^ [open post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan doesn't believe in the mansion spirits, but she is being followed by something in a way that makes little sense.

It begins when she wakes up. Opening the drawer to the sideboard in her room to retrieve tea, she finds another gold chess piece wrapped neatly in ribbon. Lancelot didn't put it there - it hadn't been there when she made her pre-sleep cuppa the night before, and she woke up when he did and sleepily saw him off to his training; he hadn't gone near the drawer. She shuts the chess piece firmly away, makes her tea, and dresses blearily for her own archery practice.

There's a new bow in the closet, too. To her pleasure, it's a heavier one that requires a stronger pull - she's quite got used to the draw of the ones the closet first supplied to her.

After her shooting routine, she finds a lipstick in the precise shade Ingrid used to wear on the bathroom vanity. When she's showered and dressed for the rest of her day, she finds her favorite pastry - a sort of breakfast roll she used to get from the shop by the tube station she'd walk past on her way to work, back in London - on a platter in the kitchen.

It's when she opens one of the closets in the hall off the library to return a pile of laundered wash-cloths that she receives both some clarity and a deepening of the mystery: a jumble of assembled balloons tumbles out, made of some queer material and filled with a gas that keeps them afloat. The writing on them reads: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUSAN PEVENSIE.

She stares at them, perplexed.


Susan's birthday post! Three days (by our reckoning) and eight months (by her reckoning) early! Feel free to have your puppets run into her in any reasonable location at any point during the day; she's just going to be accumulating more Stuff she can't get rid of as the day goes on.

Comments

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan takes another swig. "I'm afraid I've been utterly derailed from any conversational topic I might've had in mind," she confesses. "All I can think of to say is variations on this is ever so lovely."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Then I have done my work well."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"What shall become of my numerous machinations?" Susan asks, utterly unconcerned, with another pull of wine. She offers the bottle back to Lancelot and goes back to rummaging through the picnic basket.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I do not doubt that thou'lt remember them well enough," chuckling. He sits up a bit. "Here, now. An thou'rt determined to empty the basket thyself, thou shouldst be wary of missing the last gift."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan immediately stops and looks up. "The last gift?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I am told that, in thy time, it is customary to give a birthday gift to one's loved ones. Yes."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It is customary," says Susan. "I thought the picnic was the gift."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I was already planning the picnic when I learned of the birthday. So it is, but a separate gift."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

The look she gives him is perhaps overly soft and fond. "You truly are my favorite person."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot flashes a delighted smile at her, "That is very fortunate indeed, for thou art mine."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She shan't clamber into his lap and kiss him the way she wants to, as there's food arrayed between them and she isn't interested in crumbs getting ground into these nylons. Her expression, though, makes her desire clear, even as she reaches for some cheese and bread instead of for him. "When is your birthday?" she asks, frankly a little surprised that it's not come up yet, and then, "If it's genuinely my birthday, Christmas mustn't be terribly far off. Had you a custom of exchanging gifts on Christmas yet, back in Camelot, or is that a newer invention?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"My birthday is in the start of June," he leans over to tug the basket a bit closer so that he can better dig around in it. "We did exchange gifts in Yuletide, though that wasn't as much the point as feasting was."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan makes a little sandwich, takes a happy bite, chews, and swallows. Then she says, "I suppose I shall double up on gifts for you in two weeks, then, as somehow I missed your birthday."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs, "Thou needst not. And everyone has missed it, as I've mentioned it to none that I can think of."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Primly, Susan says, "I hold myself to a different standard."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Of course thou dost."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Surely I might've sussed it out somehow," she teases. "And by my internal calendar, it's nearly June anyway." She smiles brightly at him. "All the more reason, then."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I see I cannot stop thee," light and amused.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"You absolutely cannot. Though be warned: I haven't the faintest idea how I might surpass this, so perhaps I shan't even attempt it." Surpassing, that is; Lancelot shall get multiple gifts.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I am pleased to know I have exceeded thy expectations," grinning. He pulls a small velvet bag from the basket. "Perhaps I should keep this in reserve for some time that I have erred."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"No!" says Susan, who does (it must be said) make grabby hands toward the bag. "I should like my birthday gift, please and thank you."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Because he can't resist, he dangles it out of her reach for a moment. But then he takes her hand and places it there gently. "I am not very good at getting the spirits to give me what I am asking for -- nowhere near so capable as thou art. But I thought on thee, and tried... a few times. And I hope that this is to thy liking."

In the velvet bag, Susan will find a necklace¹. It is understated, and just the right length to provide a good accent should she be wearing a dress with the appropriate neckline.

^{1: The key difference is that the primary gem is not a garnet, but a star sapphire. This is because the typist could not find an example that matched the desired necklace closely enough.}

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan studies the necklace for a long few moments, turning it over in her hands, holding it up and judging its length and its suitability for most of her clothes. It's lovely, precisely the style she prefers, and she's tremendously touched.

Then she decides, to Hell with the food between them. She moves the picnic basket out of the way, setting her cheese-and-bread sandwich on its lid and propping the open bottle of wine carefully against it, and then climbs into Lancelot's lap, wrapping arms and legs alike around him, drawing him in for a deep, delighted kiss. "Go on then," she says, when she finally breaks it, pressing the necklace into his hand. "Put it on me."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He smiles at her, bright and some sort of relieved and very happy. "Of course, lady."

Difficult as it is to not simply kiss her, he takes the necklace and very deliberately, very carefully, places it, working the clasp with a little bit of effort.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

When the pendant rests against her cleavage, Susan glances down. "I believe that's very becoming," she says, unlatching one of her arms from behind him just long enough to touch the stone. "I love it. Thank you."