(121-12-05) Braddock's Birthday Bash
Braddock's Birthday Bash
Summary: Much drama at a Wild Party at the Fist and Falcon .
Date: Date of play (05/12/121)
Related: None.

Within the Fist and Falcon this fine day, a large man is seated on a stool. Not unusual, one might say. That stool, however, is stacked upon a table. In the man's large hand is a large mug, and he is surrounded at his table by many a member of the local smallfolk community, "A bear, a bear!" He cries, with those gathered around him joining in cheerful cries of, "All black and brown and covered in hair!" This… could be described as singing, as it continues, "She kicked and wailed, the maid so fair! But he licked the honey from her hair!"

The man atop the stool could be mistaken for any old commoner. However he is, in fact, an Anointed Knight, Ser Braddock of House Hightower, leading the commonfolk around him in a ronud of bawdy song and drinking along with them.

Valora is here working on her third drink and when the song starts up she joins in quite happily. The Hightower woman is clad in a rather scandalous gown of pink silk and sits on a stool at the bar sipping on a tankard of something that might be ale. Her voice carries across the room merry and quite pretty as well. She turns to watch the group and after a moment of studying them she lofts a brow at the man sitting on the stool that has been placed on the table. She studies him curiously a playful smile on her lips. She seems to be considering something as she sings along with his tune.

Killian is dressed in an Iron Islander fashion at least two centuries out of date, the fabric sturdy and well decorated, but too heavy for this climate. His eyes seem to not quite focus on the hear and now, but he is armed, tall, and well muscled. He pauses to take in the scene, but attempts to join in at the chorus. Attempts is the best word as he has the sort of voice would make a musician faint. He doesn't seem to notice how off key he is as he wanders towards the bar for his pint.

In his simple tunic and leggings, Braddock looks nothing at all like the 'noble' lord he is meant to be. He stands from his seat, planting his high-booted feet firmly on the table and turns to face the bar, peering at the woman who joined in the sing-song, "It appears," he calls out for all the tavern to hear, "that we have another singer! Let the lady through boys." He gestures to the barkeeper, "Barkeep. Another jug of your best…" He pauses and glances at his drinking companions, "Okay, second best ale!"

Valora definitely looks the part of a lady, but she doesn't seem to act like one. She rises from her stool as the man calls out to her. Finishing off her drink the tankard is set aside and she starts dancing in that direction. Her dancing skills are definitely out of character for a noble, her hips sway in a teasing manner and her body moves in a way that would be considered quite scandalous in noble circles. She approaches the table dancing around it eyeing the men with a warm yet playful little smile.

Killian quaffs his ale and watches good naturedly enough. he continues to try to bellow along with the chorus. Like his clothes, he has an air of being vaguely displaced from the here an know.

The song continues all around though Braddock's attentions are now firmly on the movements and ministrations of the young woman approaching. "Lads," He calls again, "Another stool, if you please." One is quickly proffered up to the standing Braddock and he places it near to the centre of the table, next to his own, "The King of the table," he says, with a grin towards Valora, "Needs a queen. Wouldn't you agree?"

Killian starts thumping the bar in time to the music and dancing. At least he has rhythm, if not the gift of music.

Returning his attention to the revelers, Braddock grins rather impishly, "Lads, and lassies both of course," he beams another grin towards the serving girls and the women of the smallfolk, "another round!" The ale is brought and poured, Bradd himself taking charge of the pouring of the ale, even encouraging one of the serving girls to down a flagon, "To the King!" He cries, though whether he means the actual King of Westeros, or himself as King of the Table, nobody is quite sure.

Killian lets his tankard be filled with a nod and smile to the wench, and drinks the toast willingly enough. His accent is a strange thing, an archaic sounding mishmash at least as much of the North as the Islands, "What do we celebrate tonight?" His tone is frankly curious, his expression one of good humor.

Pausing at the question, Braddock furrows his brow and taps his lip with his finger, "An excellent question." He downs a mouthful of ale to aid in his thinking process before sitting back upon his table-stool, "I know! We celebrate alcohol! And women!" Cheers rise up from the crowd, though he turns to them with an aside, "Or goats, for ol' Jorah over there." He raises his mug in salute to an older man sitting by the hearth who slaps his hand down, but raises his own mug in reply, "To life, my dear friends! May it be short, and full of pleasure!"

Killian snorts at the goats, but cheers along with the rest and drains his tankard, "Then let the next round be on me." He slides the coin across the bar and when all tankards are full again, he lifts his mug, "To my future bride, the bonniest lass in all Westeros and good tides to thee, Generous Stranger!"

"Tell me, fellow stranger," Braddock says with a grin, "That has the face of an Ironman, the clothes of a Northman, and an accent of some bastard of the two," his grin remains, somewhat helping the jocular play, "Which of our lovely Westerosi ladies found herself so desperate for a spouse that she looked at you and said 'Aye. Tha'll do'?"

Killian's sea coloured eyes have a dangerous glint in them, though his tone stays mild, "I am a Captain and my Father's Heir, and though our Island be small and remote, it has many an advantage for a woman tired of the heat and crowding of the south, and I am a man to treat a Rock Wife well and have inducements I don't generally displace in public, but if thou art so keen to see my fine rod…." he flips up his tunic to display a member that might indeed interest a future wife, both in size and comeliness. "Will you drink to my Blaithe or not, Stranger?"

Stroking his chin gently as he regards the man's offering, Braddock nods gently, "Lads, careful now. Don't make any fast movements, else it may just str-" He raises an eyebrow, "hold on a moment. No, that isn't a horned viper at all!" He grins and eases back onto his stool, upon the table, "Raise us a mug, or cup," he glances about the place and shrugs, "Or bowl… To the Heir of House… Farwynd of the Isle of the Lonely Light. And to his betrothed, Blaithe. May her body bear a hundred children to fight over all your shit once you die of sexual exhaustion."

The man doing the offering being Killian, seated at the bar with his tunic up exposing himself. Like a boss. Seated on a stool, which is perched in the middle of a large oaken table, is Braddock, around him are a dozen or so revelers, though the entire tavern appears to be involved in the goings on.

The door to the Fist and Falcon swings open quietly as the golden haired figure of Lord Edwyn Lannister slips inside. The Lannisport heir is dressed in a rather simple loose shirt of ivory silk and a rather tight fitting pair of black trousers with matching boots. He appears unarmed as well as if he came straight to the tavern rather than heading to the training grounds first as he normally does. The young man looks troubled and as soon as he enters he starts for the bar. A few heads turn and some whispers start up as he passes people by. The bar comes into view and he spots Killian sitting on it with his tunic lifted. He blinks in surprise and quickly averts his eyes stepping up to the bar and ordering an ale for himself trying hard not to stare at the man.

Killian drops his tunic thus covering the rather impressive cock he had been displaying and gives a friendly bellow of a laugh, and drinks his ale down. His clothes are a couple of centuries behind the fashion, well made, but too heavy for the long Spring in the Reach. His accent is a strange thing, an archaic sounding mishmash at least as much of the North as the Islands, "A goodly toast indeed, but I do not know thy name, Clever Stranger, who has guessed my name so well…." He spots the blush of the arriving blond man and flashes him a grin and thumps his shoulder, "Thou art a bit behind in the rounds, Friends." He is starting to flush under his seafarer's tan and his words have a touch of carefulness about his pronunciation.

There is a spirit of general revelry in the Tavern today. Killian is at the bar, only recently pausing in his display of manliness to drink a toast to his betrothed. Edwyn has recently arrived he has an expression of troubledness upon his features marred only by a slight blush at his recent exposure to Killian's particular brand of manliness.

And thus we turn finally to the third of our trio. Braddock is seated upon a stool, which has been placed at the centre of one of the oaken tables. Surrounding him are a dozen or so smallfolk, men and women both, all of whom are drinking deeply from flagons of ale.

Braddock appears to be some nature of jester as he sits, his legs spread rather bawdily apart, when he finally notices Edwyn's entrance, "And, if I'm not very much mistaken, our newest friend is a Lannister. Golden hair, high cheekbones," He pauses to glance around the room, adopting an impish grin, "the jingling of a coinpurse…" This last remark is met with a roar of laughter from the gathered smallfolk.

Braddock stands upon his table, lurching up from the stool, and bows gently to Killian, his uneasy footing threatening to send him tumbling into the cleavage of an ill-placed smallfolk woman, "I," he says as he rights himself, "Am Braddock, of the House of Hightower. Anointed," he tips a small amount of ale over his head with a grin, "Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, and general drinker of ale."

The thump to his shoulder Killian gives him draws a little a smile from the blushing Edwyn. The ale arrives and Edwyn takes a sip from it his blue gaze looking to Braddock as he speaks. He can't help but grin a little. "Is it really that obvious? Oh well I suppose I owe you something for a correct guess then?" He glances to the bartender and places a number of coins down, enough to pay for a round for the whole tavern. "Get everyone another of whatever they are drinking yes?" The man nods and Edwyn goes back to his drinking watching the other men as he does so.

Killian gives his own careful bow. He is not nearly as deep in his cups as Ser Braddock, so his own bow is steadier, "Ah, so thou art our host in at least two senses. I hight Killian, myself, Captain of the seal Prince, if titles are needed, as that is a title earned by my hand." He gives another open throated bellow of laughter at the anointing with ale. At Edwyn's paying for the next round, he gives the lad another friendly thump, "Well done, Lad, and what ought we call thee besides Lannister?" He holds out his cup for his refill. He is standing by the embarrassed Lannister, still looking in amusement up at the King of the table, their budding quarrel already forgotten.

A Ironman, Hightower, Lannister, and Targaryen Princess all meet in a tavern. It sounds like the beginnings of a particularly bawdy joke that one might tell in a whisper. Or, as tonight proves, reality.

Princess Visenya's entrance causes a distraction on it's own. Her guardsmen filter in before and after her, bored expressions on their face as they babysit the simultaneously infamous and loved Targaryen. Smallfolk begin to whisper at her appearance, and a hum seems to fill the common room.

To say that Visenya is overdressed would be an understatement; the Princess wears a style of gown popular in the South that is strategically cut to expose the creamy expanse of her back. A high neckline with intricate silver whorls adorns her neck. The silk is painted to resemble steel blue dragon scales.

She effects an air of nonchalance as she glides through the crowd, a beatific expression on her face that is interrupted by the occasional lazy wave of her hand.

Braddock is standing unsteadily on a table with a chair right behind him. his hair is newly damp with ale. Killian stands at the bar next to Edwyn. Killian's clothes and accent are archaic, the accent as much Northern as Iron Islander. Edwyn has just bought another round of drinks and the smallfolk are in good humor.

Pushing his hand through his damp hair, Braddock begins to introduce his companions, "This," he gestures to one, "Is Georj. He's a farmer… in fact most men in here are farmers." He gestures to another, "This is Alban, and next to him his wife Tilly. Then there's Thom, and his brother Thom." He shrugs, "Creative parents." He gestures again to the old man by the hearth, "And that's Jorah. Oldest man in here. He's forty." He grins pleasantly as he continues to introduce his companions, though stops at the entrance of Visenya and her entourage.

He swallows, sharply, though does his best to maintain his cheery demeanor, "C'mon lads and lassies. Raise your… drinking tools. To the Princess!" Sure, he's only been in town six hours, the entirity in here, but everyone knows a Targaryen when he sees one.

Seems only a Tully is missing to complete the picture. And indeed, the door opens again, a moment after it has closed behind the Targaryen, to admit the impressive frame of Ser Thadeus Tully. The recent months have brought about a change in the Bullfish's appearance. There is a certain pensiveness about his features, that impress with a clean shave. A wink to a tavern wench that catches his attention makes that uncharacteristic expression leave his mien at once, a lazy smile curls his lips, only to fade when his grey-blue eyes come to linger on the sight of Visenya's admittedly intriguiging dress and hair. The Targ, although probably not the Targ whom he has been betrothed to in the past. His eyes do narrow slightly when he realizes it is the sister, still he will slip almost unnoticed over to the bar, although the Tully colours of the attire he wears, a fine doublet and breeches, may give him away.

The damp hair of the Ironborn catches the Bullfish's curiosity briefly, and brings that smile back, a raising of the tankard of ale he grabs from the barkeep a silent greeting to the foreigner. "To the Princess," he joins in, as his gaze flits to Visenya and he inclines his head.

Edwyn sips his ale glancing to Killian with a smile but slightly unsure smile. "Do you just want my name or my full title?" He attempts to tease the man lightly before adding quietly. "Edwyn Lannister, heir to Lannisport." He takes another gulp of wine his eyes widening just a bit as the Princess steps inside. He dips his head low to the Targaryen woman and then goes about glancing around the rest of the room with idle curiosity. He seems to relax a bit now as he drinks.

Killian nods to each of the men Braddock introduces, politely. He peers at the arriving Princess with open startlment, but echoes, "To the Princess!" and drinks. Braddock is standing unsteadily on a table with a chair right behind him. his hair is newly damp with ale. Killian stands at the bar next to Edwyn. Killian's clothes and accent are archaic, the accent as much Northern as Iron Islander. Edwyn has just bought another round of drinks and the smallfolk are in good humor. Visenya and guards are at the door. Thaddeus has just arrived and all are toasting Visenya. Killian flashes a friendly grin at the Lannister, "A name is enough for friends sharing drink, yes? I will be Killian and thou Edwyn."

A goblet of wine is placed in Visenya's hand, and she raises it in a return toast. "To the people!" Since this particular Princess appears to be somewhat of a local celebrity some of the smallfolk cheer in a hearty fashion. She has a good swallow of her wine at the toast, and when her lips leave the rim she saunters over to Killian, Edwyn, and Braddock. "Lord Edwyn." She smiles primly before extending her hand out to the men to kiss. "I do not believe we are acquainted, my lords. I am the Princess Visenya-Ah." Her head turns towards the man in red and blue, "My Lord of Tully. Not so long ago you were meant to be my good-brother." Her brow furrows in mock distress, "Now you act as if you barely know me. Will you not also kiss my hand and call me a friend?"

It is with little fanfare that Faelyn sneaks in. The silver haired woman is obviously Targaryen and yet she attempts to slip in unnoticed and glide through the room trying to stay out of the way. She watches the crowd as she walks by heading to one corner of the bar firsdt her eyes widening a bit as she spots her cousin. She doesn't speak to anyone just yet just trying to pass unnoticed and get a goblet of wine before trying to vanish into a corner.

Appearing much like a deer caught in headlights, a simile that wouldn't make sense to the populace at large, Braddock deftly manages to pounce from the table and land on the floor without so much as spilling from his flagon. He raises a hand to his mouth quickly and blows on it. Smelling the detritus of his mouth come back at him, he flinches and downs the rest of his ale and depositing it on the tray of the nearest serving girl.

When it is his turn to present himself before the princess, he bows with a flourish that nearly knocks the self-same serving girl over on her return pass. He grasps the hand proffered like it were the petal of a lily and kisses the air a fraction of an inch above the skin, "Your highness," he smarms, "Ser Braddock, of the House of Hightower." Drip. Some of the ale from his hair trickles down his brow to the tip of his nose, dolloping upon the royal skin. Oops.

When he is addressed by Visenya, the Tully will put the tankard onto the counter, a smile curling his lips as he turns towards her fully now. "Princess Visenya, I joined in the toast, did I not? Mayhaps I was a little unsure just how pleased you would be spotting me here, after all those recent… troubles that caused the betrothal to your sister to be broken.", he offers with a charming smile, the pointed innocence in his gaze suggesting he was not at all to be blamed in the matter. "But how could I deny your wish, fair princess," the Bullfish continues, waiting for his turn until he reaches for Visenya's hand in the same time he offers a courteous bow, his Tully lips brushing the Targaryen fingers as she requested. Straightening the new Targaryen arrival will catch his attention, and Thadeus gaze flits back to Visenya. "Another relative of yours…?"

A nod is offered to Braddock, although the mention of the name does surprise the Tully. "You have an odd accent for a Hightower, Ser. I am Thadeus of House Tully.", he says.

"Princess Visenya, its a pleasure to see you again." Edwyn offers the Princess a warm smile as he takes her hand in his own, his touch is gentle as he places a soft kiss on that hand before releasing it once again. His gaze wanders and he will offer Killian a nod taking a slow sip of his ale and watching Braddock's display with a hint of amusement in his gaze. He isn't the most observant person and so Faelyn goes unnoticed by the Lannister for now.

Killian drinks readily enough "to the People," though he looks uncertain if he is meant to be included in the hand kissing. he hangs behind Edwyn uncertainly. His slightly unfocused eyes seem to track the shier Princess though and he cocks his head as if fascinated. He takes or more likely mistakes Edwyn's nod for encouragement, and steps up to take Visenya's hand, bowing over it to lightly brush lip to knuckle.

Visenya quickly wipes away the droplet of ale on her hand before the next poor man places his lips on it. Her face remains fixed in a smile despite the offending droplet. "A pleasure, Ser." A gentle smile is given to Killian when he touches his lips to her hand. However, it is the Tully who holds her attention. She turns, and holds out her hand for him to kiss when he approaches, and when he stands upright her amethyst colored eyes linger on his face in a provocative fashion before snapping away coyly. "Perhaps…it was for the best?" Her pretty, high voice has smoke and husk to it. She drags the kissed hand across her coral colored lips in subconscious provocation before saying absently, "Oh, her? The Princess Faelyn."

Faelyn gets her wine and takes a long drink from it pausing briefly. Her gaze goes to Visenya and her attempts to charm the Tully. She doesn't interrupt though even as she is introduced. She tries her very best to sneak around the bar and tables towards a quiet corner that happens to be empty. Her expression is perfect a mask of calm and while her gaze wanders over those gathered with interest it doesn't linger long on anyone in particular at the moment.

Remaining able to muster enough composure to tug rakishly at the hem of his tunic, Braddock chooses that moment to extricate himself from the Royal Presence. Soon enough he is back up upon his table, seated on his stool with another filled mug of ale in his hand, "An odd accent you say?" Says he, once he regains the advantage of height, "Though I am called Hightower, this is my first time in Oldtown since I was very small." He adopts a grin and glances around at the smallfolk that once held him in their highest esteem. The entire mass of people, however, have betrayed their King for the Princess. He shrugs, lazily, and downs a mouthful of ale, "And you will find my accent the least of my oddities, were I compared to other Hightowers. I'm much more fun."

He still hasn't noticed Faelyn, however. She could be right in front of him, topless, dancing to the Venga Boys Greatest Hits and he probably wouldn't notice her.

Captain Killian doesn't seem to mind Princess Visenya's interest in him. As soon as the turning of her gaze dismisses him, he is threading his way towards her cousin, loosed limbed from previous toasts drunk and a bit flushed under his sailor's tan. He gives her a polite bow and says quietly, "Princess Faelyn? I understand thou art a friend to the Starks and a woman of unusual skill. May I sit with thee a moment? I will offer thee no insult and I too have an interest in that House."

The Tully heir's grey-blue eyes linger in Visenya, almost staring at her when she breaks his gaze. "It probably was," he agrees after a moment, his gaze showing a bit of bewilderment at the way this Targaryen Princess behaves towards him - still he cannot by any means avert his gaze when her fingers are drawn over her lips, he is a man, and furthermore, the Bull Fish. He clears his throat, as he almost forces his gaze to leave Visenya, to glance downwards momentarily. Until he remembers his manners, and the other Targaryen is greeting with a bow, and a kiss to her hand as well, if allowed. "Ser Thadeus Tully, of Riverrun," he offers along with a charming smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, fair princess." he can be quite a charmer as well!

"The accent sounds Ironborn," Thadeus comments towards Killian, a faint frown appearing on his Tully heir features. Showing a bit of his distaste perhaps at that particular brand of people, although his tone remains cordial enough as he does not know the man.

Left standing alone at the bar Edwyn finishes off his drink and orders another. He remains standing quietly watching the Princess capture the Tully Lord's attention with a hint of amusement and a lofted brow. He watches Killian approch the other Princess and takes another drink her brow furrowing in thought before he lets out a soft sigh and continues trying to drink his problems away.

Faelyn settles into a chair just as Killian makes his way over and greets her. She looks up from her wine blinking in surprise and offering the Ironborn a soft and warm smile dipping her head to the man even as her cheeks turn a light pink with a blush. "Of course…please feel free to join me if you wish. What exactly is your interest in the Starks if I may ask?" She glances to the Tully and will offer her hand as he reaches for it. She smiles shyly and dips her head. "A pleasure to meet you Ser Thadeus." She looks to Visenya briefly and then back to the Tully smiling softly before her attention turns back to Killian once more.

"So," Braddock says as he downs another mouthful of ale, "Two princesses, three lords, and some guy in high boots walk into a tavern." His attention directed once again at his 'subjects' who turn eagerly to face him to hear his joke, "One princess flirts with one lord, the other princess is flirted with by the other lord." He furrows his brow with a shrug, "The lord with the deepest pockets is drinking by himself. So, you know who the real winner of the evening is?" He glances about, as do each of his 'subjects' with confused looks upon their faces, "The man with fine ale, fine people," he jerks his head towards Visenya and Thad, "And a good view at the gossip."

"But we are all subjects of our good King Viserys." Visenya reminds the men with a smile as she detects the distaste in Thadeus' tone. She then raises her cup in another toast. "To our King!" She drinks deeply from her cup at the conclusion of this toast, and sets it down on a random table before exclaiming, "The night is too fine for there to be no dancing! Who has an instrument to play with, and who amongst you radiant maidens will dance with me?" She holds her arms open and beckons the random smallfolk girl towards her. "And where are the men who will be our partners?!"

Killian dips to brush lips to Princess Faelyn's knuckles exactly as he did with her kinswoman. "It is complicated, I think." He raises his eyebrows at the Tully's rudeness. His tone is cold as the wind North of the Wall and his tone pitched to carry, "I am Lord Killian, heir to Lord Farwynd, Captain of the Seal Prince, out of the Lonely Light, which is as far North and West as one might go into the Western Sea. Our blood is old and we keep the Old Ways, but I have come to the Green Land in Peace to court my future Bride and I would wish no unnecessary quarrel, nor have I sought one with you." He waits to see if the Tully intends trouble, and keeps his eye on Thaddeus as he drinks Visenya's toast.

"Gossip?" Thadeus raises a brow, as his gaze flits from Braddock to Visenya. "We are just acquaintances." He shrugs, still there is a bit of a sparkle in his eyes when they come to linger upon Visenya, pursing his lips when she invites a smallfolk girl over. "A dance would require music," he remarks, to noone in particular, before the Ironman's reply draws his attention, and the nonchalant smile vanishes at once. "Lord Killian, I hope you will forgive me if I say I never heard of you. In fact, I have encountered some of your Old Blood that were less inclined to abstain from 'unnecessary quarrels', as you like to call them. I certainly do not seek a quarrel with you, my lord. I was merely making an observational remark about your accent."

Killian keeps his eyes on Thaddeus, "We do not have much commerce with those on the big islands as we prefer our own company just generally. I know nothing of quarrels thou might have with other houses. If your quarrel was not with my Seal point kin I do not see why we can not drink peaceably here. The choice is thine." He waits with an expression suggesting that the outcome is of no great moment, his stance relaxed. He is armed, but makes no move towards his weapons.

Killian is standing by a table wear Faelyn is sipping her wine, He is facing Thaddeus. His posture is relaxed, but there is a tense air in the room. Visenya is talking to a commoner girl, her guards in attendance. Edwyn is drinking quietly at the bar.

The Fist and Falcon has quite the collection of nobility tonight. At the suggestion of Princess Visenya some smallfolk men have taken up simple instruments while a few smallfolk girls have joined her to dance a reel. An Ironborn Lord known as Killian is sitting at a table with another Targaryen Princess, Faelyn. Lord Edwyn Lannister is sitting at the bar. There appears to be some tension between Thadeus Tully and the Ironborn Lord.

"Will no one dance with me?" Visenya demands in a playfully put-off tone. Her gaze goes towards Thadeus and Killian warily.

"As I said," Thadeus replies with a tone that outwardly appears indifferent, his grey-blue eyes focusing on Killian. "I was commenting on your accent. That would not mean I infer the quarrels I may have had with another Ironborn…" Ser Krakenshit, "to affect our acquaintance, Captain." He is armed as well, his sword hangs at his side, a slightly martial addition to his courtly attire of doublet and breeches in Tully colours. Visenya's question fulfills its purpose, it manages to draw his attention to the Targaryen princess that almost would have become his good-sister. "Certainly, Princess, if you would enjoy a dance with a man of the Riverlands…" There may be a light wink there, his lips curling as he becomes aware of some well-hidden ambiguity of his remark - or maybe just a diverting association that crosses his mind.

Edwyn sets his drink aside and steps forward as Visenya asks for a dancing partner. He stands a respectful distance and offers a low and quite graceful bow to the Princess along with a charming smile. "If it would please you Princess I would be honored to dance with you…though if you would prefer the company of Ser Thadeus I will surely understand." His tone is polite and gentle and he offers the man in question a faint smile as he straightens back up waiting to see what Viseyna will decide.

Killian says lightly, "Fair enough." He takes another sip of his drink. He seems disinclined to pursue trouble on behalf of the Krakens, and watches with mild amusement as the fancier lords go competing for the Princess' attention.

Visenya is torn between the Trout and the Lion. Between silver and gold. Both men are remarkable specimens. It is a hard choice to make. Still, it is the trout whom she is trying to keep from the Ironborn. Also, as indicated by her early interest, she may have plans for the Bullfish. In the end she offers the Lannister a meltingly beautiful smile along with an apologetic look. "I promise you shall have my next dance, Ser Edwyn." That said, she extends a delicate hand to the Tully.

"As you wish Princess. I do not mind waiting for a dance with you. I am certain it will be well worth the wait." Edwyn offers his most charming smile and then dips his head respectfully to the Princess and steps back allowing the Tully to claim his dance. He picks up his drink and watches the crowd with a soft smile upon his lips as the dancing begins.

Well here comes a fine dancing partner, surely. A waif in gray, mostly legs and eyes (her noggin's pretty big, in general), and under her arm is a bundle of big steamed leaves with something savory and appealing wafting outward. "I brought treats!" the child announces, apparently presuming she can buy her way into this event. After all, she knows the dj.

Killian turns back to the table, but discovers the Princess he was wanting to talk to when interrupted had fled. Alas, what is a man to do? Refill his drink, apparently. He wanders up to Lord Edwyn, "Shall we drown our sorrows in another round? Thou seemst a man with much on his mind." His gaze is clear and friendly enough." He gives the waif a smile and a nod.

"May I have the honour then?", Thadeus says with a smile, offering his arm to lead Visenya over to a small space that has been hastily been cleared by the innkeep, while a swiftly gathered trio of flute, lute and fiddle launch into a merry local favorite of the Reach. A triumphant glance is shot the Lannister's way - after all, there has been that hint of competition between them, while the Ironborn will be mostly ignored for now - which is what Visenya had intended in the first place. "You flatter me, Princess, by giving me preference over that Lion," he remarks to the Targaryen, before he adds after a moment, "your sister is well, I suppose?" The question maybe a tad belated, but then again, he was distracted.

Edwyn raises a brow at the Tully's rather smug look. He isn't bothered by it at all simply accepting the Princesses choice and respecting it. He glances to Killian and offers a warm smile to the man. "Aye another round sounds good. I will pay for us both if you like? I could certainly use the company and the drink." He pays for another round for both himself and the Ironborn lord offering the man another smile as the drinks arrive. He lifts his tankard. "To good drink and even better company." He gives the man a rather bright smile from behind his tankard before he takes a long drink from it.

"I was afraid you and the Lord from the Iron Isles would continue to quarrel." Visenya says easily enough as they take position for a reel popular in the Reach. "And that would have ruined my splendid night." Ethereal in appearance at this distance the Princess has a natural smell at odds with her almost over-the top persona; she smells like good earth and raspberries warmed in the sun. "Poor Cerys." She laments, "I told her, and I told you. She was never your pace." Her amethyst eyes, so unlike the blue of her sister's, meets Thadeus', "I'm afraid you picked the wrong Princess."

What a great moment to come in! Keli instantly shrinks down, but at least follows the business of offering treats to anyone who isn't dancing, which is also a fine chance to subtly check around for abandoned drinks. Eventually she takes a spot that lets her see Edwyn's face and Killian's, their reactions apparently of interest.

Killian hasn't the natural charm of the others, but he gives Edwyn an easy going grin and squeezes his shoulder in a comradely way, dropping his more formal mode of speech for a more familiar one, "Ye're a good man. I''l be glad to keep ye company." He lifts his tankard, "I'll second that!" He takes a long pull of his fresh drink, "Let's drink until we feel like singing!" He gives Keli a wink, "how are ye, Lass. Do ye still have that carving? I'm glad to see ye've weathered the fevers in safety."

"What quarrel?", the Tully jests. "We were merely conversing. Still, he deserves my gratitude, I suppose, for making you choose me as your first partner for the dance." That smile fades when Visenya speaks of her sister. "So she is unwell? I am… sorry to hear that." A hint of bad conscience might be glimpsed briefly in those grey-blue eyes. "As for the pick of princess… I met her first, then I had to promise her I would not drop her for your sake…" In this at least he had been successful. "Would it really have changed anything, though, Visenya?", he murmurs into her ear as they shift positions, following the steps of the dance. "Would you not have been appalled as well by the stories told about me - may they be true or not?"

Edwyn's cheeks color a little at that compliment from Killian. Thankfully Kelinyx's appearance saves the Lannisport heir from the possibility of embarrassing himself. He offers the girl a warm smile lifting his free hand a in a little wave as he takes another drink. "Hello Kelinyx. I hope you are well?" He studies her curiously and then glances to Killian grinning a bit mischievously. "Have you ever heard me sing? I'm likely to scare everyone away…dancing though…that's something I'm a bit better at." He eyes the dancing couple breifly and then looks back to his drink and company once more.

"Cerys' heart is gentle. Like spun glass. Easily broken." Visenya says in a low voice to Thadeus as they dance. "She was always afraid of me stealing from her. It's ironic, really. Everyone always loved her more than me, you know. Our mother barely ever spared a glance for me once her darling Cerys was born. And yet…" There is some unbent energy as she speaks. A rage that she channels into her dance that causes the dragon scale painted silk to flutter, "I was the thief." She laughs then, "I fancied Prince Alaryn Martell, you know. No one can be a bigger rake than Prince Alaryn."

Killian's grin widens further at Edwyn's blush, "Then we'd make a good pair. That's the point of the ale, Lad. Let's drink until we're in no condition to notice donkey's wincing at our song." He pats his shoulder, "I take it te've not been drinking with an Iron Man before." He gives them both a wink, "What say you, Keli, shall we make a right carouse of it?" Though the earlier rounds have left his cheeks flushed under his seafarer's tan and his tongue a bit careful to cover it's clumsiness, he is holding his drink very well. He lets the fancy folk dance behind him, his focus on his closer companions.

The girl glances to the gents who've spoken to her with appreciative smiles. To Edwyn she notes, "I like to sing and other people don't like it, just like you say, so I guess I understand," she offers, handing out little savory pastries with some peas and carrots inside, everything fresh and delicious and the slightly gingery spice of that leaf it was all wrapped in adding zing. Keli must have chosen rather carefully the snacks she brought. To Killian she nods in agreement. "It's good to be around, still, and I didn't lose nobody I couldn't replace," she says with a playful frankness, narrowing down her choices for possible drinks to steal.

"I have a feeling Princess Cerys sees enemies lurking in the darkness where there aren't any, I have to admit, she spoke with me about you and your brothers and not very favorably at all.", Thadeus continues at the same lower volume while he follows the pattern of the dance with casual grace. "And naught became of it?", the Bullfish inquires to her last remark about the prince. "Seems the prince missed out on a most prestigious match, just like me."

Edwyn smiles warmly back at Killian. "Would we now? We shall have to see won't we?" There is a teasing look to his eyes and his smile as he studies the man chuckling softly. "No you are the first Ironborn I've been drinking with." He glances to Kelinyx noticing her eyeing the drinks. He passes his over to her with a grin. "Here and whatever you do don't get drunk and fall off a table trying to dance. It hurts pretty bad come morning." He grins and turns to pay for another tankard for himself now.

Killian takes the pastry with a little bob of his head and a polite thank ye, popping it in his mouth trustingly. "I was lucky, I admit. My men were off on a fishing trip and I was on a long boar hunt when the gates closed. Tellur Snow was kind enough to give me a riding lesson, and we came through with our hides mostly intact. Stubborn beasts, are boars." He sets down his tankard for a moment, in a spot were a girl might steal a sip, if Edwyn's tankard proves to be not enough for her thirst. Leans closer to Edwyn, lowering his voice accordingly, "Do ye enjoy a good hunt, Edwyn? I may be new to riding, but I do enjoy the chase on foot or a horse back." He studies the man with a teasing amusement, "I take it ye know this about table dancing from personal experience?" He touches his hand to heart, "I vow if ye drink yerself legless, I'll do my best to keep ye off tables. Instead, I'll carry ye off to safe harbor. Sound like a good deal?"

"It's a shame. I gave her a gift for your wedding, you know. A beautiful necklace of rubies and sapphires set in silver. Fitting for the future Lady Tully. She looked radiant in them, and they brought out the blue in her eyes." Visenya studies Thadeus' face a moment before shaking her head, "It was a passing flirtation. I spent most of my life betrothed to our brother. Now my whole life is stretched out before me. Prince Alaryn was the first man to catch my eye is all." A pause, and she tilts her head up to look at Thadeus', "Did you love her?"

Once Edwyn has a fresh tankard he takes a long drink from it and then Killian is leaning closer and the Lannisport heir is blushing lightly once again. He swallows heavily and looks at the Ironborn Lord with a curious but somewhat uncertain gaze. For a brief moment it seems as if he has been struck dumb but then he smiles softly and nods slowly. "I enjoy riding and my old knight tried to teach me how to track both beasts and men…I must admit I'm not very talented at it. Perhaps I simply need more practice." The teasing look in the mans eyes has Edwyn blinking in confusion and feeling as if he is missing something here…though he has no earthly idea what that would be. The vow has Edwyn smiling softly once again though even as his cheeks darken further. "It happened to me once yes….and that would be most appreciated. I would offer to do the same for you but I have a feeling I will be the first one drunk out of my senses."

"People sing their truest when drunk and dyin'," Keli muses to herself, but once a drink is pressed into her hands she is just quiet and thankful, dipping her head. She finds a spot to sit near the two speaking of table dancing, smirking and nibbling on a treat, merely absorbing the situation for now.

"A shame for the rubies and sapphires," Thadeus says with a low chuckle. "I wonder if she would want to wear them still." The information about Visenya's relation to the prince is met with a nod. "A passing flirtation." This he says, maybe in digesting the information given, or maybe in reply to her question. He pauses, pondering on what to say next, as the dance comes to a close and he bows to the Targaryen. "No. I did not love her. She caught my fancy, yes, and the prospect of gaining her favor mayhaps was enough to blind me about her defects. At least for a time. I was… intrigued by her personality for a while, but nothing more. Why? Would that matter to you, fair princess?"

Killian says, "Ye'll come to no harm with Edwyn Lannister. Perhaps another day we might try riding together, though we both be fairly new at it." He flashes a smile at Keli, "Aye, I'm of much the same opinion, tho I'm thinking I've not enough ale in my skin for singing so true. Do ye know any good drinking songs, Keli? Ones to help a man work up a thirst?""

"She's still my sister." Visenya and Thadeus have stopped dancing, but remain standing in front of each other. Her expression softens slightly as she admits, "When I saw you here tonight I planned on making you desire me, and then I planned on embarrassing you in some way. For her. Because, you see, no matter how much she has hated me and no matter how much I've hated her back we stem from the same tree. But now?" She shakes her head slowly, "Now I don't have the stomach for it. Yes, it matters to me. I lied earlier when I said it was for the best in the hopes of doing all of that, but now I see it truly was for the best. Poor Cerys." And then she murmurs softly, "She's more mad than I ever could be."

Edwyn smiles warmly at Killian and goes quiet for now sipping his drink and watching the crowd a moment. After a few minutes he is looking back to Kelinyx curiously and rather expectantly when drinking songs are mentioned. He grins a bit now. "Yes do share them if you know any good ones."

"I'm sposta not do them around fancy people," she says with a grin that hints a whole story has been conveniently left untold. "But I like hearin' other songs, too. Most of mine end up being about butts," she frankly admits, clearly a discerning sophisticate. She sits near Killian and Edwyn, Visenya and Thadeus in a clearing, wrapping up a dance.

Killian waggles his tankard for a top up, and getting one drinks deep. He grins, "Well, we're not in a fancy mood, are we, Eddie? And anyway, I am fond of butts, so I think you are safe to ply us with your tunes."

Tellur heads inside, dressed, well, relatively nicely. The pleasant clothes that various nobles have forced on him at various times so that he looks semi-decent. However the man has recently lost rather too much weight, and they hang on him - he walks with a cane and his already Northern skin is paler still. Still? Alcohol calls.

A smirk appears on the Tully's features. "Embarrass me?", he echoes. As if the Bull Fish were not a master in that art himself. He shakes his head with a low chuckle, before he adds: "I thank you for your honesty, princess. I tried to pretend to be someone I am not. I wanted to believe that lie, until I fell back into old habits." So there has been some truth to the stories after all? "While I am of course happy to be spared from a dragon's revenge, part of me is curious on how you planned to pursue that goal.", he adds with a wink.

"Mmm. Yes. Embarrass you." Visenya says this with the nonchalant air of a woman who is assured of herself. She doesn't blush as she explains, "I would have lured you into a kiss. And you would have tried kissing me. Most men who love women want to kiss me. Men like you especially want to kiss me. And when you leaned in to kiss me…" She lets out a bubbly little laugh, "I would have slapped you."

Kelinyx, that oddly ever-present waif, is sipping at something red and tasty, and as Tellur enters, she makes sure he notes there is a plate of savory pastries full of meat and veg on the table, as if it's open to anyone, but for now she seems preoccupied, perhaps thinking up a tune.

Edwyn blinks at the nickname but then chcukles softly and shakes his head. "If I wanted fancy I would have stayed home and sipped expensive wine from a jeweled goblet..no I'm not in a fancy mood." His expression is playful and its hard to tell if he is teasing or not. He looks to Keli expectantly. "Please do share a song Keli. I promise no one will be offended and if they are I will be sure to calm them back down." He gives her one of those dazzling smiles of his.

Killian catches sight of Tellur. His face is flushed and his pronunciation deliberately careful, but if you understand his accent, his bellow is clear enough, "And here is our recovering hero! Come let us buy ye a round, Tellur Snow! Have ye met Edwyn?"

Tellur observes to Kelinyx in his faintly growly voice "Thankyou, lass." He moves rather slowly, it has to be said, but then given the difficulties of the Stark household, such things cannot be so surprising. He secures himself a pastry and finds a seat, pale and with shaking hands, and then say to Killian "What hero. I'm a fool. But drink would be good - the lord Cat's pet Maester won't let me have more poppy."

"Is that so," Thadeus murmurs, mischief dancing in his grey-blue eyes. "Well, you are right, of course. Who could resist the offer of such a pair of lips, I certainly would not. A kiss would offer enough pleasure I suppose that the punishment afterwards would hardly matter…" The Bull Fish certainly is not a man of thought, rather of instinct, so when Visenya confronts him with her hideous plan, his arms dart forward, grabbing her slender Targaryen form to pull her closer for the kiss she would not give according to her own words, already expecting the hand to slap him, but at least aiming to get a taste of her lips - he is after all a man with a reputation, and with the betrothal broken there is really little to lose. Perhaps a challenge should not be issued this lightheartedly to a Tully, who is also used to get what he wants.

Being a proper lady is an art. A balancing act between pleasure and propriety. The Princess takes the pleasure first. She doesn't resist the Bullfish as he pulls her to him, and when his lips descend on hers she yields to him. Her eyes slide shut, and to those paying particularly close attention it appears that she is kissing him back! Only when she has her fill of him does she pull away, and lift her hand to strike at his cheek.

Killian simply hands Tellur his own ale, "Drink up friend. You never did say how you came by the wound…. What in the Reach?" He is staring opened mouthed at the Bull Fish molesting an obviously dangerous Princess in front of her guard. "That has the look of thing I'm glad to be sitting far away from." He signals for another round, to drink while watching the surprise entertainment.

Rescue? A dragon of a girl? Sure. Keli makes a glance to those around her, but seeing their surprise and amusement allows her own entertained smile to show, even if she quickly hides it behind her mug.

Edwyn's eyes roam the room and he spots Thadeus as he grabs at the Princess. Being who he is he can't just sit by and watch this. He sets his tankard down and makes his way over giving the Tully a stern look. When they kiss he raises a brow lingering nearby just in case. But then the Princess is striking out at the Tully Lord and Edwyn steps forward. "Ser Thadeus I suggest you release the Princess. It is hardly proper to do such things in public especially without her consent. I cannot allow it." Edwyn is tense now all business as he regards his fellow Lord. The Princess is given a look of concern, its clear that Edwyn is only trying to help her.

"I was shot by a fool aiming for another man," Tellur says to Killian "In the chest. It grazed a lung, and I'm lucky to be alive. I didn't…wake for a week or more." Which might explain his rather weakened state, teh trembling hand. Now he says "That lass can take care of herself. I wouldn't put my hand on her like that for all the gold in the Reach. Keli, can you give me another of those pastries?"

The Tully's lips curl into a confident smile while he is still engaged in that kiss with the Targaryen, sensing her lack of resistance and reading it as appreciation for his kissing skills. He for his part enjoys the magical moment, until she pulls away from him, and his lips part slightly as if he were still under the spell of her. His hand moves dreamily up, catching her wrist just in time before her hand could reach his cheek. "I beg your pardon, but to slap me you must grant me second kiss, then you have my leave to slap me as much as you like.", he says softly and with hardly concealed amused impertinence. His arm that had snaked around her back is pulling her gently back towards him, as his gaze locks with hers.

"It is not against her wish," Thadeus clarifies towards Edwyn, although his eyes remain on Visenya. "Even if her words attempt to convince you it is otherwise. No need to interfere, Lannister."

Keli does watch a bit more closely, at least until it becomes clear this is that thing where people wrestle with their egos as much as their tongues, and looks, if anything, less interested. On to the treats, one of which she offers to Tellur readily. "I bought them from my favorite vendor, near the tourney grounds, then ran them here. I gave three to the door man and he let me in." Maybe treat-bribed staff are part of why this drama on the dance floor isn't drawing more attention than it already is.

Killian tsks, "People ought to be more careful with their arrows. I'd ask to look the wound over, but as I've clear lost count of my rounds, so I'd like do more harm than good. Did yer Lord like the soup?" He takes up his fresh drink and sips, watching Edwyn come to the Princess's defense. "Nor would I. I'd guess that lass is the most dangerous one in the room and I'd not be wanting her attention. An idiot with a sword I can fight, but a she dragon? Best to be left alone."

"I think we've made enough of a scene tonight to feed the gossips for weeks to come, Ser Thadeus." Visenya says in a voice that suggests she doesn't feel as threatened as she looks. Her guards haven't rushed over yet, although they are certainly at attention. Perhaps they also know what Tellur knows, and Killian suspects? "Besides, you had an unfair disadvantage. I had revealed my plot to you, and you exploited it. How rakish of you." She moves to extract herself from the Tully's grasp, although she doesn't struggle yet. Despite the dramatic kiss and attempted slap she does seem to want to end this without seeing Lannister and Tully come to blows.

Edwyn eyes them both a moment as if considering the situation. "If the Princess has no objections than neither do I Ser Thadeus. Forgive my intrusion Princess Visenya…I simply felt compelled to make certain you were alright. I will return to my drinking now." He bows his head respectfully and turns to go back to where he was before taking up his drink and taking a long gulp sending Killian a shy and slightly embarrassed smile his cheeks flushed a bit though whether its from the drink or embarrassment is rather hard to tell. "And I'm very sorry for leaving your company so abruptly."

Tellur smiles, which is, in Tellur terms, a less angry grimace, and he says to the girl "You are wicked, but very useful, no wonder the man of the Rills is amused by you. Thankyou, lass. I've a new pet you might like to see." Kids…like pets. Right? He laughs at Killian, weakly, then says "It's stitched tight and healing. He did. I think? I've no memory. I was rather drugged I think…" Then Edwyn is arriving, and Tellur peers at him.

Snogging royals isn't very interesting, not when compared to stories of battle scars and being called 'wicked' with approval. "I am not sure I should pass on such kind words," Keli says with a momentarily teasing grin, swigging more. Poor deflated Edwyn, a sight the child is becoming more familiar with, and if he does let his gaze pass her way, she'll at least show she's happy to see him. Or you know. Just look at his pretty face. Momentary stare. Tear eyes away. Eat more.

Tellur pages Edwyn and Killian: Everyone's stupid enough to try to kiss her, maybe even Tellur is!

Killian gives Edwyn and encouraging grin and lifts his tankard in salute. "Very chivalrous, Eddie." He gives him another friendly pat on the back, "Ye looked to have it in hand. If ye hadn't I'd've had your back." He drops his voice so as to only carry to he imediate companion, "I don't blame ye for wanting to catch the eye of such a fine lass, but I strongly suspect if ye catch her, she'll eat ye for breakfast. Best drown yer sorrow in ale, Lad." He leans behind Tellur for another of Keli's pastries, muttering something as he does. he munches, trying to sop up some of the ale in his stomach.

You whisper, "We ought to talk about your long sleep another time when it's more private. We could have lost ye."" to Tellur.

Thadeus seems to take Visenya's words into consideration, still, he hesitates before he allows her to slip away from him, with a soft sigh of regret on his part. "True. Still, this might be refreshing change for Oldtown, to provide the common folks with gossip after all these weeks of darkness." Both brows lift as he is accused of exploiting her revealed plot. "It was after all you who told me about it, princess. In a way that some might call challenging…" His gaze flits to Edwyn and he nods. "You were misled by Princess Visenya's antics, Ser. Believe me I have plenty experience with women, and I assure you, they can be quite confusing at times. I did not act against her wishes." He moves away from them both, taking the tankard from before as he heads for the exit. "Still, I'd like some fresh air, it's gotten quite stuffy in here. Princess. My lord of Lannister. Captain. Until we meet again." A bow is offered to Visenya and to Edwyn, the others receive a casual wave in farewell, before the Tully leaves, his two guards falling in behind him.

Edwyn meets Tellur's gaze a moment studying him in return before looking to Kelinyx and offering a small smile and then he is looking back to Killian. He blushes a dark pink and lowers his head. Whatever else that Killian says to him as the Lannisport heirs head jerking up to look at the Ironborn Lord. He blinks his eyes wide with surprise. "I..I don't..I'm not…..I need more ale." He stutters out looking lost and utterly confused. Its a rather cute look for him in truth.

"Probably not," Tellur admits to the girl, and he eats the pastry, in an attempt to put some muscle back on his now thin bones. He coughs, covering his mouth, and then he picks up his cup of ale, before tilting his head as Killian speaks. Tellur frowns, quietly, turning his head away, but then uneasily nods. There is a certain guilty tinge to his features. He watches Edwyn fluster, then decides to speak, his voice a low Northern growl "Hello, lad. My name is Tellur Snow, I'm one of Lord Carolis Stark's men." 'Lad' indeed. He's of an age with Edwyn.

Kelinyx is favoring the drink, now, and curls her legs underneath herself, sitting, well, more perching like she might spring to her feet at a moment's notice. "I wonder if kissin's what caused the plague," she idly muses, eyes back to the two in a hesitant embrace, then scanning the features of the men around her. "Stabbin' still makes more sense than snoggin', at least to me."

"I only pray it doesn't reach my poor sister." Visenya says, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear as to if she means it or not. "Really, Ser Thadeus. How can you accuse me of such things when I bear my siblings in such high esteem?" It must be a rhetorical question as she turns away from him before it can be responded to. Slinking over to where the remaining men are she stops near Edwyn, "That was very gallant of you, Ser." A pause, and Tellur catches her sight. "Tellur Snow! You look like death. I've heard you've had troubles at the Weirwood Manse. Lord Carolis is ill?"

Killian gives a full throated laugh of delight at Edwyn's blushing and throws an arm around his shoulder, "Lad, if ye can honestly say ye weren't thinking of a bit of reward kissing fror yersel' I will buy ye all the drinks ye want for the rest of the night." He takes pity and places a full tankard in Edwyn's hand. "Drink up, Lad. Yer among friends. Tellur's a good sort and a fine horseman, and ye have my vow to keep ye from dancing on tables." he laughs again, "Keli, lass, give it a few years and ye'll be thinking of nothing but snogging like the rest of us." And then the Dragoness herself is addressing then. He drops his arm and straightens up, trying to look more, if not respectable, at least more sober.

Loryn comes in from the street.

Edwyn gives Tellur a small but still rather warm smile. "A pleasure to meet you Tellur Snow, I am Lord Edwyn Lannister, heir to Lannisport." He raises a brow at Kelinyx. "Something tells me you have never kissed anyone or you wouldn't say that." Killian's arm wrapping around Edwyn causes his eyes to widen. Suddenly he goes very still as if trying to control a reaction of some kind. Visenya's approach is met with a soft and rather shy smile. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time Princess. I hope my actions did not upset you, I only wished to make sure your wishes were respected." He looks down seeing he has more ale now and drinks some more.

"That's wise," Tellur tells Kelinyx, and he shakes his head "Who knows what causes plagues, but foul air and worse habits. Beasts who feed where they foul often make disease for themselves - the same can be true of humans." Still, the Princess is coming over, and he hauls himself to his feet, and says "That's because I made his acquaintance recently, your Majesty - but I'll recover. I have the God's own luck, it seems. We did - we came into the silk poisoner's plotting by accident and one of their men put a large hole in me." He grins, humourless "Lord Carolis had the ague, so was having trouble, and then the bastards - excuse me - poisoned most of our guards." A solemn nod to Edwyn, and Tellur says to him respectfully "Milord, then."

The girl listens quietly as each party shares their own (potentially drunken) input on love versus lethality, and Edwyn's response draws a laugh from her, kind and amused but with a hint of near scolding. Tellur's input makes her ultimately nod a bit but then her eyes widen and she peers at him more seriously, as though she gathered there was /something/ happening beneath the surface of those words.

Visenya's approach has Keli's attention and she doesn't get in the way, doesn't do anything rude. Apparently there might be some unspoken non-interference agreement going on in Keli's head, at least.

"You have no guards?" Visenya seems vexed by this. More vexed than an overly grabby Tully. "That will not due at all. You'll just have to have some of mine." Visenya is as good at ignoring Keli as Keli is at avoiding Visenya. "Shot you? Goodness, Tellur Snow. You're a man not a pincushion." She offers Edwyn another smile, "Of course not. Ser Thadeus just had too much to drink. I'm sure he'll feel very silly in the morning."

Loryn Tyrell is late to the party. Seven knows where the lad's been. But he enters the tavern now, having heard whispers that it's lively in there. So for a moment he just stands and tries to figure out what's going on…

Edwyn winces at Tellur's mention of poison. "Yes their poison was rather potent…I only recovered from my experience with it recently." He looks troubled and take a long drink of his ale. "Well they are dead or captured now at least. I am going to be more careful in the future though." It may or may not be known that Edwyn was present at the raid on the silk plotters…in fact it was he who killed their main leader. He goes silent looking thoughtful and drinking deeply now.

"We have some guards - and your brother has sent some aid, but more would be better," says Tellur, who apparently believes caution to be the better part of…well, everything, when it comes to protecting his Lord. He grins at Kelinyx, showing his sharp eye-teeth and says to her "I mean nothing by it lass. But…yes, your majesty, shot, a…again." A light frown, and Tellur adds "It is getting a bit tiresome. Most of our guards have recovered - the dosage initially appears to have been too light to kill. Though some are mad, now." He gives Edwyn a side-long glance "I've been recovering for most of it - how do you know?"

Killian gives Edwyn a worried look, "Are ye well? I could look ye over if yer worried. I do a bit of healing, more wounds than poison though." Things are going a little too fast for his somewhat alcohol fogged brain, "What has happened, exactly? I know of plague, but not poison, except for guards being locked up when I came with the soup."

"You'll have more." Visenya says to Tellur. "I'll send them over at first light." That promised she steps away from the table. "But for now I think I've had enough excitement for tonight." A pause, "Tell Lord Carolis I will pray to the Mother that she nurtures him, and gives him a fast recovery." That said, the Princess and her personal guard turn to leave.

Edwyn sighs offering Killian a soft smile at his concern. "Oh I am fine now. I was just…not myself for a couple days. The poison made me lose myself I had to be kept under watch but I am better now." He looks to Tellur briefly and dips his head low as Visenya moves to leave. "Goodbye Princess, it was a pleasure seeing you again." He looks back to Tellur. "I was present at the raid on the silk plotters. I inhaled something I shouldn't have and got struck a couple times with a poisoned blade."

Tellur inclines his head to the Princess - for Lords and Ladies, there is, at least, respect. And he keeps his eyes on the table, before he says to Edwyn "Ah. I found. Their hideout for the raid. But I am not really much of a…man for such close quarters combat." Which is a fancy way of saying 'Especially while shot through with an arrow'.

Killian touches Edwyn's arm still looking concerned, "And here I am plying ye with drink when ye've serious things on your mind." Then he is making and unsteady bow, "Princess," before resuming his seat, "So we have two heroes right here, wounded by poisoners!" He lifts his tankard, "Too foiling plots and surviving!"

Edwyn looks at Killian and blinks a couple times looking a bit confused. He looks down at the hand on his arm and smiles shyly. "But I am enjoying your company, it is an excellent distraction. Dwelling on regrets doesn't change the past you know. I needed a distraction…thats why I came here." He looks up meeting the other lords eyes with a gentle smile. "But its late and I should head back soon." Still he doesn't seem eager to leave.

Tellur puts his empty cup down, having toasted, and he grins at Killian wearily, then says "I need more alcohol. Or poppy. One of the two." He then says to Edwyn "I'm glad you could…I'm glad you could assist, Lord." And he frowns, before saying "But it is late. You will always be welcome at our Manse, however."

Toasting is fun, Keli likes to do it, likes to lead silly ones when she can, and it's an excuse for her to drink. Yup, she's got a flagon and all, at the table with Killian, Tellur and Edwyn, as though she was just one of the big kids.

Seeing familiar people toasting something, Loryn saunters over, looking at the small group. "Tellur. Keli. You shouldn't be here.", he tells the girl pointlessly, then eyes the others he knows only vaguely from sight.

Killian leaves the hand where it is. Looking into Edwyn's eyes he asks, with those odd eyes of his. "Would ye like someone to walk you home? I've drunk more than my share, and would not mind if ye'd like company… Or we could all walk ye if ye were wanting safety in numbers after your ordeal." His fingers trail down Edwyn's arm, "Whatever ye like, Eddie." Then a stranger is approaching and the man removes his hand. he is dressed in a tunic several centuries out of style and his accent is just as archaic, a mix of the North and the Iron Islands. "Tellur here's in need of a little numbing. can't a wounded soldier drink a pint in peice?"

Edwyn blushes a little at Killian's offer. "If you wanted to accompany I certainly wouldn't mind. The company would be welcome." He smiles shyly and finishes off his drink before getting ready to leave. "I will be on my way now. Good night to all of you, it has been a pleasure." He offers a polite dip of his head before starting for the door. He pauses and looks back briefly to see if Killian will follow him.

"Lord Loryn," Tellur says. Once more, there is that respect. Tellur is, for Loryn's benefit, a good deal thinner than he should be, pale, shakey, and clearly in some form of pain, though the more he drinks, the better he feels himself to be. He says to Killian "I think the Lord has been talking to the lass there. But perhaps it's good that I'm not for any trouble right now. I can barely manage to get to a privy."

Eonn appears in the door, looking around. His eyes settle on Kelinyx. A little smile touches the corners of his mouth.

Killian knows a good thing when he sees one and hangs Tellur his barely touched tankard squeeing his shoulder on the uninjured side, "take care, my friend." He needs a moment to steady his balance, and then he's off after Edwyn all loose limbed swagger.

Some shapes, stances, shadows are just too familiar, and Keli's eyes lock on to Eonn's silhouette. She holds her cup aloft as if in invitation to the man. /Something/ that happened recently has her grinning big, cheeks even a little pink but she says nothing of it.

And of course, Loryn is noticed quickly and given a friendly grin of welcome, too.

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