(121-02-10) Lord Pansy Gets a Proposal
Lord Pansy Gets a Proposal
Summary: Visenya Targaryen makes a shocking proposal to Garvin Tyrell.
Date: (10/02/2014)
Related: none

Terrace - Quill and Tankard

The Quill and Tankard's terrace occupies the area of of the little island that is not filled by the tall, timbered, southward-leaning building itself. There are ragged little stacks of stone sticking up from the Earth around the island's banks, the remains of a wall that once kept drunkards from falling into the river but has now been knocked down and robbed of its stones enough that it better serves to trip them and make sure that they fall headlong into the Honeywine instead of merely walking in. They are rather picturesque. Tall torches stand along the ruined wall. They're lit at night, and in foggy weather.

There's a single, ancient apple tree in the middle of this area. The rest grass, made sparse by the passage of too many feet, flagstone footpaths that help keep the guests from muddying their feet too much in the rain, and weathered tables and benches. Tall torches surround some, but not all, of the larger tables.

Visenya puts her hand on Garvin's arm, and allows him to guide her towards the Terrace. Once they are outside she will turn her head slightly to offer the young Tyrell a gentle smile, "Daevon and I have discussed you at length, Lord Garvin." There's a pause, "He has some..concerns. Regarding Cerys."

Garvin looks absolutely terrified, walking very stiffly beside Visenya. Once they're outside and she speaks, he freezes his footsteps, eyes bugging. "C-concerns, my lady?" he says, voice shaky. "Whatever d-do you mean?" He doesn't turn toward her, fixing his wide gaze on the river.

Visenya retains her smile, "Cerys keeps…ah, crying." She says, "She seems convinced that you will never love her. Cerys, you see, has romantic aspirations." Thre's a pause, "You are aware that Daevon and I are betrothed?"

The sound of armor clacking and shifting faintly escapes from the door from the main area of the Q&T before a armored guard dressed in house Morrigen colors opens the door, holding it open as Jasyne strolls through with a frown upon his face. Once inside, the guard continues to hold the door open as two more following through, holding spears in hand. Jasyne doesn't look too happy, and considering his natural looks that's a pretty scary expression he's got. The guards, as usual due to the lords both famous and infamous reputation, are heavily armored, their features concealed under helmets. Jasyne slowly strolls along, a short-ways away from the two but still close enough for him to be noticeable and within hearing distance, but not for the two to have any reason to be uncomfortable with his & his guards presence. His arms are crossed along his chest, his right index finger tapping against his arm as he is accompanied by a guard behind him, and one on either side, looking around in a aware manner.

Garvin gulps audibly, the fingers of his free hand opening and closing at his side, and he desperately wishes he'd thought to get a fresh goblet of wine before heading outside. "I don't know how I can convince your lovely sister of my honorable intentions," he says, still staring at the Honeywine. "I've sent her gifts, I've sent a hundred messages through your brother, and…betrothed, my lady?" He steals a glance toward her. "N-no, I wasn't aware you and he were to be married. Are you sure that's wise? His knightly vows, after all…." When he glances back to the door as it opens, he visibly jumps a tiny bit, eyes bulging wide again at the sight of Lord Morrigen. He doesn't seem to recognize the man, but his appearance sets Lord Pansy shivering.

"Cerys has always been a bit of a weeper." Visenya says with a casual little shrug of her shoulder, "She's a bit…ah, dramatic, that one. And selfish." She doesn't spare words when she describes her sister. One might think she even holds a bit of a grudge. "And I do not know if it is wise. He is my twin. We shared our mother's womb. I would do it because it is my duty, and it is what my parents desire. However, it is not what Daevon wants. And because it is not what Daevon wants, I would be willing to make a compromise." She turns her head to look at Garvin, and her smile widens, "Unlike Cerys, I do not need a husband who is attentive to my needs. I don't think marriage should be about love so much as mutual benefit. I would like to be friends with my husband, and further his cause. I wouldn't require passion and romance." She gives Garvin a pointed look, "And…from what I've heard of you, Lord Garvin, my sister is not your type at all. Perhaps you should seek another sister from the family?"

Garvin's face drains of all color, and his mouth gapes open, as he finally turns to look directly at Visenya. After a long, stunned silence, he finally finds his voice. "Is…is my lady suggesting that she is, perhaps, more my…type?" He shivers again, and his right hand closes into a fist, but there's still no goblet there. So he begins babbling again, words spilling too quickly from his lips. "Lady Cerys is very lovely, and I understand she has a romantic heart and longs for the love of a good, strong man to hold her in his arms and say all the romantic things that men say to women, and I know she's not at all happy that your lord father and mine have arranged this marriage, as I'm not at all the sort of man she dreamt she'd one day marry, but of course, we cannot choose our spouses, can we? That only happens in the ballads, and look how often those end in tragedy. If only my Thorn weren't already betrothed to Lady Locke, I know Lady Cerys would be so much happier with a man such as he, but he is betrothed, and instead of brave Ser Thorn, she's stuck marrying Lord Pansy, and that's why she cries." He finally stops to draw a long breath. "Forgive me, my lady, what was the question again?"

"Yes, I believe I am." Visenya pats Garvin's hand lightly as he begins to babble. "My Lord father is beginning to have doubts that Daevon will go through with our marriage, and I do not wish to remain an old maid waiting for my brother to change his mind when I know he won't. He would never willingly marry me." She shrugs softly, "Marry Cerys or me, you will still have a match with House Targaryen. However, if you take me to wife you will have a helpmate instead of a woman who resents you with all of her being. And if anyone can hold a grudge it's Cerys. Trust me on this."

The Morrigen lord scoffs lightly, tilting his head over to the right as a light grin, not that of a friendly one either. He appears to have been listening, considering his somewhat sinister expression. Bringing his right hand up to his chin, running his thumb along his facial hair. He doesn't speak however, simply remaining silent as he appears to be amused by what the Targaryen lady had said. His guards remain silent and watchful, the one behind Jasyne occasionally glancing over to the two, but not for long.

Garvin chews nervously at his lower lip, daring to meet Visenya's eyes at last, searching for some clue or other. "And wh-what would you help me with, my Lady Targaryen?" he asks, voice quivering again. "Have you and Ser Dae sp-spoken about my…my type?" Having uttered the question, he suddenly blushes again and looks away. This brings Jasyne into his line of sight once more, and a shudder runs through him, as he focuses a bit too long on the man's large facial scar.

"When I am not unwell, I am told that I am quite shrewd and clever. I admit I can be delicate of health at times." Visenya doesn't go into details about this. "And I hope to see a new maester in Oldtown in regards to my health." Her smile widens slightly at his next question, and her amethyst eyes flash slightly, "Oh yes. I know all about your type, Lord Garvin." She pats his hand again. Jasyne gets a cool glance, and nothing more. The petite Targaryen maiden appears to be unafraid of him.

Garvin swallows again as he turns back to Visenya, unable to meet her eyes again. "I…He promised not to say anything. To anyone. I was going to tell Lady Cerys myself, but was waiting until Ser Dae could be there as well. And, of course, until Lady Cerys granted me permission to call upon her." He pauses for a long moment, the blush in his face slowly fading. "If you are seeking a maester, I would suggest sending for Maester Thane at the Citadel. He saw me only this morning, about my arm." He lifts his left arm slightly, the arm Visenya has been holding. "It was Archmaester Luckin who stitched it back together days and days ago, but Maester Thane you treated me this morning, and I found him a most pleasant man."

"Don't blame him. I knew there had to be a reason, and grilled him. Besides, I am his twin. It is almost like talking to yourself, really." Visenya says to Garvin. "It would be better if Cerys never knew. She cries and weeps and carries on about it in public as it is. What would she say once you told her?"

Garvin begins opening and closing both hands now, the right one at his side, and the left one at the end of the arm Lady Visenya is lightly holding. He's visibly shaking, his face growing more pale by the moment. "No, perhaps it would be better if she never knew," he agrees, eyes darting back to the Honeywine. "But I cannot in good conscience marry her if she doesn't know. And I…I must do my duty to my family and my realm. If anything were to happen to my dear brother, Matrim, then I would be…and there would need to be heirs, of course. My lord father did his duty, as his lord father did before him, and I expect Matrim will do the same, once he's finally been married. Yes, duty, one must do one's duty. A man who doesn't has no honor, after all." Once more, his eyes dart over toward Jasyne, standing a bit away with some of his men, apparently amused by the conversation he's overhearing.

"And if she knew she'd let the world know about your deficiency." Visenya says softly to Garvin. "She's already made it clear to many her dissatisfaction with you. I told you, My Lord. She's selfish. A bit cruel, really." She turns her head to regard Garvin with her bright amethyst eyes, "Why subject yourself to that, my dear Lord Garvin? All you need do is profess your love to one of her sister's. Ask for her hand in her place. You need not do anything else."

Isador walks in from the main floor of the Quill cup of mead in hand yawning and stretching first but then directing a lazy curtsey to Garvin and Visenya. But keeping a respectful distance. She offers them both a cautious but warm smile.

Garvin blinks a few times, turning back to Visenya again. "Love? What…? Profess my…hand of…another sister? How would that help at all? Even if my lord father could be convinced, there'd be your lord father, not to mention your lady mother, who wrote me sheets and sheets of letter about how she preferred me to Matrim, and even if all of them could be convinced, it would not solve the true issue, which is…er…what did my lady call it? My deficiency?" He blushes, but only a little bit, his skin quickly turning pale once more. Seriously, doesn't this place have any barmaids on the terrace? A man could die of sobriety over here!

"You let Daevon and I figure that out." Visenya says softly, and with a small smile, "As for your shortcomings…well, you'll do your duty. We'll both bear through it. And, when we are satisfied with the amount of children, we will be able to stop doing such duties. I do not see it as a problem. Indeed, I don't even mind all that much."

Jasyne grunts quietly bringing his hands down to his sides, tapping his right hand against his right leg as he leans in over to one of his guards, silently muttering something before reverting back to his original status, yawning before looking around slowly, seemingly uninterested of their conversation now by this point.

Garvin's brows draw together in confusion. Can she really be saying what it sounds like she's saying? A heated, internal debate goes on behind his glazed eyes, but finally, he seems to come to some conclusion. "My lady, if I might ask, what…exactly did Ser Dae tell you? Do you understand that I…I will do my duty, as honor requires, but I will take no joy from the act, as other men do. What joy I would seek would be found with…others. Others who must, of course, remain completely secret for fear of scandal."

"Yes. I understand that." Visenya nods her head once. "I thought I made that rather clear?" Her voice lowers again, and she mentions, "My brother suggested that I be allowed to find the same solace in others. I haven't decided if this would please me or if I'd rather just not bother with the whole thing. It sounds all…complicated. I don't like complications. Makes things messy. But, I would not deny you your secret pleasures."

Garvin quickly glances away again, his cheeks flushing. "Secret pleasures," he murmurs, looking out across the river. "Messy indeed. Very messy." He takes a long, deep breath, calming himself, then looks at Visenya once more. "I will do whatever my lord father says I must. If you and Ser Dae wish to influence his decision in some way…that is something I cannot prevent, nor would I try."

"I will let my brother decide." Visenya says, "I truly desire to wed him, if only to keep our bloodlines pure, but I will settle for this if it will bring him some measure of relief and happiness." She looks out across the river before adding, "I would prefer your brother, of course, but you'll do, I suppose. Any lower and I would refuse. I am a Targaryen, after all." That said, she turns back to Garvin, and offers him another pretty smile, "I think I will fetch my brother, and he and I shall return home. Go have a lovely evening, Lord Garvin."

Garvin forces a smile as well, still looking very uncomfortable by the whole situation. "Of course, my lady," he says, stepping back to offer her a bow. "Good evening, and save journey home. Please give my affection to your brother, but I think I shall stay here a bit longer. The air, you know, very good for me."

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