[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]

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."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

The turnovers are ready for the oven. Susan sets the egg wash and brush to the side, wipes her fingers on a dishcloth, and goes to embrace Lancelot, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I know," she says softly. "But he strikes me as earnest and trustworthy, and he cares about you a great deal. I don't believe he'd commit to patience if he didn't mean it. And it isn't as if he's got no one to meet his, ah, needs."

[lanselos_du_lac]

His arms go around her immediately, without thought. "He is earnest. I do trust him. I care for him, as well."

He pauses, because the thought comes up -- as a brother -- but he knows that isn't what he means; and then, besides, there is the complicated knot of feelings for Arthur, who has called him brother, and he still cannot explain the ways that his feelings for and about Laertes abut those he has for Arthur. (They are not the same. Laertes is not Arthur, and is little enough like him. But there is that sense in him that the quality of his care is similar enough to scrape, and he does not know what to do with or about that.)

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She relaxes into his hold. "And if the tables were turned, you'd wait for him as well?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Quietly, holding her a little closer, he says, "Of course. I would."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"But it's harder to trust him to do the same?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"No, it's--" He glances away, and there's a little pause. "I trust him. I'm... not always sure of my place, is all. Of..."

Whether he is worthy? Whether he is worth the wait? He doesn't know.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan studies him for a protracted moment. When she first arrived, she hadn't the wherewithal to moderate the intensity of her most piercing of looks. She doesn't bother now, either - not with Lancelot, who already knows the extent of the keenness of her attention and sharpness of her assessments. Then she nods. "I ought to put the turnovers into the oven," she tells him, and withdraws from his hold with a squeeze of his hand.

By the time she's closed the door behind them, she's sorted out what she thinks she's seen, and what she wants to say. She closes the distance between them again. "Have you asked him about your place?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"We've... spoken of our feelings. I am as honest with him as I know how to be. He says that he loves me, which again, I do not doubt." If there is something like except lingering there, he doesn't say so. "The last time we spoke on it, when he learned I had been ill, he was at first very distressed, and so I know that he is sincere in his feelings. We also spoke of how I would put thee first, since Magnus had asked something like that, and I was curious to see whether he thought of his bond with Sagramore in a similar fashion."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan's hands have found Lancelot's waist; she tucks them under his shirt and draws patterns with her fingertips as she listens to him. When he pauses, she gives him a look, inquiring and encouraging.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"So," a little hesitation, "the trouble does not lie with Laertes, I suppose, but in myself."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

As she thought. "Do you know the source of your concerns?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I--" He makes a face, frowning slightly. "Susan, I know well enough that it is... ridiculous. I worry that I will not please him. I worry that asking him to wait is asking too much. I worry that, once we are no longer waiting, I will be a disappointment, or he will tire of me. I want-- I want to keep him."