(121-04-17) Plans and New Arrivals
Plans and New Arrivals
Summary: Mariya and Arrick discuss Arros' ransom. Daevon comes to visit and Darius arrives in Oldtown.
Date: 04/17/2014
Related: Ser Tameron's Ransom
Players:
Mariya..Arrick..Daevon..Darius..

White Stone Manse - Starry Street

It is a summer morning. The weather is hot and drizzling.

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.


The meeting with Viggo and Prospero did not go according to plan. And now, Mariya must prepare for her next appointment. Though coming face to face with Viggo and Prospero was nerve wracking enough, this visit will be far more trying as it is with the killer of Osric, Quillian. Mariya has shut herself in a small study near the back of the Manse, running words through her head and pacing. Every once in awhile she shakes her hands, attempting to make them stop shaking.

As the meeting with Viggo and that rather dashing Stormlander Ser Prospero didn't go as planned, Ser Arrick expects to find the smallest princess holed up in her room, cursing Ser Quillian for the very little that he's worth. He knocks loudly only to be told by one of the servants that instead Prince Mariya has holed herself up in a study downstairs. With that knowledge the knight makes his way down and to the rear of the manse where he comes before a small door which he lightly taps on this time, saying softly through the wood, "Little Princess, are you hiding in there?"

It is not overly long before the door is opened for Arrick. Still dressed in mourning clothes, Mariya steps aside to allow the knight to enter. "I'm not hiding," she tells him firmly. "I'm preparing." At the mention of that, she shakes out her hands again. "I must face Ser Quillian and pretend to be polite so that we may get Ser Arros, Dawn and Ser Tameron back without further incident. He's already asked for a heavy ransom for Ser Arros."

The knight steps into the small study and moves to the the table which he then leans against. With a look of wonder upon his face Arrick folds his arms as he ponders the circumstance, he then gives his take after a moment of silence, "You know he can't hurt you? He absolutely won't hurt you." The knight stands tall now, showing his hands, "These hands don't tremble at the thought of a mere man." The knight drops his voice and adds, "But if I thought I could steady you through this, I'd hold your hands through the entire ordeal."

"It's not for my safety that I fear." Mariya can't seem to stop her pacing. "I fear I will lose my temper and attempt to strike him down, though I know that I don't have the skill and I know it would cause a war. Or I shall cause Dawn to be lost to House Dayne forever." As Arrick shows his steady hands, she looks to them, and then up at the man himself, giving him a smile. "I know." The smile fades, though, as she adds, "But, my other fear is of what you will say when you know of my plan."

Arrick's eyes go big as the baby Princess suggests she has a plan, there's only so many plans in this world we live. A plan to deceive, a plan to defy or a plan to kill. Which of these could the smallest Princess have up her sleeve? Arrick tilts his head and says, "I'm listening but do not for a second believe I will let you put yourself in danger. I cannot allow such, for reasons we dare not discuss here."

"As I said, you will not like it, though it involves no danger or bravery. It's not so much a plan as an exchange." Mariya frowns, now clasping her hands in front of her. "I do not have the money for Ser Arros' ransom. Even with what Ser Daevon would lend, I do not think. Ser Osric's procession will leave as soon as we have Dawn and the money from Sunspear won't arrive for awhile yet. Ser Arros should be with Ser Tameron and my sister to escort his kinsman's bones home. He should also not be forced to stay under ransom of a man who wielded Dawn against him. I mean to stay in his place until the money arrives or Ser Arros returns. Which ever comes first. I will not be in danger. They would not dare harm me."

Arrick furrows his brow and says, "I cannot tell you no as you are of royal blood, but with all my heart no. For a Dornish Princess…" Arrick relaxes his face and says slowly, "For YOU to be under the watchful eye of scum like Ser Quillian. If something were to happen there is no way for it to be undone!" Arrick begins pacing the small room, which for him only takes a few steps. He begins talking as he moves back and forth, "I am not the person who decides such but this is madness, where did this plan spring from?"

In a small study toward the back of the Manse, Mariya and Arrick stand, arguing heatedly. Arrick paces, while Mariya has her hands clasped in front of her. "That is precisely why nothing will happen to me. Ser Arros is angered and is more like to attack Ser Quillian than I. I cannot blame him, but should he attack the Blackroot, what then? We'd have more bloodshed. Losing Ser Osric was pain enough, I will not lose Ser Arros as well. He needs time and space. They have not harmed him, they will not harm me. This plan sprung from trying to find what Ser Osric would have wanted. He gave his life for peace. I would not see our grief tear it apart."

Daevon's presence is surely announced. He's empty handed today and still dressed all in black.

The Gargalen knight sighs heavily as he stops pacing and says in an exasperated manner, "You will have it done as you see fit. I had no other reason to defy my father and return to Dorne, I shall stay as well. My brother is likely greeting the procession at Starfall, so my house will be represented whether I am present or not." Arrick's ears perk up as he says, "It seems someone has been announced." The knight opens the door to the study and peers out, listening for the chatter of the servants. After a moment he says back to the Princess, "Your betrothed has arrived."

Mariya watches Arrick for a moment, frown on her face. "But…" The servant who announces Daevon leads him to the back room where the two Dornish are. Though the nerves and adrenaline from defending her plan to Arrick have yet to quite leave her system, the smile she gives Daevon is sincere, if weak. Her hands remain clasped in front of her, sure if she lets them go they will shake. The study is too small to fit all three comfortably, so she moves past the door Arrick has opened to the larger sitting room to greet him. "Ser Daevon, it's good to see you."

"And to see you, Mariya," Daevon replies. "Are you looking after yourself?" he asks, and then. "Have all the prisoners been ransomed yet?" He looks to Arrick, offering the man a nod of greeting but for now he can't even recall if he knows the man's name or not.

Arrick steps from the study and moves into the sitting room offering his own nod as a greeting, not sure if the newly arrived Targaryen knows his name or not. It's not likely to matter as it seems the blonde knight has come not to trade knightly stories with Arrick but to discuss relations with Mariya.

"I went for Ser Tameron yesterday, however he would not leave without Dawn and I would not order him to. It might be only fitting that it is all of them or none. Later today I mean to go to retrieve all of them when I meet with Ser Quillian. I would not hold back the party meant to lay Ser Osric to rest any longer." That question answered, Mariya gestures to Arrick. "Ser Daevon, I am not sure if you've met Ser Arrick? He was in the Trial alongside Ser Osric."

"No, I do not think we've met," Daevon says. "I am sorry to meet you under such difficult circumstances, Ser Arrick." He then nods at Mariya's words. "Are they refusing to hand Dawn over?"

As Mariya introduces him Ser Arrick simply says to the Targaryen, "We haven't and no need to be sorry, this is a tragedy not of your doing." The knight then moves further into the sitting room and takes a seat upon one of the low chairs and listens in.

Mariya's eyes shift between the two at their introduction, but then focus on Daevon so that she may answer his question. "It is not that they refuse. Ser Quillian said he would return Dawn once Ser Tameron's ransom was paid. However, when we went to deliver the gold to Ser Viggo and Ser Prospero they had no knowledge of the exchange, nor did they have the sword with them. I will go today and retrieve it and our knights. I do not know why, but should he now think that he would keep Dawn, he will find himself sorely mistaken."

Daevon nods at Mariya. "He is not a man known for his honour. If you need my assistance then let me know." He just nods at what Arrick says, taking a seat as well.

"No, I will, though, thank you. I do appreciate it." Seeing that the others have seated, Mariya looks at a chair but does not sit. "I'll stand, if you do not mind. I find myself pacing and would work off the energy before I must see him. I would not have him think me nervous or a quivering Dornishwoman before his supposed might."

"You're not," Daevon says. "He will see the Regal Princess that you are. Would you rather go outside into the garden, perhaps?"

Outside a small train of men and baggage have arrived , coming into the forecourt before the Manse. Sounds given as Men At arms call out in greeting, before the main doors open and servants are seen to be scurrying outside into the day, while others might be moving to the windows to look expectantly. It seems just a lone knight-and what would normally serve as accompaniment, though House colours are not displayed as there is no lone banner with this particular entourage.
Soon enough though the soft clink of armor and scuffle of boots would be heard as the man comes in, with squire and page trailing, the others seeing to the horses and likewise other effects. His hands slide to remove helm, and the blue rich garment that covers with it, taken off gingerly, before he is turning to the page, and passing it off. "Once are rooms are decided, my son-Make sure you help the others in making them comfortable-and our things put away. Then you can explore the grounds, but go no further." Darius intones before he is looking to the main stairwell. Brows shoot up, as he lazily stalks further in.

"I am, though," Mariya gives a soft, surprised laugh. She glances at the seated Arrick, but then nods at the offer of moving to the garden. "I am nervous that I will forget myself and attack him, despite knowing it would do nothing other than cause more harm. I mean to ensure there is no more trouble, not cause more." Moving toward the garden, the woman is just in time to catch Darius' entrance. With his helm off, she can recognize him. "Cousin!" she greets.

Upon hearing the cry of cousin, Darius turns in that direction, which also brings a rather huge flashing smile in return. "Little Sun." he calls back, as arms open wide, and his swagger abates into easy motion in Mariya's direction. Should she come to him, she will find herself drawn up into a tight embrace and a kiss to the corners of her mouth. A greeting fit someone well loved. "It seems I have come at a good time-no one hurled stones or insults as I rode in." Teeth flashed as he clicks his tongue. The eyes roaming of a man, is then the next gift given to the princess. "You are growing as ever beautiful as your mother." A wink slid out before he takes a steadying breath. "But enough of me showering you in kind words. Let me know your heart, and how you are doing?"

It takes only a few moments of realizing that Darius is actually there before Mariya quickly moves forward, arms outstretched. Despite her mourning clothes and her nerves, for the moment they are put aside to greet a favored family member. "It is good to see you, Darius." She squeezes him close during their hug and continues to keep a hold of his arms once they are separated. "I would argue with you as for your good timing as well as your placating compliments." The teasing smile she shares with him fades at the question as to her heart and her wellbeing. "It is heavy, cousin."

Daevon's hanging back, a shadow trying not to intrude on this reunion.

"Little Sun.." Darius says with a small frown of concern growing. "Is your heart heavy, because of the loss of a trial? Or is it because the loss of a man?" A question asked, before he is bringing a hand up to let thumb swipe at her cheek. It is a rough and calloused thing, but then Darius Yronwood was not made for softness. "I will let you argue though.." he says, drawing back to that. "I have come ahead of a party from Sunspear, which should be here in a week or more time. Perhaps sooner if my messenger leaves early enough. We decided to keep the main party back, just in case the dragon that was here was not enough to soothe hearts." A deep breath taken. "I hope I am not interrupting you?"

Daevon's watching Darius with those amethyst eyes of his. Targaryen's truly are not made to blend in and he certainly doesn't, not even wearing all black as he is. There's just the slightest glimmer of, is that hope perhaps, in his eyes as a party from Sunspear is spoken of.

"It is mostly for Ser Osric," Mariya admits. "My sister grieves deeply for her loss. So, I grieve the loss of a good man as well as for the pain my sister feels." Finally, the princess steps back from Darius, the fondness for the man clear in her eyes. "I thank you, cousin, for arriving so quickly. It really is so good to see you." And speaking of a dragon, there is one standing behind them. "Darius, you met Ser Daevon while he was in Sunspear, yes? We were just on our way to the garden. Please join us, if you're not too tired from your journey."

"I should pay a visit to your sister, and see if I cannot help." Whatever way a Dornishman helps a grieving woman. Arms fold at his chest and he offers his own smile, though light and not reaching. "And it is good to see you. I just wish it was under better circumstances." Upon though being introduced to Daevon, there a more skeptical eye is given. "Ah, this would be the Dragon you are promised to?" He knows things, Ser Darius Yronwood does. As to her question a nod is given. "Yes, if you could have someone bring wine, or a bit of something cool to drink. My throat is dry from the road." A nod is given to Daevon. "I believe you once resided with us, yes?"

"For a few months, yes," Daevon replies. "And yes." He's quiet though, since it really was Mariya that was addressed.

"Of course. I am sure she would appreciate it." Mariya starts to move toward the garden, but it would seem that there are still appraisals and meetings to finish. She watches Darius sizing up Daevon with a cautious reminder of, "Yes, he is. You would well remember him after the service he did me and our family." Trusting the two to get on well for a moment without her, she readjusts her destination. "I'll speak with a servant to bring some drink and maybe some cheese and meet you both in the garden?" With a warning look shot to Darius to be kind to Daevon, she rounds a corner to do as she said she would.

"Hair like milk and skin like honey. I wonder at the taste." Darius says with a faint glance and an amused look towards Mariya. Though beyond that brief little slip of words, there's not much else. Instead he nods to Daevon. "It was. I remember you. A cousin of ours you had your eyes on-when there were brighter jewels and light within our court." A cough and he is nodding to the Targaryen. "But here you are now. Quite alive and well. And with hair as milk and skin as honey."

"Fruit please, if there is any on offer," Daevon asks, following along. "Princess Shadi. How is she?" Princess Shadi, bold, fierce, a fighter if not a looker, who'd never shown any interest in men before or since. "Mariya was young." As was he. "And now here we are, all grown up, and pledged to wed. I'm glad that you're here for her."

"She is well. I believe she has married a man from Hellolt." he rolls out before looking back towards Daevon a faint smirk there-as it would be hard to tell if the Black Viper was toying with him or being honest. Still he nods as they reach the entryway to the garden. Allowing Daevon to head out first. "So she was. And now she is grown into a fine beauty. Worthy of a good man who will give her children." A nod there. "Good. I am glad I am here as well. Perhaps I could have staved off what saw a beloved man of our country, killed." And there Darius extends his arm. "After you."

Daevon's eyes widen with surprise at that news. "She has? Oh, that's wonderful." He walks first, gazing around the garden. He nods. "Worthy of love. Worthy of being able to return to Sunspear, marry a dornishman, and live a life free of all the pain here. I would not want her to remain, not how this place is crushing her. It will always be a fight, here. People and their cruel words and crueller thoughts." He sighs, looking guilty. "It would have been good if you'd been able to."

"People will be cruel, ever." Darius responds as he steps out behind Daevon into the light of day. A sigh and he is moving to adjust and remove his sword belt, before looking for where he will be sitting himself. At least here the summer feels cooler than back home-and thus warm weather is tolerable, if not a bit of respite. "But, you should not rise to words. Actions? Yes." he adds before taking a seat one one of the chairs left out here, his sword to wait to the side. "I should have sent for my squire.." he muses idly. "But-yes. actions always beget answers. Not words. Words make you less if you stoop to acknowledging them. And here in the reach. If you are Dornish-you will not hear kind words."

"There is little kindness for the Dornish here," Daevon agrees. "Not in words, not in actions." He takes a seat as well. "And it's not the sort of foe that can be defeated with a blade, mores the pity."

Though a servant brings a tray of cheese, with bread and fruit, Mariya holds the tray with the pitcher of wine and cups. Carefully, she picks her way through the garden to find a table to set the goods on and gives a glance to Daevon to make sure that Darius has not been teasing him too much. First, she pours a glass for her cousin and hands it to him. Then, another for Daevon. She does not take one for herself. "I am not quite so sure, cousin. There are certainly things I have heard that might require an answer not of words, but of action."

"It is a mutual hate. I would not stress upon it." Darius says, before he is looking up and there he raises a hand in Mariya's direction before he is stretching out his leags-slouching further into the chair. "And what things have you heard, Little Sun?" A tilt of his head there. As she can see, Daevon is not crying, so likely Darius is on his best behavior for meeting new northron fiances.

"Thank you," Daevon says as Mariya brings the fruit. He's quiet once more, thoughtful, certainly not crying.

Perhaps assuming that Darius would not make her betrothed cry - or that Daevon would be able to withstand whatever words Darius would send his way - Mariya takes a seat. "Of course," she tells Daevon, plucking a slice of apple. "They cheered over his death, cousin. I know not the words that could answer that. Nor do I truly know the actions, but I find I wish I did."

Daevon dips his head down as Mariya speaks of them cheering Osric's death, his words quiet as he speaks. "They cheered the death of an enemy and the victory of their champions. They knew not Ser Osric nor his deeds. I know that does not ease the pain though, nor does it make things excusable."

Darius looks back towards Mariya. "If this happened in Sunspear our people-our small folk would cheer if a great enemy went down, regardless of the cause." And there he drums his fingers along the wooden arm support of his chair. "Your fiance speaks the truth. Were there more truth to this-I would see that truth executed and all justice complete. But, Ser Osric knew the risk of being there and fighting. It does our mourning no good to speak ill of it." Quiet for a moment Darius watches both Prince and Princess. As wine is then taken, he uses this lapse in conversation to drink. "But things will change, and kinsmen will be avenged."

"The bloodshed should stop," Daevon says. "The trial of the seven should be the end of it, not the beginning of yet more vengeance taken. Ser Osric's death should not be in vain, and he died to prevent a war taking place. If his death is avenged the blood will never stop. I would suspect that all that must be done is wait, and a further insult will present itself."

"There is a difference between cheering for your warriors and to thinking his death an honor for the Reach." No matter how often Mariya will speak of it, she will not be swayed. "Ser Osric died to preserve the peace and I will not mar it, but they…they think it means themselves beyond reproach. That their attitudes toward the Dornish are justified. I simply cannot stand it." Just as soon as she sat, Mariya stands. "Forgive me, Ser Daevon, cousin. I must go soon to meet with Ser Quillian. I think I would rest beforehand."

Darius looks to Daevon. "If you think, I am talking about blood in the streets, then you are sadly mistaken." An amused look is given Daevon before he is glancing briefly to Mariya. "Action is not always in the here and now. Sometimes one needs to learn control." And there he is looking back to the Targaryen prince. "Specially before one's wedding day." And as Mariya rises up, so does Darius, a nod given as his cup is left ot hang in his hand at his waist. "Of course. And I will need to rest as well. It is a rough road, to Oldtown."

"You are strong, Mariya," Daevon says. "And I know that you will do well in facing him. My thoughts will be with you even if I cannot." He shakes his head. He looks at Darius, quizically. "What do you mean?"

"Thank you," Mariya gives Daevon a smile. To Darius, she smiles. "I'm glad you are here, Darius. I hope you rest well. I am sure to see you soon."

"If you do not know, Prince Daevon." Darius says, with a faint smirk. "Then I would write your father. I am not the man to give that talk to you." And with that he is taking another drink of his wine, before he is excusing himself from the garden. A light chuckle echoing in his cup, as boots softly signal his scuffling away.
Darius pages: I should be on tonight to do the trade over.

Daevon's left utterly baffled by Darius' statements. With Darius having left though he rises to his own feet in order to bid his farewells and then return home.

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