield, this time; he presses closer, letting the kiss turn a little aggressive. It's testing, a bit cautious, but his desire is clear.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

This, too, Susan likes. She matches his aggression with her own, fisting one hand in the cloth of his top, tugging at his hair with her other, letting her teeth slide against his lip.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He lets out a little gasp, drawing the kiss out, keeping her close as long as she'll allow.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

That will be some time! Susan is still feeling rather - clingy, in truth - from her dream, and in combination with Lancelot's reaction to her two little shots, it lends itself to a heady sort of urgency as she clutches at him. Even when she pulls away to catch her breath, just for a moment, she buries her face in his neck, but the faint smell of dried sweat there has her kissing him again a moment later.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs softly, against her mouth, his free hand at her jaw. After a moment he breaks the kiss to murmur, "Ought to have a care-- 'tis too cold out here for much more."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Oh, yes, they're still outdoors. Susan rocks back on her heels and gives him a rueful, rumpled smile. "I shouldn't want to bother SecUnit, anyway," she says with a firm nod, patting a hand down his chest like she's fixing his clothes.