[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

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Is that so?" A tiny pause. "What dost thou think of?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Well," says Susan, and for once, the businesslike tone she tends to affect when she isn't certain of how to address her feelings is being used exclusively to tease Lancelot. "For example, one might consider that you've got a very clever mouth, and reflect on what it might look like to see you learning to apply it in new ways."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Of course he flushes at hearing this, but he smiles as well. "Really," with a laugh.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She pats his cheek fondly. "Oh, yes," she says, and after leaning up to replace her hand with a quick little kiss right where the flush is deepest, takes the dish full of shredded cheese over to her pastry dough. She mixes half of it in with the filling, and sprinkles the other half over the dough, rolling it carefully into it. "Is that so surprising?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye," with frank honesty. He comes to lean against the counter and watch her work. "Perhaps only because I am so used to... well. A different mindset, I suppose."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan takes up a knife and starts cutting the dough into squares. "I suppose that makes sense," she says, as she works. "And if it makes you uncomfortable, we needn't discuss it." She can (reluctantly) respect a wish to keep a clear division with such things. "I simply want you to know that I'd love to help you unpick your thoughts about your other interests and desires, should you wish to talk them through."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot considers, "It does not make me uncomfortable to speak of such things with thee. I was concerned, I think, for thy feelings. That perhaps thou wouldst not wish to hear such details, or that it might concern thee that I ... was not devoted enough. I think."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan sets the knife down again. "You are the sweetest," she says, businesslike again but for the traditional reason this time, pausing briefly to stir the soup. "Do you know how to prepare an egg wash?" If he doesn't, she can. She twists to look at him, fondly. "I've got no concerns about your devotion, sweetheart."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I do not, but am thou canst explain I can make an egg wash." He pauses, "And I did not think thou didst. But it is a fear of mine."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"One egg, cracked and beaten, and thinned with a splash of water or milk. Either is fine." There's a pastry brush in a drawer of loose implements next to where she's established herself, and she takes it out now. "Is there a way I might assuage the fear?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot nods firmly, and goes to the cold box to find an egg. "I think there is no way, love," he says, almost apologetic, "it is a long ingrained habit."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Then I shall help you break it."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He flashes her a grin, "I welcome that."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan starts measuring filling into the center of each square of dough while Lancelot finishes the egg wash. "So," she says. "Have you any thoughts on others that you'd like to talk about now?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs softly, as he starts to follow her instructions. "Well, at present, as I am sure thou dost know, I have only any experience with two others here."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes, and," she says, encouragingly, "is there anything you'd like to sort out?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs a little, "I'm not sure. I think things are well? I think thou knowest that affairs with the both of them have not progressed as ours have."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan relents. "I do," she says; of the two of them, she's the one likely to jump into bed with someone new at the first opportunity (Janet, somehow, excepted). "And if you've got any concerns or questions about such progressions, I'm happy to talk through them with you. If you'd rather not, that's fine too, of course," she hastens to add. "I could speak, instead, on the marvel of having so many vegetables to work with again."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Well," he pauses -- not hesitation, but more seeking words for what he's thinking. "It is only that, I think my slowness means little to Grantaire, who seems happy regardless, but may be a frustration to Laertes. We've spoken on it, and things have progressed further with him as well, but I dread to try his patience overmuch. He is... important to me."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Do you think?" Susan asks, spooning the last of the filling onto the last of the pastry squares¹ and turning to get the egg wash from Lancelot. "It seems to me as if he's unflaggingly adamant that he shall never ask for more than what you're willing to give."


¹Her food might not be "super" "flavorful" but she has the rarest of kitchen superpowers (filling to wrapper ratio is always impeccable).

[lanselos_du_lac]

"That is true, and so he has said. But that does not mean than one might long for more than what one might ask for."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Egg wash in hand, Susan uses it to start sealing the turnovers, moving each closed one to a baking tray, where she vents the tops and brushes them with more of the wash. "If I didn't have the, ah, rather ravenous appetites that I do, how long do you think you might have waited for me?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Without hesitation, he says, "As long as I must. Eternity. An thou didst not come to desire me, or act on that desire, it would be no matter to me."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She raises her eyebrows at him pointedly.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He levels a look at her, "Susan. Thou'rt not myself. I am not Laertes. He does not -- or may not, I suppose -- feel for me as I do for thee. Thou'rt sharp enough to know this."