(121-05-21) Sisters and Squids
Sisters and Squids
Summary: Loryn meets a Greyjoy and finds his sister's come to town
Date: 20/05/2014
Related: None

It is terribly stormy outside, so all plans to leave the manse have been put on hold for Lady Lisette Tyrell. She is seated upon a bench situated beneath one of the long windows that overlook the street. Her expression is curious, possibly about the nature of rain upon iron bars or how clouds get so dark when full of water. But there is also something furtive there, forlorn. Beside her is a lady's maid, the 14 year old, Kalla. A homely blonde girl, but a devoted one, so there is that small comfort even if she is nothing to look at. There are Purple Cloaks about the manse, always, but one in particular is rather close to the lady, glancing to her from time to time when she shifts positions or sighs. Andros had been assigned to guard the lady and her mother since they arrived just recently, but seeing as Lady Josanne rarely leaves her chambers, he spents the lion's share of his time guarding the Tyrell girl. The Grand Hall is very still, very silent, but outside the storm provides a backdrop of rumbling noise.

Loryn Tyrell had only just received news of his sister's arrival in Oldtown. Since he's living at the Hightower, he isn't really free to come and go as he pleases. But since he is also injured, his knight has given him some time off and so he's hobbling into the Great Hall now with an anxious expression. He hasn't seen his sister for some years. He remembers her as an obnoxious gangly girl who he made cry by tugging her braids and garrotting her dolls. Surely that pretty woman there can't be Lisette? He just stands and stares like an oaf.

Those who look out windows or who listen to chatter might note that there was talk of a boat that had come in a number of minutes ago, the men that crewed the ship looking rather… well, they looked like they were used to a harder life at sea. Dark clothes, grim demeanors - weapons weren't quite numerous in evidence, but most carried hatchets of one kind or another, or full on axes, even if a sword or two could be seen every so often.

It was advertised as a trading ship, after all. One of the resources that the Iron Islands had in abundance was, well, iron.

Flags were raised on the deck as they drew near, displaying the mighty Kraken that gave the Greyjoys their sigil.

Aenyse would be soon to follow. Ignoring - or simply comfortable with - the rainfall that comes with the storm, the woman was wearing pants and a heavy grey cloak, her hair bearing a handful of braids to keep the locks out of them. She was unarmed, but the two men that accompany her - one tall and scraggly, missing half his teeth, the other wide and fat, with a dour complexion - both of those men carried swords at their sides, and the wider one an axe over his back. Aenyse was soon at the door to the manse, no doubt escorted by a handful of Tyrell guards.

Lisette turns and regards the young man, her brother, oh so coolly. Oh yes, she remembers. A smile curves at the corners of her mouth as she rises up and smooths her hands down the front of her blue gown. Her maid rises as well, though slides back a step to defer to her lady. The Purple Cloak is motionless, but his eyes sweep from Lisette to Loryn, then back again.

"You look so very noble when you stand there gawking like that, brother." She is just nineteen, but her bearing is very regal, very serious. There will be no girlish giggles coming from those lips anytime soon. She takes a few steps toward him then pauses, waiting. He would need to clear the distance to greet her. With her hands clasped at her waist, she cants her head to the side and lofts her brows at him. Expectant.

As that awkward moment comes to pass, the ruckus outside the Grand Hall is soon rather within the hall. The arrival of the Greyjoy party is not one Lisette was privvy to, so she watches with great interest as the lady and her men arrive. Andros, her own guard, steps forward, at the ready. Noble life can be rather boring for guards it turns out.

"Lisette, indeed. You've grown.", Loryn states the somewhat bleeding obvious. He does step closer, looking at her, grinning at last. "You've grown boobs!" He starts opening his arms to actually hug her, but their moment is interrupted by the new arrivals. "Ah, that Northron squid.", he realizes, "Garvin asked me over to receive them since he's …. indisposed. Again.", he rolls his eyes, then smiles at Lisette. "We'll catch up in a bit, alright? Let's see what the Greyjoy wants, hopefully he isn't thinking about making you a saltwife." He turns expectantly to the door … and his jaw drops a bit. "That's a woman, isn't it? It sure looks like a woman?", he whispers to Lisette, the clears his throat and steps forward. "Lady Greyjoy, what a honour. I'm, um, Loryn Tyrell and this is my sister Lisette. Garvin is indisposed, unfortunately." His cousin really being the most important Tyrell in town.

There was a dirtiness to the trio of sailors - a dirtiness that probably contrasted with the bright colors and cleansliness of the manse. But there was yet a sharpness in Aenyse's gaze, at least - a sharpness that was mirrored by the gangley man on her left. The one on her right simply looked bored - his eyes roving the most around the manse and grounds as they arrive.

Aenyse's gaze first flickers towards the noblewoman, lingering on her a handful of moments, her eyes pinching just a little tighter as they travel down over her blue gown. For a moment, Aenyse lets her eyes look towards Lisette's own, and she nods her head, before she flicks her gaze towards Loryn.

The men with her likewise might look, but they wouldn't have been selected to come with Aenyse if they were the leering sorts.

Aenyse speaks, her voice a bit on the lower end of the register, and marked with a bit of a 'thick' tone of voice that might give the impression of being a bit slow of mind. "More's the pity, Lord Tyrell," says Aenyse. "Does that mean that your House does not want to trade for iron, if Lord Garvin Tyrell isn't here for it?"

Loryn's discovery that Lisette had both grown and taken on the usual female attributes of being a woman is met with a bored stare and slow exhale of breath from her flared nostrils. She made no move to hug him in return, but that playful slight is interrupted by his reception of visitors. "Try to behave like a proper nobleman, Brother," she murmurs under her breath. The comment about becoming a saltwife causes her jaw to tense, but it soon relaxes when it is revealed that their guest is indeed a woman. Two against one. It is written all over Lisette's features as her brother prattles on like a hen.

Aenyse is given a small curtsey and nod of the Tyrell girl's head. She is at least polite, if aloof. For her part, she is staring, not in an invasive manner, though some appraisal is in that gaze as it wanders over Aenyse's attire. She is curious, and half wondering how this woman will respond to her brother.

The noble girl's grin is a wondrous thing as Loryn is called to do business in the absence of their cousin. It is no secret by her amused expression that she half-hopes he will trip over his own words as he stumbles upon his tongue. All that braid pulling is finally coming home to roost.

Loryn bristles slightly at Aenyse's words. "My cousin is -indisposed-, Mylady.", he says rather sharply, "He did not choose to be, did he? And I am here, am I not? I am perfectly happy to hear your offer and convey it to my cousin and to Lord Matrim, who of course will have the final say in matters. Please -" He points at a small table nearby, "Do take a seat. I'm sure you wouldn't mind some good Dornish wine, would you? Or your… guards?" He takes a look at the grim men, then to Lisette. "Will you join us, dear sister, or will you rather go back to your more ladylike pursuits of embroidery?"

Aenyse's attire wasn't, perhaps, like many would expect. Far from being noble and pretty in appearance, her clothing was functional at the moment. A grey and white tunic of sorts was cinched around the waist with a bit of cord, her pants following suit in colour with the grey and white, leading down into a pair of well-worn, leather boots. Over her shoulders she wore a long coat, a little darker in colour but still in the spectrum of grey - a coat that reached down to her knees of sorts.

The hair of the woman was damp, and so was her coat - but the utility of her clothes might be more evident if one noticed that while the coat and things protected by it might be damp from the storm - the clothes beneath were not.

As Loryn bristles, Aenyse turns her gaze upon him, stare level as her lips purse tightly. When Loryn speaks to his sister of embroidery, there was a snort from the sailor, the woman nonetheless inclining her head. "You are here. But if we aren't speaking to the person who can actually make the trade - I'm not certain what we can talk about," says Aenyse, the woman glancing towards the seat offered. Glancing back to her men, she lifts her chin, the men moving to take their positions nearish the back of her chair first before she too goes to one, resting her hand on the back of the chair.

"Some wine for me and my men would be grand, Lord Tyrell," another pause then, and she looks back to the lady. "I'd like for you to join us. I've always been curious what life is like for the Ladies of the Greenlands," she says, the corner of her lip lifting in a smile - even if the smile does not reach her eyes.

"Oh, Brother, that is so very generous of you to invite me. I would of course leap at the chance to watch you engage in one of your many lordly pursuits. Business is so very fascinating to me. All those words and numbers," Lisette says with a broad grin for Loryn, playing the part of the stupid little girl to his arrogant male. Truly, she looks amused, because there is no harm in being a thorn in one's sibling's side.

Her Purple Cloak silently pulls out her chair for her - she had almost forgotten he was there, Andros is so very shadow-like when his presence is not needed. Kalla was already fetching servants to bring in food and drink, and the plates and goblets appear out of nowhere, settled upon the table in a swift flurry of hands. A full meal is presented before them - hot meats, cheese, and bread.

Lisette's eyes shift to Aenyse and she looks a bit startled at the invitation coming from her as well. "Thank you, My Lady. I would be honoured to join you." It takes some restraint for her not to make a face at her brother, but Lise retains her composure and offers a subded smile to the Lady Greyjoy.

Loryn waits until the food and drinks have been laid out and everyone has settled down - the three nobles at their own table, their staff somewhere nearby. He considers the Ironborn for a longer moment, perhaps more like an anthropologist might study a curious species. "I was not aware that this was merely a one-off trade, Mylady, I have been led to believe that your interest was in establishing a trade route that would see the Iron Islands supplied with fresh nourishment from the fertile Reach and give us some much-needed iron instead?" He sips his wine and plucks a bit of cheese off the plate, happy to just wait - and to ignore his sister's needling.

That subtle smile given her causes Aenyse's eyes to linger on Lisette's own. There was something akin to suspicion hidden in her features - but there was a smile nonetheless on her own features. The food and drink come out, and Aenyse reaches out her hand, palms covered with fingerless gloves to pick up a slice of the hot meats, kinda curling it in her fingers and bringing it to her mouth.

Only after Aenyse takes her first bite do her men avail themselves of the food as well, the wider one - true to stereotype - taking quite a bit more than his companion. There was a moment where the business of the brother was set aside, before she asks Lisette. "And what do you think of this business of trade, Lady Tyrell?" she asks. "Of Iron for food, and vice-versa. Do you find it fair?" asks she of the other woman, before then her eyes return towards Loryn.

"You wouldn't be incorrect," says Aenyse. "But I have a shipment of Iron," one can almost hear the capitalization in her tone, "In my ship. If I could trade it for foodstuffs, the Islands might be more convinced - when we see the quality of the food of flowers," says she. "But if it is anything like this?" another smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "…there should not be any problem at all."

The Tyrell girl's eyes dart slowly between the two as they speak. It is all well and good that everyone exerts their will to keep her here as a bit of a prankish jolt, but when the true business begins, Lisette is indeed silent. For all the sibling foolery, she is wise enough to turn it off completely when the moment demands it.

Wine is poured into their three vessels, and Lisette sips hers delicately while following along in the details. She is a poised and elegant girl, still as a statue as the conversation continues, subtle barbs and all. When a servant comes by to top off her wine, Lise quickly rests her hand over the mouth of the goblet and offers the fainest shake of her head. Her waggled finger back and forth seals the deal. No more wine for her. Not yet.

When Aenyse turns to question her, she is thanking the gods that she had not gulped down her wine like a common drunk. Her eyes dart to her brother, but not in a nervous manner, just as an acknowledgement. "We cannot dictate what resources will be at our disposal, My Lady. Fair or not, it is merely the way things are, quite beyond our control. I am just grateful that we have such good relations as to meet one another's needs."

"Food of flowers, mhm?", Loryn smirks, "We do have a rather nice jam made of roses. Perhaps you'd like to take a sample home? However, I suppose you are more interested in flour to bake bread and cheeses to place onto the bread." He pauses to pluck another piece of cheese from the plate, but doesn't eat it just yet. "Lady… Aenyse, wasn't it? You may not be aware that this is Oldtown and not Highgarden. We do have some food at our disposal, but it will take a while to have what you requested brought here for shipment. Will you be our guest until then? And take my word that what is yours will be delivered?"

The wine was poured for Aenyse, and her men move to take their vessels and sip it - perhaps a little overeagerly. Aenyse does not, her forearm resting on the edge of the table - her hindquarters scooted forward on her seat a bit, so it might give the appearance of slouching back in her chair, her smile falling away from her face.
Her expression was cold without the smile on it, but one might get the idea that that was how things were naturally, rather than a reaction to anything said.

"As am I, Lady Tyrell," says Aenyse to the other. "If not for the bounty of your Greenlands, the Iron Islands would have been barren ages ago," says she. Although that gaze turns towards Loryn then. "Perhaps because of how beautiful this manse is," says Aenyse, her voice having shifted towards a more deadpan, "…we may have forgotten that very fact, Lord Tyrell," says she.

Another pause, and her hands go to finger the vessel carrying the wine for herself, the corners of her eyes pinching, however subtlely. "I would be your guest. I'll have some of my men remove the iron from my ship and return to the Islands for now - and they will return in… two weeks time?" she asks.

She wasn't particularly sure she wanted a boat full of reavers to stay docked in front of a place like this. That might… sour relations, eventually - even if she trusted them to /try/ to behave.

Lisette clasps her hands within her lap and looks down while her brother is speaking. A hint of a rueful smile is there when he mentions the jam, then she glances to Aenyse to see if she finds the comment as amusing as he does.

Lady Aenyse's cold manner is not something that could go easily unnoticed. The Tyrell noblewoman looks to the Greyjoy with all the light and ease of spirit that living well might provide, but there is something behind her fixed smile. Guilt perhaps, or fear. Aenyse's message is loud and clear. "We are honoured to have you as a guest, Lady Aenyse. If there is anything that I might provide to make your time here more omfortable, please just say the word. Kalla is my lady-in-waiting, so should you need her for an errand, please do not hesitate to send for her." The servant girl looks stricken, and stares at the ground wide-eyed. A Greyjoy is not the kind of guest a meek housegirl is interested in serving, to be sure.

Loryn looks actually pleased that Lisette is taking the initiative on the whole hosting a guest thing. "You will be in good hands, Mylady. There's my sister, my cousins Kesha and Keyte Tyrell and since Garvin lives here, you will eventually meet him as well I'm sure. I don't live here, I live at the Hightower, but you can always send for me if the need arises." He pauses, nodding along to her suggestion that the iron be brought on land. "Two weeks for a trip to the Islands and back? That sounds rather optimistic to me.", he points out, "Your ship can berth at the main harbour and accommodation can be found there for your men.", he offers, "Then you are ready to sail as soon as the supplies from Highgarden arrive. And in the meantime, you are welcome to rise our rose jam and our apple wine and whatever other specialities you may like to try from the Reach."

That would be rather optimistic for a trip to the Islands and back.

That was a clue that Aenyse didn't perhaps mean to send them there. But whatever other plans she might have had for her men, Aenyse inclines her head once to Loryn. Even if Aenyse's attention shifts to Lisette soon afterwards. There was a narrowing of her eyes, and the corners of her lips pinch a bit further, and for the space of a few seconds - not overly long, even if she cared less about staring - she looks - as if trying to read whatever secrets lay beneath that smile.

It was Kalla then, that she turns her attention to next - but only for the space of a moment, long enough to read the anguish plainly there. That seemed to bring a bit more lightness back into her demeanor. "Thank you, Lady Tyrell. Your graciousness knows no bounds," she says, adding just enough lilt to her voice to take away any sarcasm the words may have had.

It was to Loryn that her attention turns last. "And your own graciousness, Lord Tyrell. I do hope that our families can come to a mutually pleasant arrangement," says she. With a push of her hand against the side of the table, she pulls her own chair out and rises to a stand, picking up the vessel of wine to take a swig of it, before setting it down.

"If our business is done now, I'll make the arrangements with my men," she says.

Lisette looks to Kalla and quickly settles a stern glare upon her handmaiden that is fleeting yet says all it needs to within the span of a scant few seconds. 'You will do my bidding.' Even if that involves a gruff Greyjoy. Imagine if Aenyse had been a man… The young servant girl trembles for a moment then nods to her lady.

Soon Lise is turning to smile at Aenyse, her hands pressed together as if in prayer against her chin. "You flatter me, Lady Aenyse. I would not be a proper lady of House Tyrell if I did not expend every drop of energy I had to make your stay favourable. Anything you desire shall be yours. The Garden Isle has much more to offer than rose jam, I assure you." The girl now looks to her brother and lofts her left brow haughtily. There will be words. Later.

"Ah, I'm sure you'll get along just swimmingly.", Loryn grins and when Aenyse gets up, he does the same to offer her a bow. "Of course, Mylady. It's been a pleasure to meet you. A welcome dinner will be offered to you tonight and I look forward to seeing you again then." He so ignores Lisette's dangerously lifted eyebrow. He's immune to it after seventeen years of exposure.

Loryn watches the GReyjoy woman and her entourage leave and only shakes his head when they are all gone. "Strange woman, that. Don't they have nice clothes on the Iron Islands? Truly a barbarian place.", he mutters. When Lisette gets to her feet, he approaches her with a big grin, extending both arms to her. "Now do I finally get my hug, sis? What's brought you here to Oldtown? Have you missed me so much?" He will totally hug her if she doesn't stop him.

Lisette will allow it. She is taller, yes, and fuller in those places where a woman should be fuller. But her style of dress is rather modest, even for a flowery Tyrell. She is much prettier, of course, having doffed that awkward gawkiness that made her long and foolish looking. Her wide eyes and plump mouth now fit her adult face, whereas before she looked like a baby animal. Loryn might have noted that in their youth… "Of course I missed you, my sweet brother," she coos, her arsenal of feminine wiles practiced even on her own kin. "Mother was very sad without Father, so I told her we should go on a trip to see how the simple folk live. She enjoys the common food of Oldtown, she is so very odd like that."

Releasing Loryn, or herself, from the hug, she steps back and sits again, taking note of the place where the Greyjoy party just exited. "Be careful there. Your sharp wit won't earn you any confidence with that one. She is mannish, though, so I think I can help you there. And she certainly took to Kalla," she adds with a wide-eyed expression meant to torment her lady's maid.

"Mother is here?" Loryn seems ready to jump out of his skin at the prospect, but calms down again, "She did seem fairly upset when I saw her in Highgarden, so it may do her some good to be out here." He ponders her description of the Ironborn for a moment then shrugs. "Well, I don't know and I don't care. She's Garvin's problem really, not mine. I'll let him know she arrived though." He sits back again to continue eating and drinking, while looking at this all-new sister. "And what brings YOU here? Hunting for a husband perhaps?", he wonders.

"Yes, you silly boy. She is here. I would not allow her to travel alone. After you and… Laurent left she said the grounds felt very empty. Though why she would miss Laurent is beyond me. They never got on very well. His leaving should have pleased her." It is on the tip of her tongue, that it pleased her at least. When Lise was very small she loved her big brother very much, but as time passed and his displeasing look and manner caused him to shun the world in self-loathing, she followed his lead and began to loathe him as well. His self hate and complaining more than anything. But… she did feel for him. He was her brother. He was so very ugly. What a painful life.

She is thinking on this philosophical matter when she hears the last bit from Loryn and settles an incredulous gaze upon him. "Hunt for a husband? Really, Loryn. How much hunting do you think I would need to do? Stop being a child." Says the nineteen year old. "Are you wife hunting?" she asks, throwing the immaturity right back at him.

"No I am not.", Loryn says quickly, though his blush might suggest otherwise. "And a word from someone who's been here for a while now: Good husbands don't drop from the skies. There's plenty of competition around. And many useless men I wouldn't inflict even on you. But there are a few good eggs. I'll introduce you to them.", he promises with a big grin, then leaps to his feet. "We must catch up more, dear sis - I need to tell you all about my amazing success on the stage - but I'm afraid I need to return to the Hightower now or Ser Brynden will be angry with me."

Lisette rises from her seat yet again and walks over to her brother, who receives a kiss to the cheek in parting. "I looking forward to hearing all about your tales from Oldtown. Sleep well, brother. Call on me soon. The manse can be a bit dreary in all this rain. I would enjoy meeting all of the /finer/ people you have come across. Oh, and I have to tell you about the sellsword we happened upon on the way here. Very exciting." She smiles at him and nods to Kalla to refill her wine before traipsing across the room to sit in the window and watch the storm outside.

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