(121-04-11) The Dragon in the Tower
The Dragon in the Tower
Summary: In which Aevander and Elionys share some news with Rhaenys, and she shares some news with them.
Date: April 11, 2014
Related: The Queen That Never Was
Players:
Aevander..Elionys..

Rhaenys Targaryen was NPCed by the fabulous Abram!

Council Chamber - Battle Island

This imposing room contains a single large seven-sided table, enormous and heavy. It must have been built within the room, for it is too large to pass through even these big double doors. On its surface stand a number of large candelabra. The chairs are large, padded, and comfortable — clearly long hours might be passed in this room.

The white stone walls are decorated with banners featuring the sigil of House Hightower. Sconces for oil lamps hang between them. Near the entry there is a tall cupboard with a locking door, where records and extra candles are kept.

The aged princess, nearing her fiftieth year, has entrenched herself in the Hightower's conference room. Not tied to the luxuries of court, the formidable Rhaenys sits at the great stone table in a full panoply of armor, all shining steel and bright brass. Courtiers come and go from the chamber, as do nobles.

It is alongside Aevander that Elionys moves, through the impressive tower and into the conference room to meet the rather more impressive Targaryen. The younger woman is dressed in a gown with long sleeves, and a moderately high collar, the sort that would be more suited for the cooler months, but she doesn't appear to be bothered by the warmth, or if nothing else, too distracted to care. It's a moment of hesitation just beyond the doors, and then she turns to move towards that large table, glacing up at Aevander with a bright smile along the way.

Aevander walks in with his cousin after they are announced, offering Rhaenys a bow. "Princess Rhaenys," he greets, "I hope the Hightowers are making you welcome?" His gaze flicks over the older Targaryen's armor, but if he has a thought about the choice to wear it indoors, at a table, he keeps it to himself.

Rhaenya is mid breath when her kinfolk enter. "I will see the serjeants of the field at dawn, be certain they know who awaits them. Go now." A motion of dismissal to the page, who bows and hurries from the chamber as Aevander speaks. The 'Queen That Never Was' looks from the young man to the young lady and back. "They are." The writing quill is set down on the table beside one artfully wrought gauntlet. "This one has the look of my kin, though I know you not by sight. What is your name?" she asks of Elionys.

When Aevander bows, Elionys dips into a well practiced curtsy, head bowing with respect. When she rises, her gaze does as well, looking at Rhaenys with a smile. "Elionys Targaryen," she answers, taking half a step forward, towards the table and the princess seated at it.

Aevander is quiet so that Elionys might introduce herself before he adds, "A cousin of my immediate family," in case that helps Rhaenys any with figuring out how she and Elionys be related. Possibly not. "We thought to visit you and discuss whatever you might wish before tomorrow, unless we've arrived an a poor time?" He glances towards the door and the page that departed out of it a few moments prior.

Aevander is quiet so that Elionys might introduce herself before he adds, "A cousin of my immediate family," in case that helps Rhaenys any with figuring out how she and Elionys be related. Possibly not. "We thought to visit you and discuss whatever you might wish before tomorrow, unless we've arrived an a poor time?" He glances towards the door and the page that departed out of it a few moments prior.

"Elionys," the elder Targaryen echoes, her stern countenance bending faintly toward a smile. "When last we met you were taken so ill that a draft might carry you off. You've grown stronger, child," she notes, composure settling again toward steely. "Good. Sit, both of you, if you've a mind to." Aevander's inquiry is met with a shake of the head. "The time is meet. Both Accusers and Accused discuss the strictures of the lists, but nothing out of the ordinary."
Huh? (Type "help" for help.)

Where usually any mention of her illness is enough to make Elionys uncomfortable, or even surly, in this instance the younger Targaryen's face lights up into a brighter smile. "Yes, I remember your visit well." Though clearly, she wasn't sure whether or not Rhaenys would. "I have grown stronger, and continue to do so every day." At the offer of a chair, she steps forward at once to claim a seat at the table, hands folding in her lap.

Aevander takes one as well, setting himself down beside Elionys and glancing over at her to smile softly. "That sounds good, then, if no one is yet shouting at the other."

"Of course they're shouting," Rhaenys sniffs. "The men are preparing to kill each other, and each suspects the others will poison their blades. But, the entire tradition of mediation through third parties is designed to keep them from each other's throats until the appointed hour."

"Given what I've heard from both sides, I don't imagine the shouting is going to stop between, even after the trial," Elionys remarks as she looks bwetween Rhaenys. "Though I would prefer shouting to what has been happening."

"That is the concern," Aevander agrees, "that Oldtown will blame the Dornish, regardless. But your presence should help, highness, and the Septon's. The Hightowers seem, for the most part, eager enough to maintain the peace for all some of the Tyrells… well. Some of the roses are less impartial."

"Indeed," the regal Rhaenys assents to Elionys' preferences. Aevander's words are met with a short nod. "Highgarden supports the King's peace, with the Hightowers' support I worry little over an errant malcontent, once the Trial is done. Should I reconsider this?"

"I don't know if it should be reconsidered," Elionys remarks with a glance at Aevander. "I think those from Highgarden will honor the outcome of the trial, whether it is in their favor or that or Dorne."

"I think in word they shall," Aevander replies, "in deed…" he considers before speaking further. "I do not think anything the Tyrells of Oldtown can do would disrupt the King's peace overall, but Oldtown is close enough to the Dornish border, and it is the Tyrells that are the lords of the Reach. I expect they could make Oldtown dissentious if they had a mind to. Already, our house and that of the roses have clashed at several points, and those Tyrells who speak most loudly question our judgement and display a general lack of respect."

"Give me an example," Rhaenys prompts, sitting back in her chair and steepling fingers. "How have the Tyrells disrespected our name?"

Elionys' lips part at the question, though she doesn't offer up any examples, or any sort of answer, if she has one, instead defering that to Aevander.

"Garvin Tyrell shows a lack of respect of most things, but most recently, he called Visenya over to insult her and then accused her of breaking their engagement when she protested his crass behavior and general lack of propriety," Aevander offers. "He continues to insist she broke with him and that his father must demand recompense for the insult from our house. Ser Laurent has accused our house of siding with the Dornish over our own vassals to me and among his own, though not publicly, I will grant. And there is the matter, of course, of his riding on this attack of the Red Rookery, despite a direct order from the king to do no such thing." He looks over to Elionys, brows lifted to see if there is anything further she would add.

"Garvin Tyrell shows a lack of respect of most things, but most recently, he called Visenya over to insult her and then accused her of breaking their engagement when she protested his crass behavior and general lack of propriety," Aevander offers. "He continues to insist she broke with him and that his father must demand recompense for the insult from our house. Ser Laurent has accused our house of siding with the Dornish over our own vassals to me and among his own, though not publicly, I will grant. And there is the matter, of course, of his riding on this attack of the Red Rookery, despite a direct order from the king to do no such thing." He looks over to Elionys, brows lifted to see if there is anything further she would add.

"You were present for the insults given by this Tyrell catamite?" Rhaenys asks with one iron-grey brow raised. "As for the rest, put plainly we do care more about peace with Dorne than the lives of any dozen border lords. This business of the Red Rookery will be determined in Trial on the morrow, I see no need for us to become involved barring any new crimes. Young men are rash and hasty by nature, if we punished every knight who raided without permission, our borders would shortly be emptied of knights."

"I do not dispute Lord Garvin's odd nature," Elionys begins, tentative as she looks between the two at the table with her. "But to place all the blame for their troubles seems highly unfair, given Visenya's nature. Not to say he isn't to blame as well, but— well," she motions to Rhaenys. "We were not present to witness that conversation." She draws a breath and sits back in her chair, hands folding in her lap. "I also don't know if we should view the raid as a slight to our house, precisely. Or if they were, at least some good thing did come from it in that it seems to have calmed the city from breaking out into riots. The border raids will probably go on, regardless of the trial, but not having the city burn itself down in the process is a good thing."

Aevander tips his chin in a small nod for Elionys's words. "I was not present, but I do know Visenya well. She can be challenging, but she is not a liar. I am inclined to believe the story as it was told to me. But if you feel the Tyrells need no reprimand, Highness, I will not contest your decision. As I said, they have, at least, kept their discontent mostly out of public view."

"You forget, child," Rhaenys corrects Elionys with a sardonic note to her words, "If these Errants prevail in Trial, then in the eyes of the law, they did not commit the raid. Isn't justice such a marvelously ephemeral thing?" The question is not posed fondly. The elder Lady is left with a sour look on her face as she answers Aevander. "Then they are not utter fools. But as you are her brother perhaps you can correct what I have heard of her. I have heard that the Lady misrepresented her own death- which of itself could lawfully be called a break of her betrothal- she brought a wild Dragon over the oldest city in Westeros without the power of will to control it, and she has written letters to the King asking to be made regent of Oldtown, with a Targaryen army to be given to Daevon for her support." A one beat pause. "I await correction."

"Of course," Elionys inclindes her head to Rhaenys, smiling faintly. "I do not mean to refer to their guilt or innocence in the matter," though she makes no effort to further explain herself on the matter. Instead she shifts her gaze to Aevander again, lips pursing slightly as she listens for his answer.

"I do not believe Visenya intended us to think her dead, though our father did draw that conclusion. Briefly. And as I was witness to the event with the dragon, I can assure you that Visenya did not direct the beast there, but her presence on its back did keep it from attacking men or livestock when it arrived." The last accusation, however, causes Aevander to blink slowly and in mild surprise. "As for that last… I have heard nothing of it and cannot speak for or against that action. When were these letters dated?"

"One week ago, my young kinsman," Rhaenys states coldly. "To command respect needs more than a name, my young lord and lady. Were Visenya my daughter, her treatment after this would be quite harsh indeed. To the relief of all parties, no doubt, she is not my concern; save that her.. suspect judgment does not threaten the peace following the Trial." She leans forward slightly, a steel vambrace scraping upon the stone table's edge to emphasize, "Control your sister, Aevander. I swear, any who grasp above their place will have their reach clipped. No matter their name."

Elionys' eyes widen sligtly at Rhaenys' answer, looking around to Aevander. "That explains what Visenya meant," she says quietly. "When she said that you would not be in charge much longer. She must have believed that her request would be fulfilled and she would be made regent, so you would no longer have any say over her." She shakes her head slightly, but anything further thoughts on the matter are withheld at the present.

Aevander sucks in a slow breath through his nose, both for the date of the letters and for his chastisement. His jaw clenches beneath his scruffy peach-fuzz beard but he only offers a small nod for the advice and the warning. He offers no response to Elionys's musing, save one hand discreetly tightening into a fist.

"If the Tyrells overstep themselves, they will be reminded that nothing but their obedience to our family placed them atop the Reach, but petty squabbles ought to be beneath the blood of dragons," Rhaenys states with a royal air. "If there is anything further you require of me, speak it now. Else, I suspect we both have other matters that bear our attention."

Aevander is silent a beat longer, glancing towards Elionys and then back to The Queen That Never Was. "Maelys, my uncle, intends to fight for the Dornish on the morrow. I am not sure if this is a decision worthy of our concern, or if he should be left to conduct himself as he wishes in this matter."

Elionys sits up just a little straighter, glancing at Aevander before her gaze moves to Rhaenys. "If you find you have the time, I would like a private word with you. If not now, then before you leave Oldtown? It's a matter unrelated to the trial, so it can wait until afterward, if need be." She doesn't add to the matter of their Uncle joining the Dornish for the fight, though she does at least nod to confirm it.

Rhaenys' countenance flinched at the report of Maelys' intentions. "I see." She draws another slow breath through the nose. "That one was named all too well," she comments under her breath. "Thanks to you for this news, Aevander." A short nod to Elionys. "Before I leave, child. For now, that will be all."

"Until tomorrow, then, princess," Aevander replies, dipping his head in a nod before easing back and standing. He moves to the door, though he waits for Elionys to join him before stepping through.

At the answer, Elionys bows her head to Rhaenys, smiling a little at the older Targaryen before she rises. "Thank you for your time, Princess." There is no shortage of admiration for the elder still seated at the table, gaze lingering a few beats more before she steps around the chair and turns to follow Aevander to the door, and then through it.

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