(121-12-11) Widow in the Garden
Widow in the Garden
Summary: Loryn comes upon a newly returned Hightower, who then reunites with her sister.
Date: 11/12/2014
Related: None

Lower Garden - The Hightower Battle Island

The bottom two levels, giving some forty-five feet of height to the tower, are below, and the next tier of the white stone structure looms above. The second tier is narrower than the first, and the roof-space left behind supports this garden. It's a large ring, some twenty-five feet from the wall to the interior of the tower to the battlements at the roof edge. There's a paved walk along those crenellations, but the rest of the space has been floored in rich deep soil.

The garden has two winding path around the rings, twisting among beds of flowers and blossoming shrubs. They bloom profusely, and in every colour. A few small fountains are nestled amid the plants. The soil is not deep enough for large trees, so there are canopies of colourful fabric to create the shady spots. White stone benches and tables grace the shaded areas. Still, the rich earth is deep enough for small trees, and little plum trees and spreading berry bushes offer their sweets on some months.

There's a games court on the western side of the ring.

The Hightower has been abuzz with visitors today. Loryn went to see his former knight, Ser Brynden, and the Master of Coin received a visit from the Iron Bank. Before returning to Garden Isle, Ser Loryn Tyrell returns to the gardens briefly to see if Mistress Sable might still be there and he can say goodbye to her.

A figure stands at a far edge of the lower garden that was not there only a short time past, an abrupt shock of blackness amidst the abundantly colourful flowers. It's a woman in a gown, a diminutive figure made more bold by the dark fabric she's draped in, a simplistic yet masterful piece of fashion; it flows long and, in some spots, shines. Her slender back is turned, making the only clues to her identity the mourning black and the the ginger shade of her pinned hair, glinting pale in the fair day. She shifts ever-so-slightly upon notice another presence, smoothing the front of her gown in a small hurry, though she does not yet turn her head.

Loryn looks surprised when he sees the unknown figure clad in back in the garden who so doesn't look like the woman he had last seen here. But then he remembers something Brynden had just mentioned and approaches. "Mylady… Marsei?", he guesses politely, bowing.

As she turns around, her hands clasped in front of her, she seems startled, despite having seemed to notice Loryn's entrance into the gardens. It's a dainty thing, her surprise, made up of a barely audible gasp, a delicate apologetic smile, small flutter of shock that dissipates like a vapor as her noble composure settles in. Marsei's eyes appear delicately pink-rimmed. Her black-gowned stature lowers for an instant to return him a formality — he guessed correctly — and she smiles in earnest. Despite her mourning state, the expression is warm and genuine. "I'm afraid I'm not sure who you are… I'm sorry if your name has slipped my mind."

"Ser Loryn Tyrell, Mylady.", he explains, bowing deeply will still proudly stressing the Ser in front of his name. Noticing her state, he tilts his head slightly. "Are you quite alright?"

Laughter is heard as Valora enters the gardens with a fancy goblet filled with fine red wine in hand. The woman is a least tipsy and the laughter appears to be at the expense of a now blushing guard. The man scurries off and Valora huffs turning around to face the others here. "Some men just can't handle even the tiniest bit of teasing…apparently it harms their delicate ego." She sips her wine. "Now who do we have here?" She looks to Loryn. "A Tyrell and…" His eyes drift to Marsei and then widen dramatically. "Sister?" She blinks in surprise. "Marsei dear is that you? I don't think I've had quite enough wine to be seeing things yet…" She glances at the glass skeptically.

"Ser Loryn." Hearing the young man's intonation of Ser, Marsei is sure to include that Ser as if it flows easily and pleasantly from her tongue, as if it had always been in front of his name. "I thought you a Tyrell." It sounds like a compliment. His query causes her to look away and lower her lids, her clasped hands gently shifting in front of her. She seems without words, for a moment. "It is a funny thing, the concept. Alright, I mean. I stand here healthy and well enough to carry on my life while my dear husband cannot." She looks up to Loryn, and the apologetic smile makes another appearance, as if she's wary that she has shared too much, but then turns reassuring for Loryn, should he feel as though he pried. Lady Marsei certainly expresses a lot with a few smiles.

All smiles are wiped off when she sees Valora — only to make room for a bigger one. "Little sister," she steps toward the other lady with open arms.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mylady.", Loryn says softly. He does look relieved at Valora's arrival though - he's never comfortable when women turn on the waterworks. He bows to the new arrival and smiles. "Lady Valora, you look splendid as always. I shall leave you two to your conversation… I was looking for someone else." He bows again and starts his retreat.

Valora pouts at Loryn. "Looking for someone else? But everyone knows I'm the best company the Hightower has to offer these days!" She grins and wraps her sister up in a hug mindful of her wine glass. "Careful sis don't spill the wine. I HAVE started brawls over spilt wine before you know? Oh the look on that mans face! It was highly amusing though I don't think he expected little ol me to be so fierce." She smirks. "Its good to see you though. And you are now my favorite sister since the other one is…well bossy. You would think being Queen would make her relax a little if anything she got more uptight." She looks to Loryn and if he leaves she will give him a sweet smile and blow him a kiss as he goes.

Marsei embraces her younger sister whole-heartedly, though not rambunctiously; it's a warm but ladylike affair with no spilled wine. "My thanks, Ser Loryn," she says amidst the reunion with her sister — in fact, over Valora's shoulder; they're of a similar height — quiet with the gravity of loss. The smile summoned so brightly by her sister is touched by sadness. "It was good meeting you." She steps back to take in the sight of her beautiful sister; the lovely dress, a light contrast to the black Marsei has chosen to fit her mood and the mourning that's expected of her. "It is a difficult job, being Queen of the Realm," she gently reminds Valora to not be so hard on their eldest sister, but looks fondly upon the younger. "It is good to see you too, Valora. You look well."

Valora huffs in disbelief. "Difficult? How is being Queen difficult? Its not like she has to sit in the Iron Throne fixing peoples problems and getting a sore ass….its the King I feel bad for. That throne looks like it would hurt. He definitely needs more pillows for it." She smiles playfully. "Besides our darling sister kicked me out of the city if you recall." Valora pouts and then mimics in dramatic fashion. "By the Seven Valora! Get up off that bed, send those boys away and get packing. I want you out of the city by dawn and if you step a dainty toe back in before you have cleaned up your act you will be sorry!" And now Valora is pouting again. "She is getting stuffy I tell you. No fun at all….but there is good news! I have not gotten a single marriage proposal since I returned home!" She bounces happily now.

Valora's rendition of their sister the queen causes a smile of a different sort in Marsei, amused; it curls in on itself, turning bashful as if laughing at such a thing is naughty. She's not the naughty one, after all, that's Valora. She's been happy to listen to Valora be Valora until the word "marriage"; there, the red-haired Hightower looks down. She runs a hand over her dress and a palm catches uncomfortably on the dark fabric at her ribs. "…perhaps that is good news," she says quietly. It sounds a bit forced, unusually so. "That way … lies only pain." Marsei looks up, tentatively searching, suddenly not certain Valora has even heard the reason she's home.

Valora looks at Marsei and blinks in surprise. "What?! Last I heard you liked the man…did he cheat on you? Hit you? Do I need to spread nasty rumors and humiliate him? I swear Marsei if that man hurt a single hair on your head I'll…" She blinks and looks at the black dress as if for the first time. She downs the rest of her wine and hands the goblet off to a passing servant before trying to wrap Marsei up in a gentle comforting hug. She says nothing as she doesn't know what to say for once, she just offers comfort and hugs for now. "Would you like to join me in my sitting room? I have a really nice cabinet full of booze…we can drink have snacks and gossip about all the fun things going on in Oldtown?" She offers a distraction because actually dealing with the issue isn't Valora's style. Ignore al problems until they go away…or treat them with alcohol.

At first, listening again, Marsei is quietly, politely distraught, patiently reined in. When Valora hugs her, she feels like she could have blow away in the wind if a breeze swept around the Hightower through the garden just then. A gentle sound escapes her that isn't quite a word but expresses sadness all the same. "Yes, little sister, I would like that," she manages in a hushed tone. "I would like to listen to you talk, more than anything, if it's all the same." She is not much of a gossip, herself, but the thought of listening to Valora talk about Oldtown over wine seems lovely, normal; entirely unlike everything that has come to pass for Marsei in recent days.

Valora smiles softly hugging Marsei a moment longer and then stepping back and taking her sisters hand in her own. "Okay I can talk for ages as you well know. And there is so much to tell you! Come lets go." She leads her sister up to where her suite has been set up and into the sitting room. Opening the door she lets Marsei in first and then follows her in shutting the door behind them both.

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