(121-04-09) On The Way To The Foxes Den
On The Way To The Foxes Den
Summary: Abram escorts Arion from the Garden Isle.
Date: 10-04-2014
Related: Happens after the two Florents leave Garden Isle in As The Rose Turns - Part 2
Players:
Abram..Arion..

The pair of Florents emerge onto Sphinx Street, where Abram turns his unhurried steps to the right, drawing a long slow breath of the evening air. "When I first came to Oldtown, I recall the air smelling wretched. It smells better now, I wonder if it's a better wind, or whether I've grown accustomed to it. Hmm," he muses aloud.

Arion steps onto the street from the Garden Isle with a blissful smile upon his face. He puases his steps and lets out a soft sigh but then Abram speaks and he frowns watching the knight. He glances back at the manse he just left and that smile returns for a moment. "He loves me…" Its said softly in such a low tone it might not be easily heard but the happiness in it is plain to hear.

Abram cracks a crooked grin at the blissful declaration. "So I hear. Enough to declare it before half his household, no less." A slow exhale and he adds, "Come along, and tell me why you were so angry with me, just now. I gather it was something I said?" the knight hazards a knowing guess.

Arion looks to Abram his eyes hardening and he seems to consider something. Finally he sighs and shakes his head his eyes showing stubborn defiance as they look at his cousin. "I said I would not stay with Garvin but I made no mention of where I would stay. I will still be your squire as I said I would and I will not go back on my word despite my current anger at you." He narrows his eyes and dares the knight to argue with him planting his feet firmly and crossing his arms over his chest.

"What did I do?" Abram asks with a near laugh. The knight regards his young cousin and adds after a rueful smile, "If you are to be my squire, then you must learn use of arms, you must learn care of my horses and armor. In short, cousin, you must reside with me. You also ought to obey your knight, but we can work towards that one. Besides, it would be a waste of coin to reside elsewhere, and seeing as how you aren't carrying and belongings, I imagine your coin isn't unlimited. Besides," Abram concludes, "It would break little Sera's heart if you don't come greet her."

Arion scowls but there is a calulating look in his eyes along with the anger now. Finally he steps forward to stand in front of Abram his arms still crossed over his chest as he glares. "Firstly you proved my growing point that my family is a bunch of controlling and selfish bastards. Secondly you made me leave the one thing I want more than anything behind. What are you my father?! You are certainly acting just as controlling and selfish oh and lets not forget the way you spoke to Garvin! You were very rude to us both. If I want something I will have it and the Tyrell is mine." He takes a deep breath and continues glaring defiantly. There is a reason he is called the Brat of House Florent but this has to be a first as he is defending another and not his own actions.

"If you'd stop yelling at your father for a moment and speak to your cousin, you'll see I did nothing of the sort," Abram grins back at his shorter squire. "In fact this two-day old dearly beloved of yours took no insult, and agreed with me at all points, so really in yelling at me, you're dismissing Garvin's opinion which is very rude of you. For shame," he scolds, merrily. "I haven't forbidden you to see him, or go anywhere. I still don't see why you're so cross with me."

Arion seems to deflate at the mention of dismissing Garvin's opinion. All his anger seems to leave him and he blinks. "I…I would never wish to dismiss Garvin's opinion….you are right cousin. I must consider what he wants as well. I am…sorry." He sighs and looks down at the ground. "I will stay with you and Sera but I want your word as well as hers that neither of you nor anyone you command will try to stop me from seeing Garvin. You may not think it is truly love but I have never felt so strongly for anyone in my entire life and I will not have this happiness sabatoged by my own blood…are we clear?" His eyes blaze and its clear this is something he will not bend on.

"I say it again, cousin: I haven't forbidden you to see Lord Pansy, and I won't in the future. I don't think it is love, but I've made enough youthful follies in my days that I'll not deny you the same chance. Now come along, lets go and see Sera, she will be overjoyed." Cheerfully, he notes, "I bedded a Tyrell girl, once. Her brother later tried to get me killed on Dorne, so.. better luck to you, cous."

"Very well." Arion nods his head curtly and moves to follow beside Abram as they make they thier way down the road. He glances to Abram and raises a brow but makes no comment on that story. He does glance back towards the Garden Isle a moment and his spirits seems to lighten a bit as he does so. With that final glance he turns his attention to the path they walk letting Abram lead him to where he will be staying now.

"So, have you had any practice at swordplay or riding?" Abram asks of his new squire, "Because you know what is excellent practice for horsemanship? Hunting," he reveals with a broad smile.

"I've had lessons yes…I would say I'm a better rider than a fighter but my skill with a blade is better than when I try to use a bow. I suppose you shall wish to test my skills then?" Arion asks looking to Abram with a slightly curious gaze.

"Not before the Trial," Abram laughs at testing his cousin. "Last thing I need is to walk onto the field in front of Targaryens, Martells, Hightowers, and Tyrells- not to mention the Seven themselves- with a limp." A fresh grin creases the knight's battered face, as he asides, "Word of advice though: study at axe and mace as well. Swordplay is pretty for the tournament fields, but if ever you really need to kill a man, use an axe." The advice is given in the same upbeat manner he has maintained throughout.

"I doubt I could give you a limp…you would likely beat me to a plump first." Arion replies with a slight frown. He nods at the advice and continues to walk looking thoughtful. "There is a chance you could lose you know cousin…this trial is a dangerous thing." His frown deepens and he looks to Adam with a intense gaze. "Does this not concern you or do you think you cannot lose?"

"Lord Arnau Blackmont is arriving with seven of the finest champions Dorne, cousin," Abram answers. "Not only is it possible, I should even say it is likely. In fact," he adds with a sidelong smirk to Arion, "If you'd tried to back out if holding the banner, I was going to use coming to watch me die as the lure. Don't tell Sera I said that," he adds with a pointed look.

Arion frowns heavily. "I may not be on the best of terms with you cousin..but I have no real wish to see you killed nor get your blood all over my clothing." His nose wrinkles at the thought though its hard to tell if he is more worried about Abram or his fine clothing.

Abram barks out a sharp laugh at Arion's words. "Well then know that even if we're defeated, there is a good chance I'll be imprisoned in Castle Blackmont for a few years until a ransom can be managed. In which case, you would be free to stay here, don't worry." A small shrug and fresh smile. "But what would you prefer I do? Mope about like Ser Laurent, or drown in my cups like Ser Viggo? I plan to live, but whatever the outcome, I'll face the Trial with satisfaction, having played my hand as strong as I could."

Arion nods slowly. "I suppose you should do whatever you think is best for you…after all you are the one who must live with the choice you have made..if you live that is and I hope you do live. It will be incrediblly hard to find another knight to teach me…well I suppose there is always that Targaryen knight." He shrugs his shoulders.

Abram winks aside at Arion, "I wasn't speaking of the Trial, cousin." A silent chuckle stirs his throat. "Believe it or not, Arion, it is fully possible to do as you please without angering your kin. Well, not overmuch, that is." Mention of a Targaryen knight earns a curious glance. "Which Targaryen is this?"

Arion looks thoughtful but the question cuases him to look to Abram and answer. "Ser Daevon…he seemed interested in taking me on as his squire. Though I'm not certain if that would be a good thing or not really." The thoughtful look returns once more.

Abram laughs merrily under his breath. "Ah, the Maiden's Knight. He could teach you how to look very pretty, I'm sure. Some very flashy twirls of the blade, and a healthy love of minstrel songs, no doubt." A mimed twirl of one hand to illustrate a bit of swordplay. Another easy smile and small chuckle accompany a shake of his head.

"I didn't say I would prefer him cousin and I already look quite dashing and handsome so I doubt there is much he could teach me there…" Arion brushs a strand of hair behind his ear and smirks at Abram.

Abram gives another sharp laugh. "Clearly you must learn humility, cousin. If you find a knight who can teach that, do notify me, as I share the trait." He smiles back at the younger man, noting, "First lesson: ladies love a dashing scar, and I imagine your Pansy is much the same. No hurry, but something to keep in mind."

"A scar?! Surely you jest? Those are…not dashing at all." Arion looks shocked and a little appauled at the very thought of getting a scar. He frowns and glares half heartedly at Abram. "You are joking with me again…"

Abram shakes his head, assuring, "I am quite earnest, Arion. It's quite true: a scar is proof of bloodshed, a mark that you came to violence with another, and that you were strong enough to survive. I tell you true, cous, there is no drink nor drug in all the world that is half so intoxicating as the scent of danger."

Arion thinks this over and shakes his head slowly disbelief in his eyes. "Perhaps this is so..but I think I'm more handsome without scars. I may get one at some point but it won't be by choice…though if Garvin would like it perhaps it would be worth it in the end…." He smiles blissfully his eyes getting a far away look in them. "You may not think its love cousin but I am fairly certain you are wrong and I will take great pleasure in proving this."

"You don't exactly get to choose your scars, Arion-" the knight claims with visible amusement, "The fellow trying to kill you has a significant say in the matter, but when you do win a real scar, I promise you that your sweetheart will be all aflutter." He pauses, musing aloud. "Or do only ladies flutter? The Pansy seems like he would flutter."

Arions eyes turn sharp and he levels a glare at Abram. "You will not disrespect Garvin in my presence. If you wish to talk about him behind his back do so where I cannot hear it." His jaw is clenched and his hands are clenched in anger. He takes a deep breath and his hands unclench but his glare remains in place.

Abram tilts his head to a bemused angle. "Not only would I say as much to his face, but do you truly think Garvin Tyrell would disagree? Truly?"

Arion glares some more. "If Lord Garvin wishes to say such things about himself he may. If he agrees that is his business. But just becuase you think something is true does not mean it should be said aloud especaily not when you say it behind his back."

"Whatever faults Garvin Tyrell has, I will grant the the man has an uncommon awareness of who and what he is. If you claim to love him, sooner or later you'll need to be aware of the same. But then again," he allows, "I ought to allow you at least a week of over peotectiveness."

Arion frowns his brow furrowing in thought. He remains silent and appears to be thinking things over as they walks the rest of the way to the manse where the Florents will be residing now.

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