(121-04-17) Ladies of Dorne
Ladies of Dorne
Summary: In which two Dornish ladies are discussed by two Targaryens
Date: April 19, 2014
Related: Secret Arrivals
Players:
Daevon..Aevander..

Daevon's sent word to Aevander for them to meet, as soon as possible. Daevon's dressed all in black and he's awaiting his brother's arrival.

Aevander arrives an hour or so after the letter is sent. He's also dressed all in black, but jeeze. Some great hero of Dorne dies, and all the sudden, everybody's stealing your style!

Daevon closes the door behind Aevander. "Brother," he greets. Always one to cut right to the point. "We found Lady Blackmont."

Well. That was not… "Uh," Aevander murmurs, blinking several times. "Well. That was unexpected? Is the lady well? Where was she found?"

"She was found on the border," Daevon says. "She had been held prisoner but managed to escape. She is as well as to be expected after such an ordeal. She says that the attackers of Wickhams Nest were not Dornish. She was taken prisoner, for her beauty and not for a personal vendetta and she knew none of those who abducted her. But their accents were not Dornish."

Aevander blinks slowly, his brows lifting a little. "Where was she held prisoner? And how is it she managed to escape, rather conveniently just after the matter surrounding her capture was, in fact, resolved?"

"She does not know where," Daevon says. "I have not yet asked her how. She was utterly exhausted when I spoke with her. She is sleeping now. She is our guest and I have offered her my protection. The greatest protection, currently, is secrecy. I would not have any know of her presence here. Her husband is still being held for ransom by the Tyrells." He shakes his head. "There was nothing convenient about her escape."

"Certainly not for us," Aevander agrees dryly. "And you mean to tell me she is here? In Oldtown. Under our roof?"

"Yes," Daevon replies. "And no, her escape was hardly convenient for herself either. You have not met her, yet and you would do best to judge the situation after you have done so."

Aevander exhales softly, pushing a hand through his hair. "Well, I shall do my best to rectify that as soon as possible. Where have you tucked her away?"

"One of the guest rooms," Daevon says, naming the most private and secluded of them. "The few servants who know she is here do not know her identity. I would rather keep it that way. I would also prefer you do not interrogate her. I shall be sending word to Ser Bastion Stark, asking him to come and question her. I hope that with his knowledge of such questioning techniques, coupled with his interest in cartography and geography he will be able to narrow down where she was held."

"And what is it you are calling her, then, when you speak of her to the servants?" Aevander asks. His brows lift again at the mention of Bastion. "His… questioning techniques?"

Daevon's not been calling her anything, so Aevander's question has him somewhat perplexed. "He's a member of the watch. He'll know the right questions to ask to get information."

"If you're going to have a Stark interrogate her, I'd ask to be present for that," Aevander settles on.

"Question, not interrogate," Daevon says. "And if she agrees to it then certainly. I wish to be there myself. And if I can get Mariya ransomed then I would have her there as well."

"Mariya Martell is…" Aevander holds up a hand in a silent request for Daevon to halt a moment. "Come again?"

"She is being held by the Tyrells," Daevon says. "The funds from Sunspear to pay the ransoms are a week away. She has offered to remain in Ser Arros' stead, as assurance of his return, and so that he may accompany Ser Osric's body, and his family to Starfall."

"Ah," Aevander replies, exhaling softly. "Well, I suppose that makes a sort of sense. And… if the ransom for Arros is coming, why are you ransoming Mariya?"

"Aevander, do you feel it is appropriate for the Tyrell's to hold my betrothed as a prisoner for a week?" Daevon asks.

"Not against her will, no," Aevander replies. "But this was an arrangement made to maintain everyone's honor and allow Ser Arros to see to his friend's burial. Besides, Ser Arros was captured by Ser Quillian, so it is not the Tyrells that have her, but the Oakhearts."

"She is to be held at Garden Isle Manse," Daevon points out. "Which is owned by the Tyrells."

"But the Tyrells do not dictate when she may leave, that is Ser Quillian," Aevander replies, "who happens to be residing there as well."

Daevon's frowning darkly now.

Aevander shrugs. "It will take only a day or two less to bring the money from Dragonstone, brother," he replies, "and if the ransom is already en route, it seems excessive and unnecessary."

"Visenya offered to pawn all her jewelry," Daevon says quietly. "Ryzael offered what money he could find. And you're telling me that I am wrong to be concerned?"

"Yes," Aevander replies gently, "that is what I am telling you. Do you believe she will be treated ill?"

"I think it bad enough that she has been held at all," Daevon says. "She seems to have spent more time as a prisoner in this city than not. Even the most gilded cage is still a cage. And I do not think she will be kept in a gilded cage."

"Daevon, if she offered herself, it is different. Mariya has not been kidnapped, abducted or taken against her will. She has given herself in honorable exchange willingly. To offer a ransom of pawned necklaces and scrounged coins would be an insult and is certainly beneath the Martells and the Targaryens."

"I told Visenya no," Daevon says. "And Ryzael is family."

"If you told them know… then what are we arguing about?" Aevander asks, brows furrowing.

"I'm not arguing, Aevander," Daevon sighs.

"Then what…" Aevander pushes a hand through his hair. "Are you going to try to ransom Mariya before the ransom she's already sent for arrives?"

"Clearly I can't," Daevon says. "I have no ready funds."

"All right, then, good," Aevander replies with a small nod. "There's certainly no reason you can't visit her in the meanwhile, as both a friend and a concerned fiance."

Daevon's frowning, still upset it would seem. "And have the Tyrells watch my every coming and going. And give them more fodder for the malicious lies they spread against us."

"Indeed, let them try," Aevander replies. "What lies can they stir up about a man keeping company with his betrothed during a time of confusion and mourning?"

"I would not be able to speak with her alone, nor about the matters I wish to discuss," Daevon says. "We would need a chaperone of unquestionable reputation, least they decide to use my visits to suggest inappropriateness. She is in mourning, in pain, and she should be with her family, her friends and those who love her. Instead she is being held prisoner by the very men who have treated her so abominably."

"How has anyone treated Princess Mariya abominably?" Aevander asks. "If you need a chaperone, take one with you. Elionys, perhaps, or Sapphyra or a maester from the citadel. There are any number you might choose. She is, indeed, all those things, but she is also a princess, and clearly strong enough to put the needs of per people before her own hurts. I find that very admirable."

"Her people," Daevon clarifies. "The attack on the Red Rookery, Ser Osric's death. Placing her under house arrest, then pulling her out of her home in the middle of the night and dragging her to the Hightower where she was imprisoned."

"The issue of the Red Rookery has been settled, now, and Ser Osric's death was in the midst of a duel. It was not the cause of mistreatment and cruelty, but the will of the gods. Or if you will not have that, then he was felled in proper battle and knowing well that very risk when he agreed to champion Blackmont's cause. The mess with the Hightower and Oldtown was not helped by the Tyrells or the Oakhearts, but it was not caused by them, either. Please, Daevon. Let us not make villains out of our neighbors. Not when this tangle has so freshly been laid to rest."

"As you say, brother," Daevon replies with a sigh.

"Good," Aevander replies. "Then we are in agreement. More or less. Will you tell me once you've spoken to Bastion?"

Daevon's clearly not in agreement, he's just decided not to argue anymore. He's upset about something, many sometimes undoubtedly and is, as always, absolutely terrible at disguising the fact. "I should."

"Good," Aevander agrees, ignoring Daevon's upset as clearly as Daevon is displaying it. "We should go riding some time, brother. Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?"

"If I have the time," Daevon replies. "I like riding early."

"Early's when I train with Aegon," Aevander replies. "Suppose we could turn it into a riding lesson. Well. Until tomorrow, then." Aevander offers his brother a small smile and slips out.

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