[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

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Eventually," threading their fingers together. "I knew it would go hard for him to learn he could not go back." A pause, and he clears his throat. "We had a good evening, at the last. But-- it is like a death, for him to be gone."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I know that feeling well," says Susan, squeezing his hand. "Do you think the evening being a good one makes it worse, or better?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Another sigh, "I don't know. Somehow it seems both are true."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

A pause. "What is most difficult for you, right now?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I do not know," he tries very hard not to sound bleak. "So much happened. So much was said. I do not even know that he understood me, in all."

After another few steps he halts, tugging gently at Susan's hand -- a suggestion, to turn and face him.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan does, easily turning on her heel and looking up at him. He really does look so dreadfully sad - it's impressive, actually; Susan has long since reached a point where her own sadness, when felt, barely shows on her face. She reaches with her free hand to cup his cheek, running her thumb gently over the unshaven scruff there.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot shifts closer to her, minutely. "There is something I should tell thee," quiet and serious. His expression is sad and earnest. "But-- I do not want to make thee feel as if--"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Say it."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He flushes -- it would be easier if Susan would demure, wave him away from the thought. But he knows that, if she did, she would not be Susan. He doesn't want that.

"I understood, once he pressed me, that there are several reasons I would stay here, rather than return to court, no matter how deep my love for the king and queen." He holds himself like a man who is bracing for something, for one more shattering thing to happen. "But foremost in those reasons, is thee. I thought of thee. I would stay with thee."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan is well-studied in stillness, and so she doesn't withdraw. She studies him for a long, long moment - perhaps even too long, but her eyes are constantly roving over his face, as if trying to read the meaning under his words. Her first thought is, has he changed his mind about wanting to bind me? because she has taken that assurance at face value and rather run with it, lately. But he hasn't said anything indicating that he's changed his mind, so - that's a worry for another time, perhaps.

Her second thought is that he looks very much like he's waiting for her to strike him. That's absolutely not her wish. She likes him very much, for all that she's truly taken aback that this is the thing he said he had to tell her.

Her third thought - you do not want to make me feel as if... what? - she sets aside, because she hates the fragile look growing across his face. She might not know what she wants to say, but that doesn't mean she can't do. A placeholder of sorts, she steps forward and then leans up and kisses him, soft and sweet.

[lanselos_du_lac]

The flood of relief at this kiss -- though he understands well that this is not the end of the discussion -- is a little overwhelming. His arms go around her, though he forces himself to keep that touch light.

He is not trying to sway her, one way or the other, but if any person should know about this key omission in what he said to Arthur it is Susan herself.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Oh, she does like him, she likes him terribly much. When she pulls away from the kiss, she rests her head briefly against his chest, relishing in his embrace.

Then, reluctantly, she steps away. "What," she says, and has to clear her throat; her voice is hoarse. "What do you most fear him misunderstanding?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot moves a little toward her, even as she steps away. "I think, in honesty, he understood me well," thoughtfully. "In terms of what I told him. But-- thou wert on my mind, and I did not mention thee. Only because... well. If he was right, there was no sense in him carrying this back to the queen. It would change nothing, between us, and would only serve to hurt her more."

He gives her a searching look. "I just knew that, given the choice, I am happier here. Hard as that went."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan listens to this last, and then nods to herself and leans back against him. "I miss London," she confesses, more quiet than strident, now. "There are people there that I love, too. But-" But that's not getting her meaning across, she thinks, so she adjusts course. "When Lucy was here she told me about how things are going, in Aslan's country. That's what she kept calling it: Aslan's country. Aslan, the great Lion of Narnia, like as not - nevermind. She's in Aslan's country, because she's dead, and Narnia is also apparently no more. My entire family wants for nothing, according to Lucy. They all have exactly what they need and it doesn't occur to them to change, or want, or anything like that, because everything is perfect and all their possible desires are immediately met, and I keep thinking-" She hides her face in his shirt for a moment, steeling herself. "I keep thinking about how jolly bloody miserable that sounds."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He smooths a hand down her back, gathers her in, presses his cheek to her hair. For a moment, he is overcome.

"Aye," he says, very softly. "I think I understand thee."

Then he enfolds her in his arms, lets out a long breath. (They can talk, later, about the shape of this. Of what it means. He admits, he doesn't know. What matters most is that she did not walk away from him. She didn't shut him out. That she is here in his arms, and it doesn't need to mean anything specific, except that they care for one another.)

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan lets herself be held. There is more that she would say, more that she would ask, but for now she is quiet and warm.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot keeps her there, relaxing against her.

After a little space of time he says, "Thou hast made me happy, given me new things to consider. I miss them, dreadfully. But here, at least, I think I can try something else."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh?" says Susan. "What next for Sir Lancelot?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs a little, "Anything. Something good."

Lancelot draws away a little, bringing one hand up to lift her chin, lightly. "I know not what might pass between thee and me. I only know I would not leave thee. Whatever that means, we can both decide. But thou has shown me-- some way I could both know myself and not know my next step. I like that."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"A wise man told me something once. Would you like to hear it?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye, I would, very much."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"We are meant to understand things in pieces," Susan says - a little impishly, in truth; she hopes he recognizes that she's quoting what he said that terrible day she first remembered Narnia back to him.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot does recognize this, and he laughs -- with more sincere delight and joy than he has since he woke up several mornings ago to find Arthur vanished.

He brushes her cheek, "Lady, I believe I said perhaps-- but no matter. Thou'rt correct."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Though Susan has found it easier to smile recently, she still largely defaults to the simple, easily-fixed flirtatious smile or - increasingly - the small, ugly but genuine one.

It must be said, now, that she beams up at Lancelot. "I believe I warned you once, sir, that you'll find I often am."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye, I recall that, too." He can't help himself -- he kisses her forehead, brushing her cheek again. His smile, his expression, is no longer tentative but warm.