(121-05-08) A Rose Among Dragons
A Rose Among Dragons
Summary: Loryn Tyrell visits the Targaryens
Date: Date of play 08/05/2014
Related: None
Players:
Elionys..Aemon..Loryn..Aerys..Daevon..

Walled Garden - Dragon Door Manse

The day is hot, as so many days are, but with rain not so much falling as it is hanging in the air making everything damp, it's a slightly less comfortable heat. Elionys can be found in the garden, taking as much shelter as one can from this weather beneath the veranda, seated at the table there with a small, open box sitting in her lap. The announcement of a visitor makes her glance up, "A Tyrell?" To this, she sounds surprised. "Very well, send him in."

Aemon is lounging sprawled on a low bench nearby, sipping a glass that drips condensation onto his hand and flipping through a book, idly and without any particular apparent interest. At his feet is a cat of the variety that prowl the Dothraki sea, pure white and still a baby, gnawing on a large bone. He lifts a brow at the announcement and asks, "Do you know him?"

Daevon comes out of the manse.

There's an awful lot of Targaryens about in this garden and for a moment Loryn hesitates, surpressing the urge to flee. But he swallows and steps forward, addressing himself to the female since it's the chivalrous thing to do. "Mylady. Thank you for receiving me. My name is Loryn Tyrell…"

Elionys is seated beneath the shelter of the veranda with a box in her lap, which appears to contain something that she finds entertaining, and Aemon is sprawled on a nearby bench with a pure white baby cat gnawing on a large bone at his feet.

"Loryn Tyrell," Elionys repeats the name quietly, frowning. "I have, once. At Maelys tournament, though we didn't speak for long," she replies to Aemon, glancing up as soon as the young lord arrives. "Yes, I remember," she tells Loryn with a smile, a hand lifting from the box to make an inviting gesture. "Please, come have a seat. Would you like any wine? We've only just had it brougt out."

"I say, I wonder if they have any more red. The last lable was something Dornish-which they do fine, but I'd prefer an arbor this early in the morning." crowed over Loryn's shoulder as yet another Targaryen shows himself into the garden, an opened bottle in one hand and a brace of cups clenched through fingers in the other. Elionys is given a look, before eyes alight on Aemon. "Oh, Coz." this the elder of them calls out with a waggle of the bottle

With that Prince Aerys Targaryen sweeps around poor Loyrn and finds a seat to steal nigh a table. "Well I brought more. Sometimes you must needs variety when dealing with the grape." Aerys annoucnes before he is setting down more glasses. Don't mix your cups please and thank you. We're not Florents.

Aemon sits up with a creak of leather and rustle of cloth, and pivots to set his feet back on the ground. "Lord Loryn," he greets the newest-comer with a polite smile, "What brings you here today?" Aerys gets a lift of his hand in a silent wave before he's bending down to try to coax the lion cub to take his wine goblet in its mouth and take it over to Elionys. He succeeds only in getting it to bat the cup about until it bounces across the stones to the lady's feet. Aemon shrugs. "More red?"

Daevon's been going through drills with his blade in the practice area with all the grace of a danger. Swirling and spinning, cutting down imaginary foes. But his morning workout comes to an end, the blade's put down, his pitcher of lemonwater gulped from, and then that sound of voices draws him, cup in hand. The Maiden Knight, sweaty, with hair tied back, but smiling quite happily.

Loryn freezes a little at the arrival of another - and older - Targaryen, but luckily it's not the one man he could not stand to see. "Thank you.", he smiles at Elionys and takes the seat she offers, accepting a cup of wine as well. The men get a polite nod, not hundred percent sure who's who among the very blonde bunch and scared to use the wrong name. "How is Ser Maelys?", he asks politely, trying hard to keep his voice neutral, "I trust he is recovering well?"

Daevon's gaze flicks over the three men. "Will someone spar with me later?" he asks, hopefully, adding in a 'please' just in case that helps after a moments thought. "Lord Loryn. What brings you here? I heard that Lord Garvin was found, is he well?" He lets someone else field the question about Maelys.

The arrival of yet another relative, this time her uncle, makes Elionys smile all the brighter, keeping one hand over top the box while the other lifts to wave at Aerys. Her attention drifts to Aemon and the cat, watching with amusement as the cup rolls to a stop near her feet. "You're never going to get him to do that," she informs him, leaning to the side to try and get the cup, which she manages to do after a few moments. "Oh, Maelys will survive," she replies, looking back to Loryn as she leans forward to try and pour more wine into the cup with one hand, the other remaining steadily atop the box. Something appears to be moving inside of it. "The Maesters say that he should recover much faster than after the trial, I'm told." The cup is filled and picked up, but she doesn't rise, instead leaning to the side as far as she can, arm stretching out to try and return the cup to Aemon. Try. He may have to move to get it.

No, luckily for Aerys, he doesn't share any of the traits of his nephew, save they have purple eyes. A reach of his bottle and a sweetwine is poured-because apparently something like that is permissiable, as opposed to somethign headier. A rather long pull is taken before he tops off the glass once more and the leans a little into his seat. Eyes light down to the lion cub that Aemon seems to be tryaining-or doing something with. "Where did you get that?" asked idly enough as one hand moves up to muss with his hair. There's a glance to his niece and a smile is given Elionys. "Oh, I ran into your Lady in waiting last night." Not exactly tattling. "You did not tell me Nerissa Celtigar came with you." A bit of mild chastizement. Though as soon as Loryn speaks again he's looking over the Tyrell lad with a faint smirk.

To Daevon's question there's a glance spared Aemon before the Burnt Dragon looks over. "I'll cross swords with you, if you like?" Aerys adds. "I've already had my fill of Hightower men clumisly hacking and slashing about."

"I see." Loryn nods stiffly to Elionys' explanation that Maelys will survive but doesn't expand further on it. Instead he offers Daevon a little smile. "I would not mind crossing swords with you, Ser. In a spar.", he adds quickly. Just in case. "Yes, Lord Garvin was found, thank you for your concern. He is presently recovering at Garden Isle. But Lord Arion is still missing and the criminal has not yet been apprehended." His eyes drift to the lion cub, but he says nothing. Soft kitty, little ball of fur. Not doing any harm. Right?

"Are you a friend of Ser Maelys?" Aemon inquires, not having looked up to see the stiffness in Loryn's expression when that particular prince is spoken of. He's busy suggesting to Elionys, "Balance it on his head, he'll bring it back to me. Won't you, boy?" No, he won't. But the cub does stand there still for long enough that Elionys could be tempted to try setting the cup on the flatter top of his skull.

"Oh, sparring can wait, can't it?" complains Elionys as she glances first to Daevon, and then to Loryn, who gets a wide-eyed, sweet smile. "We haven't even found out what our new friend here wants." She looks away again, back to Aemon and the cub, the latter of which is given a dubious look, but either she trusts him enough to be telling the truth, or she's amused enough by the idea to try it, because she does attempt to carefully set the glass on the poor cat's head. "Of course I brought Neri with me," she replies, glancing back at Aerys a moment. "I wouldn't leave her behind."

Daevon beams as people agree to fight him. He nods his acknowledgement of all offers. "Thank you." He nods at Elionys. "Of course, unless you're of a mind to pick up a sword and join us." He looks concerned as Arion is said to still be missing. "I'll go speak with his brother." He looks at the creature they're fussing over but he too pays it little regard. "And I am glad to hear that Lord Garvin is safe and well. I heard you did well at the theatre in his absence."

"Of course it can, Darling." This said over towards Elionys as he lowers his cup after more wine has been liberally applied to his pallet. "I will spar with him later on, right now we have a guest-and I'd rather not make a fool of myself in front of a young rose as this one." A smile applied in Loryn's direction before he is taking another sip, eyes sparkling with amusement over the tricks of the Lion cub-or rather the poor attempts. Either way it's entertaining. "Oh I know, dear." back to Elionys, does Aerys look. "She just surprised me that is all." he adds with a grin. "I agreed to join you both for a tea." a wry smile there that quickly is lost as he glances from Daevon and back. "Planning to learn a blade, pet?"

"I most certainly am not.", Loryn replies to Aemon's question, unable to keep the sharpness from his voice. But he inhales deeply, focusing on positive things instead. "Indeed, yes, I took Garvin's part at the Whimsy and I think I did fairly well. The audience liked my performance.", he says, trying to sound humble, but pride clearly audible in his voice. The lion cub provides additional help to gloss over awkward pauses in the conversation. Obviously he had come over to say something, but now can't remember his speech.

The lion cub bears the cup for about two seconds before lowering its head and pawing at the spot. The goblet clatters to the floor, splashing pet and - if she's not careful - Elionys's hem in wine, dappling the creature's pristine white fur in red. Aemon makes a disappointed noise and gesture and lists back against a column. "Ah, well. Congratulations, lad," he says to Loryn, prompting, "Have you come about the play?"

Elionys smiles at Aerys again as he agrees to dely the fighting for now, though the smile falters as she finds the hem of her pale purple dress suddenly splattered with red wine. Not much, but a few spots. "I think you need to work on this trick," she informs Aemon, but it's lacking in any true annoyance. It's not like she doesn't have dozens upon dozens of more gowns right upstairs. "Me?" she asks, glancing back at Aerys. "Oh, no, not yet. Jaehaera is having me trained, but she said I can't learn anything else until I properly learn how to handle a bow. So that's what I'm doing." Every morning. At dawn. It's exhausting. With the cup of wine sort of passed along, she looks back to the box in her lap, reaching in to pull out a tiny creature, a lizard. A lizard with wings. Fake wings. It's ridiculous, but she's entertained by it.

"Why do you do it?" Daevon asks, gently, his curiosity quite clear. "The acting I mean?" Amd then, taking his cues from the others he does ask. "Ah, yes what brings you here?" The second time he's asked that question. He smiles at Elionys, nodding. "You'll get used to it. It's that first time that's difficult."

"Indeed are you?" quips Aerys as he looks up. "I haven't seen it yet, though I've been meaning to. Unless your run is over." A faint frown there. "You know, my son run's a mummer's company down in King's Landing-though I've never seen his plays. The Prince's men they call themselves. A gaggle of knights-and two other nobles, but mainly a fine trapping of mummers I've heard. So far they've not been sussed out of the capitol, try as my son might." A brief pause and the elder dragon contemplates here. "Is the theatre good here, What plays have been done?"

To Elionys there's a brief nod given. "Ah the bow. Well then I should join you and get my own back to snuff. I rarely used it for combat-really. Though hunting." There's a nod there. "Entirely different matter."

Well, they keep distracting him with bizarre pets! Loryn stares at the winged lizard as it comes out of the box. Is that…? Surely it's not…?" Once he's convinced himself that it surely can't be a mini dragon, he looks at Daevon again. "Why do I act? Because I love it? Giving me a chance to … be someone else? Live exciting lives on stage?" He looks at Aerys now: "Our last show was The Bear and the Maiden Fear. Garvin was in the process of writing a new play for us… but I don't know now when he will find the strength to continue.", he admits quietly. Then he inhales deeply. "But no, I have not come to discuss the theatre, as much as I love talking about it. I've come because… there has been so much bad blood between our families."

Aemon shrugs unapologetically at Elionys and sighs, getting to his feet to pour his own wine, and reaching down to scratch the cub's head as he does it. The lady's winged lizard gets a glance and a chuckle, and then he's looking back to Loryn as he drinks, brows rising. "Has there? As far as I was aware, the Tyrells continue to be my brother's loyal subjects and Wardens of the South."

Is it a dragon? No, it's not, closer inspection makes it obvious that the little wings are fake, that they're strapped on, and that there appears to be a very tiny rider as well. See? Ridiculous. Poor lizard. Elionys lets the little thing crawl from the back of one hand, and onto the next, little wings bouncing as she listens. "Oh, there's been some. The whole business with Maelys and the Tyrell Lord on the road, and then I believe Aevander may have gotten into a duel over something said about Lord Pansy." She glanes up at Loryn now, fingers curling in to carefully contain the lizard in one hand. "Do you intend to try and make matters right, my Lord?"

"And Lord Garvin's treatment of my sister," Daevon adds, quietly. "There's been bad blood in Oldtown, certainly, which saddens me. We used to be friends." He settles down onto a seat, glancing at the lizard for a moment.

"Perhaps, what Lorel" A glance to Loyrn to see if he gets that correct, before continuing on, "is trying to say is: There's been some hiccups in an otherwise wonderful relationship, between two minor branches of large families." Aerys adds from his cup, and there he takes a sip. "After all, I am certain that Lord Lorant knows we as a whole are not to blame for my exiled nephew's duel of Ser Corey, just as I know Lord Lorant is not to blame, when his catamite son, chirps about Princess Visenya breaking a betrothal bonds, and being horrid to him." A glance there at Loryn. "We simply know it's not true." And another sip is taken before he offers his hand out to continue. "But, clearly our friend here feels differently, and so we should hear him out." A nod given the Tyrell and a reassuring smile to follow. "Proceed."

Apparently though, Aevander getting into a duel about Lord Pansy does get a curious look. "Odd, though I do guess Lord Garvin is a swordsman." he murmurs.

"Loryn.", the young Tyrell corrects Aerys softly, "And about my cousin being a swordsman…" He smirks a little and leaves it at that, looking towards Elionys and then Daevon instead, nodding. "The Targaryens and the Tyrells have been friends and need each other. I think we both lose from having this rift grow deeper, turning into one of these endless feuds that go on for generations even when people have long forgotten who slighted who and how in the first place. I am willing to put our differences behind us and move on." And that from the guy whose father and uncle were killed by Maelys.

"Naturally," Aemon gestures with his wine toward Aerys, "I believe you have the right of it, cousin. Unfortunate incidents, but ones involving individuals only. They should not and as yet do not reflect on the relations of our families as a whole, I'm sure." He makes another expansive gesture before bringing his cup back in to drink, finding another column to lean against. "An admirable sentiment, Lord Loryn," he approves, "But if you are not any of those who have been duelling, I wonder how you mean to do anything about it?"

"Lord Garvin's gifted with the blade," Daevon says. "He's got a natural talent for it and he trained under a waterdancer. Although despite that he seems most unwilling to fight his own battles." He sips his own lemonwater. "It seems such a waste for such skill to only be used on stage in front of others." He looks at Loryn and nods at Aemon's last, seeing no need to repeat it.

"That is very nice of you," Elionys says, smiling at Loryn again. "But have you discussed this matter with your brother? I do not mean to make light of your efforts here, quite the contrary, I admire that you're trying, but having spoken to Ser Laurent on the matter somewhat, any attempt at peace here in Oldtown would require his support. He and Maelys are on… not very good terms."

"My apologies, Loryn." And there he offers a smile for the slight correction. No harm, no foul here my boy. Taking another sip he looks back towards Aemon. "And I know some younger generations have not been acting properly, but I think there are many in the Reach that can fall under such a banner." And then to Loryn's smirk the elder dragon winks and laughs. "I like this one-" though whatever revelry comes from the shared jest, it's lost as Daevon chimes in. The Lovely young Maiden Knight earns a small scowl. "It was an innue-Oh never mind." and there his wine is set aside. Though the question has been asked and so Aerys raises his brows, apparently wanting to hear it.

With all eyes on him, Loryn looks like he's getting a little hot under the collar. "My brother is not an easy person.", he admits carefully, "And I don't know if I can bring him round to my point of view. But if you would agree that it's time to move on… to re-establish former bonds… I could at least try. As it is, I came here as a messenger of peace. To say that I deplore the current atmosphere… the duels… the hatred… and that I am willing to move on. No hatred, no duelling will bring my father back to life anyway."

Daevon's rather oblivious to innuendos most of the time, they sail right over his head and so he blinks at Aemon, looking genuinely surprised. "Oh." He looks at Loryn as the man speaks. "What are you here to have us do?"

"I would also amend, that you speak to your cousin who writes plays and sings songs." Aerys says with a look towards Loryn. "And tell him to stop with his silly slander. Everyone in Oldtown, if not the reach knows which fields he chooses to plow, and therefore doesn't need to carry on like he does over Visenya." And with that he leans back. "And there will be no compensation for him, based on his backing out of a betrothal." and with that he looks back towards Daevon-and finally to Loryn.

"I think we all agree that we do hate the current atmosphere that has been born and harboured in Oldtown, yes?" A raised brow is given over to Elionys. "Niece." he says. "You've been here longer than me and cousin Aemon." naming the one with the lion cub. "What would your solution be here?"

"No, he is not," Elionys agrees with Loryn on the subject of his brother. "And neither is my Uncle, he was exiled for a reason. We can agree on these things, all day long if we like, and until we're blue in the face. Our troubles lies in that we cannot control them, and they are going to fight if they choose to fight," and apparnetly, she thinks they're going to choose just that. "Perhaps, see if you can get the Lord Pansy to cease this slander, and the suggestion that he need be compensated for the breaking of the betrothal, and then the rest of us can see that there is some measure of peace, even if your brother and my uncle continue to battle," she suggests, glancing between Aerys and Aemon.

"Hatred is a strong word," Aemon says mildly, "It would be distressing to learn the Tyrells had come to harbor such a feeling for our family." Distressing to whom exactly he does not specify. Elionys gets a nod for her suggestion, sipping his wine before adding, "Though naturally any such arrangements regarding Lord Garvin and Lady Visenya would need be put to Lord Lorant and the lady's father. We would not speak for them just as you cannot speak for your brother. But I'm sure such a matter as this one at least can be put to rest without further trouble. Does your brother intend to quarrel with Ser Maelys again?"

Daevon's quiet now as he listens to the political talk.

"My cousin is not the same right now.", Loryn says softly, "Who knows if he'll ever fully recover. But I will speak to him. I know it will be easier to make Garvin see sense than to get Laurent to calm down. I cannot promise he will let matters rest now - but if there are no fresh provocations from Maelys, I can perhaps talk to him. And otherwise -", he nods to Elionys in agreement, "If we can treat each other amicably and support each other… we can just ignore the hotheads until they have succeeded in tearing each other to shreds."

"Indeed. And we need stronger spirits to survive it. I'll fetch some whisky." Aerys intones as he rises up slowly with goblet in hand. There's a glance to Elionys who is given a bare wink. Approval for her answer. There's a glance over then at Loryn as the rest of his wine is drained down. "I will not presume to know what your cousin has recently suffered. However I think we all can agree the slander must stop." point blank. "If you want matters to improve it must stop. No more discussion." Boot down, Aerys looks back to Elionys. "I believe you have this in hand. I'll try to hurry back." Who knows if he'll get lost rummaging for bottles. "It was nice meeting you, lad." This offered to the Tyrell as now Aerys takes this moment to escape.

"Of course," Elionys nods in agreement to Aemon at once. "Yes, ultimately they would need make that decision, whether the matter is of the betrothal is truly put to rest, but Lord Pansy can help by not speaking ill of my cousin and their bad betrothal. If that much can be managed, of some amount of respect can be shown, that would at least help see some peaceful end to some of this." The approval from Aerys makes her smile, it's a small, quietly pleased smile that lingers as she looks back to Loryn.

Daevon drains his glass of lemonwater and casts a wistful look towards the training area. He remains seated though, unfidgetting and does his best to listen to the conversation.

Loryn nods to Aerys before the man departs and then to Eliyonis. "I shall talk to Garvin… when he is more himself again.", he promises. Another awkward pause begins to stretch and he follows Daevon's look to the training area. "A little spar, before I depart, Ser?", he offers.

"Please, he looks like he might die if forced to sit still another instant," Aemon laughs when Loryn offers Daevon a spar, "Next time we'll be sure to have some toy soldiers or something about for you to entertain yourself, cousin." For his part, he's going to retake his seat and take up the giant ham bone on the ground, waggling it at the lion cub.

"Do," Elionys smiles at Loryn cheerfully, letting the wriggling reptile crawl up her arm, all the way to the elbow before she catches it with the opposite hand. "And let me know if you're successful? I'm sure everyone living here would be curious to hear whether or not you're successful in your efforts." When the talk of sparring resumes, she settles back in her chair, attention returning to her little not-quite-dragon.

Daevon laughs. "Oh thankyou." He's up on his feet immediately. "I'd like to see how good you are." He's laughing at Aemon's words too. "Oh no, not toys. Maybe if I had a lion, or a dragon though.""

"I am not really dressed… I shall return another time, properly dressed and with my own sword.", Loryn replies as he follows Daevon, pointing at his fine outfit, "I did not think it prudent to come here with a sword. But we can go a few rounds now." He looks around to see if a sparring sword can be found for him.

"We have swords," Daevon says. "Changes of clothes too if you want them." He himself rarely thinks anything of ruining his fine clothing. Or I could send someone to your house to fetch your things?" He's hopeful. "Although if you don't think you're at your best we can do this later?"

"No, no, we can just do a few rounds now. If you defeat me, I have an excuse.", Loryn grins, "I'd be happy to come back another time for a proper training session. I train with my knight every day, but it's useful to train with others as well." He accepts a blunt sparring sword and a leather jerkin to protect his torso though, before he's ready to spar.

Daevon grabs a sparring sword himself, smiling gleefully now. His eyes filled with intensity he watches Loryn, waiting for the other man to attack. No more words, just the soft sound of his breathing.

Loryn does put up a decent fight, but the maiden knight is clearly the better one of them - with more experience and a better technique, that makes it difficult for Loryn to find an opening for attack. And the young Tyrell squire seems to be fading a little - but he is not yet beaten.

Daevon's lightning fast, every attack is avoided almost before it's even made. He's just simply not there, the sword meeting thin air, rather than his own blade. Daevon prefers to move, to side-step, to make use of all of the space around them than to parry with his own sword. He works on testing Loryn's defences though, pushing the other man to his limits of skill with no attempts to press further and score a touch. As the intensity of Loryn's attack increases, as the blade whistles just a hairsbreadth too close that smile, that fire in his eyes increases. "You're good."

But even if Loryn is getting better, it's still not enough. "And you are excellent, Ser.", he admits without jealousy, "I would like to spar with you again soon, in my proper clothes and bringing my own sword. May I come and call upon you again?", he asks politely, starting to remove the protective padded jerkin to also indicate that he's done for the day.

"I will look forward to it," Daevon says with a smile. He knows how good he is.

Nope, Loryn has not forgotten the other two Targaryens still present. Returning to where they are seated, he bows to the lady and nods to the young man. "Thank you for receiving me today. It was a pleasure and I look forward to seeing you again." Apparently it's goodbye.

Daevon saunters back towards the other two dragons, happy and content now. "Goodbye," he says to Loryn.

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