[Closed Post] ..the sky will come for you once..

[lanselos_du_lac]

The day is warm and bright -- it's lovely, in fact -- and so Lancelot is doing his best to ignore the strange tension that has been dogging him over the last few days. He is, of course, keeping to his usual routine, which helps, and now he is in the little clearing where he and Magnus meet for training. He's waiting for Magnus to arrive, checking the straps of Arthur's shield while he waits, and doing his best to clear his head and focus up on what he has determined they need to focus on today.

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[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Were your relationships with Arthur and Guinever comprised primarily of great deeds?" Susan wonders, and then tilts her head. "What makes you feel as if a friend or a lover has done right by you? Me, or Laertes, or Grantaire... or Sagramore, I suppose, or any of your other friends?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Well," he begins, "it sometimes feels that way to me. My service to the King, the honour paid to Guinever. We had some similar smaller day-to-day things, but... perhaps my thinking on this has changed, since arriving here. As for thine other question, that has changed as well. With any of those I love, here, things are very different. I feel best when I know thou'rt all open with me, honest, and that thou'llt help me when I struggle."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan considers all this with pursed lips and a little hum. "I suppose it might be difficult to feel mundane about a relationship with royalty, even if they are incredibly dear to you," she says, eventually. She'd never had that problem in Narnia, but then again, she was the royalty.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"It is complicated. At times, I think our relationships were much as mine are here. Other times, it is clear to me how very different things are."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"How so?" Susan asks. "Because of the difference in secrecy?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Partly, yes. I find that keeping no secrets effects everything else, which I suppose should not be a surprise." He glances down at their hands, tracing fingertips across the back of Susan's wrist. "But-- I worshipped them, I think. They were the people I loved most, and they were the closest to me aside from Bors. But they also often felt... above me. Within my heart, I mean. Arthur never misused that. I think he saw it, and knew it, but Gwen may not have. Or-- not in the same fashion. Either way, that made it easy to sacrifice myself for them. Does that make sense?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It does," she says, quietly.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"None of thee here would ask it if me. Nor would I think thou wouldst wish to be an object of worship."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Never," Susan swears - and then she tilts her head, considers, and says, "I suppose I mightn't hate it in the context of a little scenario whilst we're making love, but I expect that's still tremendously different to how it was with Guinever and Arthur."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot gives her a little smile, "I do, perhaps, worship thee a bit when we are making love. But I meant, as a daily way of being-- thine expectations are nothing like."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

For a moment, a dual-pronged feeling shoots through Susan: a thrill at the confirmation that she perhaps is better for Lancelot than his former loves, and, again, that staunch urge to protect him from anyone who has treated him ill. She sets this, too, aside.

"No," she agrees, and her brow furrows lightly. "But you're still concerned about the magnitude of your deeds?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I think, perhaps, a piece of it is that it is quiet here. Peaceful. And that there is some part of me that worries that," he pauses and takes a breath as it dawns on him. "That somehow I am not enough, if all there is for me to give thee are the small, day to day things."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Well, that's nonsense," says Susan, tone scaling between soft and businesslike. "I like the day-to-day things; they're quite practical. But you do ever so much more than that, you know."

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot glances up, "How dost thou mean?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan regards Lancelot steadily. "Why, you bring me ease."

[lanselos_du_lac]

At that -- both the look and the statement -- some of his tension falls away, his shoulders visibly relaxing, his expression softening.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"That's no small thing," she tells him, her gaze unflinching. "I never imagined I might be this - this - this content."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He thinks, then, of how desperately sad she seemed to him when he first came to know her. How carefully she held herself; how changed she is now, when she's with him and elsewhere, too. His heart hurts to hear her say this, which is strange because this is a good thing to hear.

Lancelot does not look away from that unflinching gaze; rather, he turns a little so he can face her more directly, and leans in a little. "My sweet love," he says, reaching up to brush back her hair, "I thank thee."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"For what? I ought to be the one thanking you!" The briskness of her words is belied by the automatic fluttering of her eyelashes as his hand slips through her hair, the way she sways into his touch.

[lanselos_du_lac]

"Reminding me of what is most important," he says quietly, leaning in to kiss her.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She kisses him back, of course, deeply but honey-slow. They're still holding hands, and she runs her thumb over his knuckles; she moves her other hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, where she lets it rest lightly.

By the time she pulls back for a breath, she's sorted out the next thing she'd like to say. "Your feelings are tremendously important as well. But Lancelot, you make things better. Not worse."

[lanselos_du_lac]

"I'm glad," softly. His thumb brushes her cheek. "I shall keep it in mind."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"See that you do," she says; it comes out sounding unpleasantly like a plea.

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot gathers her in, both arms around her. "I shall, sweet."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan shifts with that gathering, moving so that she's sitting on his lap. "So," she says, tucking his arms more closely around her. Cognizant of the fact that very little of this has been about her, she settles a hand on his chest and says, "Now that we've established that I think you're absolutely enough, that I shouldn't want you to worship me, and that I'm wildly in love with you... what troubles you?"