[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]

"What is the game that is not pinball? Thou knowest -- I think the both of thee have played it."

[sagramore]

"Shen Yuan's game? No, that's Shen Yuan's. Besides," with a gusty sigh, "he wouldn't get into the spirit of it. I know him."

[futaille]

"Billiards, maybe?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"That's the one."

[sagramore]

"Etienne Grantaire."

[futaille]

He grins. "Yes?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Wait-- what?"

[sagramore]

"What what?"

[futaille]

"Oh, is it my turn? What what what?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot laughs, "Étienne. I didn't know."

[sagramore]

"I've let thy secret out."

[futaille]

"It's really not a secret! I just hardly ever used it, and suddenly everyone here is fascinated."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I see," Lancelot says thoughtfully. He takes another drink. "I have but the one name, though I did have another when I was small."

[sagramore]

"--What?" rounding on him.

[futaille]

"Oh, yes, do tell about your other name!"

[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.