(121-04-28) Finger Food
Finger Food
Summary: Having arrived in Oldtown, after settling in, Alia and Alaeyna share some nibbles.
Date: 28 April 2014
Related: Throwing Knives

White Stone Manse
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 weather in Oldtown is decidedly different to Dorne; whilst the heat of summer still permeates, it is oppressive and humid, no less so when the day is overcast. As dusk winds into evening and later again, the new arrivals at the White Stone Manse have had a chance to see their horses stabled in a reputable place, be greeted and wash up. Some have even had dinner. Others have sated other appetites that the long trip has stirred, and Alia arrives unattended in the main hall from her newfound quarters above it, pink-cheeked and dewy, with a lazily pleased expression on her face. She descends the grand staircase with slow, suave steps, one. After. The other, hand trailing down the bannister.

Alaeyna is luxuriating languidly upon a lounger in the hall in just a wisp of a silk dress, the contented, faraway smile on her face and the langour of her limbs speaking to which of her appetites has most recently been sated. She tosses her head back at the sound of someone on the stairs, looking upside down at Alia, and manages to lift an arm in her direction, her hand extended as if with yearning. "There you are," she says in a low drawl, but otherwise making no move to rise from her wanton repose.

Under her golden satiny robe that trails along the floor behind her, Alia has at least the propriety to have donned a slip, all ivory lace and silk in the inappropriate places. She is bereft of jewelry to clink as she walks, regarding Alaeyna with a cant of her own head, long curls tumbling forward. "Yes," she agrees languidly, "Here I am, my love. Did you miss me so terribly as all that, hmm?" Over she sweeps, silk and satin rustling, to take that hand and press a soft, sensual kiss to the solar of her palm.

"Stronger words than terribly spring to mind," answers Alaeyna with a sigh as her palm is kissed, thereafter catching the edge of Alia's fine silk robe between her fingertips. She gives it a gentle pull, to draw her closer, rousing herself enough as to allow her to offer Alia a kiss of greeting, a tender brush of her lips that demonstrate further how pleased she is to have her company. "Lorenzo has taken to bed, and I've no idea where my brother is. I'm perishing of hunger but lack the strength to move from this very spot." Her words may be wildly dramatic, but that Oldtown heat is oppressive and the day has been long.

Closer she comes, of course, at Alaeyna's bidding, kissed tenderly for her obedience. Alia murmurs a sweet sound of approval into the other woman's lips, laughing low as she seats herself on the lounger next to her as she drawls, "Is that right, darling? This is wildly inappropriate — what sorcery prevents the servants serving, hmm?"

Alaeyna gathers herself up when she's joined on the lounger, curling her legs beneath her that Alia might sink in close by her side. As luck would have it, one of the household staff happens to enter the room as if summoned by Alia's very whim. And he bears wine. This pleases Alaeyna greatly, and when the goblets are offered the two of them, she wastes no time in plucking one from the proffered tray, suddenly having found her strength. She confesses to the retainer, "We've but been in Oldtown for a handful of hours, and yet I find myself longing for a taste of Dorne."

"Mmm, I like this one," murmurs Alia, slanting a lewd look up and down the retainer as she secures a cup for herself. "Many thanks, my darling," says she, lifting it to toast him for his efforts. She drinks, only lightly, her free hand wandering to find Alaeyna's waist, sliding there comfortably. "It is not just me, my love? The weather here, the air is harder to breathe, no?"

With a dutiful and deferential cant of his head, the servant retreats to fetch sustenance, managing to maintain his composure despite being sized up unabashedly by the pair of them. "Very pleasing," Alaeyna agrees, both about him and the wine, which she drinks as heartily as if it were water. She melts into Alia's side, letting her head rest on the other woman's shoulder. "I feel it too," she agrees, her tone ponderous. "It's heavy, almost." The retainer returns with a platter of finger foods, which he lays upon a low table before them. Alaeyna rewards him with a silky smile, taking up a wedge of a peeled blood orange and biting into it with relish.

Alia tilts her head to meet Alaeyna's on her shoulder affectionately, watching the servant go. "Mmm, hmmm," she can't help but to approve some more, lending a squeeze that would otherwise be delivered to his backside, to her lover's waist instead. "The town is not even pretty," she complains, ungraciously, "But I have heard that the dolphins play out in the sound. We should go to see them sometime, my love, don't you think?"

Alaeyna reaches for another section of the orange, this time offering it to Alia, generously holding it to her lush lips. "Do they?" she asks with interest, when dolphins are mentioned. "I should like to see that." Nuzzled in against Alia's shoulder, she muses aloud, "Pretty? Perhaps not. But so large. I wonder how many must keep residence here? It must be… how many times the size of Sunspear's shadow city, do you think?"

"Mmm," Alia murmurs again, parting her lips for a suck on the orange's deep red flesh. She doesn't eat it, as much as suck it dry and spit it out. "I will take you," she vows, of seeing the dolphins at play. But — "The shadow city? Ay, me, I could not tell you, darling. Many times, this city is large, with the manses all bumped up together, wall to wall. The maesters train here, I should like to see their Citadel, hmm? And that lovely tower that spikes up into the sky, we ought to find ourselves some excuse to visit them, too." She turns her face to place a sticky kiss to Alaeyna's hair, smiling all the while. "We will make the most of our visits, won't we?"

Alaeyna kisses the tips of her fingers, slick as they are with the sweet juice of the orange. She smiles lazily as Alia enumerates the list of things they'll do and see. She ventures to add an item of her own to the itinerary, sobering from her languid haze as she does so. "And we should visit the grounds where the trial was had and spill some strongwine for my cousin." She revels in the kiss like a kitten, turning when Alia does to catch her eye. Of making the most of their visit, she says, "I'd expect no less of us."

"We will honor him properly, no less, my love," Alia promises solemnly in her Rhoynish lilted drawl, her smile waning for the saying so. She plants further kisses on Alaeyna, on her forehead as it turns, down her temple, delicately on her cheek, all traces of stickiness gone by then. "I look forward to every moment, darling, but I am impatient to see my sisters again. Little Mariya is captive, it bothers me so much, hmm? We must rally Ellia soon, we cannot spill wine for Osric without her."

Alaeyna downs the rest of her wine in a fluid draught to mark her cousin's memory, leaning away from Alia for the briefest of moments to set the goblet down alongside the tray bearing their private finger feast. She plucks up a few olives, tossing them into her mouth one at a time as she settles back in against Alia. She receives each kiss with a quiet murmur of appreciation. Giving voice to the reality of the reasons that have drawn them to Oldtown only strengthens her resolve to see their business done. Of Mariya, she says, "She won't be for much longer, now that we've arrived. For each hour our sweet princess has been captive, let's help her to create thrice as many new memories before we return to Dorne." She sighs to think on Ellia's plight, but when she speaks, her tone is fierce. "What strength I have is hers to draw from."

More kisses follow, planted wherever she can land them — a shoulder, her waist as she bends, shoulder again, to the cheek as she feasts and speaks. Alia smiles gently, pausing in her attentions to press the expression to Alaeyna's neck, nuzzling in close. "I haven't seen her for some time," she admits of her smaller sister, every word spoken softly against skin. "I think you are right, my love, it is the least I can offer her. And Ellia, my poor namesake…" Deft hands move as she draws her face away, seeking to forcibly turn Alaeyna's own to it. "Those are strong words, darling. I only hope Ellia sees the will behind them in her grief."

Alaeyna is pliant in Alia's hands, her flesh bidden by the heat of their bond to indulge each last whim exerted upon it. That Alia sees the authenticity and gravity of her pledge only further cements her conviction, and when the head of House Fowler sets her mind to something, there's not much to be done to undo it. "You're her blood. You can divert her from her grief."

"I will do as I can for your words, my love," Alia vows again, each word delivered closer to Alaeyna's lips as she leans in to kiss her soundly, hands still planted on each cheek. She takes her time to assure her lady love, with the gentle touch of mouth to mouth and the soft invasion of her tongue, before drawing back to guide her forehead to hers. "You are so beautiful when you speak with your passions so, Alaeyna," she whispers, lashes fluttering lazily over her deep brown eyes.

When Alia leans in, Alaeyna sways to meet her, returning the sound kiss with an eager fluency borne of the chemistry that ever seems to crackle between them. Her teeth capture Alia's lower lip as she eases out of the kiss, scoring it with a love nip as their foreheads find each other. Through a fringe of dark lashes, Alaeyna meets the molten stare of the beauty opposite her, heat rising in her cheeks with a fierce sort of pride summoned up by the the whispered words. Her palms resting on each of Alia's thighs, she leans ever nearer, as if intoxicated, to steal another sensual kiss. Her palms curl into fists that bunch the silk robe with the sort of insistence that implies she'd rather see the garment shed than worn, and when she whispers in reply, there's an intense yearning in her tone. "Come upstairs with me. The bed Lorenzo and I are sharing has room enough for three."

"He is such an incorrigible man," she laughs lowly in response, pressing close again to smile against Alaeyna's lips. "Let us adjourn, then, my love, but he will regret every kiss of yours he steals from me." Alia's eyes flash wickedly, and like a leopard she springs, up and away off the lounge catching her lover's hand to drag her with.

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