[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]

He laughs at Sagramore's reaction, "Thou'rt scandalized! I thought this was known, amongst the court. But it was not uncommon for a child to have a baptismal name, and then be given another use name at confirmation, when one was somewhat older. So at baptism, and until I was perhaps five or six... maybe seven, I was called Galahad."

He is certainly tipsy enough if he can reveal this without any show of mixed emotion or faltering. (It does help that things between himself and Galahad have improved a good deal.)

[sagramore]

Unfortunately, Sagramore looks at him in mild horror as he puts two and two together. "She named him after thee?"

[futaille]

"... No."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot blinks -- he hadn't even been thinking of this as he said it, and he supposes that is down to the alcohol and the sense of comfort and ease that he feels in their company. He's not wholly sure how he feels about their reaction.

"Oh," he says, faltering a little, "yes. It is part of how I finally understood Galahad to be speaking the truth when I first arrived."

[sagramore]

"Grantaire, kiss him. He needs a kiss, and I can't do it."

[futaille]

Grantaire shrugs. "Fair enough." He promptly boosts himself up to lean far enough over the bar to give Lancelot a kiss.

[lanselos_du_lac]

He kisses Grantiare back with a sweetness, perhaps a little uncertain but not hesitating.

[sagramore]

Sagramore makes an approving sound. "Better. Definitely an improvement."

[futaille]

He pulls back, still half-hoisted onto the bar. "Always happy to do my part."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot, however, reels him back in for another -- this one far more certain and cheerful.

[sagramore]

He gives them a fond look -- what else can he do? -- and returns to the bar.

[futaille]

He lets the kiss linger a bit longer before settling back. "An excellent turn of conversation, I think."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot sits back, looking only faintly abashed but much more glad, a little flushed. "Any excuse to kiss thee is a good turn."

[sagramore]

Rather than interfere with their moment, Sagramore just pours everyone another glass.

[futaille]

"Then let me say with some confidence that you really never need an excuse."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He finishes his glass, so that he can pull over the one Sagramore has just poured, "I should take more opportunities, then."

[sagramore]

"Well, that's obvious."

[futaille]

He grabs his own glass. "I only see benefits to myself from this resolution, so I can hardly argue the point."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Dryly, into his new glass, Lancelot says, "Sagramore has a great many opinions when it comes to my love life."

[sagramore]

"Is that a problem? Art thou complaining?"

[futaille]

He raises his hand. "I'm not, at least." He polishes that off with a sip of his drink.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I have done what was thy dearest wish," says Lancelot, with a drunken loftiness. "Though I suppose when it comes to Grantaire, it may be reasonable for thee to keep on pestering."

[sagramore]

"I'll continue to pester, thank thee, as long as it seems necessary."

[futaille]

"There is a conversation here that I am apparently too woefully uninformed to participate in."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot turns back to Grantaire. "Sagramore," he begins, almost confidingly, "would not rest until I lay with his husband."