(123-07-12) To Write A Letter
To Write A Letter
Summary: Vynesa comes to cheer Visenya up in the middle of the night
Date: Date of play (14/07/2016)
Related: Related Logs http://gobmush.wikidot.com/log:123-07-12-three-names
Players:
Visenya..Vynesa..

Late this summer evening, where revellers still revel, but the majority of the more staid, responsible or at least more tired types are just starting to drift off to sleep before the inevitable early sunrise is heralded with a telltale glow in the east. Vynesa is not a party animal. Thus it is that when called to Visenya's chambers, she's rubbing sleep from her eyes and has managed to throw on her robes inside out. Nonetheless, it seeming urgent, it's barely been a minute between the summons and the entrance of soft, slippered feet and a soft, concerned, "Visenya?"

Visenya is dressed in a pale pink wrapper for bed, and she is also bare faced and her silvery hair brushed as if she were about to climb in before bed. She is curled up on the bed with a pillow held tightly to her chest, and it sounds like she's crying. She tries to stifle her cries when she hears Vynesa's voice, and once she manages to do so she sits up and says in a voice still husky from tears, "You don't think serving me is preventing you from having a life, do you?"

Vynesa's dismay is clear to see, and she hurries forward to sit on the edge of the bed, both arms going out to her employer. "Oh no! Visenya, no! You've.. well, you've given me a life here." She gestures the other woman in, pillow and all. "Why would you think that? You've done so much for me, for everyone."

"Lady Ynys is leaving." Visenya blurts out, and it sounds as if she may cry again. "She said she has no life here, and…" She swipes a hand across her eyes, "And I told my brother he ought to stay here with Aliandra and me, and he's leaving, and…" Her voice cracks, "Why does everyone always leave?"

"I'm here. I'll always be here," Vynesa insists, with the earnest belief of the young, reaching for Visenya's hand. "Lady Ynys is… I don't know. Does she have a family? And your brother will come back, won't he? I mean, it's not as though you'll never see him again!"

Visenya puts her hand in Vynesa's, and squeezes it lightly. "She's widowed, but she has children in the North. And her family in Dorne." She stares into Vynesa's face a moment before she finally says, "You know he left when we were young. I'm glad he did because I don't think I'd want to be married to him or any of my brothers-" Normal for her, but undoubtably bizarre for anyone not a Targaryen, "But it still hurts when he leaves."

"Oh, Visenya," is all Vynesa can say, her miserable expression mirroring the Targaryen's exactly. "Where is he going? Maybe… we could take a trip..?"

"Braavos." Visenya says in a sad little whisper before she adds, "I can't leave Prince Torren's side. I'm his wife. Especially not to chase my horrible twin half across the world." She scoots over on the bed then so Vynesa can get in. "Tell me something not sad."

Sliding her slippers from her feet, Vynesa slips in beside her, knees drawing up to her chest in kind. "Something… oh… well… Lady Hastwyck's wedding, wasn't it wonderful? Didn't she look beautiful? And so colourful!"

"It was certainly colorful." Visenya says, but she says nothing more regarding the marriage of the Florent born woman to her husband's uncle. Instead she says, "Lord Carolis Stark is here. I kissed him once. Before I married. He's handsomer now than then." She adds in, "You ought to be introduced. I cannot kiss him again, but…" She manages a teasing look for Vynesa.

Vynesa has the grace to look both horrified and secretly intrigued by this. "Oh! I… I think I met his sword… man..? Is that what you call them? Ser Malcolm? What does Lord Carolis look like? Is he very handsome? I mean, I couldn't… just… I'm just interested, is all."

This proves to be a distraction worthy of drying up tears. Visenya wipes at her eyes one last time, and while her amethyst colored eyes remained rimmed with red no new tears fall. "Str Malcolm follows my brother about at times. He's terrified of me, and I don't know why." She drapes her wrist over her forehead, "He is tall, of a hight with Prince Torren I think. His hair is brown, and he has these beautiful steel blue eyes. And his smiles are radiant, and he has good straight teeth."

"You make him sound like a horse!" Vynesa accuses fondly, giving Visenya a little nudge in the ribs with her elbow. "His teeth! Does he have nice shoulders? I like nice shoulders to look at… and…" there's a slight pause as she nibbles her lip, "…does he kiss well?"

Visenya laughs at that nudge before she returns in jest, "Well, who wants a horse or a man with bad teeth?" She nods, "Mmmhmm. And he kisses sweetly. The other Dornishmen besides Prince Torren who I've kissed are all fire and fierceness. They don't appreciate being sweet."

Vynesa leans back against the pillows, considering this all for a few long, silent moments, before asking tentatively, "Do you think..?" But the question is no more forthcoming than that, once again her lip getting the nervous treatment. "I had a letter from my cousin. Out of the blue."

"I think he might be fun to flirt with while he's still here." Visenya says after that tentative little question, but she says no more on it. Instead she turns on her side to watch Vynesa as she speaks, "Oh?" She asks invitingly.

Vynesa exhales heavily. "My cousin, Loron. He's… enthusiastic about things. He's heard about… about my husband. And now he's going looking for him" She holds up a hand to stall any interruption "I sent a message back as quick as I could to tell him not to, but… well, he's insisting. And he says he's going to hunt him down unless I go and talk to him personally. But I'm not leaving you!" she insists fiercely. "Not now, not ever."

Visenya's brow raises ever so slightly. "Talk to who? Your husband or Ser Loron?" She looks concerned a moment before she says, "You know you have Prince Torren's protection as well as my own. If your cousin insists in meddling in your affairs he will have to deal with him."

"I think he's trying to help," Vynesa insists loyally, "but… he'll just draw attention to it all, and I…" she falters, licks her lips, and steels herself a little further upright. "It's not his place. I don't want everyone in the world staring at us. Do you think Prince Torren might convince Loron to leave Hathor alone?"

"No, I can see why you wouldn't want him involved." Visenya says before she adds, "I heard he caused a fuss with Lady Fowler in the brothel of all places, and got into a fight with one of her lovers." She sighs before she nods, "Yes. But I'd like you to speak to him first. Reassure him that you are well, and you don't like the attention he is drawing to the whole thing. Tell him its embarrassing to have your marital affairs dragged out in public."

Vynesa gives another huge sigh, enough to ruffle the lacy edge of the bedclothes. "I sent him a letter already, asking him not to, but he says he won't be convinced unless I speak to him, to Loron," she clarifies, "in person. He says it's a slight against the family, and I have to persuade him otherwise. Why can't men just… well… why can't they be more sensible?"

"Oh right." Visenya says with a roll of her eyes, "He doesn't care about you being hurt. He just cares how it makes the Manwoodys look." She sits up in bed, and turns to light a candle with a flint and steel piece next to it. "I think I ought to write him. Go get the writing desk. It's over on the table. I will find the wine." She gets up out of bed then, and finds two goblets along with a carafe.

If Vynesa is slow to respond, it's not through disobedience but worry. Nonetheless, she does pad over to the table to collect the desk, after just a moment's hesitation, gathering pens and ink to ensure it's fully stocked, and a stick of red wax for sealing. "What are you going to write?" she asks, concerned. "He's… not always very reasonable."

Visenya pours out two glasses of wine, and holds one out for Vynesa before she gets back onto the bed and sits down cross-legged in front of the writing desk. "Oh, we're writing a letter, and then maybe we'll give it to Prince Torren to read and then sign if he likes it." She has a decent swallow from her wine glass before she picks up the quill, and dips it in ink, "Ser Loron Manwoody…." She starts out, reading outloud as she writes, "Your cousin has brought your concerns to me. While I find it admirable when a man takes an interest in protecting his kinswomen, and I am sure your heart is in the right place, I question your methods." She looks to Vynesa for approval.

Vynesa's response is to take a rather larger gulp from her wine, which is followed by a little shudder as she swallows. She wipes her lip, nodding slowly. "I do appreciate that he's worried. I do. But you have to press on him that he shouldn't do anything," she pleads, nibbling at her lip for a moment, then deciding the best thing is another gulp of wine. "Just… can't he leave it alone!?"

"I know, darling." Visenya says soothingly, "You have to butter up men like this." She dips the quill in ink again before she continues, "Lady Vynesa has been in my wife's service for a year." She writes as she scratches, "The Lady has been married since she was four and ten. You have denied your cousin's request that you leave this alone, despite her feelings on the matter, and have decided instead that family honor dictates you expose the indignities she's suffered to everyone. I find this curious. Lady Vynesa is now under our protection. She is safe by our doing, not your families, as your family ignored what has happening all this time. I also find it interesting that you ignore the victim, a young gir…" She looks up at Vynesa before suddenly she crumples the sheet, "Forget that beginning. That bastard cares nothing for you, does he?"

Vynesa's lips form a perfect O, gaze fixed on the paper as it's crumpled. "I… no… I think… wait, which b- bastard?" she clarifies, knocking back another slug of her wine. The glass is very rapidly emptying. She'll regret this in the morning, no doubt. "Loron? We… well, we sort of knew each other when we were young. He's older, but… I don't think he's… oh I don't know!"

"Ser Loron." Visenya clarifies as she tosses the crumpled page to the floor. She looks at Vynesa then before she says, "…Think about it. He said that family honor dictates he go after your husband. Where was family honor when you were with that beast, Vynesa?" She presses her lips into a thin line before shaking her head. "He waits until you are safe from him, and then he does this. It's an empty gesture meant to cast him as a hero while no one will think anything of you save that you are that girl who was married to that awful Uller."

"But if he'd done it a year ago it would have been just as bad," Vynesa argues after a beat, a beat in which she eyes the rest of her wine, deciding if she's yet acquired the taste. "In public. In front of everyone. At least now people don't know who I am. I'm just a girl by your side. I like it that way."

"True." Visenya says, "But at least then we could say his motives were pure? But now?" She shakes her head before finally she says, "I will speak to him." She dips her quill again and writes, "Ser Loron, I invite you to come to Starfall to discuss the matter you have raised with my lady-in-waiting." She then signs it 'Visenya Nymeros Martell' before sprinkling sand over the page.

"He'll come here?" Vynesa asks, eyes widening again. That'll be the end of that glass of wine, then. "What will people think? Will they know? If he's been making a fuss, then the rumours will already be spreading, and they'll think he's come here to… oh… Do you think he'll listen to sense?"

"No one will know why he's attending court." Visenya reassures easily, "He is a heir to a house. There could be numerous reasons why he's here. And those rumors have nothing to do with you." She takes a swallow from her goblet, "I don't know. But I can't put what I need to say to him in writing."

"You could draw a little picture of a man in a cage, not doing anything," Vynesa suggests with a weak smile, sitting herself back down on the edge of the bed. "He might get the idea then."

Visenya laughs before she adds, "Or of one being eaten by my dragons." She swallows more wine, and leans back into the cushions of her bed. "Loron…" She murmurs to herself before she says, "Rhymes with moron, doesn't it?"

"He does mean well," Vynesa feels it necessary to intercede on the man's behalf. "He's just… enthusiastic."

"Enthusiasm." Visenya says outloud before she makes a bit of a face, "I grow tired of men being told they can do as they please regardless of our feelings." She finishes off the wine, and sits it down on the small table next to the bed.

"Isn't that just the way of the world, though?" Vynesa asks quietly, internally debating whether she ought to refill both glasses. "Who'll tell them not to? They won't listen to us."

"They'll listen." Visenya says, "The trick is having the upper hand." She scoots down into the pillows then before she says, "Go get some sleep, sweetling. Thank you for cheering me up."

That gratitude prompts the sweetest, brightest smile from the young Manwoody, a brief clasp of her hands, and a vague attempt to tuck Visenya in. "Sleep well."

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