[Open Post] ..only want to glean the purpose..

[lanselos_du_lac]

Since they learned of Shen Yuan's death, things have been subdued; rightly so, Lancelot reasons. He has done what he can to be a support for those he loves, and to keep his own worry and anxiety at bay. He worries about how they are all doing, about whether or not they are safe, about what he can do to make anything better -- which often feels like nothing. It's unsettling, and he wants to stay settled and present for them, so he determines to find a way to be so.

As has always been the case for him, being outside helps. The weather is warming and true spring is settling in. (He has difficulty keeping track of what time may be like back in Britain¹, but he suspects that it is early summer there. If so, then he supposes that means he is another year older, which is a strangely hopeful thought.) And so, after his lunch with Susan, he heads back out -- he might ride, or walk through the woods, or explore the lake. Whatever keeps him out in the sunshine, under the sky.



^{1: He has not quite realized this yet, but he has generally stopped thinking "at home" when he means Camelot, or Britain in general. That this place -- no, these people -- have become home in so short a span is something he has to take by degrees, lest he worry about what it means for his relationship with those he left behind there.}

Comments

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I mean to say, today or tomorrow?"

[futaille]

"May as well be today. Who knows what will happen tomorrow."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"A fair point. Where shall we find him?"

[futaille]

"I'm not sure. Worth checking the house he and Laertes are building, probably."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Ah," there's a minute shift in his expression, but he shakes that off and says. "Yes. That seems most likely. Shall we go?"

[futaille]

His eyebrows rise a bit at that shift of expression but he makes no comment. "Absolutely."

[lanselos_du_lac]

A little smile, and he sets off. "Dost think he'll come right away, or do we need to invent a tale?"

[futaille]

"If he doesn't come right away, we can invent a tale."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye, very well," laughing a little. "I shall leave that to thee, an it comes to it."

[futaille]

"Excellent. I'm at my best when I have no time to prepare."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Thy cleverness outclasses me, as well."

[futaille]

"Different kinds of cleverness, is all."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Cleverness with words is all thine," elbowing him a little. "I wonder what cleverness Sagramore has stumbled on to make this happen. I still cannot figure it."

[futaille]

"Neither can I. He's outstripped us both in cleverness on that, at the very least."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"We shall have the truth of it soon enough."

[futaille]

"Or at the very least we'll have an entertaining attempt to avoid the truth."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Aye, that is so," he laughs.

[futaille]

"Truly, I'm hoping for both."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Oh? Why's that?"

[futaille]

"That way we find out how he did it and still get entertained on the way."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs, "See? Clever."

[futaille]

"As clever as I need to be to find the best entertainment I can."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I am lucky to benefit." They're coming up on the house, now, and Lancelot nods toward it. "Wouldst call for him?"

[futaille]

Grantaire promptly cups his hands around his mouth and booms quite readily, "Oh great pinball master, we come seeking your wisdom!" In case that didn't work, though, he then steps up to knock on the door.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot stands back a bit, folds his arms, and waits.