[Closed Post] ..the plan means nothing stays the same..

[lanselos_du_lac]

In the few days since Dark ended, even Lancelot has noticed himself feeling easier. He had not thought himself much affected by Dark, aside from his concern for Susan and those he cares about who were facing their own struggles during the month; it's something of a surprise to find that his relief is also deep-set, for himself. There is a strange kind of hope that he doesn't recall feeling before, in anticipation of spring. He realizes that the pace will change, and that he is looking forward to spring and summer in this new place.

He's been considering whether he should move some of his things back to his own room. He has not stayed the night there since Susan asked him to stay with her during Dark, and he is happy to admit that this arrangement has been deeply pleasant. Lancelot has never experienced something so ... domestic as this. (He so rarely was able to wake up next to Guinever, that the first few times he woke up next to Susan after they began seeing each other, it felt like a very deep intimacy.) He doesn't, however, want to presume anything -- he knows Susan has appreciated having him close, he knows their relationship has grown deeper, but he isn't sure whether she wants him to stay with her at night on a more permanent basis. He suspects she might want her own space back, once she's recovered her equilibrium.

As ever, he has maintained his routine. He has also seen the invitation to Dionysus' party. It's this that was on his mind as he set out for the training yard this morning -- it was brisk and cold, but not so much the punishing cold of deep Dark -- and this he let himself idly consider while making his way through drills. (Thinking about it during drilling helps, because thinking about it otherwise has made him feel anxious -- he will never know what he ought to wear, or what to expect.)

By the time he has finished, he knows that there are several subjects that he needs to discuss with Susan when they meet for lunch.

Comments

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Lancelot is clearly going through something now; Susan can feel it in the tremble of his fingers against her cheek. Very well. She likes that she can be grounding for him, and she pours that into the kiss.

[lanselos_du_lac]

After a long, long moment he breaks the kiss and brushes back her hair. He looks a little overcome, flushed and softly adoring. "Thou'rt fierce."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes," she agrees.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"It suits me well."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I'm glad," says Susan, leaning in to kiss him again... when the timer in her pocket goes up. She jolts, surprised, slapping at it to make it stop. "It seems the turnovers are done," she says, a little rueful.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs a little. "Then we best attend to them."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She kisses him once more, firmly, and then slides reluctantly off his lap, offering her hand to him as she stands.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He takes it, getting to his feet, and twines their fingers together, smiling at her.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Sweetheart," she says, bringing their hands up so she can kiss his knuckles. She lets her mouth linger there for a moment, but she is, as ever, responsible and task-oriented, so it's not a terribly long moment before she's leading him back to the kitchen.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot follows easily; he's starting to feel settled, again, and also to realize that he's hungry. He'd forgotten, a bit, that lunch was their project. "Tell me what I need to do to assist."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I shall require milk and flour," says Susan, grabbing an oven mitt and bending to remove the turnovers from the oven. She does a little wiggle as she's bending over, too, just in case Lancelot happens to be watching her and should like to see it.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He does catch it, and he grins, "I shall bring those, an thou dost not distract me."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Primly, as she sets the hot tray on the unused half of the stove, she says, "I shan't make any promises."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He fetches first the milk, then the flour, and brings them over to the counter. "No, I don't suppose that's anything thou canst promise."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"A little bowl now, if you please," she tells him, smiling brightly, helplessly, at him.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot finds one in a cabinet, a milky blue one, the smallest of a nested set. "Will this do?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Quite nicely," Susan says, taking it. She pours in some milk, then tips in some flour, whisking it together briskly. This she puts in the soup, stirring carefully. Tasks accomplished - the turnovers shall need to cool, and the soup shall need to cook for a few more minutes - she takes Lancelot's hands in hers again.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot squeezes her hands lightly, "It smells good."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It shall be ready in a moment," she says, drawing their arms out to their sides and, in doing so, tugging him close.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He smiles down at her, bright and once again easy. "I am patient."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"You're lovely."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Then we are well-matched."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She tugs him as she moves back to the stove, so that he's standing behind her, holding her, as she stirs the soup again.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He is happy to do so, leaning into her a little, bending to kiss her cheek.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Now who's distracting?" she asks, pleased.