[Closed Post] ..shining through the hollow..

[lanselos_du_lac]

Once Lancelot has left Magnus and Galahad in the greenhouse, he goes looking for Laertes. He can admit he has had the urge to check in on everyone, in the wake of Magnus' incident, but he has realized that it's been some days and he misses Laertes' company.

So he goes seeking, checking in on the places he thinks Laertes might be, and eventually finding him in that same parlor they'd sat together in before. Lancelot pauses in the doorway, and then clears his throat and says, "I do hope I'm not interrupting."

Despite the clear fact that he intends to interrupt. He is grinning.

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Yes. I would have come to see thee sooner, to make sure thou'rt well, but I was unwell and Susan enforced rest." This last is also a bit joking; he was too spent to do anything except rest, and he's grateful for Susan's care.

[timebethine]

"Then we've both been our lovers' inmates--but now that thou seest me well, thy work is done." He shows no sign of wanting to let Lancelot go.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot shows no desire to be elsewhere; if anything, he leans a little more against him.

"'Inmate' seems dire. But-- wert thou also unwell?"

[timebethine]

"It's nothing," says Laertes, although he immediately qualifies it with, "Sagramore hath a great worry for my headaches. They've been worse, this season. Not three days go by without one, of late."

[lanselos_du_lac]

His brow furrows, "That sounds not like 'nothing.' What are they like, for thee?"

[timebethine]

Wryly, "I can bear neither light, nor scent, nor sound, nor taste. Even the movement of Szarka in my lap overwhelms me, and I must empty my guts. The pain belabors me without surcease, sometimes for as little as an hour and more often for the better part of a day. There's nothing like it. It hath no border or shore. It radiates out from here--" and he frees one hand to hold it over his left eye "--like a black and pestilent sun."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Laertes, that sounds dreadful. I do not doubt that Sagramore worries, especially if thou hast had so many!"

[timebethine]

"In any other month, it's not so bad," Laertes protests. "But once or twice a month, if that. Even less, here, where the clime is so temperate; before Dark was upon us, I think I'd had but two or three. But this month has gone hard with me."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot strokes his hair. "Would that I had known. I would check on thee more often."

[timebethine]

"If I could not bear Szarka in my lap, I certainly couldn't bear thee--much though I adore thee in my lap." Laertes nudges up into his hand, his eyes half-closed, like a great cat being stroked. "Hast thou any ailments?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He lets himself toy with Laertes' hair. "Usually, I am quite well. I am rarely ill. This week was different -- I was glad of Susan's care and help."

[timebethine]

"Is there aught I can do for thee? To help thee?" ... and he may be forgiven, he hopes, if the form of help he is currently offering is soft kisses to Lancelot's throat.

[lanselos_du_lac]

That feels nice, and there is nothing to forgive. "Ah, no. I am mostly recovered, now. I was overtaxed and too long in the cold without gear whilst assisting Magnus, and had a chill and a fever, for a time."

[timebethine]

A sudden break in the kisses. "In the cold? But he said he was injured indoors--why wert thou in the cold?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"He was -- in one of the corridors. It is fortunate I came across him when I did. I worked to get the blade free and staunch the bleeding, for which I had to use my belt and tunic, but there was little else I could do and I would not leave him. He said he could heal himself, most likely, if I took him to the greenhouse, so I did."

[timebethine]

Then all at once Laertes is pulling Lancelot in and clutching him tight. "Thou without a tunic in that cold? And Magnus too wounded to warm thee? No wonder thou didst catch an ague! My sweet man, that was bravely done, but so, so rashly done!"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot blinks. He could not say why, but he didn't expect this reaction.

"Of course it was rash, but there was nothing for it. Once he was in the greenhouse he had me seek Lan Wangji, which I did, and then--" Well. Perhaps he should slide the part where he also spent an unknown amount of time running hither and yon to be sure they had what they needed.

[timebethine]

"I'm not angry," says Laertes, subsiding, running his hands down Lancelot's back in quick, convulsive strokes. "I promise thee, I'm not angry. I only feared for thee--thou art precious beyond measure, and to think I'd nearly lost thee--nearly lost thee days ago--it harrows me. Thou didst well. Thou wert so brave. Thou wert every inch a knight."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Oh," vaguely surprised. Precious beyond measure. Somehow he didn't expect this level of intensity. He resists the urge to wave off the praise, but this means that he's stuck for a moment before he says, a bit stupidly, "Dost feel so strongly for me?"

[timebethine]

Quietly, "An thou shouldst like it not, I'll go from thee."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"What?" There's a little alarm, "No. I did not say I mislike it. I'm only-- I think I underestimated thine affections."

Lancelot strokes Laertes' cheek. "I admire thee so much, and I like thee so well-- I think it is like the time that I did not think you could have any interest in me aside from friendship."

[timebethine]

"As I care for thee, and admire thee," says Laertes. He curls his hand over Lancelot's, knuckles mapped to knuckles, cradling that touch as though it's something precious. "I do not seek a swift tumble with a handsome man--I would be thy fast friend, and thy lover, and have a concern in the safe keeping of thee."

[lanselos_du_lac]

This calls up another blush, and Lancelot leans against him, brushing his thumb across Laertes' skin. "I welcome thy care," quietly.

[timebethine]

"How wouldst thou have me show that care?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He pauses to consider, then says, "I would have thee show thy care in ways that are natural to thee. I am still learning, in some ways, what I like -- I am not well-used to being free enough to love so openly. If I am over-cautious, it's old habit."

But then another look flits across his face, thoughtful. "Could I-- I have questions, and I would know thy thoughts."