(121-04-07) A Crumb of Common Sense
A Crumb of Common Sense
Summary: In which Aevander tells his squire what for.
Date: April 11, 2014
Related: Poor Instructions

Having returned from the… errand, shall we say, of feeding the wild dragon to keep it from torching Oldtown and putting a dent in the number of whores in the city, Aegon finds himself abed with the help of a few servants. Atop the sheets, it is plain that he's bruised and battered. The knees of his trousers are torn open, the skin of both underneath badly torn, and congealed blood stains his clothes at irregular, but alarmingly numerous places. He is sitting up, watching the open doorway expectantly.

And look at that. His expectation is answered. It was upon discovering Elionys's bruises that Aevander learned his squire was even worse off. He thumps up the stairs, down the hall and through the doorway. "Sweet seven," he snaps, more irritable than sympathetic, "what the hell were you thinking?"

Just as irritable, Aevander is likely not who Aegon was waiting to stomp through the door, and is met with a frown. "What was I… I was…" He seems confused, features wrinkling up as he puzzles this out. "It needed to be fed? I don't… what do you mean?"

"It did not occur to you to perhaps mention where you were going?" Aevander answers testily, "or to avoid bringing a young woman with no fighting skills and shaky health along with you?"

"Your brother said to ask forgiveness, not permission," Aegon replies, wincing as he moves a hand to scratch behind his neck. It's one of the few spots on him unscathed. "I didn't… no, I didn't think to avoid taking her. She wanted to come. I p— I protected her, didn't I?"

"My brother is a fine man to seek advice from when it comes to blades or horses," Aevander replies, "but I would not advise you to take to heart his philosophies on how to live one's life." He considers before he says, "You certainly look the worse for it, but I am not sure being bruised and battered less counts as 'protection'."

"I suppose it would have been a good thing to know a week ago," Aegon says of the advice re:Daevon, voice strained. He sighs, but that hurts, and he grunts a little. "She'd never even seen a dragon. It's a sad thing for a Targaryen to never have seen."

"Well, now she's seen one and be slapped about by it, well done," Aevander replies, not sounding especially approving. "And if the thing had decided to bite either of you in half, how much protection could you have offered, mmm? Gods, is there no one under this room capable of a crumb of common sense?"

"It didn't… what? She didn't say it had slapped her about, did she?" Aegon's even more confused now, staring at his knight from under a heavy creased brow. As for common sense and crumbs, and even the question of protection, he says nothing.

"She did not," Aevander agrees. "She did not say at all what caused her to be bruised near from head to toe. Please, squire Aegon, elucidate me."

Aegon moves to scratch at his neck again, bearing the pain with another wince that sees his eyes shut tightly. "Uh," could be just the kind of noise borne of said pain, or perhaps time bought for thinking. "The road wasn't as… easy, as I'd anticipated. The horses didn't travel well."

Aevander looks… less than convinced. "And you are bruised and bloodied because you took a tumble off your horse?"

Aegon opens his eyes again to look Aevander in his. "More than one," he continues. "What, you don't think the damned dragon did this? They're not renowned for letting prey go, Ser."

"I think if it was horses bucking you off, Elionys wouldn't have felt the need to slap my brother and accuse him of negligence," Aevander replies tightly, "So, indeed, I do feel the 'damn dragon' had a fair sight to do with it, somehow."

"He could have told us we'd need donkeys," Aegon points out in testy reply.

"Really," Aevander replies flatly. "That is the story you are choosing to tell. A lack of donkeys."

"How are we meant to stay ahorse when the damned creatures can't even stay upright?" Aegon is clearly annoyed, running with his story. "A dragon's a dragon, and we weren't eaten. A couple of sheep were."

"A knight needs to be able to trust his squire," Aevander replies quietly. "If you are going to insist on this nonsense, I will send you packing back to Dragonstone as soon as you're hale enough to move. Now. For the last time: what happened?"

"Dragonstone's where I belong, anyway," mutters Aegon, hooking his hands underneath one knee and adjusting it's position slightly. When he's satisfied with it, and after much more of that ugly wincing he's abeen doing, he sighs heavily and glances back to his knight. (He really is a shocking squire.) "Look," he says, levelling somewhat, "The dragon didn't touch her, I swear it. It came to see who we were and what we were about, and flew off to eat some sheep. I'll swear it on any oath you like, Ser."

"Then how did she get so bruised?" Aevander presses, "and how did you come to be so bloody. The truth, Aegon."

Aegon sighs again, his shoulders sinking defeatedly. "The way was rocky, the horses were faltering," he tells it true, "A dragon's wingbeats stir up a great wind, you know?"

Aevander offers a small nod. "Go on."

"So… sometimes, when they land nearby, there's a bit of a…" Aegon circles his hands in front of him, looking for the right words. "A stir? The way was rocky," he repeats. "And it came to land right by us."

"And how was it you tried to protect Elionys in that moment?" Aevander asks next.

Aegon lifts his brows at his knight, surprised it needs to be asked. "Huh? I stepped in front of her, to shield her from the spray?"

Aevander nods. "All right," he allows. "But if I fine you have lied to me, I shall make you regret it, lad. Now," he sighs, pushing an hand through his hair, "have you been seen by a healer, yet?"

"Mmph," is the squire's response to the allowance made for him. Nothing more. As for a healer: "I'm, ah, I sent for someone, but I rather think it's taking a fair while. Maybe they're afraid to interrupt you, Ser."

Aevander lifts a brow and his mouth quirks in a faint smile. "Wise fellow. I'll send him in if I see him cowering in the hallway. And next time, for gods' sake, tell someone if you're going to go galavanting after a bloody dragon."

"I'm —" Aegon cuts himself off, thinking better of whatever it is. "Glad she got to see one," is what he finishes off with, returning the faint smile. "Will do," he resolves, fairly sincere.

"Mmmm," Aevander replies, eyes squinting a little. Then he nods and heads out of the room to allow any skultking healers to creep in and do their jobs.

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