(122-04-07) Unfit Foundation
Unfit Foundation
Summary: Loryn Tyrell approaches Lady Hellan about her son, Wylliam, and his cousin, Janei.
Date: 07/04/2015
Related: Like Mother, Not Like Son

There's a Tyrell at the door!

A servant leads the man into the large hall of the Weirwood Manse, announcing him to be Ser Loryn. As it happens, there are not many about to hear the announcement; the inhabitants are either busy or out, as has certainly been the case for Lord Carolis. The hall is a bit dark, rather gloomy, even, during the overcast day. One pair of alert ears belongs to Lady Hellan, who nearly turns around and goes back up the stairs from whence she came before a servant fetches her to make sure she's heard, placing her with the grace or misfortunate of welcoming the guest. She walks slowly to meet him, her posture stiff more from demeanour than all else. "Ser Loryn." It's a curt greeting, business-like; not warm, but not ice, either. "If you've come for one of the boys, I suppose can have them hunted down."

Since Loryn has been hanging out with Andolin quite a lot, the Weirwood Manse is fairly familiar to him now, but for now it's not him but his auntie he wishes to see. "Lady Hellan, what a pleasure!", he smiles cheerfully, not put out by her business-like manner at all, "In fact it is you I have come to see, not the boys. Would you have a few moments for me?"

Hellan raises her chin to regard Loryn for a brief calculation, scarcely concealing the fact that she's attempting to determine his purpose. She nods once when she at least seems to have it all figured out. "I would," she allows. Quite promptly, she turns to stroll toward the group of chairs. "Would you like anything? Wine?" Without waiting, she tells the servant off-handedly, "Fetch some wine."

Loryn starts to follow her, quietly agreeing to the suggestion of wine. The woman is easier to bear on a slightly soaked stomach after all. "Very gracious of you.", he comments and sits down rather daintly, making sure to not get his beautiful coat creased, all Tyrell green with hints of gold and red. "Lady Hellan…", he finally begins, "Are you aware that your son has set his sights upon my cousin, the Lady Janei Tyrell?"

Hellan sits on the edge of the seat opposite, but leans back, legs crossed under the stoically drab length of her skirt. Her elbows resting upon the arms of the leatherbound chair paints the impression of bored royalty. She gives a resigned sigh upon realizing the topic is, indeed, what she expected. "Is he still on about that?" She watches idly while the servant, wasting no time, hurries back to lay out a simple tray of cups and wine and begins to pour. "And what have you to say on the matter?"

Loryn's brow quirks when she mentions him 'still' being on about it. "So he has brought the matter up with you?", he realizes, then pauses to wait for the servant's departure, since this is actually quite a sensitive subject. He picks up his cup for sip, before replying: "He told me of his intention to write to Highgarden… and that he hoped for my good word in my uncle's ear on the matter. I'm not sure what to think, Mylady.", he confesses, "Of course an alliance between our houses would be mutually beneficial and indeed a very nice thing, but Janei is only thirteen and very impressionable."

"He desired I speak to you, asking after young Janei," Hellan explains, unenthusiastic. She gives some small, sharp gesture to the servant who immediately interprets it to give the lady her cup of wine directly, even though it looked to be in easy reach. "I thought Wylliam should have more time to dwell, given that he barely knows the girl, and her still young."She sips her wine and, almost as an afterthought, asks, "What does she think? Is she for it, then?"

"I've spoken to her and it seems she is… a little more level-headed about it all than Wylliam.", Loryn confesses after a pause and another sip of wine. "She admitted that she is fond of him but that she is indeeed too young to think of a serious courtship. I told her that I would not mind her spending time with him in order to get to know him, but that a chaperone must be present at any given moment. She promised as much.", he assures her with no small expression of relief. "I believe we are in agreement then, that the matter requires more time?"

Although Hellan's dark brows start to rise when Wylliam is inferred to be less than level-headed, she nods sternly to Loryn's words. "She sounds a wise girl, at least that's heartening," she says, absent any particular optimism, and punctuated by a glance aside and another, longer sip of wine. "I don't think it's time to be writing to Highgarden just yet," she agrees.

"I would appreciate if you could convince your son of that.", Loryn admits and for the first time, actually musters a little smile. It doesn't last long though as he remembers something else. "Janei told me that he told her she reminded him of another girl. Which I believe… is never the best foundation to build something on."

"Gods be good," Hellan mutters like a curse, and just as much like a half-hearted imploring of those gods to transform her son into less of an idiot, given her expressively caustic tone. "While I'm sure it's not the worst thing that they get on as friends, let's not have her spreading that assessment around."

"Very well, Mylady.", Loryn replies, smiling, "I believe we are in agreement then, that they should be free to meet in presence of a chaperone to get to know each other better and to see what the future holds, but that - all things considered, not least her age - nothing should be rushed at present?"

Hellan smiles, and though the expression it's not broad, it's true, reassuring — inasmuch as it can be; she might be a Mormont by blood, but she has a wolf's smile. "We agree," she says, not without a small touch of humour for the rare event. "I wouldn't worry about Wylliam; he'll see the right of it soon enough." She'll make him, more like. "I am glad you came to me before things got too out of hand."

This settled at last, Loryn lets some of his guard down and exhales deeply, grinning. "Frankly, Mylady, I have no idea why he's so eager to seek marriage at his age anyway. I mean, we're the same age but the thought hasn't even crossed my mind yet. There's enough fun to be had after all." He drans his cup and rises to his feet. "But I shall not take any more of your time, Mylady, I trust you are busy."

"I would think you'd be more eager than he should be," Hellan remarks heedlessly. She shakes her head and rises as well, pressing into the arms of the chair subtly in order to do so, all while keeping a firm hold on her cup. "Wylliam just needs a purpose, is all." Quieter, more thoughtfully, with an ominous seriousness, she murmurs, "Perhaps he will have one soon." Her smile now is one part polite, one part dismissive. "Well, then. Be well, Ser Loryn."

"I'm not all that eager.", Loryn replies guilelessly, a little surprised by her sudden ominous murmur, but he lets it go. If she wants to send her her son to the Wall, it's not his problem. Noticing the tone of dismissal, he bows deeply. "Mylady, it's been a pleasure." And off he goes.

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