(122-08-05) Selective Perception
Selective Perception
Summary: Finally in Oldtown, Visenya and Lara engage in a conversation about dresses and skilled goldsmiths when they are suddenly joined by Torren. The possibility of a tour of the city is taken into consideration, and there seems to be more interaction going on between the lines. Some intentions may be mistaken, while other subtleties are pointedly ignored.
Date: 05/07/2015 (Date of Play)
Related: None directly.

Northwest Suite - 3 - The Hightower - Battle Island

This is one of the smaller of the Hightower's suites, but it is still grand. It offers a unique view from its large window — from the opening one can overlook the city and see the seven domes and seven towers of the Starry Sept, and the Maidenday Gardens in the middle distance. The window has a wide padded sill large enough for one to sit comfortably and watch the city. The room is decorated to reflect the view, with images of flowers and gardens. Vases of flowers sit on all the tables with beautiful blooms and greenery. In the large sitting room are velvet-cushioned chairs and couches. The dull gray stone flooring is covered with a dark hunter green Myrish carpet trimmed in gold.

On one side of the suite an archway leads into a little dining room, suitable for ten or twelve people, and on the other there is a door leading to a bedroom. In the sleeping chamber a large four poster wooden bed rests in one corner, with a green and gold coverlet and lavish pillows. A matching wardrobe and nightstands are also present in this room. The nightstands boast crystal vases with lily flowers. The wall that leads to the sitting room is equipped with a hearth that heats both rooms should it be needed. In one corner sits a large copper bathtub.

It is a summer day. The weather is warm and drizzling.

Visenya is sitting at the table in the dining room, but instead of eating various correspondences that have been waiting for Torren's arrival in Oldtown are spread out in front of her. There is an accounts book on the table as well as a thick tome specific to Dornish law. Visenya is staring down at a letter with a bit of a befuddled expression on her face. Eventually she just picks it up, and puts it down in the pile that is left for Torren to look over. She lets out a small sigh, and rubs her forehead.

Just the right moment for one of her Dornish ladies-in-waiting to enter, it would seem, to offer some distraction from such tedious books. Indeed, Lara Gargalen looks colorful in her dress of green sand silk as she slips into the room after the appropriate knock and the appropriate pause following. Her black hair falls about her shoulders, and her dark eyes roam the chambers until they have found Visenya and her mien lightens up. "Your highness. Are you alright?" Her gaze drifts from the silver-haired princess to the pile of books, and noting the lack of enthusiasm on her charge's face she cannot help but suggest: "Maybe you should take a break from your tedious paperwork? I can have a bit of wine brought up to us, and a light repast if you like…" The latter more a question than a statement, even though there is no rise in pitch in her tone towards the end.

Visenya looks up at that knock and motions for Lara to come in before she picks up one of the correspondences and squints at it. This one, it seems, is easier than the last. She pulls the accounts book open, and flips through the pages until she finds what she is looking for, and picks up a quill to dip in ink and jots down some numbers. "I'm fine. This is just more difficult than I expected it would be. Prince Torren has asked me to go through his correspondence, and respond to anything that does not actually need his attention." She picks up a piece of fresh parchment from a pile, and begins writing. After a moment of quick but rather attractive and clear writing she says, "There is wine on the sideboard. Water mine. My stomach is a bit off today." And then she finishes up the letter, folds it, and heats yellow wax over a candle before dripping it onto the letter, and finally sealing it with Torren's own seal.

Lara nods, shooting those letters a little enthused glance herself, before she moves over to get the wine. A brow is raised. "Water yours?" She does as told however, and hands Visenya a cup of watered wine. Her own is not watered, and she lifts it in a toast, before she takes a sip from it. "To tedious correspondence," she smiles, watching the princess as she finishes the letter and seals it. "Are you not feeling well, your highness?"

Visenya puts the letter into another pile, all neatly sealed with the Sun and Spear of House Martell, and picks up her wine for a sip. "I'm nervous, and it makes my stomach sour." She admits, and then she takes a sip of the wine. "Torren is out on business near the docks. Since our marriage was part of an alliance he is trying to get better trade going to between Oldtown and Sunspear. At this point most of the Westerosi traders go to the Stepstones instead of Planky Town to take on water and supplies." She makes a little face, "I worry for him whenever he leaves the tower. There are Florents in this city. What if they make another attempt on his life?"

Lara nods, that delightful ease in her manner fading when the princess confesses that she is nervous. "Did he go on his own? He must have taken some guards with him, or at least some retainers?", the Gargalen lady muses thoughtfully. "He is your husband now… which should be discouraging enough for anyone planning an attempt on him. There are many Targaryens here in Oldtown?" Another sip of wine is taken, dark eyes studying Visenya over the rim of her cup. "Shall I send Ser Manfryd after him?", the question offered after a moment of consideration. The expression in her gaze meandering between the wish to be helpful and a tease bordering on a jest. Because, sending the Scorpion would probably lead to escalation rather than relief of the situation.

"No. Of course he did not go out on his own. He is being shown the docks and various other places by the King's Master of Ships." Visenya sighs softly, "He was my husband when they put that viper in that basket, and the basket was gifted to us by a Targaryen." She has a swallow of her wine then, and stands up with the glass to carry it over to the sideboard and put more in her glass to make it stronger. "Perhaps Ser Manfryd is with him, and he can shoot off his stupid mouth, and the assassins will be so aggrieved by his words that they will target him instead of Prince Torren." And then she drinks to that.

"With the King's Master of Ships one would assume nothing will go wrong," Lara Gargalen replies, rolling her eyes ever so slightly at the pompous title. "We are guests, and the guest right is sacred. Anything happening to Prince Torren here will have drastic consequences. Consequences this King's Master must be aware of as well." She exhales, a bit annoyed perhaps by Visenya's nervous mood. "Prince Torren will be on his guard as well, your highness." Dark eyes follow the silver-haired princess as she walks over to fill her goblet with more wine. The derogatory remark about Ser Manfryd elicits an amused chuckle from the Cockatrice. "See, he can have his uses." Still, Lara will not join in on that toast.

Visenya laughs then, but it is without humor. "Clearly, you have no idea what is actually going on." But she doesn't elaborate, and now it is her turn to look annoyed with Lara. But, she manages to keep her mouth shut, and just sips her wine with a testy look on her face. Finally, she settles on "My wardrobe from the Dragon's Door Manse is here. I have some gowns with rubies sewn into them, but they are in the colors of my birth house. I need to decide what to do with them as the gowns will likely no longer suit."

"No, I don't," Lara agrees, taking another sip. "But I don't see how that would help you if I did. Prince Torren is out. You are worried. All we can do is wait for his return." That annoyed look is ignored by the Gargalen, she is actually quite good at that kind of selective perception. When the talk turns to fashion, Visenya can be sure to have all of Lara's attention. "Oooh. Gowns. With rubies… I'd like to see them. Maybe I can come up with some ideas…" The goblet is downed and put down, dark eyes rising to meet the purple stare of the white-haired Targaryen Martell.

Visenya ignores Lara's last bit. She also drains her own glass and sits it down on the sideboard. She walks into the sitting room then and continues onwards until she reaches the door to the bedchambers. It is pulled open, and left that way so Lara can follow. "I have some black diamonds as well. I'm thinking of having them made into jewelry." She opens the door for Lara to see inside, and takes a step back. Visenya has a lot of clothes.

Lara will leave it at that, there is no use to awaken sleeping dragons, right? She follows along in an almost lazy stroll, green sand silk drifting about her form as she walks with the natural confidence she always displays. She will slip through the door where Visenya has left it open, Lara for now content to listen - and to observe. Indeed, the number of gowns does indeed draw a slightly overwhelmed sigh from the Dornishwoman's lips. "Oh my… so many dresses. How can you deal with so much variety…?" The remark about black diamonds is met with a nod. "Jewelry, yes. That sounds reasonable. Are there any goldsmiths here in Oldtown?"

It is about when they are beginning to look at dresses that Torren returns. Clearly he has arrived just in time to enjoy the show. He sees Lara right away, of course, and smiles a little bit, inclining his head politely to her. "Lady Lara," he says, and then looks between the two of them, his eyebrow raising slightly. "If my presence will hinder your talks of dresses, please let me know. I am sure I can find something to occupy my time." This is mostly directed toward Visenya, and there's a bit of teasing in his tone.

"I try not to wear the same thing twice." Visenya says in response to Lara's question. "or at least I try to space it out so no one remembers me wearing it before." She laughs then, "Oldtown is the second biggest city in Westeros, and most assuredly the richest, and you ask if it has Goldsmiths?" She is still laughing when she hears Torren greet Lara, although it fades. "Fashion is a very serious matter, my Prince." She almost says this in a deadpan, but the slight twitch upwards of her lips give her away.

Lara seems to be surprised by Torren's sudden arrival, at least she whirls around, giving her gown that unintentional swing that will cause an intriguing play of the green sand silk shifting about her pleasing physique, her black tresses bouncing about her from the sudden movement. "Prince Torren," she greets back, executing that hint of a bow, with one arm raised across her chest, her golden bangles clinking lightly against each other when she straightens. His remark the Gargalen will leave to Visenya to reply to, after all she is his wife, and they are in the bedroom, her - no, their bedroom. Dark eyes shift to regard Visenya and she raises a brow. "Such a pity, these gowns look astonishing.", Lara intones, as she lets her gaze wander over the dresses, what she can see of them. "I am sorry," she says next, to the topic of goldsmiths. "I meant to ask whether they have any skilled goldsmiths here. It is not a matter of wealth only, but also of style." The mirth of the Targaryen is accepted without objection, after all a laughing dragon is easier to deal with than a grumpy dragon.

"Of course," Torren says in response to Visenya, "I would not dream of suggesting otherwise." He closes the distance between him and his wife then, leaning down for a short kiss, should Visenya accept it. When he straightens again, he continues, turning his head toward Lara, "I would imagine there are quite a few, though I am sure tastes vary in that regard. No doubt my princess can recommend several that might be to your liking."

Visenya's eyes turn towards Lara when she asks if there are any skilled goldsmiths. "Oh, skilled craftsmen? Oh, well, clearly only skilled craftsmen exist in Dorne." After she delivers her sharp little retort to Lara she turns her attention towards Torren, and when he leans down she tips her chin up to return his kiss. When he pulls away, and she catches his gaze again there is a question there, but clearly it can wait for later because she does not verbalize it yet.

"Your wife has still to decide what is to become of them," Lara replies to Torren, in regards to Visenya's dresses, holding his gaze briefly before lowering her eyes. There is a slight twitch of her brows at Visenya's remark about goldsmiths, the sharpness of it noticed, of course. She meets the princess's gaze and shakes her head. "I can only assess as good craftsmanship what I have seen, your highness. I am a stranger in Oldtown. If we were in Sunspear, I would know where to go for such a task, to find someone to make nice jewelry." Her voice is smooth as the sand silk she wears, the tone polite enough. The glance from Princess to Prince is noticed, and so Lara adds, in a soft inquiry: "Do you wish to show me the dresses now, your highness, or shall we do that at a later time? You've expressed much concern earlier, perhaps you wish some words with your husband alone?"

Torren certainly sees the look Visenya gives him, and this time both eyebrows raise, but he also says nothing. At least to that particular look. What he does say is, "I am glad to hear of your concern for my mental health; the Lord of Driftmark is a bit on the long-winded side, and I had some difficulty following his explanations at times." Of course, it is not as if he really thinks Visenya was concerned for that, but his tone is meant to keep things lighter, rather than the alternative.

Visenya seems a little disarmed at Lara's explanation. She dips her head slightly before saying, "Of course. Forgive me, lady Lara. I mistook your intentions." That little concession given she looks back to Torren. "No. I think I am quite alright now." She smiles at Torren, and seems to appreciate his keeping things light, "Did he tell you his story of his voyage to Yi Ti? I used to think it was fascinating. When I was a girl of eight."

The Cockatrice is for now content to be little more than a decoration in the Martell Prince's and Princess's bedroom; it is quite the task really, for one of Lara's disposition, to hold back, keeping her charms in check, and even her tongue! Something tells her that it would be indeed wiser not to comment on any of Torren's words, when she is not directly addressed. And so her lips will only curve slightly upwards, when the prince gives a rather light reply, acknowledging his words, as she inspects the golden bangles about her wrists. Visenya's apology takes the Gargalen by surprise, but she will incline her head nonetheless, accepting it with that gesture alone. Dark eyes linger on the silver-haired princess when she inquires about the Lord of Driftmark.

"I believe he told it to me multiple times," Torren admits with a little bit of a wry chuckle. "I can imagine that it would be intriguing to some." Girls of eight, for example, though perhaps not men of five-and-thirty, and certainly not the second or third time one has heard it in the same visit. His gaze drifts to Lara when she falls quiet, and when he continues, his words are directed toward her. "How are you finding Oldtown, Lady Lara?" he inquires. "For my part, it has been many years since I have been here and it does seem to be very much changed. Of course, I was not quite as tall then." This gets a little bit of a joking smile.

"Yes. He does that." Visenya says of the Lord of Driftmark's habit of telling stories over and over again, "But there is still no better admiral in the Seven Kingdoms." She parts from Torren's side to look into her wardrobe a minute, giving Lara time to answer Torren, before saying to Lara, "We will worry about it later, I think. I actually have a letter that I would like given to Lady Marsei. I would send a servant with it, but…well, I would like to know how she reacts to it being sent." She goes to her vanity to take the letter from on top of it, and offers it to Lara.

"I have not yet ventured outside to explore Oldtown," Lara admits, her eyes lifting to meet the Prince's gaze and there is a slight upturn of her lips, "so all I have seen so far was the road from the city gates to the Battle Island where we are now." She clears her throat, hesitating perhaps if she should speak her mind. "It is a dirty town, by what I've seen so far." There. She said it. His own comment of finding the town very much changed draws a fine smile from her lips. "The change of perspective is not to be underestimated, your highness." A faint sparkle in her dark eyes may attract his attention, but only if Prince Torren is fast enough to catch it. Because Lara's attention is caught by Visenya in the next moment; she will nod to postponing the inspection of the dresses, but there is a slightly nervous twitch at the corners of her lips when she hears the request. "Where will I find Lady Marsei?", she inquires softly, extending her hand to accept the letter the princess hands her.

"That is quite true," Torren replies, certainly willing to give credit where credit is due, especially to one who may hold a very crucial piece of an alliance between Dorne and the Crownlands. At Lara's reply, though, he turns back to her and continues, "It is somewhat, but no doubt that is due to the number of people. There are quite a few places here worth seeing. Should you wish an escort so that you feel more comfortable going out, please do not hesitate to ask." He may note that look that she has; her words, at least, make him let out a quiet laugh, before he falls silent, letting Visenya answer.

Visenya's face scrunches up a bit when Lara says that she thinks Oldtown is dirty, but she lets Torren address Lara, and adds no opinion of her own. Instead she says, "She is Lord Ormund's sister. Her apartments are another floor up. Undoubtedly if you cannot find them any servant will be willing to help you find them. Or she may be in the gardens." That said she places the letter into Lara's hand. "Be nice to her. She's a good person." That said she sits down on the edge of the four poster bed. "Be sure to tell me how she reacts."

"I believe I would feel safer with an escort," Lara Gargalen confesses with a smile. "I am curious. I really am. To see Oldtown, to interact with Northrons…" She shakes her head, amused. "And there are so many of them. I will come back on that offer, your highness," this she says towards Torren. Her hand holds the letter, and she looks at Visenya when she explains where to find Lady Marsei. "I see.", Lara intones, raising a brow at the advice to be nice to Lady Marsei. "And of course!" She nods once again, to the last request, offering that hint of a graceful bow to the both of them, before she moves off, in that pointedly leisurely stroll, green sand silk swirling about her, shooting a glance over her shoulder before she leaves the bedroom - towards whom of the two is hard to tell.

"Very good," Torren replies at Lara's acquiescence of an escort. "We should all take this opportunity to explore Oldtown, as who knows when we may have another chance." And also be seen to be unafraid — or mostly unafraid — when wandering through it, but he doesn't say that. When Lara takes her leave, he nods to her again, watching her as she heads out the door, so the glance is not missed — at whichever of them it is directed.

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