(121-12-10) Well Met at the Acacia
Well Met at the Acacia
Summary: Various people meet at the Acacia and Leopard Hall.
Date: Date of play (10/12/121)
Related: None.

Leandro comes bearing food, a tray stacked with some bowls, bread, and soup. Contrary to the description he's managed to have a second bed made up for Hawke to crash on. "Still alive?" He asks. "It's time to eat again."

The first day that Hawke got here, he passed right out and pretty much slept through the day, and responded to any efforts to wake him by making a good impression of a bump on a log. However, today he's a little more lively, and also a little less… content… to sit in one place, and has been a little fidgety all day. At least he looks less like he's been run over today? He's got a busted rib and is wearing loose clothes, and he eyes Madrighal as he creaks in. "People sure like their lack o' clothes in these parts," he comments offhand as Leandro comes in.

"Eat," Leandro demands as he ladles out the soup for both of them. It's rich with meat and vegetables and most certainly has some Dornish spice in it, not too hot though. He settles down with his own bowl and starts devouring it.

Madrighal peers at Hawke, blinking. His voice is Dornish accented and richly expressive, if anything even more lovely now so much of the rest of him has been burned away by fever. "Oh! you are awake. I was asleep when they brought you in." With a self mocking smile, "I am what is left of Madrighal Sand acknowledged of the Torlands."

Hawke pushes himself up to a cross-legged sit with a wince, and, really, with what he's been used to (not) eating, anything edible is pretty awesome. He takes the soup as it's offered, and eyes Madrighal a bit. "What's left of," he echoes, some question buried in there, but he only introduces himself with, "Name's Hawke."

"Not too much," Leandro says to Hawke. "You can have more later, make sure that stays down first though. Maester Leandro." He offers the title too and eats more of his soup.

Madrighal starts dressing while still sitting. It's a sturdier and thus warmer outfit than his usual silks, the simple cut contrasting with bright silk screened designs. The clothes are baggy, not having taken into account a month spent in bed barely eating, "Do not worry, I am no longer contagious. I was an early sufferer of the recent plague, but one of the last too recover. It is a pleasure to meet you Hawke. Maester Leandro rescued you yes?"

Hawke, wise as he is, pays little attention to the warning, tucking into the soup with little regard to the spicy heat; he may regret that later. "If you were sick that long, no wonder. I saw enough've that plague." He snorts, shakes his head, and sends a look sideways to Leandro. "Aye, him 'n two others fished us out. You heard word of the other, he live?"

"He's still alive," Leandro says. "That healer worked miracles saving his life like that." He issues the warning about the food, he'll let Hawke pay for it later. "You have family in Oldtown? Friends that'll help you get back on your feet? Anyone we should send a raven to to let know of your whereabouts?"

Madrighal studies Hawke, "Where are you from? The shipwreck must have been terrifying…. They say it is a miracle I survived at all, let along with my mind intact. The fever can burn away a man's wits."

"No. What I've known for years was on that ship." Hawke makes a face, but it's just with an even shrug. "'n I'll pick through the wreck, try to find that grave robber who picked her bones." Oh, that's a tad grouchy. To Madrighal, though, he gives a wry grin. "From? A bit o' everywhere." Not that he doesn't practically bleed Iron Islands from accent and looks, though the accent's also been bastardized by years of sea-talk.

"His name's Ser Elyas Jordayne, although I'm sure he'd prefer you called him Captain" Leandro says. "Better him than another since at least now you can go find him and strike some sort of deal. I think he crashed his boat too so you've a lot in common. He has a crew and some money though. If you've any money with the Iron Bank, there's a woman in town that he knows who works for them. Or you could negotiate a loan."

Madrighal leans over to touch his arm with a fragile hand. His long lashed eyes are all sympathy, "I can't imagine the depth of your loss Hawke. I am sorry. We will do our best to give you hospitality and companionship for now, but surely you have people back home? Will they not worry about you if they here of the loss of your ship?" He eyes Leandro, "Is not Elyas the one goes about shaking his genitals at strangers in the street?" He wrinkles his nose in distaste. He himself is dressed now and has the excuse that he was not in public.

"Yep, that's the Elyas," Leandro says with a chuckle. "He's not quite all there."

"Lovely things to bond over," the Greyjoy mutters 'round more soup, but looks Considering somehow, eyes shadowed as he thinks. The hand on his arm, though, pulls his attention up, and he looks somehow like he's a bit baffled on how to take such empathy. "I'm sure there's those who'd grieve at the thought of her broken to bits," he says, so soberly. "But. I've been on my own." And his brows climb. "This's the strangest town."

"You," Leandro says to Madrighal. "Need to eat some dessert. There's more soup too if you want it. Try not to scandalize your guest too much." He's got no real time for grief it would seem, or all this talk of emotions, so he stands up and heads off to find some sweets.

Madrighal says softly, "If I were to lose my lute I would be heartbroken. She has traveled with me since I was little." Indeed, the lute case is in the bed as if he had meed snuggling her. He sighs at yet another person telling him to eat, but dutifully withdraws his hand and eats five whole mouthfuls of soup so Leandro might see.

Hawke casts a glance toward the lute, features unreadable, and then shifts a look back toward Madrighal as he finishes off his bowl of soup. "I've survived this long, I'll figure out this." He grunts. "There any ale in this place? That's the stuff that'll cure my bones at this point."

Madrighal gives Hawke a bright smile, "There is a very good selection of wine. I will go with you if you will give me a hand on the stairs. This is a Dornish place and best to be accompanied."

Madrighal is settled in at a table with a blanket and his lute case. He hasn't oiled his hair today, so it is fluffed out in a stiff kinky halo making his head look twice as large. He is skeletal really, despite attempts to build him back up, skin the color of polished walnut stretched over mostly bone and wasted muscle. From the bone structure of his face, he was likely once beautiful. Now his big dark eyes with their long lashed dominate his face. his clothes are a sturdier and thus warmer outfit than his usual silks, the simple cut contrasting with bright silk screened designs. The clothes are baggy, not having taken into account a month spent in bed barely eating.

Hawke's just in a light linen shirt and breeches, shirt loose-laced and showing hints of the tattoos on his chest and arms. He looks sore and tired, and he's most certainly not Dornish in this Dornish place. He helps Madrighal down the stairs a little awkwardly, kinda uncertain about what exactly he's doing but playing nice for the moment, and he's certainly happy to find some wine. He's not picky, either. "So you were sick for awhile, then?" he hazards, just a tad wary.

Peri is quiet, entering with a basket of things on her arm, knocking on Madrighal's door quite gently, her hair piled high with roses, pearls and heavy curls, body hanging out of her loose silk gown. "Madrighal, I recieved your letter." she calls, Lysene accent heavy today. The tall woman is smoothing her gown as she stretches her legs. HEr grin is showing, just a bit of red lip stain on today.

Madrighal nods, "Most of a month. It was… not pleasant. Did you have it too ore were you one of the lucky one? Do you like red wine or white? I am very fond of a dry Greenblood white, but am such a light weight now, it would likely not be wise." Spotting the Lyseene woman he waves her to them, a sunny smile on his skullike face.

"I'm not all that picky," the Greyjoy says, looking up as Peri comes in, giving her a quirk of a grin. "Ah, it's the one that saved my hide." Sort of. He's not particularly shy of grabbing a bottle of wine where he's directed, a bit haphazard about selecting type. "I did. Not as badly as some of the crew, though. Many of them, they went under quick."

There are not many Dornish left in Oldtown, between the events following the Trial of the Seven and the recent wave of disease. Most have returned to their home climes, but some remain. Evidently the Lady Fowler is among those still claiming residence in Oldtown, and if she seemed to preside over the Acacia and Leopard Hall like its principal before, she does so even more now, overseeing its operation as the ranking member of their nobility left behind in Oldtown.

When she sweeps in from the back lounge, where one might have heard the sounds of guests being entertained, Alaeyna eyes the motley crew assembled around Madrighal, and remarks, "My, what a curious assortment of characters we play host to this evening."

Peri eyes Mad, and Hawke, swaying her hips to move to greet Madrighal, an overly foreward and fond kiss placed directly on the comparably tiny man's lips. "You wanted your hair done?" she asks, smiling and looking over Hawke "I barely examined you, if you want a checkup, you'll have to wait until I finish his hair. "Hello." she offers with a grin, taking a few red feathers out, laying them down to straighten them "You wanted proper braiding, yes?" she asks.

Madrighal selects his favorite white, given the lack of pickiness, "Would you like more to eat. There is nothing like good home cooking after infirmity broth. For some it is not as bad as it was for me. They say Lord Carolis Stark was sick unto death, but his fever broke in three days and one day we may blow our lizards at the Quill." He spots the Lady Alaeyna but hasn't the energy for a strong reaction after the exhaustion of stairs. He gives her a seated bow, polite enough, "I know it is an offense to you, but I am entertaining this shipwrecked Captain at the behest of Maester Leandro. It is better to convalesce somewhere civilized, don't you think? and this place is as Civilized as it gets this side of the Mountains. The Mistress Peri was kind enough to come help me with my hair." He smiles up at Peri, "I think tight little braids would be easier for me to handle just now, as I will not be performing publicly. Thank you so much for coming. You have met captain hawke? This is Lady Alaeyyna Fowler."

Hawke collapses back into the seat with a wince, ribs twinging, and eyes the wine Madrighal selected with a sort've open longing. "Hair done?" he echoes, dubious, as Peri threatens Madrighal with such a fate, and then wearily looks up toward Alaeyna with a quirk of a bare grin. "Hawke," he offers her, not impolite, per se, but casual. "A pleasure, m'lady."

Peri chuckles "I met Hawke. I met him before." she shifts, curtsying properly to Alaeyna before taking a comb to begin slowly detangling Madrighal's hair with calmness clear on her features. "I am Peri, a follower of the seven great sighs of Lys, the thrice drowned mermaid, and a stolen pearl." she offers vaguely, taking a bit of oil from a clay jar to work into tangles as she goes, taking her sweet time "Do you want to smell like summer ginger as well?" she asks down at Mads curiously. Hawke is leered at over the curls in hand, her expression vaguely bothered.

"On the contrary," Alaeyna begins, brooking argument with Madrighal. "It is not your company that offends me, but rather that you presume to know my mind." Still, even for having claimed to be offended at all, her humor seems bright, her spirits sparkling. She smiles pleasantly at Peri, and then cants her head in consideration of Hawke. She mistakes his meaning, when he invokes her house's sigil, thinking him to be making oblique reference to the creatures that House Fowler is notorious for keeping, rather than realizing that it is himself he names. It's only once Madrighal affixes a "captain" to the front of it that understanding crystallizes in her dark stare. "Captain Hawke, is it? One wonders if you might prove so easily tamed as the winged kin with which you share a name."

Madrighal waves at the bottle, "Help yourself, Captain Hawke. I am paying for this evening." He does another seated bow, "My apologies, My Lady. You are welcome to share wine with us." He leans in to the combing. His hair has been well cared fore since last Peri saw it, kept clean and frequently oiled, but the daily styling is exhausting for an invalid. "I admit, I only met Captain Hawke a little bit ago, so you have the older acquaintance, Mistress Peri. Ginger would be very nice, thank you."

Hawke glances to Peri more thoughtfully at that name, some consideration passing over his features, but it's something that's stowed away rather than commented on. Instead, lo, booze. He takes the offer and a cup and pours himself some, perhaps a little more civilized than one might expect out of a sea-goer. And, somehow, when he leans back he looks positively delighted by Alaeyna's comment. "You're certainly welcome t'try, m'lady Fowler," he muses 'round a swallow of the wine. "But someone needs to advise my bird that he's supposed t'be tame."

Alaeyna flashes Hawke a smile that's as equally delighted as his own. "You ought know, captain, that when it comes to my chosen prey, I strike as true as any raptor. Better that you drown me in wine and hope I abandon the notion altogether."

She looks between the three of them, then, and says, "I must insist that your leisure this evening is at House Fowler's expense. I have so missed playing host to guests these past weeks that I find myself wanting to make up for it with rivers of wine and mountains of Dornish delicacies." Whether she's referring to food or flesh is hard to say, exactly, because both are on offer here.

Peri is gentl, slowly teasing along Madrighal's scalp, taking a bone tool from her basket to part Madrighal's hair, taking a series of small combs to pin his hair into sections, using the bone piece to precisely organize the rows. She seems to have a system and know what she's doing "May I have a glass of the wine? Or perhaps steal sips from you? I've been denied for quite some time." she shifts behind Mads, braiding slowly and affectionately enough. She watches Alaeyna curiously "My bath house is going to reopen soon, Would you like to come? I might throw a party with Dornish shrimp skewers and ground chickpeas." she muses, "Or perhaps a small feast if I can manage it, the water feels quite lovely, hot as a dragon's fire in the hottest pools."

Madrighal bows again, "I cede all claim to host to the Lady. What sane man deny her?" He blushes faintly, "Mistress Peri, I am a terrible host. Of course you ought eat and drink with us."

Peri laughs "No, I must be sober or they'll be crooked. Now, do you want them in the woman style, or the men's style?" she asks, curiously "As you've the hair for either way. The women's are more braids, the men's follow the scalp." she muses.

Hawke grins, taking another swallow of the wine. "Well, by all means, join us in havin' a glass or two, but I can't say I hope ye abandon any notions." The hair-braiding and such is eyed sideways with some amount of not-quite-discomfort, but something lingering around it.

Madrighal's capitulation pleases the Lady Fowler nigh as much as her colorful discourse with the captain, enough so that she delivers explicit instructions to the tender of the bar regarding how freely the drink should be flowing this evening for their communal benefit. To Peri, Alaeyna remarks, "That sounds as though it would be a true pleasure, indeed. I shall have to indulge your invitation."

The sounds of laughter and revelry come creeping out of the back lounge, seeming to remind Alaeyna of the entourage she's left behind. "Enjoy yourselves," she bids them all. "And join us later, if you like." With that, she takes her leave, pausing only to deliver Hawke a kiss to either of his cheeks in parting, murmuring something at his ear. And then she crosses back in the direction she came, toward the lounge where her party awaits.

Madrighal laughs softly, "In the Men's style for a singer, not the men's style for a warrior. I am a man of music, not a man of war." He explains to Hawke, "My Grandmother was from the Isles. They say I have her eyes." To Lady Alaeyna, "That is most kind. May your evening be all you desire.

Peri is quiet, observing Alaeyna, giving a polite bow of her head, returning to working on the sections of Mad's hair, grinning a touch "My lover was a warrior, you know, so if I falter, forgive me." she leans down, leaning to kiss Mads gently on the side of his neck below his ear, just once teasingly, perhaps being competitive - or perhaps being a tease. She begins braiding, quickly and efficiently. "If you'd rather, I can come do your hair daily, you know." she murmurs "Or bring a couple girls to do our hair so we can chat." she teases at Mads "I have the most beautiful woman working for me. She has this amazing copper hair with skin darker than mine, and these amazing yellowish brown eyes. A bit skinny though. So lovely." she prattles off.

"You know th'way straight to a man's heart," the Captain o' the pile-of-useless declares, the kiss and the murmured words bringing a wry smile and a tip up of the cup. "Of course, m'Lady. And have yourself a lovely evening." He winks, and then slowly hefts himself to his feet, grimacing at the twinge to his ribs. "I'll leave you two for a moment, to your—hair." That's not awkward at all, and he takes another swallow of the wine, and then, with another quirked grin and a tip of the cup, wanders a bit to go check out the rest of the drinks that might be available. When booze is running free…

Madrighal doesn't seem to mind the kissing, though his usually flirtatious nature is softened by his illness. he cocks his head a little to make it easier for the tall woman to reach without bending so far. "Braids are easier to take care of after the hours it takes to make them. Where is she from, Peri? She sounds lovely." He tells the departing Hawke, "There are a variety of services available besides food and drink, and many rooms put to a variety of purposes. I will understand if the length of time you have been at sea leave you with more than one kind of thirst."

Peri is quiet "Past Yi ti I believe. I'm not sure, She's Essosi like me, much smaller though." she offers with a laugh, eying Hawke "I can talk to you too if you'd like. How do you enjoy being a squid, a sailor if you will? I find the seas rough these days." she offers, brushing her fingers along the hair "I wonder if I could bring my dancing jewelry and dance here once a week. Its considered lewd to wear in town. And I've gained quite a lotta weight since I had it." she chuckles "My ass got huge." she offers, watching both men "You should try the pretty woman with the brown feathers in her hair and dark lips, I've seen her at a party, her hips are like waves and she can do a wonderful massage." she offers to Hawke, cheerfully "Also her lipstain tastes of black cherries."

Hawke's brows climb a tick at Madrighal's offer. "Are there now? That sounds like one've the better ideas of the evening." He grins, and finishes off his cup of wine. "It's th'best of lives and the worst've lives, and I wouldn't give it up for my weight in gold." That certainly does snag his interest, though. "But, if you two'll excuse me, I think I have me some brown feathers and cherries to find. Lovely evenin' to you both."

You say, "They are fairly strict about it being Dornish entertainment only here. It is meant to be home away from home for us. I find your bottom well shaped, Mistress." he laughs, "Happy hunting Hawke!""

Peri grins lopsidedly, adding red feathers into Madrighal's hair, she waves to Hawke "He's handsome, I'd pin him to a mattress if I knew him better." she offers "I was told once, I'd have a career in a pillow house until my fifties if I ever wanted it in Dorne." she offers with a chuckle, "If your braids get itchy, gently drum your fingers along them.." she measures his hair, taking out some red beads to add to the braids, moving around to get a look at him "I'll touch them with ginger in a moment." she muses.

Madrighal sighs, "I would too if he were so inclined and my staff still capable of standing. I'd sample your red headed girl too, if she had a mind, but I fear such days may be past for me…. we Dornish do not think a woman faded the moment she is plucked like these Westeroi. Man and women may have many tastes and beauty is more varied than flowers of the earth."

Peri watches him "When you get better, if you can get him to stand, let me know." she snorts "Westerosi men think I'm plenty attractive, despite the fact I'm getting a bit on in age and have not only been plucked but plundered and had a bastard." she seems calm taking a velvet pouch out,opening it to take out a very carefully wrapped little polished silver mirror for him. "What do you think? If you don't like it I can redo it, but I wanted to show those lovely curls. You have the finest hair of any man I've met in the past five years." she murmurs, appraisingly.

Madrighal laughs, "You are a beauteous peak some men are not brave enough to climb." He peers at himself, and tries not to weep at the sight of his own face. Instead he tries to focus on the hair. "It is quite beautiful, Mistress Peri. I like the feathers and beads. It is cheerful.

Peri considers him. "I .. brought you some things." She looks around, taking out some cosmetics, opening them "You need to put fat back on your body but for now, I brought you a concealer." she smiles a bit "Its a shame, I don't bite.. too terribly hard. I simply want to love and be loved. I'm a mother, not dead." she takes the concealer, using her finger to put the concoction under his eyes, carefully "I need to find a new place to lay out in the sun. She ponders "Mm my stomach is almost back to normal from child birth - I'm still a bit… well you know the stretch of the belly new mothers have while their body works to recover."she offers with a laugh "It'll snap back or not - I do not care. A man who won't bed me because my stomach has some stretch marks and a bit of fat is not worth bedding." she muses, taking ginger scented oil to mix with hibiscus, doing so in her hands, adding a bit of citris to the mix, working it into the curls, teasing them to puff up. "If you want, I wasn't joking, We don't mind coming to tend you. Lysene and Dornish get on quite well."

Leandro was distracted by someone or other asking for his services as a maester. And now he has to search out his patients. He's carrying with him a fruit-ice, all sweet, refreshing and easy on the throat, with candied peel and jewel-bright slivers of fruit on the plate surrounding that shaved ice and fruit centre-piece. Yep, still playing waiter as he saunters over to wherever Madrighal and Peri are, and without a care interupts with a. "You're not eating." The fancy concoction is placed down in front of Madrighal.

Madrighal has his hair braided up tight to the scalp with beeds and feathers and the loose ends making a bushy sort of Mowhawk. "That is the way to look at it. If they do not want you as you are, why bother with them." He closes his eyes and lets her work on him. "You have a business to run and it would be an imposition on you. I am well cared for, I promise." He opens his eyes on hearing his friend's voice, "Lea that is… the most tempting thing I have seen since I got ill. what is in it?"

Peri looks at the fruit ice and she looks insanelyy confused. "I would like to eat that, what is that?" she asks, putting the things away "This one, he's so attractive, yes?" she asks, touching Mads' face gently. She takes her glass of wine at last, putting her hair sorting things away and combs into her basket, wrapping her polished silver "I'm still eased on maternity leave and we're only serving very very very rich clients right now. In their homes. Its actually almost five times more profitable." she admits with a laugh "But the men are learning we are not whores - to adhere to a benefactor's requirement to not compete. However if a girl goes off for a half hour and has a romp it is of no concern to me as long as she doesn't charge for it." she offers, waving her hand, "It looks delicious, you should eat it." she offers to Madrighal "Oh maybe someday I'll find a man I will spend the rest of my days with, but I'll be happy if I find a man I'll be able to wake up with and feel against my body at night." she grins "My son has enough father-like folk to grow up with. His education coin is already set aside." she leans to kiss Mad's cheek. "How are you, Maester?" she asks, legs folding.

"Eat it and find out," Leandro replies to Madrighal. "Or else I will before it melts." There is just one spoon and he is smiling despite the bluntness of his words. There's a glance to Peri, a look back at Madrighal. "No sharing, Maester's orders. Although if you've the coin I'm sure they'll make you one too." He then promptly turns his back to ask. "Where's that sailor?" Peering around the room for Hawke.

Madrighal does try the ice, fascinated, "Is this Sherbert? I have heard of it, but it is only for the richest of nobles, I thought." He takes another spoonful, closing his eyes and looking nigh orgasmic. "Now I truly have been spoiled…. I agree it is nice to wake up with someone there, Mistress Peri." Soon he is eating, really eating, with evident delight, "Lady Alaeyna Fowler was in a good mood and bought his night's entertainment for him. he is trying all the services, I think, having been at sea some time."

Peri considers "He went to curl up with a comely young woman with magic hips." she offers "He's quite fine a bit tender though I wouldn't worry." she returns to the mystery item on the plate pausing "What is it? I don't even know what to order? How expensive is it?" she asks curiously to Leandro, looking intrigued "What flavors do they make it in?" She's never seen it before "Is it good?" she eyes Mad "I was going to get some of that delicious smelling meat wrapped in strange thin bread with vegetables they have over on the other table. maybe I shouldn't" she murmurs, digging into her breasts to take out her coin purse, taking a moment to lean under the table to count her coin. She's… looking a little nervous, the plague has after all eaten her disposable income and she has been on maternity leave.

You say, "Peri, I have never tasted anything like this! It is Amazing!" he smiles wickedly, "I believe as you are of our party, House Fowler pays for you tonight.""

"There are ways of making ice in the dessert," Leandro says. "Of course the temperatures here don't get quite cold enough to do so. Also of shipping ice down from the wall in large enough chunks that they won't melt. Hmm, if I could find a reliable enough way to trade in ice I'd be rich." He's musing over that now. "Forget lead into gold, it's water into ice that's far more valuable." He shakes his head broken out of his wealth induced reverie. "Is he mad? Is she mad? Likely he'll just fall asleep halfway through assuming he doesn't do himself some more damage. Oh well, if he's well enough to be engaging in such antics, he's well enough to be living off of Lady Fowler's coin elsewhere. If he tries to get back into the room, tell him where he can go. I've no time for fools who're determined to do themselves injuries." He laughs suddenly. "Oh, I'll just put that onto Lady Fowler's tab then."

Peri smiles "Let him stay another day or two, we'll see how he feels in the morning. He may have been bolder than his body admits, he's an ironman, you could hack one of their legs off and so long as they could get the first mate to salute they'd be at it like a dog who's found a bitch in heat." she offers with a knowledgeable grin. She gestures at the waitress "One of those please." when asked about fruit, she stops "The spiced cherry, please, ah and a seasoned meat wrap thing." she points at what looks like a gyro not that far off. "And a bottle of sweet wine. If I'm going to feel this in the morning I should like to feel it proper. Also a plate of spiced Dornish olives please. I find them delightful." Yes. She's feasting. "Thank you Maester!"

Madrighal tsks at Leandro, "Let a man have his fun 'an he hurt none. If he falls to sleep in the middle it's proof he's best here with us and it may be he numbs the pain of his loss with the bottle as much as his ribs." He strokes the lute case. "The man has lost everything." He smiles at Peri, "Best to enjoy it when it is offered." He is trying out the candied bits, still in the throws of delight.

Leandro rolls his eyes. "You've too much heart and not enough sense. Fine, I will refrain from barging into his room and embarrassing him. There are no promises though that there won't be any lectures if he has done himself further damage. And if he's engaging in self-destructive behavior I'd rather not get involved."

Peri eyes Leandro "Lust returning is a good sign for his body. It shows his blood is unpoisoned." she offers, smiling warmly "If he hurts himself, this might be an area I'm better suited to handling." she offers "As I'm a former concubine and well.. hah." she looks delighted at the occurrences "I feel so guilty being out this late without going home to check on my little one."

"Oh good," Leandro says. "I'm going to send everyone who wants me to look at such ailments to you from now on. Please be sure to charge them a pretty penny for the privilege."

You say, "Will your babe be all right? I did not think before sending you the note." he laughs a sunny, almost himself sort of laugh, "You can send that cock waving Jordayne to her. I do not think Mistress Peri will put up with his nonsense."

Peri hms? laughing a bit "just remember that I've no tolerance for crying men." she offers, thoughtfully leaning against Mad's side gently "My Babe will be fine, his wet nurse stays with him while I work, but, we work together as often as possible so our babes bond close to us when possible." she offers "But ah, I did not wish to bring my babe to such a loud place as this, he's so small and the noise could scare him something fierce." she offers. "I charge ten silver moons per hour of private medical consultation for men. I charge a groat per hour for midwife services…" she offers. "Other womanly services vary but generally run under a star." she offers with a toothy grin. She does not get male clients for sexual examinations, apparently "My massages which are medically acceptable tend to vary depending on the client, the sort." she looks wide eyed when her hot food and olives arrive, digging in without complaint.

"Wonderful," Leandro says. "I will send them all to you and they can stop bothering me or complaining that they do not wish to go to the citadel."

You say, "It is often chaotic here and sometimes they are throwing sharp knices for fun. It is not a good place for babies." He grins at Leandro, "There! A better solution for rude sailors!"

Peri laughs "Yes! Well, when he's old enough to have fun and enjoy it here, if he's allowed I have no qualms. But perhaps, I won't be here then. I think by the time he's a teen I'll have found a new home perhaps, somewhere less tense towards foreigners where he'll be treated well despite being a bastard." she offers, thoughtfully.

Madrighal smiles crookedly at Peri, "Sounds like Dorne!"

Peri mms a bit "Maybe. If we go to Dorne, I want to live on the water's edge. I want to live in a nice house, although I may take to a good wander. I've never been free in this life until this very year."

You say, "Planxy town is mostly made of houseboats, if that's a help." He touches her arm, "I am sorry it too so long for you to be truly free."

Peri smiles "It was worth it. I got to come here, and I got to have a baby. I own things. I'm doing well!" she sounds excited, "Success though, was because of generous Dornish folk having faith in me!" she admits gesturing around "Tania Sands was my biggest supporter.

You say, "I never met her, what was she like?" He leans back, having finished (FINISHED!!!) The whole of the platter of fruit things. He curls sideways so he might rest his head on the cushion, "Tell me the story."

Peri is quiet, blushing "So pretty, as Dornish women are. Very gentle, she was a perfume maker. Made the finest. She thought it would make quite a bit of coin if used in the bath." she pauses "We used hers exclusively for the luxury baths and spa services." she admits, touching Mads' chest gently. "She's the only one who understands my skin." she breaths "Which story?" she asks, her fruit ice appearing, and she starts on it, shivering a little "Ohh.." she muses, taking a bite again "the cherries are a little sour. Want a bite?" she asks, curiously.

Madrighal's voice is soft and drifty, "The story of how you met… One bite maybe."

Peri offers the bite, leaning it forward to him, teasingly "We met when Princess Ashara.." she looks sad making a quick 'gods rest her' gesture before continuing "Was touring the Quill. She stopped and talked and said I was pretty - it was a rough time then. I was new in town and the Tyrells ah.. non consensually liberated me from my iron man who had made me a salt wife." she looks down, a little shyly. "Things progressed, I was freed, I was fired from the Garden Isle - I was told because my reputation as a whore - I am a trained concubine not a whore - offended a lord's prospects' family. I later learned it was a lie, she helped give me my bath house, as did Xhabo Duna. Oh I loved that man good and proper. His body, his mind." she closes her eyes, savoring her treat.

Madrighal cracks open his eyes long enough to bite at the spoon, making a happy, "Mmmm…" Sound on tasting it, before going mostly limp again. "I am sorry about the Princess. Many miss her, I think." He lightly strokes her arm in a sympathizing way, "It's not the same as if you had you say in it. They might have asked how you felt first…. I am sorry about you losing your man."

Peri is quiet "Mm I'll find another. It isn't like I expected either to be someone I'd die of old age with." she closes her eyes "They didn't care. They felt justified and couldn't be convinced." she touches along his arms, leaning to shift, repositioning and offering her chest as a pillow "Feel free to rest on me, I'm relatively soft to rest on, and if you need it, I can carry you to bed." she whispers, softly. "It was a positive change I needed but did not necessarily want." she admits. "It felt like the end of the world, and in a way it was, but it was a new beginning from those ashes." she smiles "Ten years with a man makes you miss them even if they are awful."

You say, "They are very rich. It can make them thoughtless. It might have been kinder to talk to you and give you time to make a choice. There is power in choosing and so much had been taken from you." He curls up and puts his head in her lap. he tires so easily and there is just so little too him. He sighs, "Freedom is better, but they might have started they meant to continue.""

Peri smiles and plays with his hair "We're all meant to do something. I think caring for people is what I'm meant ot do. Also, I think when I'm ready, I might want a daughter some day. A pretty little thing I can dress in silks and lavish in the childhood I didn't have." she smiles "Although as an older child I was allowed in silks, makeups, books, and jewels." she muses "Books are better than jewels by far."

Madrighal mmms, "I think that you will be a good mother to this one and any coming after."

Peri is gentle, petting along the man's face "Your skin needs pampered, you should get a nice facial with me some time, we can laze on a roof and relax in the warm sun. Maybe a nice massage for our feet and legs while our nails get pampered. When you are feeling better, maybe do this with me? We can drink fresh strawberries flavored wine or something." she offers, thinking "Would you like me to stay with you, in your bed for the night? Not for delights, but for comfort?" she asks.

You say, "Lea got my lotion from the Quill. It is not so bad…. We are very crowded with the three of us….."

Peri chuckles a bit "I don't mind, I used to sleep in a bed with five other women." she whispers, rubbing his face more, pampering him "You need to relax and just soak the goodness in." she looks around "You could probably sleep on my belly without even making me uncomfortable."

Madrighal wiggles his head no, "I do not want to move, Gran. I am too sleepy. Could you sing to me instead?"

Peri sings softly - she doesn't have much of a voice, but its a motherly voice used for lullabies. She seems to be singing about water lilies and beautiful mermaids that tend them off of Lys.

Madrighal snuggles in more comfy like a child might and relaxes towards sleep.

Peri is quiet with her song, playing with the mans' hair gently, waiting for him to start for sleep, considering him as she gently shifts her arms, picking up Mads in her arms, gently, with feather light hands, drawing him entirely into her lap.

Madrighal is scary light. It is honestly miraculous that he is still in his body at all. He is limp the way exhausted toddlers are limp and maybe weighs 60 pounds. he looks exhausted, as if the effort of dressing, coming downstairs and having a light meal while conversing was as strenuous as a day's hard labour.

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