@ [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]

"Laertes would have sense enough to bring dinner for two."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan isn't so sure of that - she had, after all, told Laertes not to cook for her, and it's not like he would know that she was here with Lancelot! - but she indulges the thought. "Ah, so he would simply intuit that I am here with you, and that we were both in need of nourishment."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Perhaps, perhaps," chuckling. "But thy point is strong, an I am not out and about, it draws concern. We would have others at the door, no doubt. Aye, 'tis a poor plan."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It does sound terribly indulgent," reflectively. Susan shall add 'spend an entire day in bed' to her to-do list.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"However, an thy wish was to bed abed at night-- that I would grant."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"At night," Susan confirms, leaning in to kiss him swiftly. "And perhaps one very indulgent day, sometime, when we've had a chance to adequately prepare your friends for your absence."

[lanselos_du_lac]

A little laugh, "Aye, I do not wish to cause a panic."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"OF course not," Susan says, nodding wisely. A queer part of her likes, strangely, the idea of someone knocking on Lancelot's door and finding her there. She puts that to the side. It's not because of her dreams, she's realizing, that she would like to sleep with Lancelot - but she can't deny that it would be rather nice, should she have more dreams of Narnia collapsing and burning, to roll over and have Lancelot there, instead of hunting for him throughout the Mansion and its surrounds.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"It does sound delightful, though," he murmurs, "doesn't it?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes," she agrees. "It rather does."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Thou'rt a wonder."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Flattery, sir," Susan chides, pleased. "You should come with a warning. 'Talented with his sword. Utterly wicked with his tongue.'" She pauses, then clarifies: "I do mean that as a double entendre."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot allows himself something of a wicked, teasing grin. "Oh-- I know all of this to be true."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Ah - so the flattery is a ploy to receive flattery of your own," Susan says. "I am on to you, sir."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"We are simply acknowledging facts, are we not?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"So we are," Susan allows. She brushes a kiss to his cheek.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He smiles, and resists the urge to hug her harder as her own smile sends a flash of joy through him.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan sits up then, with rather a lot of reluctance, trailing her hand down Lancelot's chest. "Had you plans for the day?" she asks. "Before I... waylaid you."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"None pressing," smiling up at her, "And besides, certainly none better."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Good," firmly, and flushing lightly. Time for the triumphant return of that businesslike tone! She beckons him to sit up, too. "Come, let's sort your room out."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He sits up, giving her a rueful smile. "Very well, lady. I am at thy mercy."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

So Susan rises and draws him up. This is, in fact, a ruse to be held in another way; she pulls and tugs until he's standing flush behind her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"I agree," she says thoughtfully, leaning back against his chest. "It would be rather nice to have a rug underfoot. Perhaps something in the Oriental fashion?" She pictures it for a moment, then nods to herself. "Or even Calormen, if the Mansion can be guided into producing Narnian goods. The textiles in the Tarkaan homes I saw were unlike anything else I've ever seen."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot holds her close, tucking his chin over her shoulder, "I shall trust thy judgment."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Do you know of Oriental rugs?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs, giving her a squeeze that draws her closer, "I do not. Thou knowst it to be true."