(121-05-16) More Cousins and Drinks
More Cousins and Drinks
Summary: Aevander tries to smooth things over with Elionys. The operative word here is "tries".
Date: May 17, 2014
Related: A Comeuppance and a Cousinly Drink
Players:
Elionys..Aevander..

Northwestern Suite - 3 - Dragon Door Manse — Starry Street

From this suite's large North-facing windows one can see the manse's walled garden, the Honeywine, and the Citadel beyond. There are two sitting rooms, one very large and furnished with gracious gilded couches with elegant delicate legs and velvet cushions, positioned around the grand fireplace. A fine Myrish carpet in red and black and gold stands out against the white marble floor.

The second is a small, intimate room with padded chairs, another Myrish rug of a floral pattern, and the walls hung with tapestries. Perhaps it serves as a sewing room.

In the sleeping chamber stands a large bed, its four posts carved in the shapes of dragons, its coverlet an intricate pattern of black and red. There is a matching wardrobe and nightstand, with a simple candle-stand, and another red and black Myrish carpet warms the floor. There is yet another fireplace, albeit a smaller one.


The evening hasn't gone at all as planned, quite the opposite, and now Elionys is at home and in a foul mood. All servants have been kicked out of her room, and for now the Princess paces her room, not going so far as to throw anything, or kick furniture, even if she might want to.

What fine timing Aevander has then, arriving back from the Fist and Falcon when Elionys is in such a state and rapping on her door to announce himself.

Without a servant to answer the door, Elionys plods unhappily in that direction, though she doesn't open it. Not yet. "Who is it?" she asks, hand on the handle.

"Your very favorite cousin," Aevander replies from the other side of the door, "with very sore knuckles. Will you let me in?"

There is a long stretch of silence that follows, long enough that he might begin to wonder if Elionys will answer. Finally though, there is the quiet click of lock, and then it's pulled open just enough to permit him through.

And Aevander steps through, with wine and two glasses no less, nudging the door shut again before looking over at Elionys. "You're cross with me," he surmises.

Elionys is leaning beside the door when he steps through, frowning at him and his wine, and his statement. "Yes," she tells him, words as cool as he's ever heard. "Of coure I am. You embarrassed me, Aevander."

"I certainly didn't expect you and a pair of Tyrells to snoop on me when I said my piece to Ser Riderch," Aevander argues, setting down the glasses and filling them. He offers one to Elionys.

"I didn't expect you to do this in a tavern," Elionys counters with a frown at him, eyeing the wine for a few moments befre she reaches out to take the cup. "Even so, you didn't need say what you said. You only said it to be unkind."

"Where should I have done it? Gone into his home to punch him? Invited him into mine and punch him? I'm not that great a knave." Though Aevander is, admittedly, some degree of knave. "I said it because it is all too plain to most, but not, I think, to you."

"I don't know!" Elionys very nearly shouts back at him, looking abruptly angry, or at least more angry, and more upset than before. "You're the damnable knight, is that how you handle these sorts of things?" It's not quite a scowl, the look is too soft to be a proper scowl, but there is quite a lot of displeasure carried in her expression. "You didn't have to say it there Aevander. Not there. Why would you do that, except to make a mockery of him, and to make me look a fool for not seeing something that is apparently so obvious."

Aevander puffs a soft breath out, his shoulders dropping a little. "Because I was angry," he replies, "and so I behaved poorly. I'm sorry, you're right. I should have waited until we could speak more discreetly."

"A lot of good your sorry does me now," Elionys replies, not sounding quite ready to forgive him, though the anger does ebb somewhat. "He is my friend, and you may have cost me that, because now there is sure to be rumors about it. About his moon eyes and my stupidity." She pushes away from the wall and spins on her heel, the skirt of her cheery pink dress billowing out as she turns to stalk for the window, which is open, as always.

"He would have cost himself that in short enough order," Aevander argues gently. "Or written your father and been refused."

"And so you've saved me that trouble?" asks Elionys as she looks over her shoulder at him. "Is that what you're saying? Ought I thank you, cousin, that you're leaving me, and taking my friends as well? Shall I write out a list of others that you can upset so that I'm left friendless once you're gone?"

"You will hardly be left…" Aevander takes a moment to indulge in a large swallow of wine. "I am only saying that friendship was coming to an end. You do not have to commend what I did, but it didn't hasten the inevitable by very much."

"It was not yours to do, Aevander, that is my point," Elionys replies, but her shoulders sag a bit as she says it. She looks as though she wants to say more, at least in the profile view he has of her face, but soon it turns back to the darkness that seems to better match her mood.

Aevander is quiet, taking another swallow of wine before he allows, quietly, "I know. I'm sorry."

Elionys gives a quiet sniff and leans against the frame of the window, eyes remaining on some distant point in the darkness. No reply is forthcoming, but he's also not being yelled at or thrown out, so that must be something.

It must be. Or aevander hopes it must be, anyway. He has another couple swallows of wine, stands quietly, and waits.

He is going to have to wait a while, again, just as with the answering of the door. Elionys is silent long enough to make him think she ight not say anything else at all, but finally she twists around to look over her shoulder, checking to see if he's still there. "Have you more to say?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were all right," Aevander replies where he stands with a now-empty wine glass. "That we were all right."

"Is that all?" asks Elionys, not quite looking at him, but turned far enough that she can at least see him from the corner of her eye. "And what if I say no?"

"Then I suppose I'm going to have to throw myself out that window, so it's handy you left it open," Aevander replies, sounding utterly somber.

"We are not," Elionys challenges, pale golden brows arching as she turns just a little bit further to look back at him. Your move, Aevander.

Aevander sighs and sets down his glass. He tugs his jerkin straight, as one must look presentable when defenestrating oneself. He strides over to the window to peer down at the ground below. Looking over at Elionys, he offers a soft smile. "You were the best of it, you know." And then he swings one leg over so he straddles the sill.

Elionys waits, she waits as he's set aside his glass, until after he's fiddled with his jerkin. She waits on, as he strides to the window and looks out, as he turns to her. She waits. It's not until he slings one leg over the edge of the sill that she jerks forward, wine sloshing all over her hand as she reachse out to grab his arm. "Stop it, you idiot," she protests, tugging him back in her direction.

So, Aevander slides back into the room, smiling softly, even as he protests, "Oh, your hand. Here, give me your glass. I'll fetch you a cloth."

"Stop that, too," Elionys protests as she upends the glass so that it splatters on the floor at her feet, likely wetting her slippers, and splattering all over her skirt. "It's just wine, it's not going to hurt me," she argues, but the anger isn't there anymore.

Aevander tuts softly as wine goes spilling on her floor, but he's smiling faintly. "Am I forgiven, then, cousin?"

"No," Elionys replies, turning away and moving just far enough that she isn't standing in a puddle of wine, and to set her glass on a nearby table. "Not yet. You've not earned your forgiveness."

"No?" Aevander asks. "How may I earn it, then?"

"No," Elionys repeats as she puts more distance between them and drops gracefully onto the couch. "As to how? I don't know, I'm sure you'll find way, but you best find it quick, your time is running out." This renews the frown as she settles back into the cushion.

"I suppose there's always the window," Aevander replies with a wistful glance towards it again. But he walks over to seat himself beside Elionys with a soft breath out. "I suppose I will," he agrees, "think of something."

"There is," Elionys agrees, but as he comes over to the couch and joins her, she refrains from protesting against that idea too much again. "You're a clever man, I'm certain that you will come up with something."

"I like to think I am," Aevander replies wryly, "though I was not so clever tonight, was I. I don't dislike Ser Riderch, you know, but he should have put you first. Especially as he's mooning over you."

"You're wrong," Elionys replies as she turns her head to look over at Aevander, a faint frown drawing a downward curve of her lips. "He did think of me first, above himself, and that was his failing here. Had he thought only of himself, he would have done as you say he should and taken me back to shore first, but instead he respected me enough to understand that I can make some decisions of my own, and that I made that one."

"Which is all fine and well enough to say now, as you're safe and unharmed, but if there had been brigands aboard that ship? If it had been some manner of trap?" Aevander asks. "Gods, you could have been wounded or captive. Or killed. He did not respect you, he wanted your respect of him. He heeded your words instead of his better judgement, and that was far too reckless on both your parts."

"A trap for who, Aevander?" asks Elionys, though this question is delivered gently. "Not for us, too few knew of the trip or when it would happen to have set something so elaborate in motion, and it was the birds that drew us. Birds that only circle in such a way when they circle the dead. There are far better ways and places to ambush random ships than to do so there, without knowing who it was they might ambush."

"It was a risk," Aevander argues softly, "and a needless one. I don't want you doing such things."

"Yes, it was," Elionys can agree to that much now, turning a little more so that her body angles toward him. "It was a risk, but it was one made in the company of amazingly skilled knights, and my guards, and all the men on the ship. Had anything been amiss, I am certain it would have been handled, and I would have returned as safely then as I did that day." A slow breath is drawn as her gaze lifts from him, moving instead to the window where it rests for the moment. "We have women in our family who are warriors, who ride dragons, who are as fearsome as any man, and I may not be any of those, but it's still unfair of you to ask me to hide from every potential danger that might present itself. Life is risk, going outside is risk, living in this manse is risk. Everything is a risk, so let me choose some of them."

"There is o such thing as certainty," Aevander argues gently. "We do have such women, but you have never been taught any of those skills. That is like saying we have knights in the family, so every man ought to be able to joust if he wishes. Choose your risks, I've no desire to see you hide in your room for all time. Just… don't choose the ones that involve carrion birds."

"What sorts of birds am I allowed to take risks with?" asks Elionys, suddenly very sarcastic, if not happily so. "You're leaving, so I can claim whatever I like now, but you'll be gone and will have no way to know whether or not I am abiding by those claims," she says, grumpily.

"Falcons," Aevander replies promptly, "Swans. Ducks. Ravens." One eye squinches shut. "Chickens, if you're very good." He sniffs. "Ah, I will know. I shall keep eyes and ears everywhere in Oldtown, and they will report to me if you transgress."

"Liar," Elionys replies, arms folding across her stomach. "You won't know, and just to prove it, I'm going to do at least three foolish things after you leave. If you find out about them, you can write me and prove me wrong."

"I do not like this plan," Aevander protests. "This is a truly terrible plan."

"I think it's a perfect plan," Elionys counters as she glances at him again. "I'm sure you'll hear all about it. From your spies."

"And be horrified and heartsick," Aevander adds with a soft sigh.

"And not here," Elionys concludes with a frown, settling back against the couch again to frown at the wall, as though it were to blame.

"Yes," Aevander agrees, soft and solemn, "and not here."

That agreement, as accurate as it may be, seems to be the cherry on top of Elionys' bad mood. She says nothing in return, and instead just glares at the wall. Poor wall.

"Well," Aevander murmurs, "I'd better go and have a think on how I mean to get back into your good graces." He pushes to his feet. "Good night, Elionys."

"Fine," Elionys replies, sounding as displeased that he's going as she is about much else tonight. "I'm sure you'll come up with something tomorrow."

"Good night," Aevander says again before stepping around the wine puddle and slipping out the door.

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