(121-03-24) New Moves
New Moves
Summary: In which a bastard dragon arrives and a game of cyvasse is played.
Date: March 24, 2014
Related: none
Players:
Aevander..Emrys..Elionys..

It's later afternoon, and Aevander is seated at the table in one of the sitting rooms, killing a bit of time by playing both sides of a Cyvasse game. He rests his chin in his palm as he considers the board, the fingers of his other hand quietly drumming.

There's a sound of action and commotion down amongst the main hall. And certainly it would go down the halls, shouts-though nothing seems to be of alarm save a few surprised shouts, and then nothing, save the pattern of bootfalls scuffing along the smooth stone floors. A door would be open soon enough into the forementioned sitting room as a breathless servant calls out: "I tried to make em wait, Ser."

"Hold your tongue, or I'll cut it."

That is what follows, followed by a rough hand jerking the young man back, before a man in a mixture of leather and armor steps in. Dusty and soiled from the road. "Afternoon." a proper greeting leaves the knight followed by a nod of his head before he is stalking over to where a flagon and cups are kept. He'll pour his own wine, likely watered down, thank you. Emrys Pyke, the drowned dragon-though not officially called such to his face, is likely a better guest than some.

He didn't bring any heads with him. "Who is winning?"

Aevander glances up as the dusty knight tromps into the room and then looks back down to the board. He makes a move, nudging one piece forward, before he answers, "I am." Then he rests his chin on his other palm as he turns the board. "Don't manhandle the servants, they're on edge enough, already."

"Can't help if they are on edge. I'm not the one killing roses on the road, or nor am I dornish." And there Emrys looks up as he pours one cup before motioning to the other a brow raised in Aevander's direction. "You know me, or do I need to give formal greetings?" With family-or rather half family one never knows where you stand.

Regardless of Aevander's indication to drink, he is pouring a second cup anyway. "I don't understand that game." he admits. "I know it's big here and in Dorne. But otherwise, them I ran with never touched it." A look up. "It's goal?"

"Capture the king," Aevander replies. "and thus claim the field of battle. I would have thought such an exercise would appeal to a Pyke." Well, so perhaps that answers the question of whether or not Aevander knows who stands before him. He looks away from the board and over at his… let's just call them cousins. It's easiest and probably correct. "Welcome to Oldtown, Ser Emrys."

"So you can take his head Aye?" His voice is not close to cultured as the men and women of the Crownlands. He holds the bite and bark of the Isle's as his companions. "Dangerous game for our kin to play, if you think. Macabre." He knows his words even if he cannot read them. And so he moves offering the cup over to Aevander. "I don't remember if it's you or another that doesn't drink. If you don't I'll drink it up as well." he admits before taking a pull of his own cup.

"Thank you." A wry grin given before he looks back behind him as the servant closes the door. "Queer place this."

"I drink," Aevander replies, accepting the glass. "Perhaps you're thinking of my brother, Daevon. He takes his knightly vows very seriously, and thus abstains from a number of things." Sip. A corner of his mouth quirks as he swallows. "I expect it's gotten that much queerer for your arriving," he teases with a laugh.

"A pity, that." Emrys replies from the rim of his cup, as his own smirk widens into a natural grin. "There's many a pleasure I'd not want to abstain from." he adds before he is coming around to eye the board and it's pieces. "Oh- a joke?" the knight quips with a look to Aevander. "Should I laugh there." almost easily anger raised or so it seems.

Then he teases a grin before laughing. "Likely so. I was getting into trouble-though it seems there's more trouble here for me or us-than I expected."

A pause. "A head?"

"What about the head?" Aevander asks, his fingers drumming before he picks up another pieces, moves it and turns the board again. "I'm actually not sure where it is now. Returned to the Tyrells, I believe." He glances over at Emrys, bros lifting. "Were you? Getting into trouble? How so?"

Elionys doesn't burst into the room and announce herself, but instead moves into the doorway and lingers there, visible should anyone look, but quiet. That way they can't accuse her of snooping, not exactly. She props one shoulder against the frame of the door, hands folding before her as she watches the men with their game.

"Is it still here?" Emrys asks from his cup. That is something that clearly has his attention there before he is sighing. "Thank God." oh right, he doesn't believe in the seven. That should prove weird come holy days. A shake of his head once more before he is picking up the dragon and eyeing it before putting it back in place. "That's the best piece, yes?" He can jump amongst the conversation topics, easily.

"I got into fight with a Darke-threatened to geld him an almost did. He's a friend of one of our uncles." he adds and so he looks back "I don't fit there, I think."

A shrug and eyes catch Elionys coming in there at the door. A small smile is offered her, before he is looking back down and then over to Aevander. "I hope I won't be an inconvenience..I-I know I am not well received by some of the family."

"Well, depends on what you mean by 'best'," Aevander replies. "It's one of the most versatile pieces, but you don't lose the game if you lose a dragon so… the beauty of cyvasse is that any piece is powerful, if used to its greatest advantage." A brow lifts for Emrys's reason in coming to Oldtown and then he shrugs. "I think you will find, ser, that the majority of Targaryens in Oldtown aren't especially well-received by the family. To that end, this could be a hideaway. Or a fresh start, should you so wish it, ser." He follows Emrys's gaze to the door and laughs softly to see Elionys leaning there. "Princess Elionys, this is Ser Emrys Pyke, a cousin by blood if not by name."

"Another cousin?" Elionys asks, and from some this might sound like a complaint, but she seems nothing short of delighted to have another realtive present. Now that she's been spotted, she pushes from her place in the doorway and moves further into the room, towards them to claim a nearby seat. "It is lovely to meet you, Ser Emrys."

"Or someone's brother. You never know." Emrys jests back towards Elionys. "Don't worry. I won't room with you, unless you ask nicely." A teased if not poorly directed flirt-before he is motioning to the wine. "Would you like some?" And he's moving to pour himself another round, while he's at it.

"Lovely." a laugh leaves Emrys, though it's not a gentle kind.

"Thank you for the kindness, Elionys." apparently he doesn't use the appropriate nomenclature that might come with ranks. "I'll remember it, when folk ask how I liked the weather here." And so he turns back to Aevander. "Besides roses and roaches. Anything else I should be privy to? is Daevon here?" all rattled out before some wine slips over the edge of his cup. "Oh, fuck all.." muttered before he's wiping his hand on his overtunic.

Aevander's hand curls into a quiet fist as he fights the urge to lift it and pinch the bridge of his nose. Oh, this is going to take work. He clears his throat and considers. "I believe the issues with the Dornish and the Tyrells are the major ones at present. Ser Daevon is still in town, though that may shortly change. One can never be fully sure with him, he is prone to travel."

That poorly directed flirt causes Elionys' cheeks to flare with color, seeming for a moment, or several, entirely at a loss for words. Her gaze darts to Aevander, then back to Emrys at the offer of wine. "…wine would be lo—" she halts there, flushing a little more. "Yes, I would like some wine."

Emrys chuckles slightly before he is licking a finger. Eyes watching his cousin carefull before he is nodding. "Oh good. And here I was worried there is more. Please let me know how I can aid. You'll find I hate having idle hands. Tools of the Stranger they are." noted before he is looking to Elionys. A wink, ghosted before he is pouring another drink. "Of course."

But he doesn't bring it over just yet. Instead he stares for a moment, while he drinks his own fill. A nod, and the other cup is snatched up and taken over towards his other cousin. "Here.."

"Um, in future, Ser Emrys, it would be advisable to be less… forward… when addressing a princess of Westeros," Aevander advises. "Crassness does not win the day or much goodwill with such a woman." He picks up his own goblet and has a generous swallow.

Elionys gaze meets and for at least a few moments, holds with Emrys, then drops again to the board upon which the game is being played. She doesn't say another word until the wine is brought to her, and then it's only a murmured thanks before she's taking a healthy drink of wine.

A look is given back towards Aevander. "We're family…You can call me Emrys." he adds in a quiet reproach of his cousin. Likely still getting used to the title, which the event caused a spectacle in King's Landing not too long back. And with that he looks back towards Elionys. "If she objects, I will stop." as simple as that.

A kind enough smile is passed to Elionys before he is looking back to Aevander. "As I've broken protocol. Allow me to slide out before I make it worse." A twinge of frustration there? Likely. "I'll be round for supper." he adds before sliding out to go and see to his own quarters..where ever they be.

Aevander watches Emrys go before looking over to Elionys and then at the cyvasse board. "He's an interesting addition," he muses, "but I think I may like him. Do you play cyvasse?"

"I have absolutely no opinion on him yet," Elionys remarks, but her gaze trails the departing cousin and lingers on the doorway a few beats after he's gone. She is, if nothing else, intrigued. "Cyvasse? Yes, I do. Shall I step in for him, or should we start a new game?"

"No opinion at all," Aevander 'agrees' with a faint smile as Elionys watches the door. "Oh, he wasn't playing. I don't think he knows how. I had both sides," Aevander replies, moving to reset the board to the start. "I'd enjoy a real game."

"Oh," Elionys looks back to the board as the pieces are put back into place. "It's been a few months since I've played, but I will gladly do so now. I have always loved the game." And spending so much of her life indoors, she's had a lot of practice. "When did he arrive?" she asks, gaze ticking up to that empty doorway again. "Was he expected?"

"Just a few minutes before you did," Aevander replies, turning the board so Elionys gets the lighter set and thus the first move. "A letter came the day before he did."

"Mmm. Well, he will be an interesting addition to the house," Elionys' eyes come to rest on the board as she considers her first move. "Is there any news, aside from the arrival of this new cousin?" she asks, selecting a rabble and moving it a space.

"We are going to loose a small party to try and get to the bottom of the slaughter at Wickham's Nest," Aevander replies. "Daevon will head it, which should help it be seen as impartial. Well. I hope."

Elionys' gaze ticks up from the board, and the look that she gives Aevander is rather dubious. "Do you truly think that?" she asks. She takes another drink of the wine that was poured for her, brows furrowing slightly. "Is it wise to go there at all? Do you expect that you will find something different than the men that went before?"

"I don't know," Aevander replies, "but waiting for someone else to do something has become ridiculous, and since I have no access to knights I trust who aren't affiliated with this mess, the best I can do is select a few from each side that seem very unlikely to try to kill one another."

"I do agree that it's become ridiculous," Elionys remarks with another look down at the board between them. "How can the house of Targaryen have so few trusted knights? That seems so out of balance." At least to what she's accustom to.

"We have many trusted knights," Aevander replies, "just not many in Oldtown, and considering the…. idiosycriscies of many of the nobility here, it seemed the better part of wisdom to chose those already familiar with the lay of the land." He glances from the board to Elionys. "But I am distracting you."

"Yes, I only meant not here," Elionys assures him as she glances up again, brows lifting. "I moved." She points to the piece that she nudged forward a space. "It's your turn."

"Perhaps I am just distracting myself, then," Aevander replies wryly. He selects a piece of his own and nudges it out a space.

"Perhaps," Elionys answers with a merry laugh, and as soon as his piece is set down on the board, she reaches out to move her next piece. "Do you think you'll be going, or will you remain here?"

"Well," Aevander sighs, "I wouldn't mind going, seeing this all with my own eyes. I'm good at puzzles, and this is certainly a puzzle. But Visenya is, mmm, well, you saw her the other night. I can't leave her on her own, right now. Daevon knows well enough how to lead a group of armed men. It will be fine." He makes his next move and rests his chin on his palm.

Elionys nods slightly, a small frown settling on her lips at the memory. "I did, and I understand why you would hesitate in going. I suppose it's just a matter of where you are most useful. If…" she hesitates, nose crinkling slightly. "If you think you should go, I will do what I can to look after her."

"I am not sure going would be wise," Aevander replies with a soft sigh, "This may be something Daevon would prefer to do on his own. We have been at odds the past few days, my company may be more a hinderance than a help. But, stay or go, I think Visenya could use a female friend. One who is not intimidated by her darker moments."

"I will try, though she doesn't seem very inclined to have me as a friend," Elionys remarks, and it sounds more like a statement of fact rather than a complaint. "I will do what I can to try."

"She is guarded and proud," Aevander allows softly. "That does not mean she is not lonely."

"I'm sure that she is, and I will try to help," Elionys' tone is gentler this time, eyes lifting from the board after she makes her next move. "She is lucky to have you as a brother."

Aevander smiles wryly and only gives a small shake of his head. "It's not enough," he says simply, considering the board before bringing his dragon out and into play.

"No, it's not, but could you imagine where she would be without you?" asks Elionys, eyes narrowing on the piece that he moves. This time, she takes a little longer before deciding on what her next move will be.

"Well, she would likely have fewer belongings," Aevander teases with a small, sad smile. "She's so sensitive underneath it all, you see. That's the real trouble, how deeply everything cuts her."

"And how much she tries to hide the fact that it hurts her," Elionys adds, moving a catapult into play. "I will try," she repeats this again, softly. "See if I can't help to… I don't know. Just help."

Aevander regards Elionys and smiles softly. "Thank you," he murmurs. "That would mean a great deal to me."

"You're welcome," Elionys answers in an equally soft tone, smiling at him in return. "So, tell me what else is happening. Anything at all? I saw that our uncle has moved out, and even dropped in to see him. He's as interesting as I recall him being."

"So he has," Aevander agrees wryly, "and after that whole fuss between Daevon and I over whether or not he should stay here." He gives his head a small shake. "Typical, really." He nudges one of his rabble a square further.

This time it's a light horse that gets moved, jumping forward three spaces. "He said something about hosting some kind of melee soon and asked that I attend," Elionys remarks. "It's so strange seeing people that I haven't seen since I was a child. I always think them so much larger and more frightening in my memory than they really are."

"Yes, from what the servants tell me, he seems to want to f-…" Aevander frowns and rephrases, "-he has been very forward with the Targaryen women he has met. Have a care with him. We haven't had a chance to properly talk, and I've still no idea what the man's about." He sweeps his dragon across several squares to claim Elionys's light horse.

Elionys' eyes tick up from the board to rest on Aevander after that near slip, but from him, it only makes her smile a little. "He made no advances on me," she assures, though it's also entirely possible that he did, and she simply didn't understand them for what they were. The move with the dragon was expected, and her movement of the catapult is probably just as expected. She can't capture yet, but soon, unless that piece is moved.

Rather than moving his dragon just yet, it's his armored horse that Aevander begins to move towards the catapult. "Well," he murmurs. "Good, then."

Elionys seems just about to move the catapult, but stops, hand hanging over the piece a few seconds before withdrawing. She narrows her eyes on the board, and after considering, reaches for the elephant piece instead, which she advances on another of his pieces. "I will be careful."

Aevander's brows lift and a smile curls him mouth as Elionys reconsiders. he nudges his horse one step away from the catapult. The next move will claim it, if it remains where it sits. "I don't think they call him 'The Ashen Prince' for his pale complexion."

Rather than move the catapult, Elionys persists in this plan, yet again moving the elephant. This time in a position that, unless he moves his piece, he will lose his trebuchet. "I don't suppose they do. I promise I will be careful? He truly didn't try a thing though, we conversed, drank some wine and ate a few… interesting foods, and then he was called away to meet with someone over this melee of his."

Aevander nods. "You have a sound head on your shoulders, cos. I trust you to know what you're about, and if you say you'll be careful, then I know you shall be." He moves his armored horse, claiming Elionys's catapult and sacrificing his trebuchet to her elephant.

He takes the catapult, and in her next turn, she the trebuchet. "I don't mind it." Elionys' eyes are on the board as she says it. "It's not that I want the attention, but… but they're not afraid of it. I—…" She hesitates again, using that brief silence to polish off her wine. "In King's Landing, I was coddled, I was the sick girl who couldn't fend for herself, everyone tried to tread lightly like I might shatter if they even spoke to loudly in my presence. It's not that way here. It's nice."

"Certainly not when cousin Emrys is in the room," Aevander agrees with a wry smirk. He nudges another piece of rabble toward her armored horse.

Just the mention of him, of his crass comments, have Elionys blushing only slightly less furiously than before. She makes no comment on him, and instead reaches for a spearman to move him forward on the board.

Hmmm. The idea of Maelys being crass caused no blushing. Aevander's near crassness caused no blushing. But Emrys… Aevander's eyes widen and he sucks in a small "shocked" gasp. "Cousin. You fancy him, don't you."

The accusation causes Elionys to bump the board, nearly causing pieces atop it to tumble over, and that only serves to make the moment even more embarrassing. "I do not," she insists, but as she does, her face turns beet red. "I just… I just thought him a bit handsome is all, and then he opened his mouth and spoke. That's all."

Aevander lifts a hand so he can cover his mouth and hide his smile at Elionys's reaction. "He is not an unhandsome man, our peculiar cousin," he agrees. "Only… have a car with him, as well. Moreso with him, I think, if he pleases you."

Elionys gets to her feet as she waits for Aevander to make his move, taking her glass with her to refill it with wine. "I will be careful with him as well. He just caught me off guard, that's it. I'm sure it won't happen again." It's with a full glass that she returns to her seat, and once settled, her eyes fall on the board.

Aevander takes his time correcting the toppled pieces and sends his armored horse to meet Elionys's spearman. "I am sure it won't," Aevander soothes, sounding rather the opposite of that.

"It won't," Elionys insists, only more quietly this time, and maybe a little less certain. "Why are we talking about him anyway?" She leans forward to move her own trebuchet forward, making it possible to attack the armored horse. Next turn, of course.

Aevander considers, opting to move his horse out of harm's way, this time, rather than claim the spearman and sacrifice it to the trebuchet. "I don't know. I suppose it just came up."

"Yes, I know," Elionys' tone is gentler now, even if her next move is aggressive, giving chase to the spearman with her trebuchet. "I'm sorry."

Aevander moves the spearman away again, his eyes darting over the board. "You've nothing to apologize for, Elionys. I'm sorry I was teasing you."

And thus they play the rest of their game and the scene fades.

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