(121-05-07) A Dragon Comes To Nest
A Dragon Comes To Nest
Summary: On a quiet night just before a storm, Lady Nerissa encounters Ser Aerys in the Lower Gardens for a brief discussion of age, Elionys, and family.
Date: May 7, 2014
Related: None
Players:
Nerissa..Aerys..

With evening storms comes rushes of cool air and the roll of thunder. Fantastical shows of lightening off in the distance coloring the night sky. The moon itself shines enough light to add to the majesty of it all. For those staying or living in the spanse of the Hightower, they are lucky to enjoy a front row seat. Outside in the aptly named lovers garden-along one of the dawdling winding paths, sits one lone figure clothed in crimson and sable. His back is to the tower itself, as by an abandoned game table he sits. Wine on hand as eyes watch the clouds. A lazy smile planted on lips, before they claim silver cup and red arbor wine.

Prince Aerys is a man that enjoys simple, yet fine things. And it seems the Smith had deemed this night to be his to enjoy.

The faint sound of footsteps upon the path and rustling of skirts whispers upon the breeze to announce the presence of the Valerian blonde even long before she can be seen - the young noblewoman clearly doing little to mask her approach. Arms laden with several gowns, Nerissa's steps slow to a definite stop as she closes her eyes and tilts her head back a bit to embrace the cool rushes of air upon her face. Though the rain has yet to commence, she can clearly smell it upon the air - heaving a soft sigh. Once more, this time with a bit of reluctance, her feet begin their motion as she tries to navigate her way through the courtyard without a hitch.

The fact the young noblewoman appears to be alone, unaccompanied by guard or servant might seem a bit peculiar - then again it may also account for the fact the Celtigar is engaged in a menial task often reserved for those indentured to servitude as well.

It reminds one of home, the looks and smell. Though he is not of Celtigar, he himself grew up on Dragonstone and would oft spend his time watching the storms roll in, when he was not utterly fascinated with his own dragon's egg-or other duties. At the sound of skirts and rustling, Aerys' attention is piqued from the storm, and he turns his head ever briefly, but without seeing anyone. "Malon?" his youngest squire and likely someone who should be minding other things. "Did you come to bring me another flagon? I swear I've all but licked this one dry." he adds wryly before holding out his cup. "Once it's poured you can leave it. Storm's not rolled in yet-and I mean to see completion."

Little does the Prince know, that no Darklyn boy hangs behind him, but something of a fairer trade.

The sound of the voice gives the younger Celtigar a start as her eyes widen, clearly uncertain as to how to handle the situation. Her gaze darts quickly to the side, taking note of her own lack of companions as she tries to run over all the various scenarios and reprimands due to her in mind in rapid succession. It takes no more than the passing of a few seconds in reality, though eons in Nerissa's own head before she lowers her burdens to rest upon the nearby bench before creeping her way on closer to the saucing knight. Still being very careful to keep out of Aerys' sight, she musters her best rendition of male gruffness in reply, "Aye…"

Eyes search the gardens desperately in search of something to use. Spotting a vase she quickly dashes over to rip the flowers on out and hurries back. The scent of the remaining liquid inside /might/ be enough to pass off as some measure of alcohol, especially if one is inebriated enough - and thankfully the carafe-shaped vase is opaque enough and designed in such a way it could double as a flagon… if not too well-scrutinized. Inhaling deeply in silence, the young Celtigar tips the vase slightly to refill the contents of his cup - biting her lower lip in silent prayer her deception goes… unnoticed.

The reply and the time it comes has the Prince freezing, before he's turning his head. Luckily, Nerissa is but obscured before he is looking back to the light show. "I say, your voice fine boy? You're not coming down with anything are you?" asked before he hears the pouring. A frown showing there, before the cup is pulled back. "If so, I'll send you to the Maester right quick. I don't need sickness spreading-though likely it's something in the air." he adds without forethought before glass is tipped into his mouth and he drinks deeply.

Sputtering and coughing, water shoots back up before his hand is to his throat. The cup dropped as the dragon struggles to his feet. "You bastard" comes in a fit of coughing, hacking and some laughter-though some anger shows through. Eyes closed Aerys coughs further until a bit of leaf is spat out into his hand. "What in the Stranger's name is this? Leaves, water?!" Almost surprisingly the nectar of life needed is the thing he is most put out about. "Th' Seven hells' lad I should whip you soundly with a switch.." And there he turns, and catches sight of someone who is clearly not Malon.

And much more attractive.

"What's this?" says, the Prince. "You're no Malon."

The reply all but makes the younger woman pause as eyes widen in that brief moment of panic. In an effort to try and sell the lie, she fakes a cough… or two… followed by another grunt. Men grunt all the time, right? When the elder Prince takes the cup to his lips and draws deeply of the contents, Nerissa lets out a silent sigh of relief - apparently in the clear. Unfortunately then comes the sputtering and the spitting of leaves and before she knows it, she's fighting hard not to burst into laughter.

It takes every measure of her restraint to bite back the laughter as the Targaryen turns upon her - her own cheeks flushing brightly. No, she's clearly not Malon. In fact, there is no denying she is anything but female from head to toe. Taking a moment to compose herself, Nerissa adds in a light voice faintly tinted with amusement, "I am sorry Ser Aerys, I could not find Malon… but if it helps, I am fairly certain you have managed to remove all the leaves from your cup."

No, clearly the woman before him is not one Malon Darklyn. The curves of womanhood are easy to catch in this light, and Aerys is left breathless. That is mainly due to choking on the leaf, rather than the sight he is seeing-but the two happen to mesh and mix nicely. A pause and the elder dragon shifts in his stance for a second, as one hand slides up to rub over his face. "Well, I should hope so. Bad thing those leaves. Ever so-they are in abundance here." he adds with a grimace before he shifts in his stance, likely to seem more accomodating-but then he is motioning to the chair next to his own.

"My gods, Nerissa Celtigar." he breathes out before laughing softly. "I didn't recognize you. Last I saw you and Elionys were to my hips, and just children with carefree smiles." He is not complaining about the change. "Obviously you are a woman-allow me to treat you as thus." And there hand out. "My Lady."

The young woman bounces into an acceptable curtsey, in keeping with respect due to royalty, before finally allowing her laugh to light merrily upon the air, "Yes, we were. You do not appear to have aged a day, Ser Aerys. Kind as ever I remember you to be." Her bright blue eyes drift to the offered chair, hesitating for just a moment before yielding to her temptation and flouncing on over to take up residence within it, "I can sit for a spell, but only if you promise not to tell anyone I was unattended. There are rules against these things, as you well know - and while I try best to obey them… sometimes they are simply ridiculous." Nerissa appears quite the chatterbox as she tilts her head in amused study of him, "I did not realize you would be coming to Oldtown. I thought you halfway around the world off on some wonderful adventures. Does Ely know you have returned? She will be most delighted by the news, I think."

"I am too old still for fantastical adventures, my dear." Aerys says, wistfully. "I am an old dragon-though I thank you for your kind concern." A grin there before he is looking back at her. Aerys now with the flashing of thunder and the pale moon's light has enough to truly take in the creature that's seated itself so close. And so he moves to retake his seat, as natural as any man would. "There's grey within my blonde-and therefore my dear, I am old." a sad smile at that before he is nodding on to the storm. "They're beautiful.." though his eyes do find themselves slipping back.

"Hmm?" caught in a thought before he blinks, and chuckles. Aerys shakes his head as now truly the storm pulls him back with precious thunder. "Ah, no. I shan't tell. It'll be our secret." A grin there. "And she does-yes. We ran into one another at a wine shop."

"You are hardly old, Ser Aerys. Just well-seasoned, I would think," the younger Celtigar proclaims easily as she leans back in her chair and casts her attentions up towards the rolling storm clouds, "They truly are, but not so much as the rain that follows. When I was younger, I used to think it was the Mother shedding her tears for all those who broke her heart with their brutality. I know better now, though." Her words echo with a tenderness as she slowly lowers her gaze back to reside upon Aerys.

Nerissa's nose wrinkles a bit in concentration as she appears to be trying to count the strands of grey within his blonde before giving up. The mention of wine does make her perk up a little bit, blue eyes drifting from his former leaf-ridden cup back towards him with a playful chastizement, "And had you not encountered Ely in the wine shop, would you have even dared to let either of us know you were in town, hmm? For that alone, I should kick you - but I fear it might damage my slippers and I rather like this pair." She admits freely.

That, gets a laugh as Aerys drapes a hand over the side and close to the girl's armrest. "Ah that is kind. Alright, I will take, well seasoned as a compliment. I do not think it would do me well to deny it." he adds. "It has it bonuses you know." A glance back to the young woman-though it seems such a statement would be scandalous to continue on. Instead he looks back up to the sky, his own sigh wistful there as eyes close. "I always figured they were molten led from the Smith's forge. Valryian swords being worked over celestial fires-and the excess came to us." A shake of his head before he is looking back.

"Oh, I would have come to find you both eventually. I've just much trouble to uncoil from our House, and I figured young Eli was her own woman and wouldn't wish to be seen with me." A sniff there in mock anguish before he grins. "Now, I know differ.." and he turns to crane his head as if looking to see the pair-though clearly he is leering at other goods.

If any leering is going on, the young Celtigar is beyond oblivious. In fact, she just continues to chatter on away - his acceptance of his negligence inspiring a firm nod of her head, "Well, you should be fully ashamed. You are one of Ely's favorite Uncles and she greatly missed you. There are plenty dragons of ashamed company she must keep, but you are not amongst them." Ah the words flow so incredibly unhindered from the young woman, her chest huffing and puffing with each offer.

In fact, Nerissa seems to light up with clear animation as her hands begin to move in clear illustration of just how invested she is in the given topic, "In some ways, coming here was the best and worst thing for Ely. We have more freedom, yes, but the cousins here are a bit… odd, even by normal dragon standards." Her eyes slide to settle firmly upon Aerys with a deep sigh, "You will help me keep her safe now that you are here, yes? Not imprisoned though… she has had far too much of that to be healthy."

Sorry, distraction takes over as he clearly eyes her chest, which rises and falls with each huff and puff. There's a look to the cup he'd been chastised with and he almost certainly could use a less flowery drink now. His hand moves up to wipe at the back of his neck instead as he shifts a bit uncomfortably in his seat. "Yes well, being her favorite, doesn't mean the best, dear."

"Yes." he answers as he catches her eyes firmly settled and his look-without balking. "Of course-and I've never treated her like a prisoner before. Her sister followed as did some others from Kings Landing, that I wish had not." a frown there. "But I cannot keep people, even my own kin from traveling."

"Sevens, no - we cannot stop them from traveling," Nerissa agrees as she lets her fingers dance spritely on off in a walking gesture, "… but mayhaps they can travel on elsewhere?" Optimism in its highest form, the younger woman's features once again melt into a charming disposition as she offers, "I beg to differ, Ser Aerys. You are the best… or um… at least one of them from what I have seen. Ely is a very good judge of these things."

Fingers idly rise to fiddle with the pendant dangling from the pearls around her neck, as her nose wrinkles yet again in thought, "You should join us for tea some afternoon. We can take it out in the gardens or perhaps go upon a picnic. Actually, a picnic would be much preferred, I think." Her thoughts clearly running in sync with her mouth, leaving little room for filteration, "I can speak with the cook and have baskets of food prepared and then we can ride out somewhere to the countryside. Mayhaps if we are most fortunate, we will have chance to encounter a few wild animals up close. I know Ely and I would enjoy that immensely."

Aerys laughs there. "Perhaps, I am hoping the recent outbreak of duels and challenges seem off putting enough to discourage our kin from coming down. Though, if we're to be likely and normal-it will encourage the poorest behavior from the worst sort." And Aerys is now looking to the pendant and pearls-before quite suddenly standing up to pace a bit, and come to lean against parapet that looks out to the clouds and over the city.

"We're going riding? Trying to court me dear?" he asks with a faint grin over his shoulder. "Oh-you and Eli-yes. I believe that could be arranged, though I ask you take some armed men with you. This area is relatively safe, but one never knows what they find on the road."

His sudden rise causes Nerissa to blink a bit as she, too, rises to her feet and begins to cross over towards him. She stops a few feet behind him before adding in a gentle manner, "We would very much like you to join us, Ser Aerys. And if you insist we take some armed men, then we shall do so. Besides I doubt that we could sneak off that far without them if we tried." Thinking of her own personal guard and his likely reaction to her having slipped his notice this evening gives her a brief shudder.

Instinct takes hold of her as she gently lights a touch upon his arm, far too accustomed to providing support to Elionys to shy away from offering it to another in need, "Things will get better now that you are here. Of that I am certain. A dragon cannot breathe needless fire forever, Ser Aerys. Sooner or later it must take some time to rest, so too shall be the way of those nesting in Oldtown. We simply must wait for the rest to commence." There is another clap of thunder as a few sprinkles of tiny water droplets seem to fall, scarcely any to be of great note. But it is enough to give her pause, "I should be on my way. I have gowns to deliver to Ely's chambers. Join us for tea tomorrow?"

Aerys, for all that he is-is still a man, and right now feeling rather ashamed of his own staring-even if the girl did not notice it. Clearing his throat, the Prince looks over his shoulder as she speaks. A dry laugh, with no weight is lifted and deposited before he is looking back towards the skyline. "I do, only for protection. Not to weight you two down from enjoying the day." And there when feather light touch hits his arm, he seizes up and freezes for a moment. Her words are met with silence, but she is given a nod.

Finally though he speaks. "Yes, of course, I would be delighted." His voice is soft-and he then quietly peels away moving for the path once more. "I will be looking for wine, if you don't mind. Ta' dear."

Hand left bereft of its resting place, Nerissa lets her gaze follow the burnt dragon out with a puzzled frown. The frown lasts for the briefest of moments as those misting water droplets seem to grow in size to actual droplets - tears of The Mother raining down upon her. "The gowns!" the young Celtigar all but squeaks as she quickly dashes to recollect the dampening gowns from their resting bench and darts off inside, Aerys forgotten for the time being as the rain steadily falls.

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