(123-01-03) Leaving Oldtown
Leaving Oldtown
Summary: Manfryd Qorgyle departs Oldtown - and encounters Lara Gargalen on the ship that will take them to Starfall.
Date: 04-07/11/2016 (Date of RP)
Related: Recent logs about the Scorpion and his duel against the Maiden Knight. Happens before Unhappy Departure.
Players:
Lara..Manfryd..

A ship, headed towards Starfall


It was evening already, and a smooth breeze was blowing, sending ripples over the water where the boats were moored at the harbor of Oldtown. One slightly larger ship among them, sailors there preparing for departure, when the raspy voice of the ship’s captain was issuing commands in the brief but so efficient manner appropriate for nautical purposes. Commands that started in the moment the last passengers approached, later than expected, and slowly made their way to board the vessel.

The newcomers are watched from the railing most attentively, by a pair of hazel-brown eyes, peeking out from beneath a hood of a dark cloak, that covers most of the woman beneath it. When the Scorpion is brought on board, Lara steps forward, the hood drifting back, blown about and torn at by a gust of wind, revealing her olive-skinned features and the almost black hair she wears in a braid.

The departure was as hasty as it could be made, with the injuries to the Scorpion not sufficiently healed (gut wounds took a great deal of time afterall). He refused a litter and so a cane-/No!/ He had refused that! A Spear had been found- to be used /as a cane/ with one hand, the other side supported by a shorter man of his retinue - not of dissimilar traits. A cousin perhaps. Their gear and horses had beat them to the ship, indicating indeed, the snail’s pace that it actually took the Qorgyle’s party to arrive. She may have heard already that it was Torren who went to fetch the Scorpion initially to begin the hasty departure.

Hobbling up the gangplank with his weight transferred to the spear with every step and one his loyal men a breath hairs step behind him should he need it, they board the ship without much more fanfare than that. It was painful to watch them and no doubt the ship’s captain had hailed them to haul their arses up so they could catch the evening’s wind and break for the deep waters before the night was fully upon them.

Thus, once on deck, with that favouring lean onto the spear, his eyes come about to the hooded figure revealed abruptly to be that of the Cockatrice. “Lara?” He says by way of surprise, “So you are here. The Prince told me his wife would be on deck, but to forego suspicion, that not all would leave at once.” His eyes dart back toward the city, “Though I am glad you are here.” He pauses as he considers the torch lights glinting the town in a warm glow, “They will think I am running from my guilt.” That has him frown, “But what can a man do when his Prince orders him to go?”

Lara tilts her head to the side, when she notes his surprised glance, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she raises a brow in slightly amused mock reproach. “Do you think I would like to stay behind, in this filthy, cold, awkward shithole of a town?”, she utters with surprising smoothness in her tone, while the appalled glint in her dark eyes seems to underline her being quite fed up with the antics of the people of Oldtown, and maybe Westerosi in general. “Where a Dornish lady does offend if she is not trying to imitate the hushed up so called classy behavior of Oldtown ladies?” A low snort there and an impatient shrug of her shoulders, speaking of a temper she has tried to keep in check over the long duration of her stay. “No. I can’t wait to get home to Dorne, where neither you nor I shall be frowned upon.”

The mention of Prince Torren and his wife make her displeasure dim slightly. “Aye, Princess Visenya is below deck, it is… not intended that her departure is noticed long before we are in a safe distance from this place,” Lara murmurs softly into Manfryd’s ear, leaning forward, one arm slipping about him carefully as she knows he is still in pain. A gentle kiss is breathed against his cheek, her lips curving in a smile when he states he is glad to see her. “Who cares what they think? We shall never return, my Scorpion. I know you are innocent of the crime you’ve been accused of. It is the best really, to leave when you have already caused enough trouble. The longer you stay the sooner more discord will be stirred. Who knows? Those who claimed your guilt already realize they might have been wrong… but to admit as much… Who tells us they will not resort to swaying the public opinion even further against you? A mad mob can hardly be controlled… No. We prefer you to be alive. Prince Torren does.” Her smile grows in warmth as she draws back from him, leaving only her hand on his upper arm. “I do.”

The admonishment the town receives at Lara's words quiets the unease of the Scorpion to the brink that a flicker of a smile traces upon his lips, as his dark gaze lingers over the streets that for nearly six months have imprisoned the Scorpion and the other Dornish to the filth of its streets. He lobs a spit over the side of the boat, in full hearted agreement to the shithole that it was. "Fucking Westerosi anyway… Fuck Oldtown," he narrows his eyes, "I hope it burns and by their own hand." And maybe it would, should the Gods ever see to it. A flash of anger remains under the surface of the Scorpion, his hot blooded natured having rekindled. "They're so far in their own shit they can't distinguish who has the worse smell; them or their pigs."

He had tempered for the duration of his healing stay in the Citadel, but something recent happened to put that fire where it belonged. "Then we speak no more of her," he murmurs in return, turning his face upon Lara as she moves to lean forward, his own free hand sweeping up to cup her cheek into the cradle of his palm - holding her gaze with his. "And you, to so voice your words so loudly, to stand by me-" his fingertip caressed down the shape of her jaw, thumb rushing over her chin below her bottom lip. A lip that soon earns its just rewards as he leans forward to apply a soft flex of his lip against her own, inhaling her scent upon the draw near.

However, at the declaration of never returning, his eyes flicker toward the town, barely a roll of his face in that direction, "I should have liked to see Prince Rhaegor again. Perhaps he will return to Dorne with us." He had hopes, in any case, "The Prince belongs with us," and the fact that he's admitting to that, suggests there was a bond built over these last few weeks and that his hate was not blanketed to anyone bearing the name Targaryen.

His eyes snap back at her when she mentions the discord he has stirred, "I merely reacted as I saw fit at the time. A Bastard should never have been allowed a stance over a Prince." He grunts a bit at the matter of guilt and of a mad mob stirred into a frenzy, sending a searching look inward toward the city, "Such indeed as the one I nearly stirred at the Joust. How unfortunate the dragons stopped it." His hand slips around her waist, tugging her close to him, "But. I leave satisfied. Prince Daevon will suffer now for the injustice we all can see he has committed. He will wrestle with the man he has shown the world he is - one who defends his friends and forgets about the means of justice and honour. One who claims his own word is truth before all else. One who stands for Peace yet seeks otherwise."

His arm tightened to draw her sleek form up against his harder one, despite the pain in his side, chuckling darkly, "I nearly tempted Daevon to kill me last he visited. I saw the anger in his eyes as I told him the truth of what his actions cost him." There was a deepening grin on his face, sneer like, as if a cat playing with a mouse, or in this case, a Scorpion nipping at a Dragon, "So you see Lara, not all Dragon Fire is invincible to the sting of a Scorpion."

The fact that the Scorpion agrees so readily to Lara's verdict of Oldtown draws an amused chuckle from the Cockatrice's lips. "Uptight. And holier-than-thou, they are," she states, her smile dimming then a little. Her face lifts when Lara feels his caress to her cheek, and meeting his gaze she raises a brow. "I stated the obvious. Someone had to tell the Maiden Knight he was wrong. Even though I'm not sure my protest did convince him…" Words trail off when his lip brushes against hers, and Lara seems to be fine with it staying more a promise than an actual kiss, her lips curving beneath his breath. Pulling back a mere inch, she agrees: "Prince Rhaegor shall join us soon, I hope. After all, I doubt his betrothed," Manfryd's cousin Emira, "will be content to stay here as well… when most of us have left."

She falls quiet then, listening to what the Scorpion has to say on Daevon, and the expression on Lara's comely face clearly shows she may not be of the same opinion. She raises her hand, slowly in a languid manner, before she brings it against Manfryd Qorgyle's cheek in a moderate slap - more a reprimanding gesture than an attempt to inflict pain. "Fool of a Scorpion! You've barely escaped your fate, and while we are still in reach of Oldtown," her head turns and she stares at the buildings of the harbour that slowly diminish in size as the ship picks up speed, "you choose to taunt the one who has brought this upon you?" Anger flashes in her gaze, but at first it might not be clear against whom it is directed.

"He is her brother. What do you gain by provoking him any further? This round goes to him, the Maiden Knight.", Lara continues, lowering her gaze as she pulls away from the Qorgyle knight. "We may be lucky if we don't ever see him again."

Manfryd agrees with a settling of his temper, his eyes drawing more thoughtful than seething with that Scorpion rage. His gaze sweeping the sight of the city as the ship lurches from the docks, the last of those aboard have been accounted for and such, the vessel had finally been ready to disembark - the crews working swiftly about them with the ropes and sails, orders being called about them and over their heads. He uses Lara and that spear to keep him steady during the worst of the movements. "You words did help," he offers, "for the Maiden Knight wouldn't have come to see me, nor his man, if my supporters haven't struck at some truth they have acknowledged." And as for Rhaegor, there's a touch of a smile on his lips, "Then I shall await his company once more. I have more to teach the man about us and," he looks toward the spear, "about our weapons. And he, to teach me about his ways."

The slap, his eyes see it coming and he makes no move to convince her otherwise of it and keep it from it's course. It lands and draws an immediate sting to the flesh for its moderation but does not turn his head aside the way a full forced slap would. His eyes do close naturally at the moment of the hit, lazily opening again as he responds quietly, "Taunt? Told him truths he's already heard from others speaking them, who came to speak them to me. And /Daevon/ came to see me, you must remember this." His hand reaches to pull her chin back toward him, so he can see the anger in her eyes, "He decided upon his own actions, as did I."

"You do not see?" He asks her after she speaks of him being Visenya's brother, "We gain one less Dragon in Dorne. One less who would oppress our people. Look how he acted! He acted as if his words were /law!/" He steps forward as she pulls back, "He may have labelled me what he has, but at what cost to him? At what gain to us?" His arm swings to gesture back to the town they are sailing from, "Do you believe the Dornish people will trust a man such as he now that he has proven he is no better than those who condemned our people for the Red Rookery?" He grunts, "If I must bear the crown of shit and the slant of rape, at least I know I will have done so for our people and for their future. None will see it now, but better off if he stays away from Dorne." He mutters, "The peace can still be had, but with one less I say."

"I may have been wrong to defend myself," he glances at Lara, fingers drawing up to his cheek over the lingering sting, "I may have been wrong all along, but only a man knows what he's worth when he is laid low. Allow me this. Spite me if you will for it. But the Gods kept me alive and I have to believe it is to keep our people from losing themselves and becoming like these whoresons."

Lara exhales. "Good," she comments when the Scorpion acknowledges her speaking up in his defense, her lips curling slightly when he speaks of Rhaegor, "I am glad you and he seem to get along." And then anger flashes in her gaze and her hand slaps Manfryd's cheek, when it seems the Scorpion has not learned from his experience; when in fact it has been more his tone, the flash of the former malevolent Scorpion that caused her drastic reaction. "Yes. The Maiden Knight’s actions were his choice to make," Lara replies, her anger dissipating to a degree, at least for a moment, when she feels his hand at her chin, lifting it so she can meet the Scorpion's gaze. "And he was quick to judge a man who so openly opposed anything Targaryen in Oldtown; a man who did in fact seek confrontation; ironic, isn't it, that this confrontation occurred for a thing you did not do!" Her voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm, even though there is little mirth in her hazel eyes; the opposite rather, a glint of fury that she tries to keep at bay.

Even so, her hand is raised, not for a physical assault this time, but instead sliding up Manfryd’s arm and resting there gently as she once again leans into him. "The Maiden Knight did step in for the Dornish in the past…", Lara Gargalen murmurs pensively, pressing her cheek against that of the Qorgyle, glancing over his shoulder towards Oldtown, as the distance between their ship and the city increases. "Before we came to Oldtown. He took the side of the Dornish when they had to face the wrath of the other residents of this city. This is a fact." Pulling back a little to regard Manfryd then, her brows furrow ever so slightly. "I still can't forgive him for tainting your name and your honor with his accusations, and… the way he made you challenge him." She falls silent, listening as he continues, her demeanour thoughtful.

"No!”, the Cockatrice finally says, her dark gaze flickering with sentiment, “you were not wrong to defend yourself! It was a lie, and you had to act as you did. The Maiden Knight was wrong… and as you say he may have realized as much.” Her fingers find his cheek once again, as she studies him with fond but also slightly troubled concern.

“I’d rather none of this had happened.”, the words leave Lara’s lips in a sigh. “And to be honest… I’m not sure this failure of the Maiden Knight will serve Dorne - and whether it will be even acknowledged as such. At all.”

Manfryd pivots away from Lara, not to be disrespectful, but to rest his elbow on the railing of the ship, the other arm still tucked around the spear to help ease his weight from the one side. His head lowers after a given shake, then rises to watch the view of Oldtown become a fleeting twinkle of torchlight and the familiar drone of it's streets fade away and become replaced by the churn of the water as their ship prow skips over the waves.

He listens to her words about the Maiden Knight helping in the past. That seems to surprise him, as the upturn of his gaze sweeps back to Lara and her arm upon his. "I see," he looks back across the midnight waters, blackened by the drop of the sun, with the hint of the moon's illumination scattering upon the waves, "We are what we are. Enemies. I'm afraid nothing now can change that."

Her valiant stance on his innocence earns her a careful look, "Lara. You've done much now. Rest your voice. It is not your battle." He slouches toward the rail again, "I believe," as his chin turns up so his eyes can capture the skies, "the Gods have reason for this all to pass. It is time to change my stars, remember the sun, and serve well. If I have not served Torren well, then I shall pay for it. In debt or in blood." He sighs softly, closing his eyes against the wind of the ocean, the breeze refreshing from the stank of Oldtown.

Her hands draw the cloak closer about her frame as the late evening breeze tears at the garment, and Lara watches Manfryd pull away to lean on the railing. Her own gaze flickering slightly as she catches the Scorpion's glance, and she lifts her head in an attitude of stubborn pride. "That is not for you to decide," she says after a moment, to his remark this not being her battle, in a tone that sounds surprisingly smooth. "But you are right… We shall see what the Seven have in store for you… for all of us. Starfall… I only wish we were already there." A nod is offered to Manfryd Qorgyle, as Lara Gargalen slips away, and vanishes in the direction of the steps that lead below deck.

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