[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]

"How dost thou suppose we may find out Sagramore's trick?" They're nearing the mansion at last, but Lancelot keeps Grantaire's hand for now.

[futaille]

"I suppose walking up to him and just saying 'Sagramore, how?' would probably be ineffective."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"He will claim a natural gift, previously unrevealed to us."

[futaille]

"We could have him demonstrate."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"We could," thoughtfully, "And if he claims luck?"

[futaille]

"Do you think he would claim luck?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Backed into a corner? Perhaps."

[futaille]

"Possibly, but luck isn't as satisfying a claim to resort to. Luck can smile on anyone." He pauses. "Except for one friend we had in Paris who luck avoided at all costs, but that's beside the point."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"That's unfortunate," light but sincere. "I admit I agree, Sagramore is most likely to claim skill."

[futaille]

"And therefore we can beg for instruction."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Or demonstration. If he's done it once he can certainly do so again."

[futaille]

"Exactly. And if we watch we might be able to figure out how he did it."

[lanselos_du_lac]

As they approach the mansion, Lancelot holds the door open for Grantaire. "Let's hope we can get to the bottom of this. I know he's planned it to irk us."

[futaille]

Grantaire steps through the door with a wry smile. "I'm a little impressed at the ingenuity, honestly."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"He loves to be a thorn in my side," dry, but fond.

[futaille]

"There really is something delightful about being a thorn sometimes."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I can only pray that the two of thee don't band together against me."

[futaille]

"Oh, now that you put the thought in my head, I have no guarantees."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Alas! Very well. Let it be a test of my love for thee."

[futaille]

He laughs almost incredulously. "If you'd like to phrase it so."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I just did," with exaggerated cheer, "so clearly I would indeed like to."

[futaille]

"Ah, true. People never do things they don't like, after all."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Well, that's not true, but I feel thou dost take my meaning."

[futaille]

He lets out a short laugh. "Clearly my thoughts are entirely too legible at the moment, as you are quite correct."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Someday I will speak of my fondness for thee and thou wilt not argue back," as they enter the game room.