(121-04-20) The Wrong Princess
The Wrong Princess
Summary: Daevon and Arrick meet on the river road and Arrick looks for answers to some burning questions.
Date: 20/04/2014
Related: none

River Road The Reach
Sun Apr 20, 121 ((Sun Apr 20 14:15:19 2014))
It is a summer day. The weather is hot and raining.

The River Road follows the Honeywine North, exiting Oldtown through the Honey Gates. Eventually it passes through Honeyholt and continues, to terminate at Brightwater Keep. It's not as wide and well travelled as the Roseroad, and often goods and travelers choose that longer, but smoother, route.

Farms and vineyards dot the countryside on either side of the river, interspersed between meadows and lightly wooded areas. Nearer the farm-villages one is liable to encounter herders tending goats, sheep, cattle, swine or geese, but enough of the land is untenanted that one might hunt (if one has the Hightowers' permission or is willing to go without), ride, or swim, or otherwise enjoy the countryside in relative privacy.

Daevon's out riding today, both he and his horse letting off steam as if they can simply gallop away from their troubles. He's riding his sand-steed, a striking, beautiful horse (if rather high-spirited), all gleaming gold and silver maned.

Arrick had business to attend to on Hightower Street earlier today and after he planned on taking his newly acquired tournament horse to be worked outside the city. After a bit of hard riding, the Dornish knight is just returning, taking a hard left down the river road. As the knight is trotting down the way he spots the unmistakable sign of a Targaryen, atop of a Dornish horse no less, he waves the man down as he brings his horse to a short stop.

Daevon and horse match, from that mix of silver and gold, to the striking eyes each possess. He's lightly armoured, in leather, the horse is not. He slows his horse, raising a hand in greeting. "Good day."

The Dornish knight wipes a bit of sweat from his brow with his raised hand and says as he lowers it to his lap, "A good day for a ride." Arrick pats his horse behind the ears, causing it to bristle a bit, which is quickly reigned in. Arrick's gaze then turns to the Targaryen he waved down and he gets to the point, not offering any formal greeting, "I must say, you are already impressing the assembly of Dornishmen in Oldtown! Arrick's mouth turns to a smirk, bordering a sneer, as he adds, "By allowing our Princess be taken hostage so soon after the announcement!"

Daevon's eyes narrow, perhaps it's the sunlight, perhaps that's a trace of irritation. It's a sore subject for him, clearly. "Do you think it sits any easier with me, to have her held prisoner as such? If it were my choice I would not have her held in any cage. I would ride up to Garden Isle, and bang on their door, sword in hand demanding her release if I thought it would do any good. I would offer myself in her place if I thought that they would accept."

Arrick stands in the saddle and peers down at the other knight, looking to be annoyed, "If the world was turned about and it was one of their most precious, taken hostage by a Dornishman or a man of the Crownlands, I think the vile creatures she is suffering among would do exactly that." It seems this subject has hit Arrick equally hard, the Dornish in Oldtown can only worry as one of their royals has been caged by none other than the man who killed one of Dorne's greatest knights.

"I know," Daevon says. "Do you think Mariya would welcome such a rescue? It would force her to go back on her word. She had better be being kept in far better conditions than their other guests were. You're right though, I should be there, making things difficult for them, making sure she is being treated well." He starts to turn his horse around. "I should have known she was already being held."

Arrick sits down in the saddle and lightly spurs his own horse onward, riding alongside the Targaryen seated atop a sand steed. Keeping his head straight the Gargalen ponders aloud, "Does your lack of concern for her wellbeing among vile men have anything to do with the fact that Princess Mariya is NOT the Princess you wished to bring back from Dorne?" Arrick keeps looking ahead, asking the question rather matter-of-factly, as if the question was rooted in truth rather than curiosity.

Daevon shakes his head at Arrick. "You think that I am not concerned for her wellbeing? What would you have me do? I never wished to bring any Princess back from Dorne."

With wonder still present in his voice Arrick says to the Targaryen, "But here you are Prince, after your great moment as a savior in Dorne, with Dornish Princess in hand!" The Dornishman laughs a moment and says, "Well, it seems as of this moment, the Reachmen have the Princess, but I find the situation interesting!" Arrick's eyes go from the road ahead to Daevon and he says having lost the laugh in his throat, "Less than week after the Princess you /did not want/ and /do not desire/ becomes your betrothed, she finds herself locked away by the very man who killed someone she idolized and loved." Arrick squirms at that last piece of his sentence as all Dornishmen and women alike idolized Ser Osric.

"I was not a saviour in Dorne," Daevon points out. "I was a hostage. I was held there for months, not what shall be a week. We both chose our prisons. It is very rare that any Prince gets to marry for want or for desire. Surely you know the very purpose of this marriage has little to do with either me or Mariya. Mariya agreed to be held so that Arros might walk free. How would you have me rectify it?"

Tightly holding his reigns for a moment the Dornish knight maneuvers through a small patch of smallfolk selling wares, crowding the road with their wagons and mules. The two horses become separated causing Arrick to call out above the crowd, "You're a knight, a Targaryen Prince and a man who most seem to revere! You shall find a way or what good are any of those things if not ways to have your wishes realized!?!" The Gargalen halts his horse as the pair move apart, Arrick's eyes stay focused on the blonde-haired prince as he continues down the river road.

Daevon doesn't call out, in fact he quietens, waiting until they've passed by the merchants and their wagons. "You will not be the first or last to say such things." He shakes his head. "And I am not a Knight, nor a Targaryen Prince in order to have my own wishes realised. I live to serve others. But here, in this city there is forever politics at play and I cannot solve my problems with a blade. Mariya is far more politically astute than I shall ever be. I have been working on her release, but it is not an easy thing to accomplish."

Ser Arrick frowns at the Maiden Knight's rather reserved demeanor and calls above the crowd again, "With the connections you have in this city and beyond, I can only hope that you work harder ser!" With that said the Dornish knight turns his horse away and begins moving in the opposite direction, back towards the merchants spread across the road.

Daevon just keeps on riding, back to the city. He doesn't even bother to call out.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License