~ [closed post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Now that the Mansion is producing goods again, it's very easy for Susan to compile a picnic basket full of, essentially, the makings of a rather international charcuterie board. Four cheeses (a good British cheddar, a French camembert, an Italian sheeps-milk ricotta, and a wedge of Dutch Leyden), three meats (jamon Iberico from Spain, mortadella with pistachios, and something labeled as an American bison-blueberry salami), along with some honey, fruits and fruit preserves, a baguette, olives, nuts, and crackers. She tops this off with nice linens and silverware and all the necessary ingredients for French 75s. It's definitely more than enough for two people.

Something about the end of that dreadful month has her considering wearing color again. As a first step toward moving past mourning clothes, she experiments with a very flattering deep navy dress that's definitely not black, though it looks it in most lights. She adds a coat of lipstick, and then takes herself and her basket to Janet's room, where she raps lightly on the door.

NSFW!

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[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet's already arranged herself to good effect on the rug, but she uncrosses and recrosses her legs for emphasis. She takes a hearty sip of that champagne, in pursuit of disappearing it in a timely fashion. "Secret plans, huh?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I should like to end my evening tipsy and tangled up in you," Susan says, giving the shaker a last little wriggle and then pouring half of its contents into her glass, topping it off with champagne. She offers the rest of the shaker to Janet.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet takes the shaker with one hand and uses the other hand to, as she tips her head back, lift her glass to her mouth and neatly drain it. That lets her assemble the cocktail properly as she says, "Hmm. You didn't keep the secret very well, but the plans are pretty good."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I would be a poor spy," Susan agrees, making no effort to cover up the way she's tracking the curve of Janet's neck as she drinks.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"It's a good thing the ink is already dry on our various treaties." Janet grins at her over her glass, then takes a much more delicate and appreciative sip.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I do count myself lucky on that front," Susan agrees, settling down now that their drinks are prepared, well within Janet's personal space.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet turns a smile on her, a slow and easy one, and shifts a little so her leg is pressed to one of Susan's. "You know, alliances are how kingdoms make it through hardship -- or through shitty little months that are some asshole god asking, hey, what if we did winter, but it was even worse?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"So I've heard," Susan says, letting her hand brush against Janet's.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Well, if Susan's going to be so bold. Janet curls her fingers around Susan's wrist, loose and casual for now. "Thank fuck that's over."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"You can say that again," Susan says, with feeling, and then: "Do you know, I got the queerest invitation to a party Bacchus is throwing?"

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Oh, Dionysus?" asks Janet, who went to boarding school and then to wildly pretentious magic university. "You don't mean the invites he sent everyone." She can't believe she even got one, after how their meeting went.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"...no," Susan admits. She knows Lancelot didn't receive the other invitation, so it does seem a more select group, but she can't imagine what the criteria must be, particularly if - as it sounds - Janet wasn't included? "It seems there's to be a... continuation. Of the sort one might expect from Bacchus."

[sorrowandsorrow]

Janet's eyebrows shoot up, her mouth twisting into skepticism and deep amusement at the exact same time. "The god of wine, fertility, and insanity is throwing an orgy, huh? I was a real bitch to him, so I guess I didn't make the cut."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"He's nothing like the Bacchus I remember from Narnia," says Susan, thoughtfully. "I haven't the faintest idea why I got invited. We've barely spoken."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"You had Bacchus in Narnia?" Huh. Fillory had its own gods, but you weren't likely to bump into Zeus on the way to the tavern. "Maybe he just looked at you and couldn't resist. I wouldn't blame him."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"The Bacchus in Narnia was an unsettling wild boy who always traveled with his maenads. He was the only one with a name; the river gods were just river gods. None of them held a candle to Aslan, of course."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Oh, sure, of course." Janet pauses, her fingers tightening around Susan's wrist just a little bit. "Aslan?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, the great lion. I'm fairly certain he was God."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"God," Janet echoes. She narrows her eyes. "Capital-G God? Monotheistic God?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I haven't been able to think of any other explanation."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Why--" Janet's expression now shifts into a frown, hard and skeptical. "God was a lion in Narnia? Why? Why was Narnia even his business?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Why, Aslan created Narnia, of course," says Susan. "And when Lucy was here..." she trails off.

[sorrowandsorrow]

Oh, sure, of course. But Janet doesn't say it aloud again. She tries to rearrange her face into something a little less obviously disbelieving, a little more welcoming. "When Lucy was here...?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

For a split second, Susan is surprised that they haven't talked about this yet. Then she remembers that being around Janet has always made her want to seem more with-it, more put together, than she's necessarily felt. Rising to the occasion, rather than languishing.

She glances at the skepticism written clearly on Janet's face, and takes a sip of her cocktail. Lightly, she says, "She spoke to me of what it's like in Aslan's true country. Heaven."

[sorrowandsorrow]

This Aslan sounds like the biggest load of bullshit Janet's ever heard. Not that he doesn't exist -- she's learned by now that almost anything can exist, whether you want it to or not, whether it should or not. But, come on, give her a break. Aslan's true country? Heaven? Pull the other one.

"Okay," Janet says carefully, "and what's it like there?"