[Closed Post] ..lines we're leaving behind..

[lanselos_du_lac]

He doesn't really mean to, but Lancelot keeps to his rooms for a time in the wake of the latest mansion upheaval. He doesn't disappear for days, and he mostly keeps his routines -- he does spend a little more time riding -- but he is subdued and not idly floating about for socializing.

It could have been worse. He knows this. He knows, too, that no one did this on purpose; he's grateful for Susan and Nightingale's understanding. But none of that makes it easier to regain his emotional balance. Much like that day (which felt very long), he is still grappling occasionally with that sensation of being... just outside of himself, a step removed, dizzy and longing to be even further away.

Still, he does not want to punish Susan and he knows they should talk. So this morning after he puts up Rivelin, he goes to find Susan, wherever she might be.

Comments

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan can be found near one of the third-floor storerooms. She's been coping with returning to her body - which is, once again, shorter than she expected it to be, with narrower shoulders than both her brief stint as Thomas and her first adulthood alike - by trying, with almost no avail, to bully the Mansion into giving her anything else from Narnia. (She's perhaps even grumpier than might be expected, following a bodyswap, because she's been working very hard on respecting Lancelot's evident need for space instead of crowding herself against him the way that she really wants to be doing.)

So intent is she on yanking the door open, peering inside, and closing it again with a huff that she doesn't notice Lancelot approaching.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He senses this, seeing both her annoyance and her focus, and once he's close enough he says gently, "Susan-- hello."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan abandons the door immediately, swiveling on her heels. "Lancelot!"

[lanselos_du_lac]

As always, he smiles to see her. He holds out a hand to her.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She hesitates for the barest of seconds, giving him a deeply searching look, before ignoring his hand and flinging her arms around him. "Hello," she says, muffled against his shirt, and then: "You smell like horse."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot gathers her in, both of his arms fast around her, and kisses her temple. "Aye, I've been riding."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I can tell," tilting her head back in case he should like to kiss her properly.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He would very much like that, and he does. A long, sweet kiss that speaks of both missing her and apology.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She clings to him and to that kiss, moving her hands along his back and feeling his solidity under them. She shan't break it first.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He eventually lets a hand come up to cup her cheek, drawing it out for some while before he finally murmurs, "Hello, sweet."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She chases his mouth, and then draws away, but only enough that she can run her hands over him - his shoulders, his chest, his face. "Are you all right?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He smiles at her, a mostly solid smile, "I'm well. Art thou?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh," she says, immediately shrugging off the question and cupping his face in her hands. "That mustn't have been pleasant for you."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He sobers a little, and leans slightly into her touch. "No," he says quietly, "It was... difficult."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She gives him a soft, searching look. "Would you like to come to my room to talk?" she asks. "Since no-one will stumble across us there. Or is that too--"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He strokes her cheek, gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. "Aye, sweet, I will."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan, however, is not very reassured. But she believes that being in her room will do more good than harm; it's best that he not form any negative associations with it. "We shall stop by the kitchen on the way," she says, firmly, even though every kitchen is rather out of the way. Then she steps away from Lancelot, squares her shoulders, glares at the door to the store-room, and yanks it open again. This time, at least, it produces the basket she's looking for now; she takes the basket in one hand and wraps the other around Lancelot's arm.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot puts a hand over hers and gives her another soft look before leading them down to the nearest kitchen.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Once there, Susan - what else? - flicks the electric kettle on to make tea. She starts rummaging through cabinets, pulling out bread - not Laertes's good homemade stuff, but an adequate baguette that the Mansion coughs up when she yanks the pantry door open firmly. This she hands to Lancelot. "Be a dear and slice this open?" she asks as she heads to the icebox. "Lengthwise, for a sandwich."

Inside the icebox she discovers a roasted chicken, which she also hands to Lancelot to slice, and some salad and cheese and condiments, which will sort out herself.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot quite happily does as she says. He finds, the last few days, that things are easiest when he has something to focus on. It matters little whether that is sword forms or slicing bread.

He makes short work of the baguette, and then the chicken, slicing it as thinly as he can manage.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan rewards his work with a kiss to the cheek. "Find some accompaniments that you might want with a sandwich?" she asks him, going to slather the bread with condiments and then stuff it with the chicken, cheese, and salad. "I fancy some gherkins, if you can find them, but we ought to have other things, too." It's not even lunchtime yet; she just plans to stay with him as long as he can stand it and is provisioning them accordingly.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot is, in fact, a little adrift with this instruction, but he smiles and says, "Of course."

He finds that thinking what Susan would want at the refrigerator is relatively successful. He does find gherkins (which is foreign to him, but thankfully there's a label), as well as some plain crisps and a few other things. All of these he adds to the basket.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Maybe some fruit?" Susan adds, a little distractedly as she wraps the sandwich tightly and places it, a knife, and some dishes into the basket. The kettle is boiling now, so she goes to put tea and sugar in her thermos and pour the water over it. "And a small bottle of milk, if you can produce one."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye," he says, easily. He manages to produce both -- the milk is simple enough, and the fruit that appears is strawberries, which seems (in this weather) an improbable luxury.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan keeps mugs in her room, obviously, so once the tea and milk and berries are tucked into her basket, she thinks they're all set. Oh, except - she grabs a packet each of digestive biscuits and jaffa cakes, and balances them on top.

"There," she says, satisfied. "Do you mind terribly carrying this up with us?" (She's able and happy to, as well, but she imagines he might like being made useful.)