(121-01-30) For Love and Honor
For Love and Honor
Summary: Two knights battle for love and honor (and also a bath).
Date: Thursday (30/01/2014)
Related: none
Players:
Garvin..Griffyth..Daevon..Eonn..Peri..Arros..Rona..Selna..

Grand Hall - Garden Isle Manse


The first floor's main hall is grand, open room dominated by a massive fireplace and high-arched windows facing the street, protected by heavy iron bars. The white walls and polished white marble floors make it seem airy and bright. The starkness of the walls is softened by three long tapestries, depicting fantastical hunting scenes, while the marble floor is cushioned by rich Myrish rugs.

Down the center of the hall is a long, wide dining table, able to seat thirty comfortably. At the head of the table is an enormous chair of elaborately carved rosewood, with a door behind flanked by two high windows, giving a view of the sunlight gardens. Near the fireplace are smaller chairs, cushioned benches, and small tables for more intimate conversations.

Alcoves and doors at either side of the great hall lead to servants quarters, kitchens, and smaller sitting rooms. At the northwest and southeast corners of the building are square towers holding the stairs up to the floor above, where the bedchambers and other sitting rooms are found.


Garvin has no solar, or if he does, he never seems to use it. Instead, he's in the great hall, sitting at the huge table with parchments spread out before him. His harp is on his thigh, and his lips are stained with ink, as he's holding a quill between his teeth while plucking at the strings. He nods at a few notes, grabbing the quill, dipping it in the inkpot, then scratching on a parchment.

There is some minor raiding of Garvin's buttery and the sending of a serving girl to hunt down some of that Highgarden mead. Once he's gnawing on some hard yellow cheese and a loaf of dark brown bread, Griffyth is finding his way back to the hall where Garvin is plucking at strings while Griffyth stuffs his face. He's dressed similarly to the evening before in leather, including the coat over his doublet. "This is what you do when you aren't prancing about in the city?" Griffyth's voice is heavily, heavily muffled by food until he swallows, licks his lips, and eyes the instrument.

Eonn appears in the doors, where he hesitates. The guards let him in, but he's still not sure it's the right moment. He's carrying a long package.

And as chance would have it, Daevon has shown up as well. Dressed in his fancy noble clothes and the only admission to his knighthood being the sword at his hip.

A page comes dashing out of the kitchen, stuffing the last of an oatcake in his mouth and trying to swallow it all before he reaches Eonn and Daevon. Brushing crumbs from his livery, he looks up at the men and politely asks their names, then turns and shouts, "Ser Daevon Targaryen and Eonn of the Rills, if it please m'lord." Garvin looks up first at Griffyth with a grin, giving a shrug, then nods to the page, who gives a grand bow to the guests. "Good evening!" Garvin says, trading his quill for a goblet as he rises, placing his harp on the chair. "Come in, come in. What brings you all tonight?" He eyes Griffyth again. "Besides my food."

"Do I need another reason?" Nope, still eating, but Griffyth has the decency to eat in manageable bites and to chew with his mouth solidly shut. Brushing crumbs from the breast of his dark brown leather coat, Griffyth looks around, finds himself a seat in which to laze and goes about doing so with expediency. "Also your mead, Lord Tyrell. I don't get to have it unless I suffer you, so here I am," Griffyth assures the young man, grinning wolfishly

Eonn looks at Daevon curiously as he comes in. He's silent.

The Tyrell guards sort of remember Peri from the time she visited Garvin at Hightower, and they don't know Arros at all, but they'll let the two in. A page is there to ask their names, then hurry off to announce them. Lord Garvin and his other guests are in the great hall, everyone but Griffyth standing, and Garvin has ink stains around his lips. A harp is in one chair, and parchments spread out in front of that place, but Garvin is walking toward Daevon and Eonn with a smile. "There's plenty of mead, of course. Two more barrels arrived from Highgarden just today." When the page announces the newcomers, Garvin looks toward them. "Ah. Peri, it's good to see you. And you've brought…the Dorne."

"Lord Pansy," Daevon flashes a smile. "Does one need a reason to visit a friend? A good evening to you too, and you Ser Griffyth." As yet another person enters he nods a greeting to Eonn and then says. "Are you having a party?"

Peri is quiet "Oh come now, he saved me today from savages.." she offers to Garvin "He is perfectly lovely, I assure my Lord Pansy!" she bats her long lashes, leathers a creaking from the strain. At least she did her hair today. She even wibbles her lip just perfectly so. "He saved me from the crazy man who carried me through the streets and the violent nut job." she offers, voice soft as she shifts to very defensively wrap her arms around Arros in a friendly and personal way. "If you do not want me here I can take Ser Arros and head to leave." she offers, frowning so precisely.

"You didn't tell me we were going to the Tyrell's manse…" Arros will murmur to Peri, although surely he figured it out when he saw the guards at the door. He stiffens slightly. "Perhaps it is best if I go. You should stay, Peri. I won't ruin your night just because they think I am some sort of barbarian."

Garvin narrows his eyes a bit, regarding Peri. "Crazy man…violent nutjob? You're not referring to your captain, are you?" Because what little Garvin has seen of Riker, that description fits perfectly. He looks to Arros then, straightening his shoulders. "If you rescued Peri and saw to her safety, then you are welcome here, Ser. Come, I shall get us all some wine to celebrate your victory over violent madmen." His words are stiff, but not sarcastic, as he gestures them toward the great all. "Myllie!" he calls toward the kitchen. "A flagon of our finest Arbor red." He pauses, looking toward Griffyth. "And a flagon of mead as well."

Eonn looks at Peri, raising his eyebrows. "Which violent nutjob?" he asks quietly. "There are a lot of them, I thought." He bows to Garvin once the words are out.

"Nonsense, Ser Sand, I merely think you to be an upjumped bastard!" Griffyth's grin grows fiercer still and he finds his feet, dusting his hands off. "Come for another round, Dornish? I seem to recall you kissing the wall upon our last encounter." With a very cliche crack of his knuckles, Griffyth looms as best he can over a man of similar build, of similar height. "Lord Tyrell, save the mead for now, I'd like to be of clear mind for at least a few candlemarks. It's the best I can do for /Ser/ Sand. Miss Peri, you're stunning." He needn't say it; his blue eyes fixate upon the woman's curves with poorly concealed hunger.

"Ser Arros," Daevon flashes a smile. "Such a pleasure to see you again. And you as well Peri." His gaze flicks between them, noting that embrace. Then a glance to Ser Griffyth.

Peri shakes her head in protest to Arros "No, for if you are a barbarian, I am one too, for I am even lower in status than you, Ser Arros." she whispers back protectively to Arros. "Gromm carried me off while I was trying to do some business with an old friend. and No. I told you, Riker is not so terrible." she gives Garvin a look. She sighs a bit "I did not realize it would upset you. Are you sure you do not want me to leave with my friend?" she asks, hesitantly. Arros is given the most apologetic look she can give, genuine and serious. She takes a moment, pressing her hands to Griffyth's shoulders. "Please, no more hostility. I have seen too much blood and violence and came here to relax. If you stop being hostile I will do something kind for you." she offers openly and with a large hint of suggestiveness to her tone, it probably doesn't hurt that she's poured into her jacket.

Arros gives Griffyth a bored look as he tries to loom, and accents it with a sigh and a little roll of his eyes. "You are upsetting Peri. Go be a good little boy and sit down, and I'm sure she'll join you. We will settle our differences later." That said, he turns his back to Griffyth to say to Garvin, "I didn't do much of anything beyond let her sit with me. The bald moron picked up a bench and threw it at another moron who seemed to enjoy it." He shrugs a shoulder, "People are strange here." That said, he walks over to Daevon to clasp him on the back, "Ser Daevon. How are you?"

Garvin heads over to the fireplace and claims one of the chairs, as Myllie the cook and two pretty maids enter with flagons and goblets, hurrying around to offer mead or wine to all the guests. Garvin already has a goblet, which he allows to be refilled. The young page whispers to him, and Lord Pansy blushes, wiping his inky mouth on the page's offered sleeve. "Gromm, what is Gromm?" he asks Peri, then pouts just a little at the attention she showers on Griffyth. He drains half his goblet.

Eonn frowns a little worriedly, takes a goblet, and moves to go sit on the hearth, on the stones rather than on a chair.

"Very well, thank you for asking, and yourself, Ser Arros?" Daevon beams as the tensions seem to be resolving themselves. Or that might be some wishful thinking. "I have decided to find Vaelinor a puppy, although I've still to find anyone with some to sell. I think the responsibility and companionship should be good for her, and if it can be trained to defend her so much the better. She is still very enchanted by Onyx."

Eonn sets the long cloth-wrapped package he was carrying on the heathstone beside him, and looks to Daevon.

"Miss Peri, he's continuing to tarnish my honor," Griffyth tells the woman firmly with a pained expression. There's a peek downward at her bust and he grinds his teeth audibly. "He also struck me while I was intoxicated. At the very least, he'll know where we stand, and he did offer. So…" There's a wistful caress of Peri's hip, something that Griffyth makes no effort to hide, and steps around her. "Ser Sand, either we'll continue our scuffle hereor outside. But as you said, I can name the time and place. The time is now, and the place is hereor more privately if you'd like to save what little face I've left you." Shedding his leather coat, Griffyth strides over to Garvin and extends the coat. "Lord Tyrell, would you mind overly much?"

Garvin lets out a small wimper, glancing toward Eonn, as if the sellsword will tell him how to handle this. He gets to his feet, taking the coat from Griffyth, then says, "My lords, is this really necessary? You're both knights, men of honor." He glances at Arros, struggling to keep his upper lip from curling. "There's no need to fight one another here tonight. Come, drink my wine and be merry. When Lord Pansy pays, everyone drinks!" He takes another sip from his goblet, forcing a smile.

Peri blinks a bit "Big bald and angry. He had a baby the one day but I can't remember who was about for that day." she confesses. "Violent man but not cruel." she pauses "I apologize for bringing tension into your home Lord Tyrell." she bows, due to pants. She stays still and low for a moment. She starts for the door, uncomfortable and slinking. Not in the mood for violence it seems. "Thank you for inviting me Lord Tyrell." she offers, trying her best to sneak out, even going so far as to pull a black cloth out of the pockets on her back to wrap over her hair and wrap around her decolletage - trying to sneak away it seems.

"If you insist, and Lord Garvin does not object." Arros says with another little roll of his eyes. He begins to unbuckle his sword belt, "I swung on you because you implied that my mother is a whore who lets any man who comes knocking into her bed. It is you, Ser Griffyth, who is honorless. At least I have the decency of not calling your mother a harlot." Sword belt unbuckled, he sits it down on a convenient table before offering to Garvin, "You could bet on it, my Lord. Make it a game. Although I would suggest betting on me."

Eonn is sitting on the hearth, but when Garvin looks at him with that expression, he gets to his feet and walks over to the young lord. He's still wearing his battered bastard sword, and now he looks at Griffyth and Arros. "I think," he says quietly, "That Lord Garvin said he did object." His tone is almost regretful.

"No, you simply roll your eyes at me like a woman. Consider this, Ser Sand—this will settle things between us. If you can keep a civil tongue, so can I. By all means, bet. Miss Peri, it is a matter of my honor. If you would like to place a bet, I will cover it myself. Even if you decide to bet upon the Dornishman." Griffyth keeps his belt, but solely because he is presently unarmed but for fists. "Lord Tyrell, I thought you liked this sort of thing?" There's a wry upward twitch of one corner of Griffyth's mouth, and he shakes his head, advancing on Arros with less hostility than may be expected of him.

Daevon sighs and reaches for some wine. "Gentlemen, you are distressing Peri, and upsetting your host. Is that the way that honorable men behave? Do they flout the rules of hospitality in order to start fights in another's home? You're both guests here. Can you not just put aside your differences for one night?"

Amidst the bustle of the serving men and women, a giggling maid is ejected from the kitchen, actively scolded into the great hall by a potboy with a grease-stained towel. Undaunted, color high, Selna clutches two sticky buns that have yet to make an appearance on the tables. She lurks at the edge of the room, sticking to the flight-path of the servants where she's less likely to draw notice, and begins eating her ill-got sweets.

Garvin casts a grateful look toward Eonn, biting at his lower lip. "I…cannot forbid you men from fighting, but I will insist that you do so without weapons. This is a peaceful house, and I'll not have either of you shedding blood on my lovely Myrish rugs. So be it. Fight one another for your honor, and when the battle is through, honor shall be satisfied. Win or lose, that will be the end of the animosity between you." He looks first at Griffyth, wetting his lips, then at Arros as well. There are worse things than watchng two handsome men beating one another with their fists. "Do you both agree to these terms?"

Rona doesn't wait for a servant to announce her. The brash bravo strides into the great hall, lifting her arms with a bright smile…which suddenly fades at the scene unfolding. "Gentlemen, what is going on here? My dear Lord Pansy, are you in need of assistance? Shall I eject these ruffians? No? Very well. Where is wine? I must drink to watch this." She gives Garvin a wink, striding around the rivals to join him.

The guards at the door stop Peri, asking her if she has Lord Garvin's leave to depart, and as they're cornering her (and leering at her outfit), that's when the Bravo is able to stride boldly past them and enter.

"They are agreeable." Arros says with a curt nod to Garvin. He'll pause a moment when Rona comes in, and gaze at the woman for a few heartbeats. "A moment." He tells Griffyth with a raised hand, and turns to follow Rona as she walks around them. "You are the most beautiful woman in the city…" He says as he follows, and adds quickly, "I don't know you, and it is certainly impetuous of me to ask, but may I have your favor?"

Peri blinks "I have to ask to leave? I'm not comfortable, I wish to go, please let me out." she requests, adjusting her jacket, sort of looking uncomfortable at being leered at.

Selna pauses briefly in her cake-eating as she catches on to the tension in the room, taking a step back into the shadows and towards the wall. She gulps at the mention of blood on the Myrish rugs — spoiled luxury, Seven have mercy! However, she continues to watch in suspense, chewing industriously.

"He also questioned the worth of my blood. And now I look a monster for recalling such when it was stated so brazenly in front of Lord Daevon and Lord Tyrell both. One moment." While Ser Sand breaks off, Griffyth closes the distance in quick, purposeful steps between he and Peri. "Miss Peri, you needn't go, but if you feel you must…" There's a glance over his shoulder towards Garvin, and then towards the men at the door. "You'll not heed the lady's wishes? This is no prison, let her pass if she desires to go."

Daevon's gaze goes to Rona as she enters, and to her sword. There's a flash of a smile, a dip of his head in acknowledgement of her. He's intrigued, about to approach, but Arros is far quicker than he is and so he just stays where he's standing.

Garvin lets out another tiny wimper, but straightens his shoulders. He's Lord Tyrell's son, not some simpering pigherd, and he needs to act the part. "Very well. If everyone will kindly step toward the table, we'll all stand witness to this contest. Ser Sand and Ser Wylde, please try to restrict your battle to the large area at the table's foot, so none of the other guests are…." His words drift off when he catches sight of Rona, one brow raising. Then Arros is approaching her, and Griffyth is going over to the doors, where Peri is being detained, and Garvin frowns. "What's happened now?" he asks, following Griffyth. The guards are flustered, stepping back from Peri with mumbled apologies.

Eonn looks to Garvin. "You need not indulge this stupidity, My Lord," he says quietly. "If you prefer they leave.." He smiles a small and humourless smile.
Peri pages: Legally Garvin could keep her without releasing her on a whim because she's not even a peasant.

Peri watches Griffyth "I.. Lord Pansy may I go to your kitchens and have a few moments to clear my head?" she asks, voice softer, leaning to him "You may come Ser Wylde if you wish to talk." she asks, voice softer yet. She cracks her shoulders a little bit.

Rona pauses on her way to Garvin, turning to Arros with a measure of surprise in her lifted eyebrow. "My favor?" She chuckles, patting her hip next to the narrow blade hanging there. "I am not a helpless lady in need of a champion. But," she smirks, blinking slowly and deliberately at Arros, "since you are so charming." She looks down to the blade, where a number of colored ribbons are wrapped around the neck of her scabbard. Untying a bold purple one, she moves to tie it loosely around Arros's wrist. "I took this from the tunic of a handsome bravo named Endio Ina. It was hard won."

Selna catches a serving woman by the elbow, and whispers something to her, gesturing towards the milling about and posturing going on among the armed and noble. Selna's interlocutor clearly has better things to do, and she hurries off rather quickly, leaving Selna to finish her cake and keep a watchful eye on situation.

"Very well, miss Peri." Griffyth studies the voluptuous, common-born woman with an arched brow. Pulling stiff leather gloves from his swordless sword belt, Griffyth pulls them over the backs of his hands and wrists. "Lead away, miss. A few minutes only. I wouldn't want Ser Sand to pine in my absence," Griffyth jests mildly, gesturing towards the entryway of the kitchen. Should Peri move towards it, Griffyth follows dutifully in her wake.

Garvin questions the guard, who stammers something about Peri not dressing like a lady or one of the servants, and maybe she might be a thief taking advantage of all the comings and goings tonight, possible. Garvin frowns, offering a quick word of praise for the man's vigilence, but then chastising him for insulting one of his guests. The guard bows and apologizes and generally looks like he wants to crawl into a hole, while Garvin turns to Peri. "If you wish, of course. The kitchen is just over there, take all the time you need. Help yourself to any of the food, I know Myllie's preparing us all some sweets to go with our mead." He gives Griffyth a grateful nod then, smiling. "I suppose you'll be asking to wear her favor in your battle?"

Peri slips into the kitchen, taking Griffyth's hand to do so. Likely headed to do something nice for her host. She takes things out of her pouches on her back, expression calm and growing cheerful. "Thank you." she calls to Garvin. "I'll show you a trick." she offers to Griffyth.

Ser Sand is not pining at all. Instead, he is gazing down at Rona with a mesmerized sort of look, "The most dangerous people I know are women, lady bravo." Arros says to Rona, "It is the beauty of your face and the vitality and fierceness behind your eyes that draws me in. Not weakness or helplessness. If the Maiden were a warrior she would look just as you do." When she ties the ribbon around his wrist he smiles widely, and lifts his wrist to kiss it before kneeling down to take Rona's hand, and if she lets him plant a kiss on the knuckles.

Daevon sips his wine, watching the room.

Selna grabs the next server to pass her by, murmuring something and furtively pointing to Ser Sand on one knee in front of the lady bravo, a gesture which has clearly caught her romantic imagination. One could well imagine that Selna will be attempting to reenact the scene with one of her sweethearts before the week is out. At this point, she's finished her cake and is looking for a reason to stay in the room. And, of course, this is when she is drafted as a server, unceremoniously handed a heavy flagon of wine and pointed in the direction of the tables.

Far be it from Rona to turn down the attention of a handsome man. She permits the kiss, watching Ser Arros with amusement in her dark eyes. "Fight well, stranger. Fight with the fierceness of the Maiden." She glances briefly to the sword at her hip, chuckling at her own private joke.

Eonn looks altogether morose about all this pomp and romance. He stays standing more or less beside Garvin, though.

Serving boys emerge from the kitchen now, carrying platters heavy with cakes and honey-candied flowers and all manner of sweet nothings. The boys are actually kitchen workers, bakers apprentices and pot scrubbers, all yawning at being awakened and pressed into service, but doing their best to look presentable. Maids bring fresh flagons of mead and Arbor red, making sure no goblet is ever half-empty.

Garvin stands at the end of the table near Eonn, sipping his wine in silence, his whole body showing the tension he feels about the upcoming battle.

Eonn gives Garvin an odd, sad sort of look, shakes his head slightly, and looks away. His gaze finds Daevon. He offers the Targaryen knight a little bow.

Arros spins around rather dramatically to unfasten his sandsilk robe and put it down on the table with his sword. Bare from the waist up save for Rona's ribbon, and wearing just his loose black pants tucked into his tall boots he turns around to face…no one. "…Where is Wylde?" When one of the servants mutely points to the kitchen he raises a brow. "Oh." Clearing his throat, he snags two goblets of wine off of the table, and walks back to Rona. "It seems my competitor needed to go to the kitchens?" He shrugs his bare shoulder before offering the glass to her, "Ser Arros Sand."

Daevon offers Eonn a slight smile in return. He's distracted somewhat by the other goings on. He steals a look over at Rona and Arros before quickly looking away. "Well seems there will be no need for other entertainment tonight," he comments to Eonn.

"I am not sure it's entertainment for everybody, my Lord," Eonn replies. "It is not what I was, mm, hoping to see tonight." Still a bit sad, that. Then: "How fare you in Oldtown, Ser?"

Rona's slender eyebrow arches at the Dornish knight's baring of skin without even a glimmer of embarrassment. She gives him a wry smirk when she accepts the goblet. "Ser Arros Sand? A knight? How interesting. I am Rona Vielo, daughter of Furio Vielo, of Braavos." She lifts her goblet to clink with his before drinking. Remembering Westerosi customs, she casts her gaze about for bread and salt. With violence ready to occur, it just seems prudent.

Selna starts making the rounds with wine. She walks among the tables, and where she sees a cup with more than an inch between its lip and its wine, she pours. She sidles up to Daevon and Eonn, discreetly checking their goblets.

"Nor I," Daevon admits, his words quiet. "Still, make what you can of a situation, and hopefully this will finally be the end of it. What were you hoping for then?" He smiles gently. "Oldtown seems pleasant enough, indeed. Although the dragon was quite unexpected." He's drinking mead, he offers Selna a smile as she approaches. "No thankyou."

"A little bit of peace," says Eonn, dryly. He has a swallow of wine. "You can hope, but usually this sort of thing fans rivalries, does not settle them. I imagine you know it." A pause, then a nod. "Did you know the dragon? It seems like… one so large must be old, no? And have a better name than 'Whoremaster'?" He doesn't seem sure.

Selna's eyes are all for Rona and Ser Sand, so her response to Daevon's kindly refusal is somewhat absent. She bobs her head in a general, servantly way, refreshes Eonn's cup if he allows it, and moves on.

"Not as interesting as you." Arros says with another smile. His indigo eyes remain on Rona's face instead of roaming lecherously. When she clinks her goblet against his he takes a healthy swallow, "If I am not being too forward, Mistress Rona, what brings you to Oldtown? Not that I am complaining that you are here. By the Seven, I think I could die a happy man seeing a woman as beautiful as you. It's just…well, northerners are stuffy."

Daevon shakes his head. "I did not know it, nor have I found any who does. It does seem strange that it chose but one person to carry off in that manner." He follows Selna's gaze back over to Arros and Rona. "Stuffy." He shakes his head with amusement. "We cannot all be blessed with your charm, Ser Sand, but we do at least try our best. I would think Lord Pansy at least could hardly be called such." He then nods at Eonn. "It is unfortunate about such rivalries, but I hope for the best."

"Will you hunt for it, Ser?" asks Eonn. "There is. Rumour that you intend to."

Rona holds her goblet lazily, looking as if it might drop from her loose grip at any time. "Northerners? Ah…of course. Sand. You are from Dorne, yes? They would all be northerners to you. But our Targaryen friend is correct. It does not do to call them all stuffy. I could say the same of all Westerosi, but it would not be true, clearly." She shrugs, sipping her wine.

"Fair enough." Arros says to Rona with another smile. He says to Daevon, "Ser Daevon, you have been to Dorne. You know we are certainly not stuffy!" He looks back to Rona, "Have you met set Daevon? Courteous and beyond reproach. He would never lower himself to fight the likes of Wylde. Speaking of Wylde…has he chickened out and escaped out the back?" He eyes the door to the kitchen, and has another swallow of his wine.

Garvin glances between Daevon and Eonn, still looking anxious. "This is what men do," he says, taking a quick sip of wine. "What men love to do. And I'd rather they do it here, without weapons, than in the street with bared steel, where one of them might be killed and the other arrested for breaking Lord Ormund's command." He holds his goblet out to Selna, barely looking at her, as he glances toward the kitchen. "What could they be doing in there? Is she baking Ser Griffyth a pastry sword?" He pretends he doesn't hear the Dornishman's taunting, gulping yet more wine.

"If the dragon had carried away a maiden whom there was hope of returning alive, perhaps I would have," Daevon says. "It is foolish to go blindly charging after an unknown dragon though, that is just a quick way to end up eaten. I am hunting for information at the moment. Certainly, if it harms any others I will do what I can to stop it, but certainly not alone. I would rather have some hope of success." He flashes a smile at Arros. "No, certainly not stuffy, not in any way. Wild and wonderful, in so many ways." He dips a bow to Rona. "It is a pleasure to meet you. You are one of the bravos?" There's a bright spark of hope in his eyes. He shakes his head at Garvin. "Not all men."

Selna nearly trips over a dog lying half underneath one of the tables on her rounds — because she's staring at the Dornish knight's bare chest, of course. Momentarily horrified by how close she came to spilling Arbor Red on the Myrish rug, she continues her rounds, her expression contrite as she refills Garvin's cup.

Eonn nods in assent to what Daevon says, and falls silent again.

Speak the devil's name, and he shall appear. A minute or two after the Dornishman's mocking, Griffyth reappears with Peri in tow upon his arm, though the woman's hands are busied with a platter rather than anything to directly do with the knight himself. At whatever she says to him before they wander into sight, Griffyth barks a quick laugh and flashes her a shameless grin, ducking his head to murmur something to her ears alone with a musing shake of his head. "Thank you, miss Peri, for the company. There is none finer here," the knight assures her as he gently disengages his arm. "Ser Sand, did you miss me?"

"I have not had the opportunity," Rona says in her accented tongue. "Ser Daevon, it is my pleasure as well." She returns a bow, hers accompanied by an extravagant flourish of her arm. But at last Griffyth returns, and she gives Arros a smirk, patting his bare shoulder. "Fight well, Ser Arros. I will be watching."

"Then I pray I do not make a fool of myself." Arros says softly to Rona before he goes to the designated area Garvin has pointed out for the fight. "Not particularly." He says to Griffyth, "Shall we on with this, then?"

Peri laughs at Griffyth, her fingers holding a platter of Tuna tartare, fish roes - two varieties of orange and dark brown, bread, and candied violets decorating the platter. "Do not fight dirty, that is my habbit not yours." she moves towards Eonn, holding the platter to him and Garvin politely. Lyseni style appetizers. Light and delicious and good for drinking around wine. "Try some, I prepared it." she offers, chipperly, eying Rona "Would you care for a nibble?"

Daevon smiles at Rona, but he too falls into silence, as he looks towards the men who are about to fight.

Garvin has been drinking heavily, which really isn't unusual for him, as most here already know. He's half sitting on the edge of the table, and though his gaze flicks nervously all around the room, they keep being drawn back to Arros and his bare chest. He scowls at himself, drinking again. It isn't fair that barbarians can be so damned good looking. He nods to Rona again, then stands up straighter when Peri and Griffyth return. Already tense muscles tighten further still as the fight grows nearer. "I'm no stranger to the rush of blood that comes from a good battle," he murmurs to Eonn or Daevon or whoever is listening. "But this is no friendly contest. They hate one another, and in the fire of combat, one might lose himself and end up killing the other. He nods to Peri, but waves away the platter. "Perhaps after," he says. "They look scrumptious, but I have no appetite just now."

"I know," Eonn murmurs back to Garvin. "I think you ought to have sent them away." He sighs a bit, then moves to sit on the hearth again, next to the package he brought in, which is something long wrapped in cloth, perhaps a very short sword, or a very long spirtle.

Rona reaches to Peri's tray, flashing the woman a warm smile. "Just so, thank you." She is sure to sample a bit of everything Peri has prepared. Her eyes settle on the two fighting men, her expression conveying what is also going more subtly through Garvin's mind. Two good looking men grappling and pummeling one another? This evening is shaping up to be so much better than she'd expected.

"Lord Tyrell, calm yourself. I do not hate Ser Sand, I simply want repayment for the slight against my House. I certainly wouldn't care to break bones or blind him, much less kill him. Gods, I am a knight as is he, give some small credit," Griffyth retorts with a wry, bone-dry voice. Finding the Dornish knight bare to the waist, Griffyth's brows raise and he peers intently at the man, scrutinizng him. "I see. Very well." In short order, Griffyth makes quick work of the laces of his doublet, discards the leather with care and tugs the much looser linen tunic beneath over his head. The bruise from Arros's fist from days before is still a rich purple beneath Griffyth's ribs, growing yellow at the edges.

Selna's flagon is light, and she casts a final glance at the knights as she makes her way back to the kitchens. She doesn't emerge again — likely she's gone retailing what she's seen among the lady's maids upstairs, that or she's being scolded roundly by one of the cooks.

Peri grins at Rona "I am a good cook, especially in little things that are tasty. The small are from those flying fish in the sound, the large orange from salmon, delicious, my favorite. The brown is from strange lake fishes up north of here, far away. I discovered it in the ice tribes lands, and I found that it is common near the iron isles." she offers, voice warm to Rona. The Tartare is spicy and a little sweet. She eyes Selna and then Garvin "That one has talents, lord." she offers with a grin "Such big eyes."

"I would like to think it were not hatred," Daevon says. "Hatred is a terrible thing and something that should not be dwelled upon. They are both good men, for them to be rivals I can understand, but for it to be hatred. I hope that they can resolve their differences and build a friendship upon it. It is far better to have friends than enemies. I hope that once they fight that will be it." He does smile as Griffyth confirms that there's no hatred.

Garvin drains his goblet again, then takes a step toward the two knights. "Very well, my lords. You've both agreed to make this combat non-lethal, and to use no weapons, save those your own body provides. This will settle the matter of both your honors, and afterward, you will embrace as friends and fellow knights. Agreed?"

"You came at me rudely." Arros says with a little shrug to Griffyth, "And when I gave what you'd given you insulted my mother. Do not act as if you are innocent in this." He points at Griffyth's side before giving the Stormlander a toothy grin. "Did I do that?" That said, he turns his head to give Garvin a nod, "Agreed. I'll even let him have the first swing." Holding his arms out wide in a sort of 'come at me, bro' manner, he waits for Griffyth.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Griffyth=Brawl Vs Arros=Brawl
< Griffyth: Good Success Arros: Success
< Net Result: Griffyth wins - Marginal Victory

"That is not entirely how I recall the incident, but I won't feign perfect memory seeing as I was almost too drunk to stand at the time." There's a one shoulder shrug at that, and Griffyth flexes his fingers within the confines of the leather gloves he still wears; there's no sign of alterations to them, no metal, no padding, just well tailored leather worn supple by use and scuffed along his knuckles. "For what it's worth, I'm sure she's a fine and beautiful woman, and perhaps I'll have the honor and pleasure of making her acquaintance some day." He needn't finish; that grin is indicative enough. When Arros spreads his arms, Griffyth takes advantage of the moment and lunges forward with more raw power than finesse, but damnably quick. Given that Arros has left him the large target of his midsection so freely that is where Griffyth swings his curled fingers with every intention of knocking the wind from Arros's lungs.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Arros=Brawl Vs Griffyth=brawl
< Arros: Good Success Griffyth: Good Success
< Net Result: DRAW

Garvin nods to Ser Arros, then he steps back to the table once more, leaving the two men to battle it out on the large, plush Myrish rug between the table's foot and the wall. It's a good-sized area, where during feats, the musicians are like to play, juggles perform, and fools jest. More than enough room for two men to wrestle around shirtless. His goblet is refilled, and he's just sipping when Griffyth charges in for the first blow. "Seven hells," he murmurs to Daevon or Rona, clearly impressed.

Eonn shrugs a bit, gets his wine goblet refilled, and watches the spectacle.

Peri leans, pressing a kiss to Garvin's cheek "Lord Tyrell." she tilts, leaning to whisper to her host, offering Daevon some of the appetizers she has prepared to him "Ser? Would you care to try it?" she asks, voice polite and warm.

Arros's indigo eyes darken at the words spoken in regards to his mother, but he has no time to overthink the insult as Griffyth's fist pounds into his midsection. He lets out a sharp exhale at the impact, and swings blindly at Griffyth before taking a step back to give himself some breathing room.

Eonn glances at Garvin, and blinks, then smiles at the young lord, briefly and amusedly.

Daevon gazes down at the appetizers. "Thank you most kindly." He says, taking just one morsel to try. "Delicious." He comments, his eyes drifting back to the fight.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Griffyth=Brawl Vs Arros=Brawl
< Griffyth: Success Arros: Good Success
< Net Result: Arros wins - Marginal Victory

Rona winces as her would-be champion takes the first blow, but she is all smiles, enjoying the show. She murmurs back to Garvin, "Do not get too excited, my lord. I think it is just getting started."

Garvin blushes at Peri's kiss, giving a sheepish grin, as he leans in to hear her whisper. He nods then, not taking his eyes off the two combatants. "Of course, my dear. In fact, I would insist upon it, if I weren't afraid of raising the wrath of your captain." He gulps more wine, then allows the goblet to be refilled.

The grazing clip of Griffyth's knuckles against Arros's abdomen gives the man some small sense of confidence—perhaps too much so, as he's prone to precisely that. The wild swing doesn't fly so wide as Griffyth would like and forces the man to deflect the blow as best he can against his forearm, knocking it aside, but the jab is hardly gentle and leaves a small throb behind upon the 'shield' that is his arm. As the blow is ducked aside, Griffyth presses Arros's personal space more energetically, and instead of dropping the defending arm, Griffyth thrusts his elbow at the man's chin.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Arros=Brawl Vs Griffyth=brawl
< Arros: Good Success Griffyth: Good Success
< Net Result: Griffyth wins - Marginal Victory

Arros deftly leans to one side to avoid a elbow to the chin, and regains his footing after the blow to his midsection. He ducks down to pass under Griffyth's raised arms, and aims a jab at the spot just above his belly button.

Peri waves a hand "I did something most indecent but claimed a valid errand." she admits, taking wine to fill a glass for herself, working on the appetizer and sips the wine, seemingly content to sit down and rest her legs for now.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Griffyth=Brawl Vs Arros=Brawl
< Griffyth: Failure Arros: Good Success
< Net Result: Arros wins - Solid Victory
<OOC> Griffyth says, "Bwaha."

Garvin's eyes are flashing now, the tension slowly melting into something more…hungry. It's not bloodlust, or even lust-lust, but some combination of the two, with a healthy dose of too-much-wine. Fortunately, the battle is distracting him even from his drinking, and as each man lands a blow, his nostrils flare a little. "Hmm?" he says absently to Peri. "What indecent errand?"

Eonn gets to his feet, moving slowly. He picks up the package and downs the remains of his wine.
You paged Peri with 'At this rate, the alcohol and hormones in his blood are gonna make him putty in Peri and Griffyth's hands. And if Arros and/or Eonn happen to also be in the bed, I don't think he'd protest a bit. Though I suspect Arros only has eyes for Rona tonight.'

There's a rock on his heels, and Griffyth backpedals with quick surety of his feet and Arros's fist does little than brush the toned lines of Griffyth's abdomens without raising even a sting. The quick backward jerk leaves him off balance however, and when Griffyth returns the favor with an upward jab of his fist, his guard falters and he's left vulnerable and wide open even as his strike falls far short of Arros' completely.

Rona finds Peri's talk of indecency distracting as well. She keeps her eyes on the fight, but tilts her ear to listen in on the salt wife's response.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Arros=brawl Vs Griffyth=brawl
< Arros: Good Success Griffyth: Good Success
< Net Result: DRAW

Peri eyes Garvin "Tansy Tea. I told him I needed to get ingredients for Tansy tea and a wood witch to help me prepare it properly." she offers. She is at least honest. "I also told him I'd be slumbering at a woman friend's home if I got too tired or had too much to drink. I left him with three whores, two of which were paid to cook his breakfast in the morning and the third to attend to his needs. I am nothing if not a thoughtful little salt wife." she admits, grinning.

Arros sways backwards with ease to avoid the upward jab, and swings his fist at Griffyth's cheek and jaw. He brings his knee up as his arm swings to knee the other knight in the side.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Griffyth=Brawl Vs Arros=Brawl
< Griffyth: Good Success Arros: Great Success
< Net Result: Arros wins - Marginal Victory

Garvin doesn't appear to be really listening to Peri, as he continues watching the men grapple and punch, until he asks, "And whose needs will you be tending tonight instead?" He glances around the room, catching sight of Eonn with his bundle. He nods the man closer, then turns back to the fight once more.

Eonn steps over to Garvin and leans in to speak, very quietly, as if the fight is some sort of performance that requires the audience to stay hushed. "I must go," he says.

Peri blinks "No one's to my knowledge. I don't really think my advances would be very welcome, do you? Nor do I think Riker would much approve." she asks, in response to the wildly perverse question. "Have a wonderful night Eonn, be well." she blows a simple kiss absently, settling to sit beside Rona's feet.

That punch rattles Griffyth something fierce and splits his lip soundly. While he's spitting blood and trying to lose the ringing in his ears, he awkwardly avoids the knee intended for him by twisting aside. Arros's grab misses its grip upon Griffyth as he snakes away and wrenches around to drive his brow into the Dornish knight's. His ears already ring, what more could a little dizziness hurt?

Garvin leans back against the table, the goblet still forgotten in his hand, as he turns his head toward Eonn with a pouty sort of frown. "Must you really? They're not trying to kill one another after all, and they'll soon wear each other out. Then there will be drinking and grabbing at maids, and the two of them will swear undying friendship. I've seen it happen with men my brother despised at first." He looks at the fighters again, and his eyes suddenly light, as he leans toward Eonn to whisper in his ear.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Arros=brawl Vs Griffyth=brawl
< Arros: Good Success Griffyth: Good Success
< Net Result: Arros wins - Marginal Victory

Eonn chuckles at Garvin's comment, and his whisper. He nods. "I know," he says. "And you're right. They just might. But I must go. I will perhaps talk to you another night."

Rona nods her head respectfully to Eonn, "Valar morghulis. Be well, my benefactor." She settles herself beside Garvin, her goblet dangling lazily between two fingers. "They seem fairly evenly matched. It is a good show after all, my lord."

Arros advances on Griffyth as the man twists aside to avoid his knee. There is a shuffling noise as he and Griffyth's boots skid and scuff at the Myrish rug under their feet during their brawl. When Griffyth tries head butting him Arros leans back so Griffyth's forehead doesn't connect with his; there is perhaps an inch between the Stormlander's and the Dornishman's. Then he snaps forward suddenly to return the headbutt.

Garvin nods to Eonn then, finally remembering his goblet to take a small sip. "Farewell then, Eonn, and safe journey home. Call on me again tomorrow, if you like. I shall be here most of the day, working on my harp." He nods to Rona then, tongue playing over his lips. "They dance very well together. More blood than I'd like to see, but I haven't heard any bones break…yet."

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Griffyth=Brawl Vs Arros=Brawl
< Griffyth: Good Success Arros: Great Success
< Net Result: Arros wins - Solid Victory

Peri seems content between Rona and Garvin's feet, one of her strange habbits, her fingers taking the appetizer tray to pluck at lightly, her eyes on the fight, her toes curling under her firm rump.

Eonn smiles at Rona and replies, seemingly automatically, "Valar doehaeris," and a phrase in Braavosi — «Lovely blade.» Then he nods again to Garvin, "Thank you, My Lord." That said, he heads out, silent on his soft-soled boots and keeping clear of the little battle.

Griffyth jerks backward, but not quickly enough and there's a dull, painful thud as their brows meetalmost a crack. The force is lessened, but it's still headache inducing. For the moment, Griffyth's focus remains upon the fight, upon the man within reach. There's no anger, just focus and purposeand maybe a certain wince for the ache in his jaw. His breath is a little shallow, the only sounds he offers grunts, and perspiration gleams upon Wylde's skin. Griffyth steps directly into Arros's space and ducks his shoulder to drive it solidly towards the man's chest.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Arros=brawl Vs Griffyth=brawl
< Arros: Good Success Griffyth: Failure
< Net Result: Arros wins - Solid Victory

Arros spins around to evade the shoulder drive towards his chest. When he turns around he is actually right behind Griffyth, and kicks out his foot to give the other knight a stern kick to the backside.

Garvin's nostrils flare again, as he inhales deeply the musky scent of the two sweaty men, flushing lightly. "I don't think Ser Griffyth will be on his feet much longer," he says to Rona. "I suppose the proper thing for me to do as host would be to have a pair of hot baths prepared for them, and maybe send to the Citadel for a maester to tend their wounds." He leans away from the table and stops a passing serving boy, sending instructions to the kitchen to have enough water boiled for two baths upstairs.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Griffyth=Brawl Vs Arros=Brawl
< Griffyth: Good Success Arros: Good Success
< Net Result: DRAW

Rona's lips part as the contest heats up, Arros seeming to be taking the advantage. Perhaps her favor was well placed! "Hm?" She doesn't actually look at Garvin when she addresses him. "Oh, I am sure no maester will be needed," she says quietly. "They might even take it as a blow to their manhood to suggest it."

It's not the most dignified sound that escapes Griffyth as he's sent staggering and nearly tumbling to the carpet from the swift kick to his rear. Twisting sharply and finding his feet still under him, yet not so steady, Griffyth sucks in a painful breath. The knight shakes his head as if to clear it (which fails miserably), and in one last, desperate effort charges headlong at Arros. There's no rain of blows, no kicks, no punches, just a simple bullish run at the man to knock him to the floor under Griffyth's weight.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Arros=brawl Vs Griffyth=brawl
< Arros: Failure Griffyth: Success
< Net Result: Griffyth wins - Marginal Victory

Garvin nods to Rona then, taking another small sip of wine. At the back of the room, maids and boys begin passing from the kitchen door to the tower on the opposite side, then up the stairs. Garvin sucks in a breath at Griffyth's desperate, last-ditch charge, eyes flashing once more. "Have you ever seen anything so magnificent?" he murmurs to Rona, leaning back against the table's edge again.

Peri eyes Garvin. "I will tend them both if you allow me." she offers with a a small grin. "Wounds don't matter if they are from fists generally and the goal isn't to murder." she offers, She loosens a button to get comfortable "Mm. You shouldn't be so shy Garvin." she offers, grinning.

Rona stares at the men with some of the same awe that Garvin does, though there is more brazen hunger in her eyes. "Well…yes, I have," she says matter-of-factly. "But it is quite a spectacle of masculinity."

Arros lets out a low chuckle after he delivers a swift kick to Griffyth's ass, and the man staggers forward. His posture loosens, and he wipes a hand across his sweaty brow. It looks as if the Dornishman considers himself the winner. Perhaps his hubris will cost him, for he doesn't expect Griffyth to turn around and rush him. He lets out a startled sound as Wylde plows into him, and his arms raise by instinct to cover and protect his face once he hits the ground, certain that the other knight will begin delivering blows to the face.

The tackle takes the wind out of Griffyth even as they're both sent crashing to the Myrish carpet. With a low groan, Griffyth takes no advantage of the prone knight beneath him, but instead rolls over to land with a limp thud next to Arros to peer blearily at the ceiling. "I have no regrets on my observation, Lord Ser Targaryan," Griffyth observes aloud, but thickly, his voice a touch hoarse from hard breathing. "Ser Sand hits like a mule kicks." By all accounts, Griffyth is content to lay there, breathing and dampening the carpet beneath him.

Garvin glances down to Peri with a puzzled look, but quickly looks to the men, now both down on the thick rug. He licks his lips again, inhaling deeply. "Are you two men content to end this now?" he asks. "If so, hot baths and cool wine await. If not…." He can't think of what to offer the two men, should they decide to start throwing fists again.

Rona grimaces as Arros goes down under the last ditch rush from Griffyth. "Oooh, dear. Do not hurt his face!" Rona calls out, sighing. "It is such a pretty face. Really, that should have been a rule from the beginning, with these two." She settles a bit as the fighting seems to have come to an end…maybe.

Peri shifts, moving to stand up, waiting to tend he two, taking a white cloth and dipping it in mead. She looks prepared to play momma for the fighting men in this round.
You paged Peri with 'I just thought, since you're sitting at Garvin's feet and looking up at him sometimes, you might notice that his codpiece seems to be bulging away from his body a bit.'

"I'm finished if Ser Griffyth is." Arros replies from the floor. When Rona says that his face is pretty he lets out another laugh, and covers his sweaty brow with his hands. After a moment he stands up, and turns around to offer Griffyth a hand up. His only injury is a bruise on his midsection. Elsewise, he is unharmed.

"M'finished," Griffyth mumbles, reaching for the hand offered to him. He misses at first before gripping Arros's forearm and using the man as leverage to draw himself unsteadily back to his feet. "And we both live, Ser Sand." Planting his feet to keep on them, Griffyth manages a half bow while wiping blood from his mouth onto the back of his forearm. There's already a reddening upon his chin and jaw which will no doubt be a livid bruise by morning along with his split lip.

Garvin lets out a breath then, his shoulders relaxing. "Good, that's done then. Embrace as friends, and Peri will tend your wounds. If either of you would like a bath, I can show you upstairs." He glances at the two women, then adds without thinking, "I can show everyone upstairs, and there will be fresh wine for all."

Rona arches an eyebrow at the invitation to attend the bathing. "My Lord Tyrell, I think I have had enough surprises for one evening." She chuckles, finishing off her wine. "After this entertainment, I am exhausted. I should go."

Peri stands straight and grabs Griffyth, daubbing his split lip with the mead soaked napkin, "shh shh." She seems content "Oh a bath? With oils?" she asks to Garvin, curiously "Would you like a massage Ser Griffyth?" she asks, she eyes Rona and leans towards the Woman, rather sneakily stealing a few flowers from the table in a smoothe motion and tucking them in Rona's hair.

Arros hoists Griffyth off of the floor, and comes forward to embrace as instructed. He gives the man a few hard claps on the back. "Arros. It's Ser /Arros/. I am not just a bastard, you know." That said, he turns to take a step towards Rona, and rather impulsively he reaches down to put his hands on her hips, "Don't go."

Thinking of nothing witty to reply with, Griffyth returns the embrace with an unnecessarily hard squeeze—partly to keep his feet because he still feels rather wobbly. Clapping Arros on his naked, sweaty shoulder a few times, Griffyth settles for being seen to by Peri's more tender hands. "I would degrade myself in nearly any way imaginable for one, miss Peri," Griffyth mumbles, mostly numb to the sting of the mead against the still bleeding cut in his lip. "Could use a bath."

Garvin's brows draw together. "There's no need to leave, Lady Bravo. Peri will be staying the night in one of the rooms, and you are certainly welcome to do the same. The hour is late, and we've all had a tiring evening. Sers, that invitation is extended to you both as well. There are more than enough rooms upstairs for everyone."

Rona smirks and tilts her head to receive the flowers in her hair. Because why not? But at Arros's boldness, her smile suddenly fades, and a knee comes up reflexively before she steps back and turns her side to him. Her right hand rests against her belly. Her tone is cautious when she speaks, "Thank you, Lord Tyrell. But the night is a bravo's time. I will be fine."

Peri grins "Have a wonderful night friend." she offers, watching Arros "Do you need a massage as well?" she asks, socially, friendly even. "He's called for two bathes, so I assume I'll get to indulge in an entire tub to myself." she sighs out in wonderment. She seems to pay attention to Griffyth's face, cleaning it again rather thoughtfully.

For the first time tonight, Ser Arros is truly pained. Rona's knee comes in contact with the delicate bits contained between his legs. He backs away from her, and leans forward with a grimace. The man sucks in a breath, and his head dips downwards slightly. "I'm sorry." He says, "Overlyexcited…" He sucks in a breath. "And all." Another breath is sucked in, followed by an exhale, "Forgive me…"

Vivid blue eyes are still lightly glazed with pain and disorientation, but he directs a frown in Rona's direction. "Miss, there's no need to make such uncalled for attacks upon Ser S—Arros's person. At least not in such an honorless area." His words are a little muffled by Peri's nursing, which earns a blood-stained smile from Griffyth. "I think Ser Arros will require a massage. Or at least a stretcher."

The steward, who has remained so in the background as to go unnoticed all night, suddenly begins barking orders at the maids to prepare rooms. Garvin winces when Arros is so firmly chastised, but wisely does not draw attention to it. Instead, he bows to Rona and offers her a smile. "I do hope you will call here again. Your company is always welcome. Farewell, Lady Bravo, and safe journey home." He's smart enough not to offer any of his guards to escort her, knowing it would be an insult to one who is more than capable of handling herself on the streets of Oldtown after dark. While the other maids are rushing upstairs, one remains to offer goblets of wine to Griffyth and Arros.

Rona purses her lip in irritation. But a sigh gives way to a light smirk, and she nods. "Forgiven. But never again presume that you may touch Rona Vielo without her permission." Griffyth earns a frown, however. "Uncalled for? Had you laid hands upon me so, you would have received the same. Do not dare to accuse me of dishonor when I am defending my own, Ser." But she immediately brightens when she turns to Garvin, and gives him a bow. "It was most entertaining, my lord. We must see each other again soon."

"No touching. Got it." Arros breathes out. "No. She's right. It was unchivalrous to touch her so." He straightens up, and gives Rona a sad look. "I'd let you do it again if only you'd stay."

Peri eyes Rona and just frowns "Do take care not to rupture such handsome men if you must attack their jewels." she mumbles, pulling Griffyth to look at her so she can properly tend to him, "I'll need some arnica paste."

"Oh?" Bleary blink, and there's a glance between Arros and Rona. "Do they not make certain a woman is comfortable before laying hands on her in Dorne?" His shit-eating smile is spoiled by a sore, still-bleeding lip. "Consider me chastised," Griffyth tells Rona, ears still gently ringing. "How about you dote on me and henpeck me to death in a proper bath, miss Peri? I need a good long soak. Or else to fall into a bed for some hours until my wits return to me."
Peri pages: but mild not mind fucking.
You paged Peri with 'Trying to think if Garvin would have any. Sounds like something a maester would have, and there isn't one at Garden Isle.'

Peri eyes Griffyth "Come on, before you get your teeth kicked in for being an arse, Lord Tyrell, may I join him in a bath to massage his flesh?" she asks, voice soft and warm. "And make sure he doesn't pass out in the water?"
Peri pages: you would have some.
Peri pages: it'd be first aid and for little aches and pains.
Peri pages: You are a swordfighter, you'd use it on your shoulders and bruises after spars.

Garvin nods to Rona, eyes alight. "Indeed, I hope we do, and soon." He blinks in confusion at Peri then, lips frowning, but the steward nods and sends a boy off to fetch the paste. Garvin continues to look confused at Peri's request. "You wish to be…in the bath…with him?" he asks. Well, this isn't at all proper! He shakes his head quickly, waving toward the tower door. "Yes, of course, for his safety. I'll be up shortly to show Ser Arros to his bath."

Rona rolls her eyes at Peri. "Incredible that a woman can be chided for protecting herself." Ironically, it is Arros that gets the most sympathetic look (other than her dear, gracious host, Garvin). "Ser Arros, I would not wish that upon you again, even if I could stay. But I think it best that I go." She gives him a warm smile, and Lord Garvin a respectful bow. "A good evening to you all." Turning on her heel, she saunters out, back into the night.
Peri whispers: If your tub is large enough I can massage all three of you.
You paged Griffyth and Peri with 'Okay, the boy who was sent to the kitchen to order two baths wasn't very bright and only said to prepare Lord Garvin's bath, so when you get upstairs, someone will point you to Garvin's room. Wait till you see the bath. :) Of course, it means that if I ever get Arros up there, he'll hafta get in the same bath with ya.'

"She's gone." Arros says unhappily as Rona walks out. He hobbles over to the table to pick up his forgotten glass, and drinks deeply before holding out the cup to let a servant refill it. "By the Seven, but I wish she wasn't gone."

Peri pulls Griff's hand, eying Arros "I deeply apologize for your injury and sadness." she offers, trying to tug Griff up to bathe and possibly soothe.

Garvin bows to Rona again as well, then watches Peri helping Griffyth up the stairs. He lets out another breath, then moves to the table as Arros' goblet is refilled. "You fought well, Ser Arros," he says, his voice holding a new respect. "I apologize for my earlier words. You truly are welcome to have a hot bath. It will ease more aches than one, and I suspect Peri would be happy to ease a few more…within reason, of course. Would you like to follow me upstairs?"

"She seemed charmed right up until you did—whatever you did." It's not as if Griffyth saw it, he was busy being tended to in a primarily dazed state. Clapping Arros absently on the shoulder, Griffyth appears more than willing to allow Peri to guide him. He's still upright, so that must count for something even if he stumbles a little with her hand clutching his. There's no effort to reclaim his doublet and tunic, more concerned with the blazing headache that besets him.

Arros has another swallow of the wine, and sits the cup down on the table. "Ser Griffyth can have Peri, but I would be grateful for a hot bath, and a soft bed to fall into tonight, Lord Garvin." He rubs his hands across his face, and frowns. "…Do you know her well?" He nods his head in the direction Rona left.

Garvin looks toward the door as well, shaking his head. "Not well at all, no," he says, leading the way to the nearest tower-stairs. "You seem most taken with her though. I'd heard you Dornes had blood that ran particularly hot, and that you like your women to be as brave and strong as men." He pauses at the top step, then adds, "Among other things I've heard."

"Some men like delicate women. Some like the strong sort." Arros shrugs a shoulder as he follows Garvin up the stairs, "Some men like boys. There was this boy at a pillow house in the city outside of Hellholt. Was as beautiful as the finest courtesan's in Braavos. You would not know he wasn't a woman until he took his robe off and you saw he didn't have breasts." He smiles and shakes his head, "Or so I heard. I've never had a taste for other men."

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