(121-04-12) Betrothed in Sadness
Betrothed in Sadness
Summary: When Daevon does not find Mariya at the Tourney Grounds, he comes to the White Stone Manse
Date: 04/12/2014
Related: In Blood, Truth
Players:
Daevon..Mariya..Embry..

White Stone Manse - Starry Street

It is a summer night. The weather is hot and clear.

This grand manse faces the prestigious Starry Street. The first story is protected by narrow high windows that stop people from seeing inside, but the big windows on the back wall and the four upper stories make the manse bright and airy over all.

The first floor's main hall is brightly lit with lamps to make up for the shortcomings of the street-facing windows. The white walls and polished white marble floors add to the effect, making it seem airy and bright. There's a grand dining room separated from the entry hall by broad doorway. The house is richly decorated and well-appointed, with luxurious furnishings.

Like almost all of the houses in Oldtown, it shares two walls with its neighbors on either side, but the servants quarters, kitchens, and servant's stairs buffer the house proper from any noise that could possibly leak through the thick stone walls. The grand staircase that allows residents and their guests access to the upper stories is of white marble veined with a pleasing yellow-tinged pink.

There's a pleasant walled garden in the back, viewed from the windows in the back wall and accessed through a glass-paneled door.


Daevon comes seeking Mariya at the manse since he couldn't find her in the crowds.

Most of the household is in turmoil. They have most likely been told nothing, but most like seeing the despondent and sobbing Mariya is enough to tell the household that the Trial did not go well. A solemn servant sends Daevon up the stairs and knocks on the door to announce his presence.

It's not Daevon's place to tell them, is it? Not if they don't ask and so he says not a word as he goes up to her room and steps in. He's solemn, sad.

Embry lingered near Mariya. It's her who opened the door for Ser Daevon, and who now stands straighter upon seeing the Maiden's Knight, chin poked ever-so-slightly out, jaw tense, looking protective of the princess. This short smallfolk girl in a colourful dress, protective of a princess in front of a Targaryen knight. "Ser…" she trails off in worry and nods her petite blonde head in respect, but also allowingly, without meaning to seem so. Her look from Daevon to Mariya as she steps aside might as well say 'be careful with her'.

Mariya sits in a chair by the corner of the room. Her legs are pulled up under her dress, face pressed against her knees. Her shoulders clearly shake from her tears. The knock does not budge her, nor does Embry's words. She is too ensconced in her own grief.

Daevon offers a nod of greeting to Embry, an acknowledgement of her silent request. He stands there, looking helpless at Mariya, knowing there's nothing he can say to make things better. And so he just goes to her, offering a gentle hand to her shoulder in order to offer support.

Embry watches the two noble figures from afar, quiet, her eyes exuding sadness. Like Daevon, she feels helpless, wishing there was something— something more— she could do. So the diminutive young woman becomes a guard. She remains standing next to the door with her hands clasped in front of her, her thumb rubbing and tripping over her knuckles.

The hand placed on her shoulder does not cause the woman to start. Under normal circumstances she would be vocal in her thanks for Embry's care and concern. At the moment, though, she is unable to see past her own emotions. Mariya takes a shuddering breath and finally raises her eyes from the fabric of her dress - wet with tears - and looks up at Daevon. The death of Osric is too fresh for her to consider speaking of it. Instead, she merely asks, voice soft and raw, "Did you know?"

"No," Daevon says, just that word as he meets Mariya's gaze with his own amethyst eyes. There's tears there, glistening. Handkerchief. He has one, several in fact, and he offers it to Mariya for all the use it will be.

Mariya nods once, acknowledging his words and accepting them. It would take quite a bit more handkerchiefs than Daevon has to soak up Mariya's sorrow. However, she takes the square of fabric from him, crumpling it as she wipes her eyes. "Thank you," she replies hoarsely, before dissolving into more tears.

With no other words to help, Daevon tries to settle next to Mariya, wrapping his arms around her, offering what little support he can, tears trickling down his cheeks. At the slightest indication that this isn't wanted he'll draw back.

There is no resistance from Mariya, however she also does not seem to respond in any sort of way at first. Perhaps it is Daevon's own tears or something else that breaks her self imposed isolation in her grief, but, abruptly, she reaches to clasp onto him tightly, sobbing on his shoulder.

Heavy with thought, out of her element, Embry briefly leaves her post at the door to fetch a pitcher of wine left by another servant trying to be helpful just earlier. She pours two cups and wordlessly sets them on the stand nearest the clasped prince and princess; whether they want them or not, they are given the option. She returns from whence she came, her head bowed — trying to be quiet as a mouse, but sometimes sniffing. One of the tiny, purple flowers loosens from one of her braids. She catches it before it tumbles, quietly staring down.

Daevon keeps holding Mariya, stroking her back, trying to be that reassuring physical presence. He cries silently, his tears not less felt for doing so, his grief a quiet thing. He offers no platitudes, nothing else, just letting her cry herself into exhaustion.

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