[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]

"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?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

He laughs a little, softly, but he's definitely easier now than he was when he came in. "I was close to -- Dionysus called it a panic attack, but it wasn't the same as some of them have been. I have not felt quite right these last few days. All of my feelings about Camelot, missing home, wishing something different for myself or Galahad have been on my mind. I think I was hoping it would pass, but between the mansion's tricks, turning us into children, spending time with Galahad -- it hasn't passed."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan's heart aches. "No," she says. "I imagine it wouldn't."

[lanselos_du_lac]

After a pause, a breath, he says, "It has been nearly a year."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It has." For both of them! Susan gives him a searching look. "Longer since you last saw Guinever. Less since you last saw Arthur. And almost exactly that since I first met my dearest friend."

[lanselos_du_lac]

He smiles at her, softly, light kindling in his eyes, softening the sadness. He feels drawn back to himself, to ground.

Lancelot knows that he has always been someone who seeks a lodestar; it's not that he is a follower who needs to be led, but that he looks to set his course by those he loves. He sorely misses his loves back in Britain, at court, and perhaps today it has just overwhelmed him. But what he has with Susan is unlike any other relationship he's had before, and he is so very glad of her.

"I love thee. Thou'rt like no one else I know. It is my great joy to be thy dearest friend."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan kisses him then, softly and on the corner of his mouth. "I'm terribly glad," she says, pressing her forehead against his. "Anniversaries are dreadfully hard, aren't they?" Lancelot will remember how reserved and removed she was around the time of Galahad's wedding, which was roughly a year (by her estimation) since her family's accident. "I'm not surprised it's weighing on you."