[Open Post] ..like the bird that you can't see..

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot is in a very good mood indeed. He feels settled, assured. He feels as he did, he thinks, back when he first found his feet at court -- he is someplace he belongs, he can be assured that people will treat him with respect, if not kindness or welcoming. He lets himself revel in it, a little, as it's been a long while since he felt anywhere near as nice as this.

The weather is good: sunny, crisp, the familiar feeling of autumn as winter is hovering close by. He goes to his own room and fetches his sword. He runs his usual drills, though with a kind of ease and almost carelessness he hasn't had since he was young. (Perhaps he is young enough, still. He can't be sure. He has already lived past the age his father was when he died, but that means almost nothing. His father died in battle and Lancelot is, now, no longer likely to ever see such a fate.)

Afterwards, he showers and decides he might as well find breakfast. So he's now heading toward one of the kitchens, looking cheerful for once.

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye, most days, to keep a routine. I do better, I think, if I do that." He pauses, smiling again, "And keeping good company. Susan and I much enjoyed your gift, you should know."

[timebethine]

"Susan?" Laertes tilts his head. "I do not think I know a Susan. Or--no, I met her one evening, but did little more than exchange our names. I had all but forgot her. She's become a fast friend of thine?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

There is a detectable flush at that question, but he says only, "Indeed, a good friend. I like her well. Thy gift made a much better dinner than anything I could have done myself, so I am grateful."

[timebethine]

Laertes's grin turns scheming as he flips the crepe onto the pile. "Sir! Do I see roses in thy cheeks? Has she turned thy head?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I think she might turn anyone's head," which is its own sort of answer. "I am surprised she did not turn thine, but then I suppose thou hast enough diversions."

[timebethine]

"She seemed to have no interest in me, so I did my best to take no interest in her," he says, shrugging. "Unless her questions about whether I might father children were a kind of request; I know not. It was to do with my name," he hastens to add. "For Laertes was known only for being the father of Odysseus, or Ulysses, as the Romans called him."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot knows only a little of this, but he chuckles anyway. "Well, in any case, she has been among the many improvements lately."

[timebethine]

"I'm glad of it. And I should like to know her better, as someone thou hold'st in high esteem." He peers over at Lancelot's strawberries, then nods in satisfaction. "That's well. We'll wrap these crepes around them, then smear them with a little of this hazelnut sauce and this fine whipped cream. Wouldst eat with me?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I would, if it's no trouble to you."

[timebethine]

"Ay, happily, then." For a while, there's only the process of assembling crepes, settling them onto plates and filling them with sweet things. Afterward, Laertes gathers all of their work onto a big tray, then gestures Lancelot to follow him as he makes his breakfast rounds.

First is a plate left in his own bedroom, while Sagramore sleeps; Laertes shuffles the tray to one hand so that he can lay a kiss on Sagramore's brow before departing again. Next is Tress's room, then Enjolras's, plates laid outside doors. "And next, I would go to thine own room, but happily the man appears," says Laertes. "Shall we eat in the café? we'll have a plate each, and I can lay out the other plates for any who want them."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot nods, "I think we should, yes."

As they are walking companionably there, he says, "'Tis not thy task, to feed me. An thou wish it not, do not trouble thyself. I am grateful, but would not make work for thee."

[timebethine]

Laertes laughs. "Think not that I see thee as some starveling orphan or stray dog, gazing at me with a sad hound's liquid eyes. It gives me pleasure and purpose to do this work. Before I came to this place, I had neither, and was slowly perishing of a misery I could scarcely see, let alone name. This is better. I'm happy to serve thee."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"In that case, I'll not refuse thee. Thou'rt a fine cook, and it is no hard task to enjoy what I'm granted."

[timebethine]

At the café, Laertes sets down the tray on a table near the coffee machines and takes a plate and a fork for himself. "Didst thou see the talent show?" he asks. "Forgive me; I ought to have looked for thee there."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I did. I was impressed by thee," sincerely. He takes his own portion and sits across from Laertes.

[timebethine]

"Ah, that was nothing--didst thou hear the poems that Sagramore read? I felt my heart would be rent asunder."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I-- yes," he's momentarily a little flustered, but it passes quickly, "I was moved. In truth, it was a very good display. I feel I know few enough people here, but it was good to see what everyone can do."

[timebethine]

Laertes grins and points a forkful of crepes at him. One end unwinds and drips strawberry juice and cream onto his plate. "What was on thy mind there? Something touching thy Susan? Or mine own Sagramore?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"No -- nothing. Or, well--" He winces. Laertes is like this, he doesn't mind it, but he isn't sure he has words for any of this. He says again, "I was moved." Then he pauses and continues, "Some bit of homesickness. There are... people I miss. But things here are improving, and in some ways better than I have been in a very long time. 'Tis hard not to feel it strongly."

[timebethine]

"Ay, so it is," says Laertes, sobering. "In mine own time, mine own world, all I miss is my sister. The rest, I would leave behind me, and like Lot, I would never look back."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot looks down at his plate, "I still feel adrift, much of the time, but now that there are things and people which--"

What he is trying to say, though he doesn't really know it, is that he's started to feel as if he is healing some of the wounds he'd gained over the last months. He sighs, shrugs, and says again, "Things are improving."

[timebethine]

"Is there aught I can do to speed thee to gladness?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He gives himself a little shake -- he is glad, so long as he doesn't get tangled in his own thoughts.

Lancelot takes a breath and smiles again, sincerely, thinking back on the previous evening. "Oh, hast already lent thy hand to that. As I said, I shared thy gift with Susan, and it was perfect accompaniment."

[timebethine]

"Then I'll toast to thy happiness," says Laertes, with a ceremonious lift of the fork. "If I can aid thee in any other scheme, it would be my pleasure."

[lanselos_du_lac]

With a little laugh, he raises his own fork, "Should I have anything, I shall come and find thee. I will tell you, though, that I am very glad of her. It is nice to be understood and heard--" He hurries on to add, "--not that thou hast not heard and understood me, only that the connection is different."