| Sparring in the Gardens |
| Summary: | A sparring session with a small audience takes place in the gardens of the Dragon Door Manse. |
| Date: | 14/06/2014 |
| Related: | None |
| Players: |
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Walled Garden - Dragon Door Manse
The Dragon Door Manse has a large walled garden behind. The tall stone walls have iron spikes topping them to prevent climbers, and a heavy double oak-and-iron gate leading into the alley behind. It's quite solid, though there is a little door in it that one might open to look out. Near that gate is the stables, with an attached mews on one side and kennels on the other. There's a small paddock for the horses behind the stables, and in front of it a space for training at arms, with a simple pell as well as a more complex practice dummy that can pivot when struck. These utilitarian areas are separated from the rest by a lower, and gateless, wall. Orange trumpet-creeper grows over it in most places.
Between this wall and the garden is a great fire pit, ringed in glossy black stones, each cut to interlock with the next and engraved with the image of a dragon. They're all in slightly different poses.
Nearer to the Manse is the garden proper. Its has winding stone paths and is planted thickly in flowers and trees. Most of the blooms range in colour from fire-orange to blood red. Deep purples are also included in the garden's otherwise limited palette. The pride of the plantings is an enormous flowering quince tree, some thirty feet tall — not large for a tree, but vast for one of its type. Clearly it has been pruned for generations to take on this form, single-trunked, with its branches curving up and then down in a fountain shape. Each of them nearly touches the ground and is heavy with bright red-orange flowers. One can step through them to stand hidden under the umbrella of blossoms, shaded and cool.
Most of Oldtown's grand manses have a fountain at the center of their gardens. Here there are only a few small ones, here and there along the paths. At the center there is, instead, a black stone pavilion, standing in the open and unshaded by any trees. It is seven-sided, with arched doorways on its East and West walls. It is otherwise glazed, including its domed roof. The glass is black and clear and red, pieced together to form the three-headed dragon sigil of House Targaryen. The image is repeated on the floor inside, in red jasper set into the black marble. The pavilion houses long curved benches of that same black stone. It gets tremendously hot inside.
Kelinyx does finish her cup and trundle to the bottle for another pour, but she doesn't fill the thing at least. "I guess just here. I don't remember a lot of it. I remember Bryn, I remember Eonn, I remember the Mormonts. I remember taking Torby's ears. I remember fighting a lot and stealing a lot. I remember being cold and hungry a lot. I remember Ba…" She drinks instead of continuing, apparently her origin or lineage too blurred.
Daevon's dozing again, a light blanket thrown over him. There's a basket filled with Dornish healing supplies near his feet, and an unopened jewelry box on the table next to him. Atop that is a small leather pouch. Eonn's lying on the ground staring at the sky. Malcolm and Keli are speaking.
Faelyn enters the garden with slow steps looking around calmly. The Targaryen princess looks a touch uncomfortable and judging by the way she keeps smoothing out her dress that could be why. She spots Kelinyx speaking with a man she does not know along with Eonn and the dozing Daevon. She quietly begins to make her way over speaking softly so as not to disturb anyone. "Good day to you Kelinyx." She gives the man with her a curious look. "I don't think we have met before."
Malcolm sips his bit of cordial, expression still thoughtful. His lip quirks up in amusement, he has a Southcoast Stormlands lilt to his voice, "It would be hard to forget the Mormonts, I think. They make an impression Cold and hungry is no fun at all. Better to be warm and fed, warm particularly, I think." He touch his hilt, "I promise to do my best to look you in the eye if you go cold, though no man knows his courage in a particular situation unless tested by it." Then he is standing, clearly alarmed by the approach of the Princess. He sweeps a deep bow, all efficient Grace, and keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, "Your pardon, Your Grace. I am Ser Malcolm Storm, acknowledged of Kellington, Sworn to the Starks."
Kelinyx looks over Faelyn in her, well, different-from-last-time garb. "Hello, Princess," she says quietly. Having not been told to keep it secret, she confides, "You look nicer in your armor." She sips from the sweet juice with just a touch of alcohol, glances back to the reclining Eonn, then says of Malcolm, "He is Eonn's friend. He makes fish faces sometimes."
Daevon's eyes drift open. He smiles, a little fuzzily at Faelyn. "Hello. You're wearing a dress." The last seems somewhat surprised. "It looks nice." He adds just in case his words seem like a criticism.
"A pleasure to meet you Ser Malcolm. I am Princess Faelyn Targaryen." Faelyn looks the man over curiously but Kelinyx's words along with Daevon's have her laughing softly. She smiles at Kelinyx. "I too prefer the armor. The dress make me feel…odd. Too soft I suppose." She looks to Daevon and offers him a soft smile. "Well I'm glad someone likes it. My servants have a constant battle to keep me from tossing on mens clothing and shocking people even more. I can be a lady but that doesn't mean I enjoy it very much."
Oddly enough, Kelynx mention of armour and the implication that her being in a dress is unusual seem to relax Malcolm from his startled cat look. He is studying her now from under lowered lids, the way a man studies a potential fencing opponent, not as a man generally studies a woman. His posture is still deferential and his face still titled down.
Eonn shifts and sits up, to look to Faelyn now. "My princess," he says.
"Mine are always trying to fit me into impractical clothes too," Daevon admits. "Hmm. I don't suppose you'd be willing to spar?" he asks. "Only I suppose neither of you are dressed for it in all the finery. It'd be nice to watch some swordplay even if I can't participate."
Kelinyx scoots across the floor to cling to Eonn's arm, often about his feet like his cats, but a bit more grabby for the man's attention. When sparring is mentioned she smirks. "I can go get the practice swords, yeh?" Drink, drink, toothy grin (save the one barely budding upper corner tooth).
Eonn smiles at Keli, "Of course, girl. Go get them. And be careful. Princesses are dangerous, you know."
The way Malcolm relaxs a bit is noticed by Faelyn and she studies him in return her gaze assessing him. When Daevon mentions sparring she smiles faintly. "I may not be as good in a dress but this one shouldn't slow me down to much. I am quite willing to spar if Ser Malcolm is? I did promise to spar with you Ser Daevon but I think you still have some recovering to do first. But I can still try and give you a bit of a show." She smiles playfully at Daevon and looks to Malcolm in question.
Malcolm grins mischievously, "You were saying you were bored, My Prince, and if the Princess does not mind me removing my doublet, I would be happy to oblige." There is an eagerness in his posture now, though his speech remains formal.
Daevon's smiling eagerly at the very idea. "Thank you."
Kelinyx drains her half-cup and darts off, boots smacking the floor like bare feet, hinting at their soft soles. She's indeed quick, because soon she's back with her arms full, two short swords and two longer ones, hugging their harmless wooden blades to keep them all in her scrawny arms. "Do either of you fight with two swords?" she asks eagerly, standing right between the two, the animated little weapons rack of a girl.
Faelyn smirks at Malcolm. "You may remove your doublet if I may remove these shoes. Heels are not practical and I'll be glad to get out of them." She slips her small feet out of the slippers and places them to one side out of the way. She waits for Kelinyx to return with the practice swords looking Malcolm over carefully though Daevon also gets a glance and a warm smile. When the girl returns Faelyn smiles at her. "I fight with a longsword and a shield normally though I might be able to manage with just the longsword for today." She looks to Malcolm curiously and selects one of the long practice swords testing its weight in her hand carefully. She seems satisfied and takes a step back letting the knight pick his own weapon now.
Eonn chuckles. "Do you want to move to a better view, My Prince?" he asks Daevon. "Or have another glass?"
"Oh I was hoping they'd trample the flowerbeds," Daevon admits. "I suppose I should move." He tries to stand up, a bit wobbly on his bare feet, and the blanket's all tangled around him. He makes a sound of frustation. "Maybe just turn the chair around, I guess."
Malcolm bows to the Princess again, "Shall we fight Braavosi or Knightly style? Of course, make yourself comfortable, Your Grace. I would like this as fair a test on both sides as can be had." He shakes his head to Kelinyx, "One is fine for me. I will take the other long sword." He turns his back to unbuckle his sword belt and sets it carefully aside. The lacings on his best doublet take longer. He folds it carefully and sets it with the sword when it is off. He stretches his legs and wrists to prepare, then takes possession of the matching practice sword. There is a small lump under his shirt suggestive of a pendant concealed there. He watches the Princess, expression fierce and rather joyful.
The wee girl snickers in agreement with Faelyn's commentary on heels. The big swords gone, her little daggers always glittering at her hip, she holds the shortswords one to a hand. Be it the eagerness of a warrior-to-be or the comic antics of a child with weapons that look huge in her hands, Keli sets off to her own twitchy, erratic style of air fencing. For now, two swords might be too much for her, as they occasionally clack together, but she half-dances, half-battles the invisible foes in a way that puts her in the background to Eonn's and Daevon's sight, and well out of the way of the two adult warriors preparign to spar.
"I like the flower beds," says Eonn, amused. He moves to help Daevon steady himself, putting a long arm around the other man.
Daevon leans in against Eonn, grateful for that stabilising influence. "It's stupid." He mutters under his breath. "I shouldn't be this weak." There's a brief flash of fear, pain even as he looks at Eonn, and he pushes that away, letting himself be guided to a better spot.
"I know little of Braavosi fighting so I would prefer to fight as a Knight would." Faelyn offers Malcolm a smile and an incline of her head watching him carefully with a rather excited expression. She takes a few steps back making sure they will have plenty of room and then slides gracefully into a fighting stance watching the knight carefully waiting for him to be ready.
Malcolm bows again, and starts to circle her. His steps are deliberately irregular. He is so focused on his new opponent he misses the biplay between Eonn and Daevon. he does call to the girl, "I could give you lessons sometime if you like, Keli. 'Tis best a woman can defend herself at need." Under the distraction of his words and movement, he strikes without warning for her ribs.
"It'll get better," Eonn whispers to Daevon. He guides the knight over to a better spot to view the sparring, saying to Kelinyx, "Bring the chair, girl," in a more conversational volume.
Faelyn circles Malcolm as well his irregular steps trhowing her off a little. She tries to dodge back out of the way but she is a bit too slow and the practice sword hits her in the ribs. She does her best to hide the wince her dress not offering much protection at all. She aims a strike for Malcolm's chest and continues to circle him her expression calm as she looks for an opening and stays ready to try and block any other attacks he might deliver.
Kelinyx hmphs at the request but moves to fulfill it, dodging the bruise-inducing swordplay and setting the wooden swords in the seat, scooting it to the new location, then tugging them out so poor Dae doesn't poke his rump. "I can fight good, but I don't use swords. I'll put a dozen knives in a fool's belly before he can get across to reach me!" she sing-songs, as delighted about her own troublemaking abilities as she was the cordial. Then it's back to her practicing, this time with two hands on a single weapon, mimicing the two before her in short-attention-span turns.
Malcolm is treating her exactly as he does any other opponent. His strikes are solid, rather than pulled, but deliberately shallow so as not to do real damage. His own shirt and hose are summer weight and so too thin to protect him either, though his cod is leather reinforced against accident. He deflects her strike and with a clever twist around her sword, binds and yanks, in an attempt to disarm.
Daevon sits down in the offered seat and watches the swordplay with great interest.
Eonn watches Keli's prancing as much as he watches the sparring. He smiles, amused.
Faelyn's sword goes flying and the Princess is quick to go after it retriving it quickly and wirling about to face Malcolm once again. There is a look of excited delight in her eyes and she aims a quick strike for his free arm. She circles him once more her expression showing that she is enjoying this a great deal.
The little one is stirred by the combat, squeaking or laughing as the sides shift, both fighters quick and dangerous. With a single sword she's doing well enough, the blade going where she sends it. As usual, most of her show is in bends and rolls and tucks and ducks and jumps, her interest in rabbits inspiring her erratic movements. She pauses to watch the other two, and seems to try to mirror the party who looks at disadvantage as much as possible, using their bruises and blows to gauge her own fighting against an adult sized opponent. Better still, she remains out of their way, nearer her guardian and his Prince.
Malcolm looks genuinely pleased that the disarming made her fiercer rather than discouraging her. He shakes out the arm that she hit. He tries a feint and a lunge, curious to see how she reponds.
Faelyn doesn't fall for the feint, instead she smirks and moves gracefully to the side and swings her practice sword at Malcolm's ribs in a well controled strike. She is completely focused on her opponet and continues to stay on the move circling around him. She seems pleased with Malcolm's skill as well if her expression is anything to go by.
Malcolm laughs in real delight as she gets him again, clearly enjoying her skill. He ooffs as the wood connects with his rib and is enough short of breath that his sweep at her thigh is unimpressive.
"Ooh! Ah! Strike! Parry! Dodge! Thrust!" Keli isn't so much narrating as living in a blended world of the lovely display of skilled combatants and her own mental dressing-up of the event. "Now off with 'is head! Yarrr!" She makes a vicious swipe! "Now gut 'er like a dinner duck! Ungh!" She swipes an imagined opponent from nave to chops. "Guuuuuts and blooood!" she grumbles out like a gleeful faux-foe killing machine.
Eonn laughs now. What with Keli's antics, he can't help it.
Faelyn moves out of the way of the sweep to her thigh striking at Malcolm's chest now. Its a bit slower than her former strikes though and will likely be easily dodged. Her breathing is even and she doesn't appear to be short of breath yet at all as she continues to circle and watch the knight with an excited violet gaze.
Malcolm parries and tries a slice at her arm. He too is breathing evenly, intent on their spar.
Too caught up in her fantasies of grisly victory, Kelinyx thrusts her sword up and lets it clatter aside, instead wallowing in the entrails of her fallen dream combatants, pretending to specifically string out intenstines about her neck in a heinous trophy. The cats seem unimpressed, but the little one is happily spent, watching the others fight upside-down while giving harmless little kicks at Eonn and Daevon's feet. Perhaps Daevon was the intended party for cheering up, but it seems Keli is getting the most out of her ticket to the show.
Faelyn blocks the blow to her arm with her sword and then swings her blade towards Malcolm's knee trying to slow him or knock him off balance. There is a good deal of power behind that attack if it manages to hit.
Malcolm's leg gives out, though he managed to turn so as not to damage the knee for real. He rolls diagonally away, keeping hold of his sword. He pops up in a stance, "Best two out of three, Your Grace?"
Faelyn watches Malcolm's show of acrobatics with an impressed violet gaze. When he pops back up on his feet she grins and nods to him still in her own fighting stance. "Very well Ser Malcolm." She starts to circle him once more.
Malcolm steps out and tries a strike for her hand. "You really are good. Do you spar much with the Maiden knight?"
"Bah!" Keli exclaims in pretend frustration. "They're gonna end up purple like grapes!" she proclaims, twisting about and popping up in Daevon's field of view, giving him a cheeky grin. "Do you think we can practice when you feel better, Dae…Prince Daevon?" she asks, with a glance over her shoulder to the action, then turning back to model her pretend guts necklace for the two men aside.
Eonn grins, watching Keli with pleasure and perhaps pride.
Daevon smiles at Keli. "Of course. I'd love to. I'm up at dawn every day. Feel free to join me. Only once I'm better." He does try to peer around Keli to see the sparring.
Faelyn blocks that next strike and smiles at Malcolm. "Thank you. You are very good yourself." She aims a quick hit for his sword arm that seems likely to miss altogether. "I have not had the chance to spar with Ser Daevon yet no…But I hope to correct that soon."
Malcolm laughs, "It's not a good spar if you aren't purple after, Keli. This is a good spar." He blocks her, then swings around to smack her thigh. "I think he will enjoy it once he is feeling a little better."
"I'll spar with all and any! Just ask the cats and the peacocks!" The girl, for all her exuberance, very lightly hugs her arms around Eonn's waist, tucking her head under his arm and content to cling away. "Not a house pet or garden beast in the land that doesn't fear me," she says, not for anyone's amusement but her own, and not loudly enough to botch the battle.
Eonn bows to scoop up Kelinyx and turn her upside down, holding her by the heels. "Be nice to cats and peacocks," he says. "You're not /that/ hungry."
The sound of the blade smacking against Faelyn's thigh is heard and the princess winces a little as the hit connects. Yes that will definatly be purple later. She aims another strike at Malcolm's knee trying not to let the pain in her thigh slow her down too much.
Malcolm winces himself at the sound, having hit harder than he intended. He dances back, as her sword glances off his leg, but his counter stroke goes wild.
"Bwalgh!!!" Keli's speedy, yes, perhaps not enough to avoid the attack (or is that what she *wants* Eonn to think?!), but at least speedy enough to keep her tunic-dress pressed to her thighs with a clap of the hands. Not that Eonn might not get a scruffy urchini rump aimed at him, regardless. "Yee-awwwwn! C'mon, put me down, I don't never hurt them! They come after me! They want my title! My fame and glory!" Someone has been spending too much time around Targaryens.
Eonn sways Kelinyx back and forth by her ankles. "Why should I put you down?" he says. "You don't /really/ want that."
The wild hit easily misses Faelyn but her next strike is just as wild and unlikely to hit. She can't help but smile at Kelinyx and her antics though she doesn't break her concentration from Malcolm to look that way.
Malcolm keeps trying to step off her line of attack, keeps moving, but the antics from the audience are not particularly good for his concentration either. He swings towards her sword arm.
"You better," Keli burps, "Be glad I wasn't drinkin' wine, then! I'd sully yer boots and blast you with toots!" Back to the fart jokes, the wild child goes, only play fighting as she gets the most unique perspective on the battle yet, a huge smile on her oval face.
"Ha!" says Eonn, dropping Keli gently to the ground in front of him.
The strike towards Faelyn's arm is blocked and then the Princess aims a somewhat slow hit at Malcolms chest the commotion also affecting her ability to concentrate. Her eyes are focused watching Malcolm and following his movements. She moves quick chasing after him as he moves away and doing her best to dodge back before he strikes.
Kelinyx drops down as graceful as a cat, hugging her arms about one of Daevon's legs and tugging some of the blanket over herself. Eonn gets one last play-angry kick of booted foot to booted foot, but if he looks in time he might see her happy smile, no less.
Malcolm steps back with one foot making himself a smaller target before trying to startle her with a lunge. "You aren't like the other Princesses, are you?"
Eonn pokes at Keli with his soft-soled boot, playful.
Faelyn jumps back out of the way of the lunge the attempt to starle her working somewhat. She shakes it off and grins striking at Malcolm's knee once again. "I don't think I am no…not many Princesses would rather be knights and train to fight after all." She smirks faintly locking her eyes with his for a moment.
Poor Dae appears to be lost in the battle, and even a Keli attached to his calf cannot rouse him from his fixation on the soft combat. Good enough a time as any to start inching out her arm, obscured by blanket, for more delicious drink, yeh.
Malcolm looks back at her with real approval as he deflects low, "Prince Daevon isn't like the others either. I am proud to call him friend." He lets the implication hang as he strikes for her forearm again.
"Mine," Daevon murmurs as Keli tries to steal his drink. His voice is rough, sleepy. "Princesses ride dragons. The first Visenya was a warrior, we've a grand tradition of fighting women. My Visenya'll tell you all about them."
Eonn settles back, looking at Daevon and Keli.
Faelyn dodges away the strike to her forearm missing by just a little. She aims a quick hit to Malcolm's shoulder next and keeps moving cicling around slowly ready to spring into action at the first sign of an opening or attack.
The dark-haried girl frowns. "I was gonna take the bottle, not your cup. I'm a thief, not rude," she replies to Daevon. "The point was for, erh erh," she makes a shoulder wiggle toward her guardian, "not to see. Can't get away with no wickedness 'round here," she mutters, accepting the dismal fate of only one and a half cups of light booze. Better not to push it too far, what with erh erh right over her shoulder.
"Bottle's mine," Daevon says. "No stealing my things. Please no. There's lots of wine if you want that. This is special." He sighs, tired.
Eonn pokes at Keli with his foot some more. "Behave yourself," he tells her.
Kelinyx frowns a little and lets out a soft sound of self-reproach. "Sorry, m'Prince. It is special, you're right," she says, not exactly known for her apologies and shy to it but at least sincere. A boot prodding at her she looks up to Eonn and nods. The fantastic show of combat will have to suffice - woe is her.
Malcolm steps out of the way and offline again. Hoping she's lulled by now into circling one way, he tries to dart the other and strike at her hip, "There aren't many bottles of that made in a year, Keli. It's for special occasions."
"Come here, girl," Eonn tells Keli. He doesn't seem the least disturbed.
Faelyn dodges rather easily away from the strike sending one of her own at Malcolm's leg before she dances out of reach once more. She smiles faintly and starts to circle him once more.
"I let you have some," Daevon says. "Since you're special too. I know it's delicious."
"Alas, my Prince, your grace is too…uh…kind…uhh…" Keli springs up and hides behind Eonn, too ashamed now to actually accept any more but still giving Daevon a cheery grin.
Malcolm before, he was mostly watching her neck as they fought, now the flamboyantly haired man is watching her face, "How exactly are you two related, may I ask?"
Eonn spins about to try to catch Keli again.
Daevon's looking a little sad. He closes his eyes for a moment and then turns back to watching the fighting.
Kelinyx laughs as she is caught, again not really fighting to avoid it, instead spider climbing up him if he doesn't pluck her away, going to hang on his hip and toss arms around her neck. All the better to peek at purpling parriers and pouting princes.
"We are cousins." Faelyn replies easily aiming a strike at the upper part of Malcolm's sword arm. She too is watching Malcolm's face a small smile appearing on her lips as they continue thier fight.
Eonn shifts and twists to put Keli up on his shoulders.
Malcolm nods, taking that in, "You are so much more like him than his twin." His tone suggests this is a compliment. He fails to dart out of the way in time, clearly still distracted. He tries to stab under her guard, a similar smile twitching his own lips.
Kelinyx looks utterly content there, atop her mighty steed and regal as she might well ever manage, at least in presence. She can't but notice Daevon's growing quietness, though, and leans over to give him a good eyeballing, perhaps even he might see the silly face she puts on in the act, her simple attempt to keep him in good spirits.
Eonn holds Keli's lower legs to keep her steady on his shoulders. He's tall. It's a good view from up there. The orange cat comes out from under the rosebush to twine around his legs.
Faelyn looks curious at Malcolm's words and her head tilts as she takes a quick glance to Daevon before refocusing and dodging back keeping her guard up. She strikes at Malcolm's shoulder once more.
Daevon tries to stifle a yawn. He's mostly sleepy now. Even the smile he offers Kelinyx is a lazy thing.
Malcolm rolls with the hit, but his attack is weak. His feet dance him closer, his eyes fixed on hers. He attempts to bind her sword in a clinch like he did the first time.
"Eventually they'll get tired," Eonn tells Keli, slowing his swaying until it's a sort of soothing rocking movement. "But for now? Forever."
Faelyn isn't fooled by that move a second time twisting her sword away and trying to aim a smack to Malcolm's hand instead. She keeps eye contact with him moving back a little and circling around.
Malcolm dances back, again, but follows her with a flurry trying to fluster her and break her guard. There is something more serious and intense in his eyes now.
Faelyn meets his eyes raising a brow at the suddenly serious gaze. She seems curious and the flurry of blows don't faze her at all. She returns the favor with a few quick blows of her own.
The tiny girl rests her chin atop Eonn's head, eyes squinting tighter as the warriors trade bruises and bat at each others' egos. As the drizzle starts to fall, the little one curls tighter about her guardian and peers to the kitty at Eonn's feet.
Eonn settles down to sit at Daevon's feet, leaning a bit against his legs, and letting the sleepy child rest against the other man as well.
Daevon's starting to get wet from the drizzle, the thin clothes he's wearing clinging to him and the bandages getting somewhat damp. Common sense would suggest he moves, or he goes inside, or something, but no he just remains there, sleepily watching the sparring.
Malcolm takes the bruises as the price of pressing his own attack. he keeps up the barrage, utterly intent, trying to back her up against a wall or the gazebo.
Faelyn's eyes narrow a bit her own determined nature showing through as she presses her attack as well. She does her best to avoid getting pinned in moving to the side as she continues to press her attack and try and hold Malcolm's attacks off at the same time. The drizzle has her silk dress damp and clinging to her body and yet she doesn't seem to be inclined to give up any time soon.
Malcolm bruises can already be seen through the pale, thin fabric of his shirt and the pendant is picked out enough that one can tell it's roughly triangular. The rain darkens the blue in his hair and beard so it is closer to the black of his natural hair. He keeps pressing, keeps trying to corner her, until he snakes the sword out over her guard, using his long arms to try to touch her above her heart with the tip of his sword.
The black dress hides any brusies Faelyn might have except the ones on her arms which are quite noticeable. She is focused on not getting backed into a corner so when the blade slips by her guard and presses against breast over her heart she goes still smiling faintly. "And it seems you win Ser Malcolm." She studies him intently her gaze curious but still calm. "You are very skilled and it was a pleasure to spar with you." She takes a slow step back and offers him a bow.
Malcolm studies her as well, the crinkle around his eyes and the tug of his lips suggesting a playfulness. He bows back, "I would gladly spar with you any time, My Princess. You are a very challenging blade." His dark eyes watch her with a touch of wistfulness. He has forgotten the spectators at this point and the rain signifies nothing to the Stormlander except slicker footing.
"I would very much enjoy sparring with you again as well." Faelyn lowers her blade and steps a bit closer her eyes meeting his with a soft and affectionate smile on her lips. "Though I also think I would enjoy speaking with you as well if you would allow it?" Her eyes shine with a playful sparkle. She studies him a long moment noting the wistful expression with some curiousity. "Is there something else you wish to say Ser Malcolm?"
Malcolm holds his ground, tilting his head to watch her smile. His lilt is stronger and if anything even less posh as he says softly, "I would like that very much, the speaking as well as the talking." He laughs softly at himself, "Ah, no. I'd but a country lad, and you being a Dragon Princess, you'd likely have to bring a chaperone if I wanted to take you riding or have a picnic…."
Violet eyes widen a bit at that last sentance. Faelyn smiles softly a slight light pink blush appearing on her pale cheeks. For once she seems to be acting like a lady and its not at all forced. Her voice is soft as she asks him. "And do you want this? I might be able to make arrangements if thats what you want. I will have to bring a chaperone but if you don't mind that then…" She goes silent looking unsure for a moment then she smiles softly amused. She mumbles softly so only they can hear. "I can face an armored man twice my size in battle without fear but infront of one I find attractive I suddenly become dense and nervous." She lowers her head the blush spreding quickly across her cheeks now.
Malcolm steps close enough that he can breathe in her ear, with a soft intercity, "I would very much, but I have no name but Storm and my house is all rocks and fish and relatives, and you are the most lovely and fierce of the Dragon princes, and I might lose my head for even thinking of the softness of your lips and the sharpness of your blade." So close, he smells of his own dark musk, raised by exercise, as well as leather, metal polish, and the sea. He lifts his hand as if to touch her jaw with long, calloused fingers, but then he steps back, dropping his eyes like proper gentry in the presence of a Targaryon.
Faelyn takes in a slow breath inhaling his scent and peeks up at him with a soft almost shy little smile. But then he pulls back and she watches him lower his eyes with a frown. She sighs. "Ser Malcolm." Her voice is soft. "I…" She freezes up blushing even more when she cannot find the words. "I should go inside and get out of this wet dress….excuse me." She turns and hurries inside completely forgetting about the slippers she removed earlier.
Malcolm watches her go, with his face still tilted down that she might not see the hunger with which he watches her retreat.