(121-04-16) Dancing on the Edge
Dancing on the Edge
Summary: After the play a bard visits Garden Isle to seek work. Beautiful music is made, a Storm tries to woo a Direwolf and Arion and Garvin continue to dance to the beat of their own lute.
Date: 16-04-2014
Related: Happens after The Bear and the Maiden Fair

Carolis takes a place opposite Garvin at the table. "I thought he did well," he says. He watches Loryn approach, his head tilted curiously. He doesn't say anything, though, he merely nudges an empty goblet toward the flagon purely by happenstance. If wine ends up in it, he can hardly be blamed.

Johanna falls quiet, merely watching and listening to the interaction of others, rather than participating herself. The movement of another person in the door draws her gaze, brows furrowing slightly as she watches the unfamilar arrival.

A page hurries forward to fill the goblet for Carolis, then scampers back again, doing his best to be unobtrusive, yet ever at hand.

Another page greets Bryce at the door, asking his name and business, then leading him to the great hall to announce, "Bryce Storm for Lord Garvin, if it please." But Garvin is currently distracted, having caught sight of his younger cousin. "Loryn? Is it you?" He leaps from his chair and dives at the poor lad, grabbing him in a tight embrace. "It is you! What're you doing in Oldtown? Have you been knighted?" He finally releases Loryn, taking a step back to look him up and down. "I don't see any golden spurs…."

Bryce steps silently and gracefully into the hall his warm brown gaze wandering over those here. He is dressed in black and purple finery and in one of his hands he holds his lute. His dark eyes seek out Lord Garvin and he waits with the patience of one who is quite used to waiting. His expression is somewhat amused but still very composed. He stands near the door waiting to be noticed.

Arion makes a late apparance casting Bryce a curious look as he strides in heading straight for Garvin and the nearest page with a glass of something alcoholic. The young Florent seems a bit stressed over something and makes his way close to Garvin biting on his lower lip and looking quite the nervous wreck.

Carolis takes up the goblet. Lo, wine appears as if by magic. He takes a small drink, and he watches the next newcomer as he waits. Then his attention shifts to Arion. "Lord Arion," he says, rather subdued, "You were magnificent tonight."

"Loryn?" Laurent's words echo Garvin's, if not his tone. The Thorn stands as well, if a touch stiffly, and his dark eyes narrow as he considers the smaller man. "The Father's swinging cod, Boy, but it's you." His tone is rough, perhaps, but not without a certain fondness. Laurent is ever glad to see family, even if they're not always like-minded where he is concerned. "My youngest brother," he clarifies, for anyone listening — though it's Johanna he looks to. Then, "I'll be damned." He's bemused by Loryn's appearance, more than gladdened, but comes around the table to moved toward the younger man nonetheless.

Loryn does not mind to be hugged! In fact he hugs right back, relieved at the warm welcome. "Cousin, it's good to see you.", he greets Garvin with a smile, "I came just in time to see part of your play tonight. It was truly excellent! I -" Ugh, there comes the question he had feared. He wins some time to step out of Garvin's embrace and approach Laurent instead, extending his arms a little to perhaps expect another hug but not yet making a move. "I… uh, I gave up squiring. I've had enough of it. I heard about your theatre and thought I'd ask you for a job. I'd like to act. I'm sure I can do a handsome dashing young hero.", the younger Tyrell explains optimistically to Garvin.

Novak sits back in his chair and observes the actions, he lightly bites his knuckle.. he's moved if anything.

"Is that so?" asks Johanna, and for some reason this makes her laugh as she looks up at Laurent. She braces both hands against the edge of the table and gets to her feet, gaze landing on Bryce for a curious moment. The news from Loryn, though it isn't relayed to her, draws her gaze back to the younger Tyrell. "Forgive me for leaving when so many have only just arrived, but I should—" she gestures at the stairs, then turns to make her way in that direction.

Garvin beams sunshine at Loryn, but when he spies Arion's arrival, he goes supernova, rushing to grab the young man in an even tighter hug, kissing him full on the lips. So there's family and a few guests here, so what? Garvin is just too excited this evening, and all the wine he's had after the play, both at the playhouse and on the way home, have left him with few inhibitions. The kiss isn't a friendly peck, but it falls just short of actual snogging, and he finally releases his grip and steps back. "You were so wonderful tonight!" he insists. "You see? All your fears were for nothing. You did just great. Come, meet my cousin!" As he's about to start the formal introductions, he finally notices the stranger, and somewhere in his brain, a little scribe reminds him of the page's earlier announcement. "Oh!" He says, stepping over to Bryce. "I am Lord Garvin Tyrell, and it's a pleasure to meet you…Bryce Storm? Not the Bryce Storm." He squints a bit, then grins brightly. "Why, it is you! I saw you last year in Highgarden. The Fatal Kiss, I think was the play? I barely recognise you without the wig. Welcome! Welcome to Garden Isle. Let me introduce you to everyone." He turns then and begins waving at each person. "My cousins, Ser Laurent and Lorys Tyrell, Lady Johanna Oakheart, Lord Arion of House Florent, who you saw playing the Lion Knight tonight, Lord Carolis of House Stark, and Novak the scribe. Everyone, it is my pleasure to present Bryce Storm, bard and actor extraordinare!"

Bryce remains silent watching the goings on with amused eyes. The kiss between Garvin and Arion draws his gaze and a dark brow lifts curiousity flashing in those brown eyes along with a hint of something….else. When he is noticed and approached he offers Garvin a winning smile and drops into a bow that is equal parts elegant and dramatic. Once the introductions are made he speaks to his host with a charming smile. "I quite flattered you remember me Lord Garvin. I have been travelling for some time now and I've decided to find a more permenate place of residence…at least for the time being anyway. Would you happen to be in need of another skilled entertainer?"

Arion brightens at the words from Carolis and offers the man a warm yet shy smile. "Thank you Lord Carolis I was terrifed I messed up and I'm glad my worries were for naught." And then Garvin is on him and he wraps his arms around the Tyrell kissing him eagerly. He blushes when Garvin breaks away from him and watches those pale green eyes lingering on Garvin hungrily as he goes to greet the unexpected guest.

"The Crone's dusty gash," Laurent swears savagely, his cheeks sudden red once again with ire. He draws himself up, posture stiff, his right hand clenched into a fist as his left reaches to snatch his wine glass off the table, spilling a bit and causing him to wince in the process. "I suddenly find I need to lie down. Loryn, I am glad you're here, and safe, brother." His baritone voice is rough, and cuts through the chatter, heedless of his volume. "I believe my old suite on the second floor stands empty, I'm sure a servant can show you to it, when you are ready to retire. Cousin, I would speak to you when you have time," he adds, with a dark look to Garvin. "Tomorrow, mayhaps. And to the rest of you, a good night." And with that, the Thorn turns on his heel to head for the stairs.

Loryn looks a little worried when Laurent starts swearing - not sure if the ire was directed at him, since he knew his brother would not approve of his decision to give up squiring and become a knight. But then the older Tyrell offers nice words and a bed to sleep in, so he smiles again. "Thank you, brother. And rest well, we shall talk more on the morrow." He nods a goodbye to Laurent, then as Garvin does the introductions, bows to Johanna and Carolis as well. "Mylady. Mylord." But it is the new arrival that catches his attention and he stares at Bryce with unadulterated glee. "NO! Bryce Storm! I've seen you!", the young Tyrell turns fanboi, "You made me want to give up squiring and take up acting!"

Carolis rises as Lady Johanna makes to leave, and he offers her a small bow. "Lady Johanna, I hope you have a good evening. Ser Laurent, you as well." He then inclines his head to Bryce. "A pleasure to meet you, Bryce Storm." The Northerner retakes his seat and his brow knits as he takes another drink from his goblet. Whatever's on his mind, he keeps his own council and watches the interplay between people at the table.

Garvin gives his eyes a roll at Laurent's ire, well used to it by now. "Don't fret, Cousin," he tells Loryn, as he makes his way back to his place at the table, waving a hand to another chair for Bryce. "He'll come around. You surprised him, is all. Please, let's all sit and have something to drink. Bryce, I'm really happy you're here in Oldtown! I'd be so honored to have you join my little troupe, Lord Pansy's Players. You must come to the Whimsy tomorrow, so we can discuss it! But for now, I'd love to hear how you convinced Loryn to take up mummery. That sounds like a wonderful tale!" He looks with affection and longing toward Arion, hoping the man will sit beside him, as he takes up his wine goblet again. The page hurries to fill goblets for everyone else as well.

Arion looks to Garvin with that same affection and longing and quickly takes the seat next to the Tyrell. A hand brush Garvin's leg as he settles into his chair and then he accepts a goblet of wine and takes a long and slow sip from it. He looks to Bryce with curiousity and then asks Garvin. "You have seen him perform then?" He looks back to Bryce tilting his head as he studies him a long moment. "I think I would like to see his skill for myself." There is a hint of mischief in that tone as well as a challenge as the Florent looks back to Garvin and smirks.

Novak quietly slips out while the nobles fawn over Bryce, a page showing him out.

Bryce nods to Garvin his expression grateful. "I would be honored Lord Garvin. I will be there tomorrow then." He goes to settle in a chair but Arion's words give him puase. "Careful Lord Arion I might take those words as a challenge…perhaps the lords would enjoy a bit of music? I don't think Lord Garvin has seen my skill with the lute yet?" He smirks and lifts his instrument waiting for the okay to be given first.

"Have you ever performed in the North?" Carolis asks Bryce. He darts a glance between Arion and Garvin, but nothing more. He didn't see anything, not at all. "I wouldn't mind seeing this much lauded skill either." He leans back, goblet in hand, and he watches.

Since his brother has left, Loryn goes to take Laurent's seat and peeks into the wine cup, only to find it empty. "There is no tale, cousin.", he tells Garvin a little sheepishly, "I just saw him perform, is all. It seemed a much more pleasant occupation than being knee-deep in the mud, cleaning up after a knight in pouring rain. I trust, I can expect a place in your troupe as well, cousin? Or do you need me to audition for you? I'm not that bad a singer either.", the young Tyrell tries to sell himself. But once his wine cup is filled, he is glad to just sit back and let Bryce take center stage.

Garvin gulps more wine, as the page brings a fresh goblet for Loryn — when Lord Pansy pays, everyone drinks, even not-squires. "Oh yes, I would love to hear you sing!" he says cheerfully, scooting his chair just a bit closer to Arion's. Then he turns surprised eyes on Loryn. "You sing as well? You must sing for us! Yes, you must both sing for us, that would be delightful. Maybe I'll…Where's my harp?" The poor page lets out a sigh, then runs off, disappearing into the tower stairway.

Arion smiles at Bryce. "I would enjoy that I think." He looks to Garvin and his eyes widen in surprise. "You play the harp Garvin?" He looks delighted by this. "Yes lets have music and a song!" He sips his wine and shifts closer to Garvin looking about expectantly clearly eager to see the skills of Bryce and Loryn. Garvin gets an excited look and a warm affection smile as the Florent's hand rests lightly on his thigh.

<FS3> Bryce rolls Music: Great Success.
<FS3> Garvin rolls Music: Good Success.
<FS3> Garvin rolls Singing: Success.
<FS3> Loryn rolls Music: Good Success.

With a charming smile to his audience Bryce lifts his lute and runs his hand along it like a lovers caress. Slowly he begins to play a slow building melody. It starts slow but soon it turns into a jaunty tune that would have even the most boring of men wanting to dance. The bard smirks and picks the pace of the tune up even further playing with the skill of a true expert while his dark gaze drifts to each person watching locking eyes with everyone for a breif minute.

Loryn shakes his head at Garvin. "Not tonight, cousin, please. I've journeyed a long way and I'm tired. My lute is somewhere in my baggage outside. I will perform for you tomorrow when I'm rested. Besides, I couldn't hope to match Storm's skills…" He falls silent to sip some wine as Bryce starts to play, smiling when he recognizes the tune. And tired he may be, but not too tired to soon sing along, proving that indeed, he is a fairly decent singer.

Carolis watches the gathering of instruments and the men preparing their performance. He merely remains quiet, lips curled into a smile around another sparing drink of wine. No big drinker, Lord Carolis. There, the goblet remains poised and the smile fades as he listens, watches. The normally composed and affable young Stark stares, and though the goblet hides most of his countenance, those blue-grey eyes look stricken, almost pained, but also enthralled.

Garvin pushes his chair back from the table as the page returns with his goldenwood harp. Grinning, he tests the silver strings for a bit, listening to Bryce play until he's picked up the tune. Then he begins strumming along, his knee bouncing in time to the beat. He casts a look toward Arion, one that says he'd much rather be dancing with the squire, but even Lord Pansy isn't bold enough to do something like that.

<FS3> Arion rolls Dancing: Good Success.

Arion cannot simply sit by with such beautiful music and whether Garvin is willing to join him or not he rises gracefully sitting his goblet aside and begins to dance along to the music. His movements are graceful as he dances around the room circling Bryce and then dancing over to Garvin with a teasing smile. Is he trying to break the Tyrell's control? Maybe he is.

The tune plays on and Bryce grins merrily when Arion gets up to dance. He smirks at the young blond lord as he circles around and gives him a knowing look glancing to Garvin and continuing to play the song to its conclusion. He locks eyes with Carolis seeing that enthralled look. He keeps eye contact with the Stark as the song ends and his smile soft and warm as the final notes ring out. As the music ends he takes a bow.

As the tune ends, Loryn falls silent too, though he does lean over to Garvin with a little smirk. "Let me take that harp from you, cousin, so you can go dance. I think I may be able to keep up with Storm, if he plays a none too complicated tune."

Carolis meets Bryce's gaze for awhile. Well into the song, at the very least, but then he glances aside, and a small touch of pink colors his pale cheeks. It's hard to hide; he's got that oh so white Northerner complexion. He shakes his head, grinning to himself, and when the song concludes, he sets down his goblet to clap. His composure comes back to him with a laugh as he says, "That was brilliant." Never mind how he was just glued to his seat and staring a second ago.

Garvin's eyes light up as he watches Arion dance, his face coloring. When Lorys offers to take his harp, Garvin gladly hands it over, standing and moving toward the young Florent. "Yes, another! That was marvelous, Bryce. Would you honor us with another?" He turns to Arion then and offers a dramatic bow, as though he's planning to actually dance with the man. A man! Two men, dancing together! When did Garden Isle become transported to the hedonistic land of Dorne?

Arion finishes his dance with the music and turns just in time to see Garvin getting up to join him. He beams happily at Garvin and offers a bow to the Tyrell as well not taking his eyes off the other man as he waits for the music to start up again. His pale green gaze meets Garvin's brown and if affectionate looks could melt all the ice in the north that would be the one to do it. Slowly he steps toward Garvin waiting to see what tune Bryce will play for them.

<FS3> Bryce rolls Music: Good Success.

Bryce eyes the blushing Lord Carolis a long moment and his smile is warm. He nod abesently to Garvin and strikes up another tune on his lute. This one is softer gentle and sweet, a gentle song about love and he begins to sing the words to it in a gentle tone that matches the music perfectly. His eyes stay locked on the Stark long as he plays and sings the tune gaining pace slower than his last one.

Loryn picks up the tune on Garvin's harp and manages to follow along, though he can't resist rolling his eyes a little when Bryce so obviously starts wooing the Northron knight. Talk about being the fifth wheel. Yet, he keeps playing for now, waiting for a chance to excuse himself from the couples in love (or at least in lust).

Carolis takes up his goblet again, and lo there is more wine on it. Watch the aloof Lord Carolis gather his composure around him again. Ahem! Yes, very nice music. That is where Tellur can find him. Follow the sound of incredible music. He isn't performing. Not a single note. But he's listening. Arion and Garvin have danced, and Loryn and Bryce play. Carolis, out of character for himself, drinks his wine a little on the too-fast side.

Tellur comes down from upstairs. He is wearing another of the light sets of clothing that Arion picked out, and Garvin paid for, this one red, and black, with white accents. Linen, with no doublet or cloak, breeches rather than hose - it does not seem as though anything is going to convince him that _those_ are right. He has his raven on his wrist, and the creature is wearing a couple of white bands around each leg. He is neatly presented, and wary-looking. THere is music here - he can hear it.

Garvin is surprised by the new tune, but his eyes light, and emboldened by love and wine (and lust, let's never forget the power of lust), he holds out his hand to Arion and begins leading him in a slow, almost sensual dance, moving closer to the Florent than is likely appropriate in any venue. Of course, if Arion shows signs that he wants to lead, Garvin will defer. Of the two, he's definitely the less masculine, though he's not what anyone would really call effeminate either. Still, he has no problem taking a lady's role in the dance, if it will make his beloved happy.

There are a few things that will hit Carolis like a dash of icewater to the face and snap him out of any untoward thoughts. The first is seeing how easily Garvin's will crumbles when it comes to that pesky 'discretion' thing. The other is noticing Tellur. He sets the goblet down sharply and sits bolt upright. There's no blush now. No, he is a Proper Lord being Properly Lordly. He does regard the players with appreciation, but it's a polite kind of appreciation.

Arion easily takes the lead in the dance. He moves close to Garvin there bodies touching as they dance about the room gracefully. Arion's eyes are glued onto the Tyrell and there seems to be no one else in the room at the moment as far as the Florent is concerned. He spins Garvin out slowly before pulling him close once again.

Tellur glances around, a smile on his face at the pleasant music…until he spots Arion and Garvin dancing together. Then it freezes off his face like a snowfall in winter. He is trying not to look scandalised, but he does fail. Then he looks at Carolis, and the others present. The raven on his wrist declares "I'm a pretty girl!" in a loud, vulgar tone.

Bryce continues the play noticing the change in the Stark Lords demeanor and raising an eyebrow following that gaze to the boy that just entered. The bard smiles that charming smile of his for Tellur and his gaze looks to Arion and Garvin as the song winds down. He sighs wistfully as he watches the couple admiration in his eyes before he glances to Loryn and winks offering the man a warm smile as the song finishes. "Well played Lord Loryn. I will have to get you to assist me more often." The raven's call gets his attention and he raises a brow at the bird chuckling slightly. He looks back to the pair of lords and smiles knowingly. "I do believe its late and I should be on my way to find lodgings for the night. Good night to all of you my lords." he bows with a flourish and sends carolis another lingering look before he sweeps out of the room with grace and poise.

Loryn smiles faintly at Bryce's words and nods. "It would be a honor. Rest well." He puts the harp aside, apparently not interested in playing on alone, especially since the new arrival seems anything but pleased about the scene he finds. So he reaches for his wine and watches to see what will happen next.

<FS3> Garvin rolls Dancing: Good Success.
<FS3> Arion rolls Dancing: Failure.

Carolis rises to his feet, and he says, "Brilliant, Lord Loryn, Bryce Storm." Yeah, Tellur. He was making moonyeyes at a bastard. He clasps his hands together, fingers steepled over his lips, then he says, "I hope that you'll grace us with another song soon. I will be staying with the Tyrells for, ah, I don't know how long." He eyes the raven, then, and he walks over to it, and consequently Tellur. "You spoil this pathetic fat thing," he complains. Yet he gives the bird a good scratch under her feathers. "Tellur, this is Lord Loryn Tyrell, and the bard Bryce Storm. He has some renown here South of the Neck." Apparently we're just going to not talk about the wholly inappropriate behavior of his host and the hot blond. Er, ahem. The other. Man. Yeah.

Garvin is swept away by Arion, and for him too, the rest of the world seems to fade into oblivion, leaving only the two of them. He's not a bad dancer, even when taking the less familiar woman's role, moving gracefully around the great hall in Arion's arms. But then the song ends, and reality returns again. Blushing deeply, he quickly steps back from the Florent, giving a quick bow and muttering an apology. He glances around at all the others, but can't make eye contact with anyone. Fortunately, Bryce gives him an excuse to talk about something else. "Thank you so much for the music, Bryce Storm," he says with a grin. "I do hope to see you tomorrow at the Whimsy, before the performance."

Tellur says, in a northern-accented voice "Good evening, Lords, and Master Storm." His voice is _very_ polite, a little lipped through being startled, and then he says "Pleasant music indeed - certainly not a skill of mine, such a thing. How are you, tonight, Lord Carolis?" He nods to Loryn and Bryce, and the raven on his wrist leans out for Carolis' attention, as Tellur says "I don't spoil her, I just reward her." She _is_ kind of plump for a bird.

Arion seems extremely distracted by his partner and stumbles as the dance ends. He almost falls completly but he reaches out clinging to Garvin for support as he blushes in embaressment. Bryce is a welcome distraction from his plight as he steps back and offers the man a warm smile as he leaves. "Thank you for the wonderful performance Master Storm. I hope you will come and play for us again some time."

Bryce turns at Carolis's word and offers him a warm smile glancing to Arion as well. "If Lord Garvin wishes it I would be glad to return and yes I will be at the theater tomorrow Lord Garvin you have my word." He offers the Stark Lord another soft smile and then takes his leave for good shutting the door behind him.

As he's being introduced, Loryn inclines his head to Tellur for a greeting - way too late to get up and bow, besides he isn't sure the man is worth it. He wasn't introduced as a Lord after all. "Good evening.", he says politely, "Speaking of which, the hour is fairly advanced, perhaps I should find that room my brother spoke of. I hope to watch the full play tomorrow and better be rested."

Carolis funnels all sorts of affection he doesn't show people into the bird. Ah, redirection. See, Garvin? This is what he was talking about last night! He scratches the bird under her beak, and he preens her neck feathers. By the gods, he just adores the crap out of this animal. "She must be a very good bird," he says wryly. "Tellur, Lord Garvin's play was brilliant." He doesn't sound surprised! Honest! Still petting the bird, he glances to the others and says, "This is my man, Tellur Snow. He is a fine trainer of animals, and he assists me while I'm here in Oldtown." Finally he does acknowledge that Garvin and Arion are in fact dancing. He looks a little wistful, but only briefly. That wistfulness throws him off his aloofness again, and he offers Bryce an awkward but pleased smile. "A pleasant night to you, Bryce Storm," he says.

Tellur says, a little dryly "I did not mean to break up the…party." He inclines his head at his introduction, and the raven on his wrist gapes her beak and leans into the attention. She has little silvery rings around each leg, for tying messages to. And she likes attention, indeed she does. Tellur regards Arion and Garvin thoughtfully, his expression almost muted, hooded. Though Lord Garvin has him being slightly wary, it has to be said "I'm afraid I can't replace the music - I have no skill there at all. Perhaps you should sing, Lord Carolis."

Ah, ah, ah! Keyte slips in the great doors as one other takes his leave, dipping her head and curtsying genially to greet him — farewell, apparently. The few who have filtered across the bridge with her back from wherever they were are wiser to enter through the stables, leaving the Tyrell girl to fend for herself. She allows Bryce to shut the door for them both, and lifts her chin to survey those gathered in the great hall. Perhaps this is a hi-and-bye affair; she begins to move toward the stairs.

Garvin gives Bryce a dramatic bow as he makes his way out, grinning brightly. "It was a pleasure to meet you!" he calls, then turns to the rest of the room with a sigh, still a little high from all the evening's events. "Well, that was fun. And Loryn! I had no idea you could play so well. Must have learned it while off squiring? You simply must play with the musicians at the playhouse tomorrow night…No! This is even better." He glances at Arion, eyes alight. "Don't you think Loryn would make a simply perfect Squire? He's had loads of experience at it already." He turns again to Loryn. "And for the next play, I'll write an even bigger role, just for you. Won't that be grand?" Tellur barely gets a glance, but when he does happen to look that way, Lord Pansy blushes just a touch, for some reason. The raven isn't noticed at all.

Loryn seems a little surprised but certainly flattered by Garvin's words. "Thank you, cousin, I'm trying.", he says modestly, "I do not think I could learn all the music of the play until tomorrow and to be honest, it is my dream to be ON stage. So perhaps some part for the next play, cousin?", he suggests hopefully. He is distracted by another new arrival - this one female and vaguely familiar. "Cousin!", he beams and turns from Garvin to Keyte. Wait, there were two of them, weren't there. He wasn't sure which one this is - he last saw the twins a few years ago, so 'cousin' will have to do for address. "How good to see you!"

Carolis's eyes widen briefly, then his expression becomes inscrutable as he says, "Tellur, you know I don't sing all that well. We're here in the presence of real musicians." He gives the raven another little scratch, them smoothes her feathers. He glances between Tellur and Garvin, quick eyes calculating, and then he smiles a little. "If you don't behave, I'll sing to you," he tells Tellur, like it's some kind of threat. "Come see the play, though. It was a lot of fun." He offers Lady Keyte a bow of greeting. Then he asks Tellur, "Have you met Lady Keyte Tyrell?"

Arion smiles and then one of his guards, Jon pokes his head in the door. "Lord Arion….I was asked to fetch you and take you home. I would come along lest you make the she-fox even angrier." Arion goes pale and sighs. He places a gentle lingering kiss to Garvins lips before heading for the door. "Good night to everyone and I will see you tomrrow Garvin." He blushes a bit when he finally spots Keyte and then hurries off in a quick retreat.

Swish, swish, go the skirts on a very ostentatious silk gown in the vivid green and gold of Tyrell. Keyte's steps carry her swift and light on her path toward the stairs, only stopping as she's waylaid by an address. She halts somewhat guiltily, shoulders hunching as she braces herself for a barrage of questions. When she turns to face the gathered, though, it's with the brightest of smiles, all warm and sparkling eyes. "Lorynnnnn," she drawls, clearly more fond of the younger than his elder brother. She seems just short of spreading her arms wide to beckon him for embrace, when her arms dart down instead to splay her skirts for a deeper curtsy to the Stark. "My lord Carolis," she greets in favorable tones, her smile skewing a little lopsided. "How is your Valyrian coming along?" If she notices Arion's overfond entwining with her cousin, she pays it no heed.

Tellur says gravely "I have not." The raven hops off his wrist and onto Carolis' shoulder, and Tellur looks just faintly irritated. Then he glances at Arion's own aide, and his eyes widen a little. Kissing! Gah! Tellur colours, and he stays on the Carolis side of Lord Garvin. Finally there is a young woman in here, and he is bowing, already.

Garvin wraps his arm around Arion's waist, pulling him close for another kiss, a bit less gentle, but still semi-decent. "I shall accompany you to your manse, then return." Grinning, he releases Arion and looks over at Loryn and Keyte. "Oh no, the Squire is an on-stage role. Not a very large one, granted, but you'd look so good in the costume. Don't to anywhere, I'll tell you all about it when I return." He sends a page off to alert the guards to be ready to escort Lord Pansy through the streets, then gives everyone else a wave as he heads for the door. "I shan't be long, everyone! Have some more wine and enjoy one another's company."

Loryn might have hugged Keyte, too, especially now she's been identified and he remembers them spending time together years ago, playing together and perhaps tugging her hair now and then. "Keyte, it's good to see you. How have you been? I've only just arrived today.", he explains eagerly. He looks surprised when Garvin explains and laughs out loudly, clearly pleased. "Oh, I've just stopped being a real squire and now you want me to play a squire on stage? How marvellous!" He definitely seems excited, but also worried. "Is it a lot of text to learn?"

Carolis gives the raven another scritch. Okay, so he he's a little owned by the bird. He gives a small shake of his head at the kissing. Not as scandalized as Tellur, but just shaking his head. He does offer Arion a bow though and tells him, "You were brilliant tonight, Lord Arion. Lord Garvin, good night to you if I don't see you before I retire, which I'm afraid will be soon." He then offers Keyte a warm smile. "Not as well as it should."

The Raven walks crab-wise up and down Carolis' arm, then hops off, gives a heavy flap, and makes its way over to land on Tellur's shoulder. Carolis' man takes a deep breath, and suggests to his Lord "Perhaps I should just enter all over again. I'm not used to these Southern Manners."

"Be…" Discreet? Proper? "Safe, sweet cous," are the words Keyte settles on, finally deigning to acknowledge the terribly scandalous Garvin. Give that there are guests to entertain, she resigns herself to lingering, glancing about for a maid or page to offer her a cup. Guests means wine, does it not? "My, you've grown," she tells Laurent's younger brother, making a point of looking him up and down. "I'm so pleased to have you here, really and truly! And oh no, my lord," she continues, turning back to the Stark with a smirk. "My fault, of course, my schedule so… full, of late." She watches the raven move from one man to the next, and fair beams her smile at Tellur. She may have just missed his bow, but she's a curtsy for him, with a curious tilt of her head. "Is he yours?" She's enquiring eagerly after the bird, of the Snow.

He has grown? This is the kind of thing Loryn would expect to hear from a doddery old aunt, not from a pretty young cousin. "Well, so have you, dear cousin.", he grins at Keyte, with a none too subtle look at her front. With Garvin and Arion gone, he finally has some time to focus on Carolis and Tellur as well. "You must think me rude, but I haven't seen my dear cousins for a few years.", he tells the Northerners, "I've been away as a squire. It seems I've missed quite a few interesting developments." A pointed look towards the door through which Garvin and Arion just departed.

Carolis tells Tellur, "You're fine. The evening is late, and the players are weary, that's all." He gives the bird a fond glance. He then tells Lady Keyte, "A lady of your graciousness and standing surely must have more important things to do than tutor a houseguest. There is no fault to be found." He draws Tellur closer to the Tyrells with a light clasp of his elbow. Come forth, servant. "Not at all, Lord Loryn. May I present to you both my man Tellur Snow? He's here to assist me for the duration of my stay."

"Yes," says Tellur, somewhat charmed by the young woman, and he holds his arm out, as the raven dances down it, fluttering wings for more attention "Her name is Magwyn - she can speak, a little. And she is a great fan of being stroked behind the neck, just there." He then clears his throat, looking sideways at Loryn "Not rude at all - courtesies are an important thing." And then he allows a lopsided smile to come as Carolis bids him closer "Yes. I brought his horse and hawk down from the North. I fear my manners aren't…refined."

Of course she's grown! Keyte's rather less an awkward pre- and teenaged girl now, and more a polished little lady. (When it suits her.) "Oh, it's a he!" She exclaims for Tellur's raven, enchanted. She scurries forward, ignoring the page who brings her wine in favor of extending her arm to the animal. There's no fear there, and she's ready with a scritch and a scratch, laughter brooking delightedly. "There's a lady at court with a raven," she lifts her sparkling eyes to meet the Snow's, before asiding with interest — "Are you a Ser now, Loryn?" Carolis earns himself a quick 'nother smile too, but the bird's where the bulk of her attention is spent. Hello, Magwyn!

"This is not a hawk.", Loryn points out when Tellur explains about bringing horse and hawk down from the north. As if he's the only one who could tell a hawk from a raven. But it's late and his brain is mush. "A pleasure to meet you, though, Master Snow." The young Tyrell does keep his distance from the bird. Instead he focuses on his cousin again. "No, I am not a Ser.", he admits a bit sourly, "I am done with squiring. I'm joining Garvin's theatre."

Carolis laughs quietly and says, "The raven is Tellur's. My hawk isn't terribly social. Neither is the horse, for that matter." To Tellur, he says, "He was a bit nippy last night when we went to the lake. I got him to tolerate the guard handling him when we went down to the river, but only barely." He shakes his head as he watches the bird. So spoiled. "As much as I hate to leave, I'm afraid I should make my way to my bed as well. Lady Keyte, it is a pleasure to see you, as always. I look forward to our next lesson." He bows to her. And then a bow to Loryn. "Lord Loryn, your playing was inspiring. Please tell me you'll perform for us again soon?"

"A she…but she's got little interest in male ravens, in raising chicks," grins Tellur, lopsidedly "Every young promise I've shown her has been sent off with a flea in his ear." The raven caws "I'm a pretty girl!" in delight, and then Tellur says to Loryn "No, she is not. The hawk would never tolerate being brought indoors like this, she might have someone's eye out. She's very proud, and very severe, and much like many hawks, knows that we are her servants, not the other way around." He then nods to Carolis, and he says to him "He needs a little more riding, and some of it through harsher terrain. HE's not used to a soft life. You are going? I'll be on my pallet later." As if the man needs guarding.

Keyte glances over her shoulder toward Loryn to question, "You're not?" It's an invitation to elaborate, of course, but her concern is swiftly followed by a reassuring, "Oh, you are! Wonderful. I'm sure Laurent will be suitably horrified!" That gives her no end of satisfaction, if her smug smile is anything to go by! "Oh, you're tired already, my lord? Well, never mind. Sleep well, Carolis," bids she, speaking his name without title as though it might induct him into some secret club. Circle of trust style, yeah. "Will she step onto my arm, do you think?" The girl squeaks a little as the raven speaks, breaking into another giggle.

Loryn smiles at Carolis' compliment. "I'll be happy to, My Lord.", he assures him, then turns to Keyte with an almost triumphant look. "See? They like my music. I like to be on stage. I mean, I think I'd like to. I've been watching plays and it seems a lot of fun. Squiring was not. My knight was impossible. I cannot count the hours I spent in the mud and the dirt, cleaning up after him, being at his side, supporting him. I was always cold and miserable. I don't like to be yelled at. Nobody yells at a Tyrell.", he declares huffily. Oh he knows Laurent will be mad at him. But he'll face him only after some sleep and a good meal.

Garvin finally returns to the manse, with a flushed face and a satisfied smirk on his lips. Someone got lucky! Well, as lucky as one can get in a pallanquin during the short trip to Foxearth manse. "Anyone still awake?" he calls, tossing his cloak to an overworked page as he makes his way to the great hall. "Wine, I must have wine," he says to another page, still a little breathless. "I've worked up quite a thirst…uh…walking." His blush deepens as he gives everyone a sheepish little grin. Dropping into a chair, he gives Loryn a grin, having just caught the last of his words. "Of course, no one yells at a Tyrell. Who'd dare? Besides, you're going to be marvellous on stage. Just look at you! Why, I daresay you're almost as pretty as me." He adds a wink to his grin, as the page hands him a goblet of Arbor red.

Tellur says to the girl "If I ask her to, yes. If you pet her, she'll make a terrible nuisance of herself." He grins "And probably harass you constantly for grapes, and other things that she shouldn't really be eating large amounts." He then gestures the raven off to settle onto the girl's wrist, and she is a remarkably large bird - a bit heavy, too. The raven extends one wing. Tellur than glances at Loyrn "I don't mind cold, dirt, or mud. But I shouldn't think being yelled at was very pleasant." He then blinks as Garvin comes in, though he awkwardly looks towards Carolis "Er…"

"Oh, sleep in my room tonight," Carolis tells Tellur. "If I can't sleep through this cursed heat, I'll want you to draw me a bath." To Keyte, he says, "It's this heat, my dear lady. How people live in it on purpose continues to perplex me." He smiles fleetingly. Teasing! About this horrible inferno these Southerners call a home. He then admits, "The knighthood perplexes me as well, but if you're heart isn't in the fight, the field isn't where you belong, I think. I never did take to the sword. My brother is the finest swordsman there is, but I'm hopeless, I'm afraid." Garvin gets a bow as he returns. "I was just on my way to bed," he tells his host.

"You take the weather entirely too personally," Keyte intones to Carolis, with another smirk. "Please though, when we're at home, just call me Keyte?" She's caught up then, accepting Magwyn onto her wrist with a soft exclamation about the bird's weight, reaching to support her arm with the opposing hand. "Goodness, she's a heavy thing! Hello, Magwyn. I'm Keyte," she addresses the bird, the rest of the room forgotten — sorry Loryn, Garvin. "Tellur tells me you like grapes? I love grapes, and strawberries. Do you love — ooh, you're a heavy thing! — do you love strawberries, Magwyn?" She glances up to to Tellur, as if he might need to answer.

Loryn can't help laughing at Carolis' complaint about the weather. "Heat? I find it rather pleasingly warm after months in the muck and rain. But then I don't think I would last a single week in the dismal North with its snow and ice." The young Tyrell shudders at the very idea. He can't resist adding though: "If you freeze too much here, I am quite sure Master Storm would not mind to keep you warm." He smiles when Garvin returns, though the half-baked compliment makes him blush a little and shrug. "No more pretty than most of our family, I suppose. So tell me more about the part. How much text is it to learn?", he asks curiously.

Garvin swallows half his wine in several long gulps, then gasps in delight, licking his lips. "I do love a fine Arbor red, don't you?" he asks everyone and no one in particular. He's quite tipsy already, still riding the high of his performance on stage (and whatever he and Arion got up to a few minutes ago), and he turns his blurry eyes on Loryn again. "Nonsense, you're gorgeous. Why, if I weren't your cousin, I'd…uh…probably make a fool of myself." His flush turns into a blush again, which he tries to cover by drinking again. "Lines, yes, lines. There are some. Did Novak leave those copies of the play?" He looks around helplessly, until a page hurries up with a leather bundle bursting with parchments. Grinning brilliantly again, he spreads it open on the table and looks over one of the folios with a nod, before sliding it across to Loryn. "There you are! It isn't a large role, not too many lines. Tell you what. Come watch us reherse tomorrow, then see the performance, and then on Friday, you can reherse with us and maybe take over the Squire's role that night. Sound fair?"

Tellur's lip twists at 'draw me a bath'. He is rather more new to being a servant than he is to training beasts, or so it seems. Magwyn unfurls her wings again, and she lifts a claw, to try to take a finger on that opposing hand and shake it as though she were shaking a hand. Her blue eyes flick, and then refocus on Keyte's eyes, and she intones "I am a pretty thing!" brightly. Tellur says "She'll happily eat any of those, but she'd be better to have a boiled egg or a piece of bacon rind. My Lord Carolis is right, I do spoil her." He bites his lower lip as Loryn speaks and then he looks at Loryn, his eyes widening "You don't know the beauty of winter? In the evening, when smoke itself coils slow like a cat, and when every branch lies a-glitter with sleeping, sodden light? You might learn it one day, if you are lucky. All places have their beauties. And their loathlies." He pauses "Being a loathly, compared to Lord Carolis, I will content myself with Arbor Red - if possible."

"In my defense," Carolis says wryly, "Your weather started it." He then utters a laugh and attempts to look scandalized. "Dismal! Dismal, he calls it. No, it is the purest beauty a man will ever lay eyes upon. Besides, it's nice and warm ins—." Whatever else he intends to say about the matter is brought up short by the mention of Master Storm keeping him warm. He opens his mouth, closes it, then says, "I'm sure Master Storm is being kind. It would no break my heart if he came to Winterfell to play when I'm back home, though." If his cheeks flush at all, it's the heat. He then comments, with a glance at the bird, "She'll happily eat anything that will fit in her mouth. Now, Tellur, don't say such things. I like you just fine." There's a slight emphasis on the 'I' and the 'you.'

"It did not!" Keyte will defend her weather until the cows come home — or whatever the Westeros equivalent is. She's still struggling under Magwyn's weight, though utterly delighted with the giant bird's acceptance of her. She wants a kiss, apparently, leaning her face down boldly close to the raven's beak. "You are a pretty thing," she tells her, beaming prettily at the bird as boys back-and-forth with compliments for and on behalf of one another. "I'll sneak you a strawberry, Magwyn," she promises solemnly.

Garvin wants to make a pass at his young male cousin, Keyte wants to kiss a bird. One does have to wonder about the Tyrells sometime. Loryn does blush a little at Garvin's remark and decides it's far better to focus on the play, taking the folio from his cousin to skim it and look at the Squire's lines. "Yes, I think it will be best to watch a full performance and rehearsals to see what I'll be doing. Won't the current actor mind if I push him out of the play, though?", he wonders. Actors and petty jealousies being the life and soul of backstage drama. Having landed a rather low blow to Carolis, he ignores the Northrons now, just rolling his eyes at their attempt to talk up their horrible weather up north.

Garvin waves a hand dismissively, holding his goblet out so it can be magically refilled. "Oh, I'm sure he won't mind. And if he does, I'll just find something else for him to do. It's my playhouse after all, right? What's the good of being the Lord of Whimsy if I can't put my cousin in a play?" He grins, taking a long swallow of wine, not even noticing the page who refilled his goblet. Finally, he looks to Keyte and the Northerners. "I shouldn't like snow or ice or any of that," he says with a shudder. "I like the weather down here just fine. The days are warm, the nights are pleasantly cool, and…Well, I wager you can't go swimming up there in the North any time you wish, like you can here. We had fun the other night, didn't we, Carolis? You, me, and Ser Malcolm. Say, what did the two of you talk about while I was swimming?"

As Keyte leans in, the raven does an odd thing - though familiar to anyone who keeps a corvid. It turns its beak away from her, carefully, and Tellur says "She won't put that weapon near your eyes, Lady, any more than any of her tribe would put it near the eyes of their offspring - it's very rude for a raven to do it, though she knows it isn't rude for a human." He laughs at the comment, about the strawberries. Magwyn, like many birds, is very warm to hold as well. Then Tellur nods to Carolis, politely, and he says to Loryn "Was it very hard being a Squire? I sometimes think…well," he shrugs "As a Bastard, it's one way to improve myself." He blinks though, glancing back at Carolis, and he opens his mouth, frowns, and finally says "My Lord Carolis is very forgiving. Given that I sat on him and punched him in the head." He then watches Lord Pansy, and he says "But the snow is very beautiful. I go swimming when I wish - in ice. With wolves."

Look, this might be more a 'bees' household when Garvin's in attendance, but there's no shame in kissing a bird! Keyte's at first a little put out by the raven's perceived rejection, but she looks to Tellur for an explanation, and is somewhat pacified. "Oh," says she, still a little sad. You could've pecked her lip, Magwyn. She'd not have minded. She lifts her brows, scorned so, instead to the North lord's servant. "You want to squire?" As if it's a natural progression (it's not), or it's appropriate to address both in one breath (it's likely not), she adds: "You swim in the ice?"

Carolis grins at Keyte with a playful glint in his eye. The young Stark might be enjoying this a little too much. "I suppose I can tolerate it knowing there's that pool Lord Garvin showed us the other night." To Garvin, he says, "Ser Malcolm and I discussed swordplay. He seemed very knowledgeable." He then adds, "The swimming in Winterfell is amazing. It was built upon hot springs. Nothing takes the bite out of the cold like a nice hot plunge. It almost makes you want to get cold just so you can warm up." He then adds, "But yes, I do swim in the ice. I'm a Northerner, my dear Keyte." He claps Tellur on the arm. "It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge. Be quiet when you come in. I don't want to be woken up." He bows to Garvin, Loryn, and Keyte again.

Loryn is deeply absorbed in the play now, the conversation basically washing over him. "I will withdraw now and read this tomorrow morning, when I'm rested.", he tell Garvin and closes the folio, to tuck the tome under his arm. "it's been a long and very interesting day. Good night - Lord Carolis, Master Snow. Cousins." He bows to everyone and heads out to finally sleep.

Garvin narrows his eyes suspiciously at both Carolis and Tellur. "Nobody swims in ice," he insists, as though he knows this for a certainty. He gives his eyes a roll, telling Keyte, "They're having a little fun at our expense, Cousin." He gives Loryn a brilliant grin then. "Sleep well, dear cousin! I shall see you on the morrow, and we'll go to the playhouse together. It will be great fun!"
Loryn has disconnected.

"When I have to," says Tellur, smiling wolfishly "What is the alternative? To get filthy? No, we do swim in winter streams, when we must." He adds "And as I'm little more than a commoner, I have to have colder ice than Carolis, even." He pauses, flushing "LOrd Carolis. Goodness. Perhaps a little wine would settle me." And he says to Carolis "I shan't wake you, I shall be as quiet as a mouse." His raven meanwhile, looks across, then announces to everyone "GODS, TELLUR!"

Carolis laughs, shaking his head, "Tellur, honestly." Taunting the Southerners. It's cruel! Also hilarious, but cruel! "You're a Snow, and you're my man. You're worth at least tepid slush." He claps the man on the shoulder again. "Enjoy your wine." The bird gets a sidelong look and he wags a finger. "You sleep in the rookery." Keyte and Garvin get a good-natured wink, and then he takes his leave. He might be humming under his breath. Maybe just a little.

Garvin says, "calls after Carolis, since he forgot earlier, "Sleep well also, Carolis! I hope to see you on the morrow as well." He lets out a happy sigh, then sets about some more heavy drinking."

Keyte glances between the raven she's supporting with two arms, and her cousin speaking against the Northerners. Now Garvin, don't take it personally, but… "I'm not so sure," she murmurs concernedly to her sweet cous. "Sleep well, Loryn!" The girl can glance away briefly to bid, but she's back to Magwyn before long, with a bright laugh for the raven's exclamation. "Gods, Tellur," she echoes, still laughing, each syllable interrupted by her mirth. "Would he like some wine, Magwyn? Wine for Tellur? — Sleep well, Carolis!" The way she's latched onto the bird, it might be sleeping in her and her twin's chambers. I'm sure Kesha would love that. (no)

Garvin calls after Carolis, since he forgot earlier, "Sleep well also, Carolis! I hope to see you on the morrow as well." He lets out a happy sigh, then sets about some more heavy drinking.

Tellur colours a little at the 'Gods, Tellur!' said in the tone of the Maester of Winterfall. And then the raven says, in a low voice "Wine, wine, wine!" Tellur sighs, heavily, and then tells the lady "He would like a drink. I'm sorry if I seem a little…rattled. I am not certain of my manners here, as I have said." He eyes Lord Garvin, uncertainly "How are you after the other night, Lord Garvin? You had a great deal too much wine."

Garvin has had a great deal too much wine tonight as well, his bloodshot eyes half-lidded. "Hmmm? Oh, I feel fine. The special cream from the Citadel is very soothing. See, I can sit quite comfortably." He wiggles a bit in his seat, but does so too quickly, and he nearly topples out of the chair. "I think perhaps I should have a bath." His eyes suddenly light a little, as he looks at Carolis. "Would you care to join me? I know you like to cool off in the water before bed."

Carolis catches that before he disappears up the stairs, and he calls back, "No thank you, Lord Garvin." Perfectly pleasant, but there's just no way. Poor Garvin. Carolis is a mean, mean Northerner.

Keyte eyes Tellur rather skeptically, as she tries to urge Magwyn up her arm a little that she might have a free hand despite the raven's weight. "Manners? Dear Tellur, you just saw my sweet cous molested by a Florent, I'm sure you're well aware that manners are a… well. We're rather above those things people call 'manners', here upon the Isle." As she's no hands free yet to snap fingers, she jerks her head to beckon for drinks, a page obliging quickly. They're used to heavy drinkers, here. "Our guest is partial to Arbor's red, I hear," she tells the boy, glancing to the Snow for correction, if he deems it. Carolis is bid a warm smile for his goodnight, but she's rather busy here with a raven and a page etc etc. You'll forgive her, Carolis.
Carolis has disconnected.

Tellur stares at Garvin, sharp-eyed, however Carolis appears to have things in hand. Nevertheless, he says softly "Have a care, Lord Garvin. The reputation of a Stark is something they take very seriously, indeed." That said, he glances at Keyte, and then he finally says "…I'm not used to such things. I can't say I've ever…really been very knowledgable in the ways of 'romance', but I can tell you how manners are taught where I come from. With a sharp tongue and a sharper hand, if needsbe." The raven is now sitting on the woman's shoulder, comfortable, as Tellur says graciously "Arbor red would be lovely."

Garvin snorts and rolls his eyes at Tellur, finishing off his wine and waving away the page who offers to refill his goblet. "Well, if Northern pride prevents you from having fun behind the closed doors of a private home, then I feel sorry for the lot of you." He manages to push himself to his feet, and yet another page hurries offer the drunken lord his shoulders, well used to helping Garvin upstairs at night. "Cousin, Tellur, I bid you both a good evening, and I shall take my leave now. My nice, soothing bath beacons, as does my soft, comfortable bed. Which, I'm sorry to say, I shall be sharing with no one tonight." Childishly, he sticks out his tongue, then allows the page to guide him toward the tower stairs.

Keyte's not unused to the sharp looks her cousin wears from other men, reaching out as the raven settles much more comfortably on her shoulder to brush her hand upon the bastard's arm. "It's not so different here," she shares, expression opening up honestly. She turns her cheek up to Magwyn: will you at least snuggle that sidelong, pretty bird? She spares a moment to poke tongues back at her cousin, admitting aside, "He has a longer rein, here. — Night, sweet cous!"

And finally Magwyn presses her head against Keyte's cheek, as Tellur says softly to Lord Garvin "It isn't Northern pride, milord, such as instruction, closely given, closely heeded. The Maester of Winterfell bid me serve Lord Carolis, and I do." He then lifts a hand "Sleep well. I am sorry you will be alone tonight." He quirks his lips at the lass, and says to her "Just be careful that he doesn't hang himself with them. You can get away with a lot more once you are married and have an heir or two, that I know."

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