[Semi-Closed Post] Sadmas Aftermath

[lanselos_du_lac]

Rather suddenly, after this latest mansion event or incursion of unexpected visitors, Lancelot will not be seen around and about as has come to be usual for him. He is not drilling in the field in the mornings. He is not in the café seeking pastries or companionship. He is not around the kitchens or libraries or, seemingly, anywhere.

Lancelot keeps to his room. If he bathes or shaves or uses the bathroom, he does so carefully and avoiding anyone he might meet. If Laertes leaves food outside his door, folk will find it still there later in the day. If anyone knocks, he will not call them in. He lets the mansion provision him with bread, cheese, water-- sometimes wine or whiskey -- but he doesn't much want any of it.

He cannot bring himself to speak to anyone. He cannot bring himself to do much of anything at all. The best concession he will make, with the understanding that there are those who will worry, is that he does not lock or bolt the door.

[Typist note: Anyone who might be really worried about Lancelot's sudden disappearance or withdrawal is welcome! Post is "semi-closed" really only because a character would have to deliberately decide to enter, and no one will stumble across Lancelot by accident.]

Comments

[sagramore]

"Perfect." He comes over to Lancelot's chair, unscrewing the top of the bottle, and when he reaches him he takes a drink and then hands it over.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Do sit," taking the bottle. "I am terrible at everything right now, but thou shouldst make thyself comfortable."

[sagramore]

"I will." He does, on the table, so that he's not too far from the bottle. "Thou hadst better be eating what Laertes brings thee nevertheless. I'd not have his work wasted."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Another little sigh, "I have been trying. But-- Sagramore, if I am honest, this goes harder than the first I came here."

[sagramore]

Sagramore waits, listening.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot takes a drink, "Laertes has told thee, I am certain."

[sagramore]

"He said the king was here. His horse remains, by the way."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Baffled, he asks, "What?"

[sagramore]

"His horse. I assume it's his."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"A stallion? Bay?"

[sagramore]

"That's the one. Not that we have a great many to choose from."

[lanselos_du_lac]

His expression is hard to read, "He cannot stay, but the steed--?"

[sagramore]

He takes the bottle back for another drink. "I don't think this place plays fair."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"No," quietly, "I suppose not."

[sagramore]

"Besides his horse, what did he leave thee with?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot rubs his eyes, and says, reflexively, "Nothing."

[sagramore]

Sagramore puts the bottle down pointedly, and leans back on his hands.

[lanselos_du_lac]

A sigh -- he does not want to admit it, but Laertes and Sagramore's way of plying him with food and drink is effective.

Lancelot takes a long drink, covering his wince, then says, "Sagramore, I-- I gave him what I could. I expected he was as trapped as the rest of us."

[sagramore]

"Gave him what thou couldst, what does that mean? Thou art a wreck."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He huffs out something that is not quite a laugh. It is true, what Sagramore says. In answer he says, "I was honest. I was as plain as I could stand. I thought he'd be here to keep talking to."

[sagramore]

"Didst offend him?

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I thought not." He winces, though by this time he knows that's not the case. He takes another drink.

[sagramore]

"What hast thou to regret, then?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Sagramore, I-- said everything. I was as honest as I could be," a sigh. "I know he has was not offended. He was happy, I think."

He rubs his eyes. "I did say everything. I just expected he could not leave."

[sagramore]

"Thou hadst thy love with thee, and then he was gone."