(121-04-28) In A Gadda Da Vida
In a Gadda da Vida
Summary: Daevon and Yael have words in the garden.
Date: 28/04/2014
Related: Secret Arrivals

Daevon's asked to speak with Yael, somewhere she may feel comfortable. His own spot of preference tends to be the gazebo with its stifling heat, but it's a seat nearby he's at, sipping lemon water, picking at fruit.

It takes some time for a servant to fetch Yael, her red gown appearing and disappearing within fiery blooms that lurk in the garden proper. The sun blossoms on the horizon in its own fiery glow.Arms bared to the lingering sun and a snake wrapped around her shoulders, she strides towards the gazebo in a burst of colour. The gown Elionys gifted her with cut to more sensual tastes than the poised lady, now that the alterations are done. No more the battered woman she was, Yael looks every bit a Lady of Dorne with her skirts whispering along the ground. "Prince Daevon," she greets lowly,

"Lady Yael," Daevon replies. "Please, join me. Help yourself to lemon water and fruit if you wish. That's a lovely dress you're wearing. How have you been?"

"My pleasure," Yael says, pausing to help herself to a little of the lemon water and leaving the fruit alone. "My thanks. Your cousin, I believe, the Princess Elionys is graced with both exquisete taste and immeasurable kindness." Her dark eyes glint with delight, sliding a hand over the curve of her hip as she seats herself. "She was so good enough to offer me several gowns as a gift so that I might properly be clothed." Pausing, she takes a sip of the lemon water and watches him over the rim. "Anxious for news, but in entirely better circumstances when last I was a guest of a house in your kingdom."

"I believe the Dornish Delegation arrived today with the ransoms," Daevon says. "Which should mean your husband will be free in short measure." He takes another sip of his drink. "My family do not believe I should be keeping you here in secret. They believe I should…" he sighs. "You're my guest and I offered you my protection. I want for nothing more than to discover who massacred Wickhams Nest and abducted you, make them pay for their crimes, and ensure that you return safely home."

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing him soon," Yael confesses with quiet calm, not at all the giddy love a woman truely eager. Hand moving in a circle, she allows her lemon water to swirl about in the glass as she watches him with sharp interest. "…but your family does not?" She questions.

"They think the matter settled with the trial," Daevon says. "That I am a fool, for seeing a greater conspiracy here. That I'm only seeing what I want to see. They would rather I hand you over to the Hightowers, or proclaim to all that you are a guest here. I am concerned for your safety. But, you're perfectly capable of deciding for yourself your own course of action."

"I cannot council you on what to choose for your house," Yael offers firstly, reclining one of the benches so that her hand curves around the back of it. "You realize, Prince Daevon, that I know little of the situation here to make my choices uninformed. Your servants are not much help with their gossip — swept up in the most recent tourney as they were… It is apaprently some mystery knight was dashing," she adds dryly, lifting her brows at him. "Should I be concerned for my safety?"

"I know," Daevon says. "I expect you only to choose what is best for yourself." He's thoughtful at her question. "I do not know. There are those who think you to blame for the massacre. Who think you in league with the men who attacked. I believe that they would wish for revenge upon you and little could be said to sway them otherwise. So, yes, I think you should be concerned for your safety. People will want answers. You will be questioned. But it may not be as bad as I fear. I think safer now than when you first arrived, since there will be ransoms paid and you will have fellow countrymen to turn to."

Mouth pursing in thought, Yael's snake hisses as its mistress's shoulders tense in a barometer of mood unspoken. Lifting her dark eyed gaze from the floor, she regards Daevon bluntly. "You do know with such an attitude, should work arise you will seen complicit in hiding me? It would not make you a hero in the eyes of your people." Strumming her fingers on the glass, she continues. "What do they say I have done?"

"I had a dream of you," Daevon says softly. "I knew that you were alive. I should have searched harder. But I failed. Yes, I am aware that it will win me little love having you here. I think that a small price to pay for your safety. You have needed time to recover from all that you have endured." He shakes his head. "A jealous lover of yours was responsible for the attack, or your husband, or someone you slighted. How did you survive when all others died. They think you complicit in what happened. How were there men ready and able to attack."

"You dreamt to me?" There is a hint of smoke to Yael's voice, accompanied by a rise to her brow. "…yet you and I had never spoken, at least to my recollection." Her finger tip slides around the rim of her glass, circling it once and again. A sigh pushes away the most of her intrigue, head lilting to the side lazily. "All perfectly reasonable, but none the truth. A city burned and my husband came to seek justice and lost in the eyes of the seven. It was not a jealous lover." The metal rings clean and clear as she taps it with a nail. "You would be wise to frame the reveal. Write it poised as if you did find me, as if it was a dream and a truth and vision and reveal it to be so. You are Targaryen. Your people would believe you."

"I dream true," Daevon says. "And the Maiden guides me. There is truth in what is said. I would not wish to do anything to endanger you. How did you escape them? Did they let you go?"

Yael laughs darkly, the breadth of her smile alight her features so broadly that her laughter seems beatific. "Of course they did not let me go," she corrects, leaning forward to smile more softly at him. "I conceived a plan to kil lthem and then escaped. I came by my injuries honestly, but the other option was my own death."

"You killed them?" Daevon asks.

"Yes," Yael says simply, taking another drink of the lemon-water.

"How?" Daevon asks his first question and then. "Do you know where the bodies are?"

"Why would I know where the bodies are? I ran and could not find my way back if I tried. The trees all look the same here," Yael says, frowning at one of the trees past the walls of the gazebo. "With luck." His first question is answered last.

Daevon nods. "How long did you run for? Hours? Days? Where was it that you were being held?"

"Days," Yael says slowly, frowning at the last. "I told you, I don't know. It was a small house in the woods."

"It's okay," Daevon says. "Enough questions. If you can remember anything else would you write it down for me? I'm going to have to take a trip out and see if I can find it."

"Prince Daevon…I can try. I have no idea of my heading or where I was, I did not think to look. I simply ran and continued to run, likely in circles, until I saw the peaks of mountains," Yael offers, words coming in slow consideration tinged with regret. "It was very green. The trees, that which I saw were tall and strong. There were snakes and wild flowers. I do not know your country well beyond the necks of its mountains."

"I understand," Daevon says. "I am not very good at asking these sorts of questions. Would you speak to my brother, perhaps, about how best to reveal your presence? I think you right, in that speaking of my dreams."

Yael bows her head gracefully, offering him a smile. "I am not well at answering them, what little I know of the woods comes from the hunt and the hawk. I am no navigator." Lifting her glass, she takes a sip of the lemonwater. "I could."

"Thank you," Daevon says. "He will be most pleased." He nods. "Our woods here are quite different from Dorne."

"What brother is this? I do not think I have had cause to meet him yet?" Yael wonders. The lattter statement simply carners a nod.

"Aevander," Daevon says. "He's my older brother. He's far better at… well thinking." He smiles. "And politics. And knowing how things should be done."

"Not every man can be a knight gifted by dreams," Yael opines lightly, adding weight to the words despite their airiness. "I shall speak with him at his leisure. Come now, tell me of this tournament…" On to lighter subjects they might speak, finishing off the lemon water.

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