(121-04-16) Anger and the Thorn
Anger and the Thorn
Summary: In which Laurent is the second angriest person in the garden.
Date: 04/16/2014
Related: None

Set in the Walled Garden of the Garden Isle Manse.

It is a hot, overcast day in Oldtown. Ser Laurent Tyrell is dressed for the weather in light trousers and a billowing silk tunic, unlaced down the front. The edge of a dressing can be seen at the collar of the shirt. He walks through the perfectly groomed garden, stretching his legs and working out the soreness leftover from the trial.

Despite the walk over to the Garden Isle Manse, Sera has yet to cool down from her rage. She is greeted before the door, and when asked she will give them her name and will request an audience with Ser Laurent. Led towards the Walled Garden, Sera's features are pinched in her anger, though they ease up at the sight of such a splendor within the walls of the Garden Isle Manse. She can't help but admire the beautiful garden, momentarily forgetting her reasons for being there. It isn't until she spies the Thorn that she remembers well enough. Pressing her lips into a thin line, Sera begins to make her way towards him in determination. "Well met, Ser Laurent," no tipsy smile on her this time.

"Are we?" Laurent turns at the sound of her voice, and his tone upon seeing the set of her jaw is skeptical. "Welcome to the finest garden in Oldtown," he goes on, his tone sullen as he describes it. "You'll want a glass of wine?" Without waiting for an answer, he lets his voice echo through the open space. "WINE!!!" It's called at a volume, and in a tone, that must send the help scurrying somewhere within the manse.

"Well, I don't know what we are. You may fill it in as you see fit." At his scream, Sera jumps a mile high, her hair standing on end as she stares at the man before her. He just scared the rage out of her, though briefly. "By the seven gods," she mutters, shaking her head to clear them from the ringing. "It is fine indeed and all that pretty talk," she mutters, waving her hand dismissively. "Forgive me, Ser Laurent. You are not one for pleasentries and sweet words and I am in no mood to cater to them either. I shall be brief and blunt with you, then let you get back to…whatever it was you were doing. Admiring nature or whatever." She glances over her shoulder towards the house however, hoping that the wine would get to her faster. "Though wine is always preferred…" She turns back to Laurent before standing straight, shoulders back and her teal eyes fixed on his dark ones. "I wish to speak with you about Lord Garvin and Lord Arion," her lips twitch and her fingers curl inwards to form into fists at her sides.

Laurent's eyes narrow, and he shakes his head, frowning. Her words at the first struck some raw spot, or surprised him, but the frown lessens as she goes on. "They'll bring Arbor red, I expect. They usually do," he says of the wine. But his expression turns darker again at the mention of their cousins. "Wouldn't you know. It's my favorite subject, just now. Please," he waves her to continue speaking, turning as he does to lead her deeper into the garden.

His first expression registers and there is a glitch, a momentary hiccup in her brain as she tries to comprehend it; but, her rage is too great at the moment and Sera could do little else but surge on ahead. Sera follows him, crossing her arms before her, gripping her opposing biceps as she walks. "I, myself, am tired of this subject, and yet day after day I find myself having to deal with it. There are more things I would rather spend my time with than dealing with how they spend their leisure hour." Her eyes scan the foliage, flicking from flowers to trees as she takes them in. "I don't know about your house, Ser Laurent, or if Lord Garvin is viewed as odd or not-…Actually I am kind of surprised the Tyrells don't have more of his…kind. However, we both know that this has no future for them. I have warned my own cousin time and time again. I have requested Lord Abram's help as well but it just seems to fall on deaf ears. I told him of ways to keep his discretion and /STILL/ he sleeps here! Are men really /that/ controlled by their urges?" She asks him in exasperation.

"The short answer, in their case, seems to be 'Yes,' doesn't it?" Laurent shakes his head, his tone sour. "I assure you, Lord Garvin's proclivities are frowned upon within my house. My esteemed house," he reminds her, fairly growling the words. "He might get by with it, were he discreet — this is Highgarden, not Winterfell — but he is not. You're only tasting a morsel, Lady Sera, of what I have feasted on in the months since I arrived in Oldtown. So if you've come seeking advice, I'm sorry to say that I may be the very worst man to give it."

His words just seem to add onto her dismay as Sera drops her hands as well as her head. She shakes her head and her red-fox plaited hair slips forward over her shoulder. "Just as I had thought. No, worse then that." She pauses before lifting her eyes just enough to peer up at him as she asks glumly, "So slapping my cousin in the middle of the Quill and Tankard was not something I should have done? Assuming you have tried that method before yourself." She then adds with a wince, "I also called him Ser Arion the Brave who dares not walk the city streets at night…"

Laurent snorts a laugh at her plight, though his dark eyes aren't entirely unsympathetic. "I've wanted to do that and more, at times," he admits with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "But Lord Garvin is the son of my liege lord, and I love no man better than him — though I confess that at times I should like to throttle him." He slows in his walking so that a servant can catch the pair and pass them each a glass of wine, then the Thorn dismisses the boy with a nod and continues. "Mayhaps Arion can be shamed into discretion. I hardly know the boy." Though their ages are not so very different, Laurent still can't think of Arion as a peer. "Though I confess I'm skeptical. He's open enough with his affection for Garvin here in the manse, even in front of other men."

When she is handed the wine, Sera offers the servant a quick thank you before taking it and downing half of the glass in one gulp. She really needed that. Exhaling softly as she lowers the glass, Sera looks back towards Laurent, quirking her eyebrows as she hears of his and Garvin's relationship. Well, that was unexpected. "You're full of surprises, Ser Laurent," she murmurs thoughtfully before focusing back on the task at hand. "I have tried many things and shame did little else to him, but I need your help in trying for one more trick up my sleeve. If this does not work then-…" she trails off before shrugging. "Would you mind Ser, if you'd so kindly as to ban my cousin Arion from entering the Garden Isle Manse? He is not allowed in, at all. They are welcome to come to Foxearth, the both of them if they wish, but since it is my cousin that seems to be the flighty of the two…"

Laurent watches Sera gulp the wine, silently offering her his glass as well once she has lowered hers, only half in jest. "And I thought myself so dull," he says at her surprise, his tone matching the words. His lips draw into a thin line at her request, and he takes a deep breath. "I should have been glad to, Lady Sera," he admits with a helpless shrug. "But the Garden Isle Manse is not my home to govern. It belongs to Lord Garvin, and I was merely the captain of his guard. Was," he says again, with emphasis. "That glorious and frustrating post now belongs to Ser Jacelyn Flowers, who I'm sure will give his best go at barring your cousin from the grounds. Especially if he's asked by a passably attractive young woman," the Thorn adds with a tilt of his head to regard Sera. "Careful of him, though. Black Jac is a bastard." As though his name weren't warning enough.

When he offers her his wine, Sera actually looks tempted, but she takes another sip from hers instead. Perhaps she shouldn't give him any indication that she is an alcoholic. It won't do to get drunk in front of him twice in a row. When he mentions her being passably attractive, Sera narrows her eyes at him as she glares, "I will have you know I am more than just passably attractive, even with my ears. Do not make a claim you will fail at, Ser Laurent," she returns with a smirk before her anger seethes back. "I have met Ser Jacelyn, he visited our manse a few days ago-…" she trails off with a frown that indicates confusion more than anything, "I am not sure what he wants or expects-…" She stops before shaking her head. "I will ask him then."

"I know what he wants," Laurent claims, his chuckle rough and ready. "You say you don't, but you're the one as claims you're more than passably fair, Lady." His broad mouth twists into a too-wide grin, an ugly expression that vanishes quickly, leaving him looking the better for the frown that comes in its wake. "So smile at Jac, show him a bit of your ankle, and ask him to bar Arion from the manse. It will work well enough, until Garvin gets wind of it. Then… Who knows," he allows with a shrug.

As he points out what it is, Sera flashes him a hard look. "Well he better know he won't get it. He's a bastard!" Need she say more? "That's why I figured it might be something else. If it is what he wants then I will show him my ankle." She lifts up her skirt with one hand, the other still holding her glass, as she tries to expose one of her ankles; well, they're pale and delicate but just ankles. "Enough to make a man's heart give out," she assueres Laurent before lowering the hem of her skirt. "As for passable fairness, I just don't like hearing you lie, Ser Laurent." She smirks lightly, her anger finally easing up a bit as the wine warms her belly. "If this does not work and Lord Garvin insists then I shall have to call in Lord Arion's father." The head of the house.

Through force of will or genuine disinterest, Laurent manages to miss the scandalous show of pale flesh, his dark eyes remaining on Sera's all the while. "No doubt," he says flatly. Flat enough to imply irony, whether he meant it or no. He moves past the teasing quickly though, to shake his head. "I might have one more tack to try myself," he allows with a thoughtful frown. "It might work best alongside your efforst with Jac, to buy me a bit of time. Get that mincing cousin of yours banned, even for a day or two, and I'll talk to my own cousin. We'll see what we might do, yet."

At his lack of interest, Sera lets out another sigh as her shoulders drop. She tried. "And just what is this tack that you have in mind?" Sera returns, her eyebrows quirking upwards curiously. "I will get you your time if Ser Jacelyn would let me."

Laurent shrugs, turning a corner in the well-sculpted garden as he says, "I'll present it to him differently. That he has a chance for happiness, but it will be well and truly ruined if he can not be discreet about it. The two of them think they love each other, don't they? And they two are the biggest threat to that, themselves. If Arion's father were to recall him to Brightwater Keep, or Garvin's to Highgarden…" He trails off, letting the rest of the tale tell itself.

Her lips finally quirk upwards, a much more relaxed expression than the one she had when she first walked in. "I agree," she murmurs, "that is definitely one way. It may appeal to Lord Garvin, though it hasn't worked on my cousin. Still, you shall have your few days to make him understand the situation and I will speak to Ser Jacelyn to ensure that my cousin does not enter Garden Isle Manse." With that Sera places her glass on the stone bench before she fixes her teal eyes back onto Laurent's dark ones. She watches him for a long and quiet moment, bordering on uncomfortable until she breaks her own silence. "Thank you, Ser Laurent. I am in your debt."

Laurent shrugs, as if to say it were no great thing. "If that doesn't work, then I suppose I could surprise him asleep at Garvin's side and beat him until he fears to close his eyes in the manse," he offers. "It might be an easier task than shifting Garvin's thoughts, do you think? Given your cousin's notorious bravery."

A laugh escapes from her in surprise at his words, reminding her of what she had said and done earlier. "At this point you may flay him and you'd still have my blessing, Ser Laurent. But yes, I would love nothing more than for you to scare him until the mere sight of your coat of arms is enough for him to wet his armor." She grins at that as glances towards the main house. "I better head back. Until next time, and hopefully under much sweeter circumstances."

"I'm sure my coat of arms has that effect on many a Florent," Laurent says, with a grin he can't quite supress. A rare flash of good humor, and with it he even steps forward to offer Sera his elbow. "I'll see you out," he suggests, starting that way. "And speak to you again soon. Yes, hopefully with good results."

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