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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!

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[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'm the strongest woman in the world," Susan agrees, craning for a kiss.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Which he grants, savoring the moment a little, slipping an arm around her waist.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan shan't let herself give in to the siren call of returning to Lancelot's bed so quickly after they dressed, though - she has an agenda here! She clings to him for a long moment - she's wearing that thin dress with nothing under it, and finds that she rather likes the feeling of his body against hers like this - and then draws reluctantly away. "I shall show you to the rug-room," she says, firmly.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Yes, lady," he says, with a teasingly heated look, "of course."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, don't you look at me like that," Susan says, busily, and leads him up the stairs to the room with all the piles and piles of rugs.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs and gamely follows her. He does still find himself surprised at the piles of rugs. "Oh--"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It is quite a lot, isn't it?" Susan asks, looking at the piles. "I rather like it. There was a shop that sold rugs midway between my flat and my job, back in London, and sometimes I liked to go in there and pretend I could afford them. I believe the shopkeeper knew I couldn't." She gives Lancelot a wry sort of look. "I'm afraid I used my looks to my advantage so that he might tolerate my visits." Oh, that sounds naughtier than she'd intended! There had been nothing untoward, just aimless flirtation with a kindly older gentleman.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Then thou'rt the expert," cheerfully, "as I already suspected."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"This place is so queer, though, that I admit that half the time I come in here, it's to find if one of these carpets can fly," Susan admits. "Like in the stories from Arabian Nights."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He chuckles, "I don't know that I've heard such stories."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, I imagine you'd like them," says Susan, who has always quite admired Scheherazade. "I believe they're of a time with you - of course, from much further East than France or Britain. There's a story of a prince who buys a marvelous magic carpet that can carry him anywhere." She turns, running her hands along the piles of rugs, looking for one edged in blue. "There were similar stories in Calormen, too - one of Narnia's southern neighbors, where Tarkaan carpets were made. I wouldn't be terribly surprised if some of those actually could fly, given the underlying magic in Narnia, but I never saw one do it myself."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Perhaps those stories are in the library here," thoughtfully.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I imagine they must be," Susan says. Thinking of Scheherazade, and then carefully thinking of nothing else, she adds, "I should like to read some of them to you."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He turns to smile at her, "Oh? I should like that, I would think."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Perhaps a good-night story," says Susan, bravely. "When we sleep together." Oh! There's a rug edged in blue. She pushes the ones lying on top of it to the side so she can tug it free. "This pattern - this is what I meant by an Oriental carpet," she says.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Or a good-morning story," lightly, "when we wake together."

He comes close to look at the rug. "Oh! I like that well-- 'tis like a tapestry, but more..." He considers, because he doesn't have the term abstract. "Well, less a pure picture. It's lovely."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Abstract," Susan supplies - she does, after all, have that term. She's still flipping through the corners of more rugs, so that Lancelot might have choices. "I rather enjoy the patterning. Some can have quite elaborate designs. I believe there's a symbolism to them, though I'm afraid I don't know what it -"

A glimmer of gold thread, shot through a deep, rich blue. Stylized scimitars and birds, horses and curling-pointed shoes. The pile is thick and sumptuous, but the design is still crystal-clear. Susan freezes.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot looks over at her, "What is it, sweet?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Help me-" Susan says, trying to shove the rugs on top of it to the side so she can see it better.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He moves immediately to do so, clearing the other rugs off with either a shove or hauling aside, until she's free to unroll as much of this one as she likes.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

The central insignia clinches it. She runs her fingers over the stylized vulture-headed man with four arms in the center, and then turns her gaze toward Lancelot, astonished. "This is Calormene," she breathes. "That - this is Tash. The false god of the Tisroc - the ruler of Calormen."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"It's Narnian?" He comes closer to look.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Calormen was to the south, past Archenland," Susan says. "Ours was a complicated diplomacy. But essentially... yes."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He reaches out to touch it, his tone a little wondering. "It's nothing like anything I've seen."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Tashbaan - their capitol - was like no city I've ever seen," Susan remembers. "Edmund and I went, once, while Peter was off fighting the giants in the North and Lucy was watching Cair Paravel." She's quiet for a moment, tracing the figure of Tash in the middle. "Lucy told me that the spread of continuing idolatry of Tash is part of what brought Narnia to its end."