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Last night's party ran until dawn. While the servants have started to clean up the manse proper, the garden is all rather damp paper lanterns, empty goblets and picked over trays of last night's nibbles. The Prince is missing his costume head, but is otherwise dressed in his phoenix costume still, and is as rumpled as if he slept under a bush last night. He is picking at sauson and cheese nibbles and sipping lemonade, while peering blearily at a fountain.
Edwyn had attended the party as well, dressed as a lion. It wasn't a very original costume but that hardly mattered to the blonde. What did matter was the wine…oh the wine. Edwyn happened to over indulge a bit, well a lot really. Currently he is sprawled under a table curled into a ball and snoring lightly. He had passed out just before dawn after trying to dance on and then falling off a table. Its a good thing Lannisters have hard heads yes? The Lannisport heir's mask is askew, his clothing is rumpled, and his hair is a birds nest of messy golden waves. Still he sleeps on his snoring growing in volume slightly now.
In truth, the Prince drank himself under a bush well before dawn after a particularly huggy and disgraceful four hour long 'I love you man' phase, and the clumsiness of his hands suggests he is still half drunk while being rather hung over at the same time. The snoring under the table at which he is slumped gets his attention. After some peering around, he locates the source of the noise and leans over to look. Recognizing his business associate, he carefully removes his feet from his accidental foot prop and gently shakes the young man's shoulder. In a slightly slurred voice he slowly asks, "Hair of the dog?"
Edwyn grunts is his sleep and rolls over to face where the Prince is peering down at him. His eyes don't open just yet and he curls further in on himself doing a marvelous job of pretending to be a human shaped ball. He didn't stir when the feet were propped against him or when they moved away but once Dhraegon speaks. Edwyn bolts upright. "I didn't do it! I swear I did not steal that woman's cake!" He blurts loudly bonking his hand on the underside of the table with a wince. He blinks and looks up meeting the Princes purple eyes. "Um…oh…right it was just a dream. Sorry." And then he slumps down again blushing. After a moment he seems to realize he is under a table and it feels like he has a massive angry dragon stomping around in his head. He groans softly. "So that's why father limits my wine intake…ow." He put his head in his hands and waits for the throbbing to subside.
Dhraegon is in no condition to giggle. He winces both at the yell and the bonk, with which he sympathizes. He smiles ruefully, "I have pastry and lemonade fortified with a bit of rum. Good for what ails you." He offers the boy a big soft hand, in case he wants a bit of help, "If you're more comfortable under there, I understand, but the awning's up against the light if you want to chance it." His tone is kindly enough, through the slight slur and slow delivery.
Edwyn gives a slightly pained smile. "Rum…rum is good. Maybe if I drink more I'll hurt less?" He accepts the hand and will pull himself up out from under the table stumbling a bit and bonking his head again but he makes it up and glares at the table as if it was a mortal enemy. "That table is evil." H mutters and the he will slump into the seat next to Dhraegon with a slowly released breath. He gives the prince a faint smile his head still smarting from the hangover that was just aggravated by the worlds most evil table. "Thank you." He says it quietly trying not to cause either of their aching heads to ache even more.
Dhraegon nods wisely, His voice pitched to be kind to both their heads. "Very evil, but it holds the rum." He pours a goblet for Edwyn a bit shakily. The lemonade is tart, with just enough honey to make it pleasant. It is cool, being fresh from the ice cellar, and the rum is just enough to take the edge off. It has fresh spearmint leaves in it, for the digestion. He nudges the nibbles between them, "To cushion the stomach." He sighs, "I am not as young as I was…"
"In that case I shall refrain from seeking vengeance on it." Edwyn smiles faintly and takes the goblet taking a slow sip from it letting out a soft hum of relief before drinking a bit more and reaching for a pastry. He takes a bites of the sweet and after he swallows it he looks at Dhraegon. "And I am too young apparently…a fine pair we make." He sips the rum laced lemonade slowly the pain in his head subsiding slightly. "It was a fun party though…we should do it again…well…once I have rested and had a bath…and after the angry rampaging dragon vacates the space inside of my head." He manages a weak little grin. "What time is it anyway?"
Dhraegon smiles goofily at him, "There's a party like this at Garden Islse next Week for Festival's End. A Feast for the Dead thing…. Dragon's can certainly be dangerous." He squints out at the garden. "Afternoon, maybe?" He sips his rum to console himself for being awake. "Lady Adelais Hightower is back in town. I suppose we are to marry soon. She…took it well. Really well."
Edwyn looks a touch concerned when he discovers he slept the morning away. "Oh…I must have drunk more than I thought." He takes another sip of his drink and blinks in surprise. "You are getting married? Congratulations then. I…I hope she is nice and that you like her. When I marry it will probably be arranged so I'm not sure who I will wind up with…if they will like me or not. I wish you and your intended the very best Prince Dhraegon." He offers the prince a warm and encouraging smile.
Dhraegon nods very slowly and carefully, hands flat on the table, "She is a Hightower and was married to a Tyrell. She is very kind and gentle and half my age. I was shared she would be mean, but she's really, really nice. We met last night. The New King arranged it with old Lord Hightower." He is too drunk and hangover to show much emotion, but a sharp man would catch the hint of panic nibbling at the edges of his rum numbed words. "It's why I was sent…. She is half my age and pretty." He smiles a tight smile and downs the rest of his lemonade and rum in one go. "Did you get my note about the ship? It should be ready soon. What masthead do you think would suit her? I picked the name, I thought you might pick the mast, she being half yours."
Despite his hungover state Edwyn has a rare moment of clarity and notices Dhraegon's growing panic. A gentle hand is placed on the Princes shoulder and Edwyn looks at him with concern. "What are you worried about my friend? You just said she was nice so I take it you aren't afraid of dealing with her in the future….so what is it? Does the marriage itself scare you?" He squeezes that shoulder lightly before removing his hand. "Take it one step at a time okay? Try and relax and enjoy spending time with her and things will likely fall into place. And if you need to talk then you can talk to me alright?" Edwyn looks genuinely concerned now but smiles faintly when the ship is mentioned. "I don't think I got a note recently no…but father was very pleased with the agreement we have. As for the mast I will have to think on it…what did you name the ship?"
Dhraegon looks at Edwyn with wide lavender eyes. There is something child like about the way he nods. he whispers, "I haven't a sister so I never thought to marry. Especially at my age. I've never… Why can't children grow on bushes?" He perks up at the news that Edwyn's father was pleased, "I'm glad your father liked it. I want everyone to be happy. It's really important to me that everybody is happy. I am christening her 'Sapphire Eyes' in honor of the island of Tarth, just like the Redwyne ale will be 'Sapphire heart.' The mast… oh! Figurehead. I meant figure head. My tongues a little tangled today." He very carefully pours them each another goblet, presumably to help them think.
Edwyn blinks looking confused now. "A sister? Why would that…matter? Oh." He finally seems to get it and takes a gulp of his drink. He smiles warmly at Dhraegon. "Keep an open mind. Just because babies don't grow on tree doesn't mean having them will be so bad…" He grins and nods finishing off his drink just in time for more to be poured. However a servant enters the garden an older man in the livery of House Lannister of Lannisport. Edwyn goes very pale and still as the man approaches the pair scowling heavily as he dodges fallen party decor and goblets. The servant comes to stand before Edwyn and scowls heavily. "Lord Edwyn…your father requests you return to the manse. Now. I would expect you are in some trouble as you where suppose to be abed last night not sneaking off to Targaryen parties and getting drunk." The disdain the man shows has Edwyn blushing and he rises stumbling slightly. He manages a polite yet clumsy bow for the prince. "I should go now but I would very much like to speak with you again Prince Dhraegon."
The Prince stands, rising to his full rather considerable height. The bird costume may not be dignified, but very suddenly, the half drunk clown Prince is a Dragon, a proper Targaryen. The resemblance between him and his kinsmen the old king is in his face and his bearing. He pulls out the full arrogant authority and bearing of his line and booms out, "How dare you interrupt a business meeting between me and this young Lord with your insults and rudeness. My guests ought to be treated with respect beneath my roof. Remember your place!" He points to the exit, glaring. When they are gone, he giggles, "Was that good, Edwyn?"