| Three Butterflies |
| Summary: | Three persons gloriously garbed and patterned meet in the butterfly gardens at the Hightower and feel quite, quite at home. They scheme to have their hair done suitably at a later date. |
| Date: | 01/01/2015 |
| Related: | Reference made to this. |
| Players: |
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Dhraegon has been in seclusion since the wedding. It is a fine afternoon and he is out in his Wife's garden, the one he gave her as a betrothal gift. Peri's name was left on his visitor's list and so there is the Prince out amoung the bright wings of hummingbirds and butterflies, peering up at a dragon kite at the end of a string.
Peri is quiet, walking with her little one and carrying a gift. She's quiet as she watches Dhraegon, moving towards him carefully "Uncle Dhraegon." she calls, voice soft. She gets tugged gently to the fountain by the toddler who squeals at the fish.
The fountain in the center of the pathways is an idealized and stylized depiction of the Maiden, but has the look of the Lady Marsei about the lips and jaw. The Prince turns, long hair fanning out as he spins and gives her a big goofy smile. He has the kite string wound round his wrist for safety. He bounds over to give her a hug. "You missed all the parties!" He kneels down after releasing her, "Would you like to feed the fish?"
Peri is quiet "I was unable to come, I was.. ah.. under the weather, I apologize, deeply." she offers, bowing her head. She smiles to hug him, giving the toddler a chance to try to get into the fish pool, which causes her to snag him by the waist band. She smiles, pausing. The wild haired, almond skinned toddler nods, but ends up clinging to Peri's skirt a little. "I hope you don't mind that I brought him. I thought a bit of fresh air would do him some good."
Dhraegon seems pleased enough to see her now and tell her all about it, "there were acrobats and I got pushed down and there was so much whiskey they had to bring us home in carts and there were dragons and I did the kiss like they said to even though it is a very… personal thing to do in front of people and I got knocked over again and there was fire wine and it was like drinking dragon fire and our bones melted and then the acrobats started again and we escaped so they couldn't peel our petals and We are married now and safe!" He beams at the child and produces some flat bread from his voluminous sleeves. "I do not mind and the air is very good up here with the sea breeze and the flowers." He tears off a small piece of the trencher snd explains to the child as if to a playmate and equal, "I make the piece small as they have small tummies." he tosses the little piece in and the fish flash towards it in a swirl of bright fins. Pop! And the piece is gone. He divides up the trencher into three parts and sits on the edge of the pool, hair and silks splayed gracefully out. he offers mother and child each a section of the bread.
Peri takes the bread, for both, sitting on the edge and tearing up the bread to hold it in a flat palm for the toddler. She smiles at Dhraegon "I heard you were harmed, are you alright now?" she asks, seriously "Oof. I brought you a gift, Dhraegon." she offers, holding it up. Inside is a Summer Isle bird carved of wood with some real feathers for the tail. It is bright and vividly colored. "For you and your wife." she smiles, sweetly, the toddler merrily and slowly feeding the fish, murmuring something up to Peri in low Valyrian about being nice like with kitty. She rubs the child's head with her free hand. "Yes, be nice." she offers, watching BIG Dhrae more than Little Dhrae.
Dhraegon shakes his head, "I wasn't harmed! I bounce!" he frowns a bit, "The riot was scary and I… got things in my hair so my beloved Cosmos and I came home and had baths and when the dragons fought we hide where we were safe and missed the panic." his eyes go wide, "Oooo! A gift? You didn't have to!" He takes the bird eagerly enough though and pretends to make it fly about with his hands making "whoosh, whoosh" sounds.
Peri leans to hug Dhraegon, her toddler fully absorbed with food. She quietly leans to watch Dhrae woosh. She laughs "Dhrae, There is a button on the back, press it, and gently pull the wings. They open." She instructs, softly. She folds her legs, settled on the edge of the fountain. "I was wondering if you still needed me as your healer, or if the Hightowers appointed someone ah.. more certified." she offers, hands moving into her lap once the bread crumbs are gone. The toddler moves to run around in the flowers.
The fountain in the center of the pathways is an idealized and stylized depiction of the Maiden, but has the look of the Lady Marsei about the lips and jaw. The Prince is sitting on the edge of the pond, loose white hair and long silks spread out around him like a fan. he has a dragon kite tied to his wrist by the string and is currently making a carved bird with real feathers fly by making it swoosh around in the air, giggling and delighted as a child with his newest wedding gift. When the Essoi woman hugs him he hugs her back with the childlike innocence so characteristic of him. Then he is eagerly pressing the button and pulling out the wings, "This is marvelous! Oh, I do not need a healer. Flox has been guarding the drinks cabinet since the wedding feast!"
Peri is quiet "Ah. Well it is good you are well cared for." She makes an attempt to hide worry on her face. "If you know anyone looking for a healer, please give me a good referral?" she offers, taking a breath and SQUEAKING at her son tackling her, holding him as he hands her a lovely pink bloom. "Oh sweets, don't rip at the flowers, you'll get scolded." she cradles the lil boy's cheek, rubbing his face with her thumbs and watching him run around to play in the flowers after she releases him, holding the flowers "apologies." she offers to Dhrae, holding the blossom quietly.
Her first sight of the Hightower's butterfly garden so endeared it to Lady Joyeuse Hastwyck that she hardly supposed she could love it more — till she heard it said it was a betrothal gift from Prince Dhraegon to Lady Marsei, and her heart, by turns so pragmatic and so susceptible, melted with pleasure at the thought of being so wrapped up in such a beauteous gift from one's betrothed… She has been stealing moments here even more often since then; in fact, she regards a little idyll herein as her particular prize for trotting down all those stairs and back up again upon other errands.
She is this afternoon attired in purely Dornish robes of luminous cherry-red sandsilk, covering her immodestly from her collarbones to her wrists to the tops of her silken slippers; her hair is pinned up high (the heat of the afternoon making it unwelcome against her skin), and eclipsed by a veil of golden lace, folded to lend just shadow enough to her face and her throat. Her strapping young guardsman and perpetually unimpressed serving woman linger at a distance, keeping her in sight, close enough to be called, far enough away that she can fancy herself to be wandering alone in the peace of the gardens with only birds and butterflies and a bobbing kite for company… until she turns a corner, bringing into sight the fountain whose music she has heard for some moments now, and the mountainous prince to whose wrist the kite-string is affixed. Her eyes widen and she gives a glad cry. "Prince Dhraegon! Why, good afternoon… or wouldn't it be truer to say, 'beautiful, beautiful afternoon'?"
Two or three steps bring her near enough to recognize also the tremendously tall Essosi woman whose presence tickles at her memory, but who can't quite be placed — and in lieu of a greeting by name Lady Hastwyck gives her instead a gleaming, friendly smile, hoping it will come to her.
Dhraegon beams at her, "Of course I will." He looks rather concerned about the flower situation, and says to the child, "Please don't do that. It makes the flowers sad." He says to the child's mother, "Some of the plants here are for medicine as well as looks. Best he not eat any flowers." He takes the blossom, but only to tuck it behind her ear. Then he spots Lady Hastwyck, "Joy! We have bread for feeding fish. Do you want to play with my new bird? Thank you for that nice veil you sent us on our wedding night! Oh look! We match!" He holds up a red silk sleeve to compare his gown to that of the Lady Joyeuse's. "Have you met Mistress Peri? She is a midwife and makes excellent tea for when I get sick after drinking." He seems immune to he afternoon heat, which is likely not surprising as his family tree doesn't fork. "It is! It is a lovely afternoon!" he bounds over to try to hug the voluptuous noble woman.
Peri looks at Joy, quietly, standing up to give a quick curtsy before settling back in, she quietly takes a moment to smooth her hair a bit "Good Afternoon, Lady Joyeuse." she offers politely, eyes focusing on the woman for a long moment. "Should I make myself scarce, Uncle?" she asks, a little unsure, sitting still enough that a butterfly lands on it. Her expression and calm posture likely given away that she is entirely used to being mobbed by the butterflies. She smiles "He knows not to eat flowers, I've begun studying them and preparing them for salves. He did not enjoy the mouth full of bitter herbs trying it gave him, uncle." she offers with a chuckle.
"Veil?" the merry widow inquires blankly. She has just enough time to wonder whether the seamstress made a mull of the orders when Prince Dhraegon arrives, all of Prince Dhraegon, and she gathers him into the traditional warm, vanilla-scented hug, so appealingly squishy on her side that it's rather a shame it all appears to be lost on him. When they separate she rests her hands on his arms, smiling up and further up at him fondly. "Oh, you are sweet," she informs him, just as it clicks. "… Oh! Mistress Peri! Didn't we— didn't we meet in the Maidenday Gardens? And you lent me your cloak, and I was to come and inquire into your hair oils," she gasps, turning with the thought to the Essosi woman who has just risen from her curtsy. "A thousand things happened that evening, most of them all at once, and your hair oils went straight out of my head! When I saw you again I knew I knew you but I was trying to place you at the party, not in the gardens… I'm such a silly creature sometimes," she laughs, "and I haven't the brain of a butterfly."
Dhraegon giggles, "That is very clever, Peri! It is important not to eat strange flowers!" He is all vanilla and lavender scented himself, and quite sober from the scent of his breath. "My Honeysuckle says it was meant to be small clothes, but it looked like a veil and I do not think they would be practical for wearing under night clothes." The Prince himself is rather squishy and completely immune to other people's curves, alas. He beams at her beatifically, "Thank you again for your service to us on our wedding night. The fire wine rather muddled us and the safety of My Magnolia's petals were paramount!" he giggles along with lady Joyeuse, "Let us all be butterflies then, for we have the wings of them." he flaps his long bright sleeves to demonstrate his butterfly credentials.
Peri looks down for a moment "It would have been a bit rude to crash a party I was not invited to my lady." she offers in a sheepish tone. Her smile shows "I did not worry, If I'd not heard from you in a few days, I'd of sent you a letter, my lady." she bows her head, politely. She chuckles "I went to tend Prin-" she bursts out in a laugh, apparently at Dhraegon. She covers her mouth, tearing up slightly "Uncle, was it of Myrish lace or silks?" she asks curiously. She looks at Dhraegon, extending her arm - she's bare armed. Long waves of henna and Valyrian glyphs are written along her arm, flowingly, with faint silver colored paint under the brown on her almond skin. "But I've not wings, so I'll have to remain your favorite mermaid, uncle." she pauses biting her lower lip for a moment. Her son seems to have passed out in a patch of sweet scented grass.
Looking again to Prince Dhraegon, Lady Hastwyck's grey-green eyes betray the light of comprehension: "Well, yes, they were smallclothes," she confesses in a murmur just for him, not for the bathhouse mistress she scarcely knows; "brides should have all sorts of new pretty things, don't you think?" Surely a man who calls his bride his honeysuckle and his magnolia, and speaks often of her petals, will agree on that point. "But one wouldn't— I suppose one might wear them instead of nightclothes—" She bites her lip and surrenders the point, remembering perhaps a moment too late that there are certain subjects a lady oughtn't to discuss with persons of the opposite sex, even or especially the husbands of her dear friends. She shrugs and looks again to Mistress Peri and clears her throat and lets out a little laugh.
"You're certainly patterned as gorgeously as a butterfly's wings," she remarks admiringly, fluttering nearer, eyeing the taller woman's arms with interest she doesn't trouble to disguise. "Do you do these yourself, Mistress Peri? I might have rather a fancy for something similar — to be painted to match a favorite gown," she laughs, "for some special occasion…"
Dhraegon says, "But you are already a butterfly Peri and need no extra wings!" Lady Joyeuse gets a look of utter incomprehension regarding her whispering. "The fabric was very soft and fine…" he pads along after Lady Joyeuse, the wings of the dragon kite fluttering in the wind off the sea as it bobs along with."
Peri laughs "It is a good luck blessing a friend drew for me. I do some, but not as fine as Ani does. She's so grand for art. she admits, she blushes at the compliment "I suppose so, Uncle." she doesn't argue but does just smile. She smiles at Dhrae. "I again apologize for not making your wedding, will you forgive me?" she asks, "A woman should have all sorts of delicate soft things, not just a bride, yes?" she asks towards Joy, chuckling.
Now, that is distinctly true. Lady Joy's hand rises unbidden to the veil of lace about her own head and shoulders, secured to the wealth of her dark red hair by pearl-tipped pins faintly gleaming through its folds, and she twitches it into an arrangement subtly more pleasing to her touch. "As many as she can wear," she agrees with Peri in a soft laugh; "and then just a few others put away, in case she's caught unexpectedly in the rain… It was so kind of you to lend me your cloak, when you didn't even know me; I hope my maid didn't keep you waiting long for it." In truth, the cloak and its owner hardly had time to miss one another. "And the party was really rather delicious, I was so pleased not to have missed it… You mustn't let me forget again, that I'm to come to you to speak of hair oils, and perhaps have something pretty drawn on my arms; I could do with a little good luck of my own, I think."
Dhraegon seems happy enough, "Oh yes! Of course you are forgiven! I am just sorry you missed the cakes and the dancing and the wine!" He looks between them happy enough, "Tell me about these hair oils? Whould they help Flox do my hair?"
Peri is quiet "Oh I'd of spoiled it by giving you the gift of Dothraki celebrations." she blinks a bit "hair oil keeps your hair soft and from frizzzing in the humid air." she looks embarrassed. for a moment "You can always call me to you, I do make house calls." She considers a bit, holding her hair up to Dhraegon, the over long curls actually quite relaxed and holding. She grins "A light oil leaves a shine and a light perfume to your hair, making it behave itself for longer. She looks at Joy's hair "Maybe I can prepare you an egg white rinse for it too, the air here strips the moisture from my hair and it needs pampered." she admits.
"Oh, I send my maids down to steal half the eggs in the Hightower's kitchens," laughs Lady Joy naughtily; "in fact, Your Grace," this she says with a wink for Dhraegon, "if some day you call for eggs for your breakfast and there aren't any to be had, as like as not it'll be my fault, and I'll beg your pardon now just in case—! No, what I'm in need of the most is one of those wonderful light Dornish oils to dress my hair with every day in this heat — those powders I mentioned to you, that I've been using since I ran out of my other oil," her lips form a slight red pout, "they've all let me down, again and again… you know I'm practically a Dornishwoman, so my hair thinks it's Dornish hair too." In fact there's no reason why Peri ought to know that, but perhaps she's speaking again to the prince: her gaze flits about much like the butterflies, perhaps borne upon the same unpredictable breeze. "Will you call on me, then, Mistress Peri? Shall we appoint an hour? My chambers are on the fifth floor, the southern suite — if you and Prince Dhraegon are such good friends, you could easily visit him at the same time, we're so near to one another." She looks from her to him, beaming engagingly.
Dhraegon peers at Peri with innocent curiosity, "What do the Dothraki do?" The hair products are of much more interest to him, "Oh! Could we try them? Maybe you could show Flox? I think having my hair combed and braided! It feels nice and is very calming. We could have wine and cakes?"
Peri is quiet now thinking "Two hours if you are having the painting done." she offers with a small smile "They solve problems in an impolite to your sensibilities way, my dear. Oh if I'm to anoint both of you and train Flox, it'll take an afternoon, we might as well make it a proper appointment." She considers Dhraegon "We can do sweets and wine, but, let me bring the wine, for safety's sake. My bottles are still wax sealed from their journey across the narrow sea." she offers, chuckling. She closes her eyes, tilting towards the sun to bask a little.
The prince's suggestion that Mistress Peri should make one visit to them both, instead of two visits to them separately, catches Lady Joy by surprise — but then her smile blossoms into one of its broadest incarnations yet. "Oh, do let's," she exclaims. "If Mistress Peri will undertake to bring wine, and the tools of her trade, and if you, Prince Dhraegon, will come bearing your favorite cakes — for I know you and Flox know more about cakes than any of us — I'll offer my chambers and your remuneration," she nods to the Essosi woman, "and I'll undertake to surprise you both with something else. I don't know what," she states, lowering her chin, gazing quickly from one to the other, "so perhaps it shall surprise me as well; but something."
Dhraegon nods his understanding about the Dothraki, "I don't like yelling, you are right…. As long as there is wine and sweet things, I am interested." The safety's sake part appears to go right over his head. then he is clapping his hands with glee, "Do let's! I think this would be terribly fun."