(no subject)

[lastgunslinger]

Roland makes to trudge upstairs at the end of the evening, but stops. The cure for a heavy heart -- as he well knows after all this time -- is hard work.

Roland is a dinh.

So he goes to see if he can find Susannah. It's been a while since he's spoken to her.

He knocks on the door of the Dean residence.

Comments

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

Susannah opens the door, knitting needles in her hair and gun parts in her hand, from where she's been tending to the Gilead Special.

She smiles when she sees her dinh.

"Roland. Come in."

She swings the door open and wheels back to the desk, where the rest of the gun is laying.

[lastgunslinger]

He does, and hovers by the door, watching for a moment.

"You're well?"

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She bows her head, snapping the cylinder back into the gun.

"I am. I'm... I'm sorry I haven't been around, Roland."

She spins the cylinder, now, watching the light gleam off of it, until she's satisfied, then looks back to him.

She has the knowing eyes of some wild animals.

"How have you been?"

[lastgunslinger]

He looks at her for a moment. "Why?"

And watches her with the gun. Her actions are familiar. Soothing.

"Well."

It's true. He's been worse. A lot worse.

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

"I still haven't met Alain, for one. For another..." She looks down at the gun in her hands, "I'm quite interested in seeing this demon Eddie told me about."

She looks back up at him.

Pauses.

Softly:

"You don't look exactly 'well,' Roland."

[lastgunslinger]

His arms are folded across his chest, and he's leaning against the wall, now -- much as he did with Eddie the other night.

He looks at her, and for a long moment he says nothing.

His eyes shift to the ground.

He doesn't want to say anything. But if he can tell anyone -- anyone -- it will be Eddie or Susannah.

Roland struggles to find a door in. He does.

Quietly, still looking at the floor: "Have you encountered any of the Seven in this place, Susannah?"

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She lays the gun back on the desk, quietly. This is no time for weapons.

Her voice is quiet, as well, treading softly.

"Aye, I saw Death, in passing. She seemed--"

(dangerous safe young old wise foolish my Lady)

"--interesting. Someone I'd like to speak with further, if carefully."

She looks back at the gun a moment, then back at her dinh.

"Why?"

[lastgunslinger]

Roland is still looking at the floor.

He'd never thought that these words would be so hard to say.

"I love her."

His voice isn't choked. Just quiet. Even when he continues.

"Her heart belongs to another."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

"Oh, Roland."

A brief flare, in her eyes. Sympathy. Love. Anger.

(who's da sumbitch we gon' hafta shoot?)

"Say sorry."

[lastgunslinger]

He shrugs, roughly.

"It is what it is. There is nothing to be done."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She wheels forward, carefully.

"She probably wouldn't like it if I shot the sumbitch, would she?"

There's a sort of smile on her face. It's not the nicest smile that ever was. It's a smile that lopes and growls.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland looks up now, and he is half-miserable, half-horrified.

"He used to be a turtle, Susannah. A turtle."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

The smile dies a horrible death.

"Oh. Oh, hell."

[lastgunslinger]

You say true, he almost says -- and then something in him seems to break, and as though in a dream he goes to the chair he sat in when he spoke with Eddie and drops into it, and puts his head in his hands.

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She lets this happen for a moment, before slowly, she wheels over to him, and puts an arm around him, pulling him to her.

She remembers the long, cold road to the Tower, when it was just her and him for an immeasurable amount of time. Remembers the dark below the earth. Remembers hunting with him. She remembers all of it.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland knows none of it.

He does remember, though, the last time that he and Susannah stood so (so to speak) -- when he told them the things they needed to know. Of Susan. Of his mother.

It is said that cold comfort is better than none. This isn't cold. It doesn't fix things. But it's not cold.

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

Of course it doesn't. There's nothing she can do, and she hates it. Hates to see him like this. It's not right. Not in the least.

[lastgunslinger]

Is it not? Some would say he deserves it. They might be right.

Eventually he pulls away. His eyes are red, and his voice is hoarse. "And I must speak to him, for the first time we spoke he left behind a packet with some of his weapons in it, and I had not seen him to give them back yet."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

"You want me to be in the general vicinity for that one?"

She'd know the measure of the man... turtle... that laid claim to the heart of one of the Seven.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland shakes his head. "No need." A pause. "I'll do it."

He doesn't want to.

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She knows.

"Difference between 'need' and 'want.'"

I'd see this muthafucka's face.

[lastgunslinger]

Quietly: "Susannah, he was there the night I came back through the door. Acquitted himself well in battle. A good man."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

"I didn't figure he'd be any less.

[lastgunslinger]

"We are both hers."

Stonefaced.

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

"Say sorry, Roland."

[lastgunslinger]

He looks at her, shoulders slumped forward slightly, dead calm, and says, "So are you."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She smiles.

It is not nice.

"So I am."

[lastgunslinger]

Maybe one day only being hers as Susannah is will be enough.

It is not this day.

And he'd be alone, now. But there's something he must say, first.

"Eddie -- he's safe. But not the others."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She nods.

"I understand."

[lastgunslinger]

"Then it is well."

He rises, and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Long days and pleasant nights, my dear."

[shadowsusannah.livejournal.com]

She squeezes his hand, gently.

"May you have twice the number."

[lastgunslinger]

He lingers a moment longer, and then goes to the door.

It closes softly behind him.