(121-12-28) Maiden vs Rose Pt. 2
Maiden vs Rose Pt. 2
Summary: Maiden vs Rose Challenge: the Conclusion.
Date: Date of play (28/M12/121)
Related: http://gobmush.wikidot.com/log:121-12-21-maiden-vs-rose

The grounds have been set up with a variety of obstacles and false terrain. Three judges have been appointed: The infamous Prince Dhraegon to represent the Targaryen's, the helpful judge from the last Tourney, and the same elderly jousting enthusiast that was so controversial at the recent tourney to represent the Tyrells. The Tyrell elder is glaring in disapproval at the brightly dressed Prince in red, orange, and black, who has set a small cloth doll in a red Princess dress on his lap and is murmuring quietly to her about the crowds and proceedings. The doll is of the type intended to look like Princess Visenya. The Helpful judge is already looking put upon. Given what he has to deal with from the other two. A small, nondescript middle aged man stands quietly in the back of the judging booth, with an expression very similar to the helpful judges.

The first challenge was a combination of a horse race with jumps and horse archery, with Loryn winning on points. The current challenge is a sort of combat capture the flag game with obstacles and garlands in place of flags. A touch is worth three points, a garland is worth one. When three touches have been scored the knight with the most points wins. Both Ser daevon and Ser Loryn grabbed garlands in the first rush. Ser Daevon grabbed the second, but tossed it away to battle Ser Loryn, whom he has just scored a touch on, though it was too his back as he was darting off for another garland.

Daevon lashes out, lightning fast with the flat of his blade as Loryn darts off, tagging him for the first time, although some might dispute the legality of a hit to a fleeing opponent. "Stand and fight!" Flowers are forgotten as he gives chase.

Loryn gets tagged! He turns and grins. "Alright, I'll fight you over the garland.", he responds, unsheathing his blade to stand for the duel.

Well there's technically two garlands here, one atop the boulder, one on the ground, and Daevon's grinning now that Loryn stops fleeing, eyes glittering with joy.

Norah is settled in the nobility section eatting bread and cheese with quiet delicate nibbles. She's sitting with other Westerlanders.

Dhraegon is holding up his doll so she might see better and making the doll cheer for Ser Daevon in a high squeaky voice. The Elder Tyrell is out of his seat, "Stab the coward, ser Laurent! Ser Loryn, I mean! Get him!"

Loryn chuckles, but doesn't seem to mind the challenge and launches into the fight quite eagerly. Swords clash, but both are on masterful defenses and so not much is really gained on either side.

Daevon moves like the wind, impossible to hit, yet his own attempt to retaliate, and a cunning move from Loryn, sends his sword flying from his hand. Daevon leaps up, to snatch his blade from the air, to spin around and prepare for the next attack.

This time Loryn isn't paying much attention to the attack and his defense virtually non-existant. "Well, get them then.", he smirks, gesturing almost invitingly to the garland dangling above them on the boulder.

Daevon leaps aside from the blow directed at him, and as he lands on his feet his sword lashes out scoring his second touch against Loryn. "You were hardly trying there. Focus, concentrate. You're better than this. You want the flowers, take them." It's a challenge.

The helpful judge says, "One more touch to end it."

The first challenge was a combination of a horse race with jumps and horse archery, with Loryn winning on points. The current challenge is a sort of combat capture the flag game with obstacles and garlands in place of flags. A touch is worth three points, a garland is worth one. When three touches have been scored the knight with the most points wins. Both Ser Daevon and Ser Loryn grabbed garlands in the first rush. Ser Daevon grabbed the second, but tossed it away to battle Ser Loryn, whom he has just scored a second touch on.'

Loryn attacks again with a little shrug, not caring very much either way it seems, but willing to put on a little show for the audience.

The helpful Judge stands and drops the flag. "Third touch ends it. Victory in the Melee goes to Ser Daevon, eight to four. And now for the final challenge: the test of knowledge!" Prince Dhraegon stands up, the soft skinned giant saying, "Wouldn't a dance off be more fun? Is there a minstal in the house?" The elder Tyrell stands up, sputtering, "That is utterly undignified!" The helpful judge turns to the crowd, "Would you rather see them dance or display their knowledge?"

Daevon's growing increasingly frustrated by Loryn's response. With two touches, he's fighting defensively now. "Why aren't you trying?" he asks, but just as he asks those words Loryn's sword slips through his defence and scores against him. And now he's angry, those amethyst eyes burning, and when the judge calls out that the third touch ends it he's scowling. He's about to turn around about that not being the way rules work, when he thinks better of it. And his expression's like thunder, with all the fun of this gone when there's two suggestions made for a final and neither of them's appealing to him. It looks like fun's the last thing on the dragon's mind and he's holding that sword awfully dangerously.

Andolin winces as the last touch is called, and then that last proposition is called and the Stark's brows raise high. He gives Loryn's horse - who he's still holding - a pat on the nose, and he's eyeing Daevon's tension with a lot of apprehension.

"Come on, this is meant to be fun!", Loryn replies good-naturedly, "We don't want to hurt each other… do we?", he wonders briefly, seeing the scowl on the Targaryen's face. As the suggestion is made to replace the test of knowledge with dancing, he laughs again though. "Oh, that sounds splendid!", he calls out and does something vaguely resembling a twirl in armour.

Norah is watching curiously, chatting with the other young ladies and pausing when a messenger hands her a letter, rather quietly opening it to read, just smiling and tucking it into a pocket to continue watching with an anxious curious look on her face.

Daevon looks just like he might want to keep fighting regardless of how things have been called. He's got a tendency to burn icy cold as opposed to fire-hot and his eyes continue to burn through Loryn. Hurting Loryn seems a very real possibility until something of those words crack through. He exhaled. Fun? He considers it as if it's an alien concept, forces a smile, then nods in agreement at whatever's been said. He's not really listening, not having a clue what he's agreed to, and someone should probably take that sword from him before things get bad. Sword. No, he scheathes it, reluctantly. "Fun." He echoes that word and it seems like there'll be no stabbings after all.

Iris leaves Oldtown proper through the Tourney Gate in the city walls.

The first challenge was a combination of a horse race with jumps and horse archery, with Loryn winning on points. Ser Daevon decisively won the melee. Now they are deciding trivia contest or dance off.

The Judges eye each other. The helpful judge holds up his hands, "If the combatants both agree to dance and the Whimsey players will provide music, we will need two volunteers from the audience to partner our knights."'

Loryn grins and nods to the Whimsy players to go and play music, then he looks around. His eyes briefly rest on Andolin, still decorated with his flowery garlands, then move on to the stands where the ladies sit. Finally they alight on Iris and his face brightens. Hoping to catch her attention so he can wave at her to come and join him for the dance.

Norah gets a little sheepish at the idea, not taking the gentle pushing of the other ladies and getting rather red across the face "Please don't do that." she mumbles ending up standing up a little awkwardly, before sitting down again properly.

Dancing? Daevon opens his mouth to protest and then closes it again since the alternative is something he's even worse at. "Riddles or dancing?" he shakes his head at Loryn. Glancing around to see who'll volunteer he notices his sister is now, suddenly absent. Just as well really. He exhales. "This is fun. How do they even judge who is better?" And for someone so graceful moments earlier with a blade in his hand he's looking decidedly awkward now. "I suppose it is a Knightly thing, all those courtly manners with dancing being the pinnacle of all that." His gaze flicks after Loryn to Andolin, then back, back and forth between them a moment, as if he's thinking, and then he shakes his head and glances away. If he doesn't have a partner they can't make him dance, can they?

Of course! Iris catches that wave of Loryn, how could she not? When her deep blue eyes have been glued on him so far in the contest. The Whimsy catress and barmaid of the Quill and Tankard does not need much encouragement to make her way over to the knight, a bright smile curling her lips. Her hips swaying with a certain confidence, she clad in unobtrusive but nonetheless comely commoner attire that brings her shapely physique to the attention. Her dark brown hair is worn in a braid. "Ser Loryn," she greets, lowering her gaze in some fake shyness. "Mind if I volunteer?"

Faelyn arrives on the tourney grounds late. The normally armored princess is wearing a gown of black and purple that highlights her pale skin in hair in a flattering fashion. She wanders through the crowd and pauses to watch the dancing. She spots Daevon and offers him a warm little smile tilting her head at his reaction to having to dance. She considers the dancers with a thoughtful and almost wistful gaze but stays a short distance away so she might watch without being in the way.

Andolin looks a bit baffled by the notion of a dance-off, and at the glance from Loryn he just looks a little amused somehow, feeding both the horses he's babysitting a bit of carrot to keep them distracted.

Daevon breathes a sigh of relief as Faelyn arrives, flashing her a smile, perhaps a little too bright. "Faelyn." He calls out in greeting. "Do you know how to dance?" That's hopeful. "Would you care to?"

The musicians start tuning their instruments to each other.

Loryn smirks at Daevon, "It's as knightly as jousting and swordplay, yes, Ser Daevon", he points out, "Besides, it's fun!" There's that odious word again, fun. "Doesn't matter if we look awkward, just shake your backside a bit in tune to the music.", he advises, then turns to focus on Iris when she joins him. "Hey, we can do this, right? Hardly different from being on stage." He offers her a hand and waits for the thing to get going.

"I do not just…." Daevon attempts serious, he attempts to repeat Loryn's instructions, and then shakes his head and bursts out laughing. "I'm not taking dancing lessons from you." There, no need to repeat those words.

"Shaking the backside a bit?", Iris quips towards Loryn when she overhears his remark to Daevon. "There is surely more to this, Ser!" The grin she has for the Tyrell is certainly a bit daring, as she launches into the dance, her hand resting on his when he offers it to her, but not relying on him to lead her through the steps… It soon becomes obvious that it is rather her, who enhances his sort of minimalistic movements with the dramatic whirls and turns that will draw the eye.

Faelyn blinks a little at Daevon and smiles softly stepping over a bit closer. "Daevon…its good to see you. Yes I can dance…a little anyways. I prefer a dance involving blades but I can manage the other kind well enough." She extends a hand to Daevon and smiles shyly. "I will certainly make the attempt for my favorite cousin."

"At least you're having fun now!" Loryn seems quite satisfied with Daevon's reaction when the knight finally laughs, then goes into the dance with Iris… who clearly and easily outdoes him in the whirling and shaking.

The musicians settle on a tune and wait for the couples to form a square Without another foursome, for the changes, the dancers will have to improvise a bit. Once they are ready, they launch into a lively Gallard on the grounds that all the high leaps and kicks will show off the athletic young dancers to best advantage.

Quillian leaves Oldtown proper through the Tourney Gate in the city walls.

Daevon blushes, notably as Iris repeats those words. Right. He looks at Faelyn, smiles. "Me too." He admits. "But we've already done the swords and now it's the dancing without them." He manages to move to the music, there's certainly no shaking of anything though, no leaps, or kicks at least not yet, just stiff moving the forms to start with.

Norah moves to stand up at Iris' public appearance, quietly starting down from the stands, approaching Andolin quietly. Not to dance it looks like. She covers her hair with a kerchief, tilting to attempt to whisper to Andolin quietly. Politely, her head bowing as she backs away, starting towards Champions' way, her hands nervously fidgeting with rings, eyes mostly closing.

For all his big talk, Loryn's dancing isn't all that much either. Though perhaps he's getting way too distracted by his partner's performance, so he's only just able to remember the steps without getting his feet in a knot.

Andolin seems so at home with taking care of the horses that he's a good deal more comfortable than he would be in the stands, and he's scarcely paying attention to anything but the dance in the ring and the animals. Thus, he's a bit surprised by Norah's approach, and even more so by the whisper; his brows furrow, questioning, but he only offers her an, "Alright," in a low murmur, watching her head out without stopping her.

Distracted by her performance? Iris raises a brow, a slightly amused smile curling her lips when she notices the Tyrell is not fully paying attention to the steps. Soon murmuring little hints as to what his next move will be in the dance. "Now you're supposed to lift me, ser… Wait hang on. Now. That wasn't so bad was it? Now… whirl me around, if ye please…?" The barmaid turned actress will then fall silent for a moment. Until she utters a question. "How about that play you are writing for me, ser? Is it already finished?", she inquires in a casual tone. "And… ah yes. Haven't seen ye in awhile at the Quill and Tankard, ser? Already getting tired of me?"

Seeing the Dancers are warming up, the musicians pick up speed.

Faelyn offers Daevon a reassuring smile and allow him to lead her into the dance. She is fairly graceful but she doesn't try any daring moves or leaps or kicks. She does manage to avoid stepping on her partners toes and her movements are more relaxed if a bit rusty. "So I missed the fighting? I had hoped to get here in time…" She looks a little disappointed. "So who won? And will you spar with me sometime? If I am to beat Ser Malcolm I need to practice more…I swear everytime I face him I wind up with bruises on places I didn't know existed…its fun." She smiles looking far happier about such a thing than the average woman would.

"I haven't seen YOU for a while.", Loryn points out, although not without a blush for some reason, "We do need to discuss the play soon, I have - oh, dammit, FOCUS!", he snaps when he gets the steps wrong again and grunts "We talk later…" He's glad for a little break until the next round of the dancing it called, in which he steps up against Daevon. "Care to dance with me, Ser?", he teases good-naturedly and - without the distraction of female booty - gets his steps not only right this time, but follows through them fairly elegantly.

A few more couples start forming up foursomes to take advantage of the music.

Quillian stands off with some other Oakheart men, dressed in greens and greys. Apparently the Blackrood missed the combat as the amused look on his face shows. "Dancing?" a snort "Unsurprising."

Daevon picks up his speed along with the music. He can almost remember how this goes. He is stealing looks at Iris through the corner of his eyes, seeing what's expected of this kind of dance. "There wasn't much fighting." He admits. "It was more… or less like this dance I suppose. Of course I will." He spins and finds himself face to face with Loryn suddenly and he shakes his head at the question. He mirrors Loryn's dancing steps though, adding a leap and a flourish of his own.

Whereas Iris finds herself face to face with Faelyn. The dark-haired commoner wench against a Targaryen silver-haired noble lady. The dance is Iris' arena, and she feels little intimidated by the high-born competition. She'll continue to perform her whirls and turns with the natural confidence of someone who is used to perform onstage. A bow towards Faelyn will conclude this part of the dancing competition, as a wink is tossed towards the crowd.

Norah passes Quillian, nearly running into him. She pauses, tilting and giving a quick curtsy politely "Excuse me ser, I apologize for nearly running into you." she offers humbly, trying to get around Quillian and head for Champions' way.

Loryn arches a brow when he hears Daevon's complaint about the lack of fighting. "Surely you didn't hope to draw blood?", he wonders while they dance face to face, "This has all been a friendly competition … if you wish to see Tyrell blood, perhaps you'd need to declare war on the Reach…", he jokes. Surely, this is a joke. He hopes it will be taken as a joke, too.

Quillian blinks as the Plumm nigh runs into him. to the tilt and curtsey, Quill merely nods- a bit distracted as he looks to his cousin's…. dancing. "Hm? right."

Norah leaves! For whatever reason. Abruptly retreating past Quillian.

Other couples circle, four hands up like a pavillion, then separate, the men lifting the women into leaps, then doing high kicks at each other to show off their legs. The Galliard is to figure daces what peacocks are to birds. Couples shift partners, twirl and leap and recombine.

"It's not about the blood," Daevon says. "It's about two people fighting to the best of their abilities until one triumphs over the other. But you didn't even care, did you? You weren't trying and yet you still managed to score a hit on me. I just wanted to fight. To hear the swords sing, it's like nothing else. It's certainly not dancing." He leaps up into the air, miming a sword-strike, dancing around Loryn as if he'd a blade in his hands. He kicks out, again those kicks not connecting. It's all rather violent really but he has his blows judged so none of them land.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter.", Loryn trots out that hoary old chestnut with a grin, "I don't see the point in trying to hurt people I am quite fond of." He does another rather exaggerated twirl, then returns to wherever Iris is for one final round of dancing.

The martial style of the Maiden Knight's dance catches the attention of Iris and has her raise a brow. But instead of commenting on it she'll do a light imitation, echoing a leap albeit a touch more 'maiden'-like than the Targaryen knight, whilst shooting Faelyn a glance as if the other woman were a dragon, and she the knight to defeat it. Or to bring it under her control, Targaryen style. Before Loryn's remark disrupts her charade, and she cannot help but giggle. "True, Ser Loryn." Meeting his gaze just in time as he returns to her.

The musicians really give it everything for the final figure.

Andolin eyes the dancing and just shakes his head, muttering a low, "Remind me to never agree to one of these things in this town," to Loryn's horse, and he gets an equine snort in reply.

Daevon laughs at this. "I love fighting." He admits. More so than he loves dancing it would seem. He watches Iris. "I think we're both being bested here and oh so very easily. And how can either of us ever be considered the winner of this, when it's others skills who shine far brighter than our own."

"Fighting has its merits.", Loryn agrees with Daevon, "So does dancing…" And for some bizarre reason known only to himself, he abandons all the pre-dictated steps of the given tune to do some improvisation with wild hand movements and twists of his whole body. Whatever the Tyrell has been smoking seems to be good stuff - even if it has nothing to do with the dance he should be doing.

Daevon's not been smoking the same stuff as Loryn, he looks at him doing his thing, shaking his butt and all that and decides well to just continue on with the whole spinning and kicking and leaping thing.

The Tyrell's antics have the crowd puzzled. They start chanting "Daevon! Daevon!"

Her blue eyes widen, when Iris is somewhat baffled by Loryn's rather unorthodox experiment in the usually so traditional confines of the dance. "Um… impressive," she mutters, hiding a smile behind a swiftly raised hand, while she attempts to save the situation with a number of those 'traditional' turns.

Andolin blinks a lot at Loryn's antics, and just sort've stifles a little laugh, shaking his head. It's a fond sort of amusement, though.

The set comes to an end with a flourish. The judges heads are together, both the Elder Tyrell and Dhraegon's Princess doll gesticulating wildly. The Elder Tyrell can be heard to shout, "This is a travesty! I will not be spoken to like that by a Dolly!" The Clown Prince stares at the elder Tyrell with alarmed lavender eyes and turns to his Doll, "White lotus! Apologize! That was not Ladylike!" The Helpful Judge looks like he has a major headache. The crowd keeps chanting for Daevon. Eventually the Helpful judge restores order to the judges stand.

Loryn sighs a bit when the crowd shows itself unenthusiastic about his efforts. "Always easier to follow the well-trodden path than to break new ground, even in dancing.", he mutters at Iris when the music ends and he turns to eye the shouting among the judges warily.

Daevon throws a few more mimed punches and kicks at Loryn. Are they finished yet with this dancing? Can he stop?

The Three Judges stand. Prince Dhraegon is holding the two unclaimed garlands, which he offers to Iris with a flourish as the best dancer of the Lot. The elder Tyrell is muttering angrily about "Young Folk these days are making a mockery of all our traditions." The helpful judge steps forward to hold up Ser Daevon's hand, "Ser Daevon is the Victor, two contests out of three!"

Loryn claps for Iris when she receives the garlands and rewards her with a hug and a peck to the cheek. Then the winner is announced and he claps again, offering a hug to Daevon as well, though not a peck.

Daevon's hand is thrust into the air, and he looks over at Loryn to gauge his reaction. Rather than accept the hug he grabs Loryn's hand, and raises it into the air as well. There. Everybody's a winner.

Loryn doesn't mind his own arm being lifted, so he gets some share of the applause and cheering as well, but he wants to hug it out, dammit.

Hand-holding yes, hugging, no. Wait… no hand-holding either for once the regulation arms in the air thing is done Daevon lets go. "Let's give out some of these garlands, shall we?" And off he goes to collect his flowers and distribute them to the spectators.

Dhraegon steps away from Iris and folds back to the edges of the field. Elder Tyrell stomps off angrily. Helpful Judge's expression is mild as he whips up the crowd for more cheering.

Loryn sighs a little at the decidedly un-huggy Targaryen but let Daevon go to distribute his garlands. He had left his earlier with Andolin and so it's a good moment to return to him and … Sparkletail. "Well, that went… not so well.", he confesses with a lopsided grin, "Thanks for taking care of the horses and all for the day."

Andolin grins as Loryn comes back over to him, reaching over to clasp a hand on Loryn's shoulder. "It gave me a good seat to watch it all," he laughs. "And you did well. Especially on the horse-riding bit, and you would have had the dance if you didn't get creative," he teases.

Loryn shrugs at that, half-amused, half-sullen. "THought they might reward creativity… obviously I was wrong. I'll go and say goodbye to some, then we can take the horses home and I think I could use a bath and a good meal." He returns to the stands once more to distribute hugs and kisses to those who want them and an invitation to have some drinks at Garden Isle later. Then he makes his way home.

Is it any wonder that the un-huggy Maiden Knight is all on his own, without a proper entourage? He casts a brief look over at Loryn and Andolin and Sparklemane then sets about the business at hand. Daevon hands out the flowers to the spectators, speaking kindly to his various fans.

Andolin gives an easy nod to that, and sets himself to getting the horses ready to go.

Dhraegon attempts to escape without his guards, making a rare bid for freedom.

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