[Open post] ..life's a hall of mirrors..

[lanselos_du_lac]

It's been an exhausting few days. While the zombie siege was dangerous, Lancelot is proud of how they handled things, together -- even though not everyone is friends. He was also, he must admit, grateful for the diversion. There is too much on his mind, after the truth-telling spell, and most of it sits like a stone in him... making his sleep even worse, weighing on his heart.

Still, all of that is strangely intermixed with hope. He has a few new friendships that feel like how he remembers friendship feeling -- pleasure in each other's company, time well spent, connection. There's a little piece of him that feels as if he gave that up with youth. (He was always glad to be in Arthur's company, or Guinevere's, he misses them in a way that's sometimes physically painful now that they're away from him. But all of that feels shored up by duty, devotion, love -- nothing simple.) He is glad he could speak plainly with Galahad, glad for all of these new possibilities. Glad of Susan, Laertes, Grantaire -- even Sagramore, whom only months ago he would have given little notice.

So he's reverted to keeping to himself, a little, while he thinks things through. He keeps his schedule: sleep (or not sleeping), drills in the morning, finding something to eat after that, wandering the mansion or the grounds. He's not as adrift as he was, and he is sober most of the time now, but it's an adjustment.

This afternoon he's determined that it's been too long since he took proper care of his sword. He's found a bench and has set himself up there to clean, hone, and oil the blade.

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

He grins at her, charmed even beyond his urge to share his thoughts with her, and takes another bite of his sandwich. "That's well," he says eventually, "I trust you. You are wise. You likely have insight I don't."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Even though she wants to, Susan doesn't accuse Lancelot of flattery yet again. Instead she sets her sandwich down and steeples her fingers, regarding Lancelot. "I am wise," she agrees, instead. "And happy to offer any insights you may request."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot's smile holds, "You needn't stop eating. I was only going to ramble on. Tediously."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'll be the judge of that," Susan says, archly, but she picks up her sandwich again and takes an appeasing bite.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He says, glancing away, "Well. Most of this is not new to me, but rather I've thought of things differently. I believe I told you, I fell out with the Queen and after some while I sought to leave court." Lancelot barely gives her time to acknowledge this, because he trusts she recalls. "During the... truth-telling days, I learned much. I said more than I would have liked to. But I keep thinking--"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes?" Susan asks. She pours him a cup of tea from the canteen in the basket, and passes it over before pouring a second for herself.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He takes it, sips, and is grateful for it. He takes some while to go on, but when he does, he says, "I keep thinking how unhappy I was. How I told the Queen what had happened, and how we argued. She sent me away-- and after some weeks, perhaps longer, I found a way to be gone."

He looks thoughtful, a little sad. He sips his tea, his sandwich in the other hand. "What if what is here is meant to be new? I left behind something like a ruin. What if I'm to start anew now?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I wonder that, too," Susan says. "There was little for me in London when I arrived here. Oh, I had my friends, and I had my life, and I liked both very much." Miriam, she thinks, suddenly; things had been so unresolved between them for months. She would have liked to at least say good-bye. "But I don't know if I ever would have remembered Narnia if I hadn't come here, and I don't know if I could have begun to start crawling out of the hole of grief I'd been caught inside without remembering." She is still a miserable woman, most days, but it feels more manageable, having been confronted with the knowledge of her own deepest denial. "I think perhaps the key to moving forward is to embrace the memory of what passed, so that you may set it aside on with purpose."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He nods, seeming a little far-away. "Yes, perhaps. And to decide not to stay inside that pain, though I admit that is my tendency."

Lancelot refocuses, looking her over, smiling a little. "You have been a great help to me. I am always so glad to see you."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan shakes her head, but it is not to negate anything he's said - it's more rueful, and self-focused. "I share the same tendency," she says, and meets his gaze head-on. A tiniest of instinctual smiles is tugging at her lips, now, trying very hard indeed to bloom into something bigger. "And the same feeling. I'm very glad to know you, Lancelot."

[lanselos_du_lac]

His own smile broadens, and he flushes a little as he says, "I should like, very much, to be closer with you."

He sounds faintly uncertain, but it's more down to nerves than anything else.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

It must be said that it takes Susan a moment to realize what Lancelot is hinting at. After all, she had propositioned him and gotten politely rejected the night they met. A boon, she has privately thought: she is not ashamed to use men as an anesthetic, or to have a robust sexual life, but if she had bedded Lancelot that night, she may have written him off entirely and not come to understand him as the friend he has come to be.

She has been trying not to notice how handsome he is, since, out of respect for his rejection. But taking in the flush on his cheeks and the tremor in his words, she puts that smaller denial aside and takes him in in full. He really is beautiful, but what's more, he's nice to talk to, and he makes her feel good. Like there's someone else who understands what it means to be lost; like this other lost soul is willing to sit and listen and hear her even so. Like she is still interesting, even though she knows for a fact she hasn't been able to be interesting in nearly six long months.

Her smile does blossom. Not into her easy flirtatious one, but into the small and ugly but fierce, genuine one. "You may," she says.

[lanselos_du_lac]

The reaction that flashes across his face is, initially, something like surprise; then the flush deepens and he glances away for a moment, though he's smiling.

After a breath he looks back at her, feeling overbold, and says, "If I continue in honesty, I'm bound to say that I should like to kiss you."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Then in the interest of honesty, I should say that I would be very disappointed if you did not."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs softly, delighted, and sets aside his cup. He moves a little closer -- he had settled at a very respectful distance, so he has to shift up onto his knees -- and reaches for her hand, leaning in to kiss her sweetly.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan slips her hand more firmly into Lancelot's. She lets him set the pace of the kiss, letting her eyes drift closed as she responds just as sweetly. It's different, but a good sort of different. She likes him; she can experiment with trying not to show off or put him in his place at first blush.

[lanselos_du_lac]

It's sweet, though at first very tentative -- as if he expects she'll change her mind, or perhaps that something worse will happen. (A bolt of lightning? Some other form of smiting?)

But when nothing comes but the pleasure of her nearness, the sensation of her skin, he lets the kiss deepen, drawing it out.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan brings her other hand up to his cheek, resting it there for a moment before moving it to the back of his head. He's looming, a little; she finds she likes it. Still, she presses up into the kiss, lifting on her own knees, responding eagerly, opening to him.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He lets his trepidation go, lets himself feel the warmth rising in him -- the sun on them, the light breeze, Susan's hand at the back of his neck. He slides his other arm around her waist, pulling her in, easing back a little so as to make her more comfortable, and deepens the kiss.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan goes easily. She's debating taking control of the kiss, setting the pace, playing it up. Showing off, a little; she's kissed countless people, and she's very good at it. It's been a while, though, since she kissed someone she genuinely likes, as a person and as a friend. She tells herself not to rush, not to get ahead of herself, not to forget who it is she's kissing. She rubs her thumb gently along Lancelot's hairline, and her other against the back of his hand.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot gently breaks the kiss, but doesn't draw away. Despite the fact that it's clear Susan is doing just fine, he murmurs, "Is it well with the?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan's eyelashes flutter as she opens her eyes. "Very," she says, fingers flexing against Lancelot's neck again, lightly. "And you?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Very," warmly. He shifts to sit, and entice her into his lap, doing his best to keep her close. "It's been some while. Forgive me if I'm over-careful."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Forgiven," Susan says, immediately, climbing into his lap and making herself comfortable. She shifts her grip, moving her arm further around his head, fingers brushing against his shoulder, and presses her forehead against his. "You can be as careful as you like. I won't mind."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs, settling both arms around her waist, and then kissing her more boldly this time, with an edge of heat.