(123-07-30) Tyrell-Merryweather Wedding: Wedding & Feast
Tyrell-Merryweather Wedding: Wedding and Ceremony
Summary: Miranda and Loryn are sealed in marriage before the Seven and celebrate with a feast full of grand entertainments - like children brawling and suggestive vegetables.
Date: 07-30-123
Related: Tyrell-Merryweather Wedding: The Welcome Feast

Roses. What would a Tyrell wedding be without roses? They adorn all the altars of the Seven. Purest white roses for the Maiden. Blood red roses for the Warrior with their thorns left intact. Aging yellow blossoms for the Crone. Orange-tipped firey shades along with the shears used to cut them for the Smith. Dead blossoms turned brown for the Stranger. Between the Mother and the Father, binding the two massive figures to one another, dozens of woven vines of many colored blossoms mixed with the sweeter smaller blossoms that someday become fruits. The roses fill the sept with their heady scent mingling with the incense and wax of the candles glowing softly in every nook and alcove. And as the Tyrells have offered blossoms, the Merryweathers have laid out fruit at each altar in offering - no doubt to have it given to the needy poor once the ceremony has concluded. The scene is a mixture of romance and piety as best befits the couple soon to be wed at the marble altar situated below the Mother and Father's outstretched hands.

The High Septon himself awaits, clad in his robes of finery and spun gold and crystal crown. He nods to the septons, septas, and acolytes who throw the doors open and permit the guests to enter for the blessed ceremony.

The Tyrells have claimed the front rows on one side of the aisle with the mother of the groom wedged between her eldest son Laurent and Lord Lorant, Head of House Tyrell and his wife Hyacinth, who brought cousin Garvin. Everyone is dressed rather splendidly and still murmurming among themselves.

True to his promise the groom has benched his brother and instead asked his Highgarden cousin Raelan to stand with him. Loryn looks like he hasn't slept in a while and fidgets nervously with the sleeve of his finely embroidered coat as he heads towards the High Septon.

The groom's formal wear is green and gold - befitting his place amongst the highranking Tyrell gentlemen. His doublet is of a fine sage green brocade woven with wavy golden patterns throughought and the piping of every seam and edge in a heavy gold and bronze trim. The shoulders drop at the edge with epaulets leading into strip-sleeves that reveal his pink silk undershirt easily. They band tight again at the elbow into solid cuffs, secured at the wrist with bronzed button fastenings. The buttons continue up the doublet to the open short collar and are laced with x pattern fastenings. His slightly puffed slops a are of the same fine materials edged in gold, with high white stockings and polished black boots coming to the knee. A golden rose is pinned at his lapel alongside a white blossom edged in pink. His swordbelt hangs easily at his hip with blade at his side as befits a knight of the realm.

The large lord of Longtable, his lady wife (his second, and not too much older than his daughter) and his many sons sit at the benching opposite, with their own wives and children. Each of them wear finely embroidered blue and gold, each looking pleased and proud. The knights of Merryweather look eager to leave the sept and ceremony behind for the celebrations to come.

It is Marsei's turn to be a spectator at a wedding in the Starry Sept. The Flower of Oldtown is dressed in a lively but understated gown of draped violet silk, her soft reddish curls wound elegantly with pins and braids and gems. She is starry-eyed as she takes it all in, whispering to the family members and other ladies at her shoulders about how beautiful everything is, and don't the Tyrells and Merryweathers look lovely and pleased? She's seated among others from the nearby Hightower and situated close to what Targaryen guests are in attendance, although, as was the case the day prior at the wedding feast, she seems to be without Dhraegon in tow.

Janei is sitting with her parents, Lord Lorant and Lady Hyacinth, and brother Garvin, of course. She's dressed in a simple green dress, highlighted in gold trim. She has a whispered conversation with Garvin as they wait for things to get started, probably catching him up on the events since he left Oldtown.

Lord Josaf rises and bows to the lord and lady of Tyrell, giving his goodson a nod, and departs to go escort the bride in even as the guests continue to file.

Another of the Hightowers present, Brynden is keeping silent as he watches the proceedings. Keeping a close watch, he keeps quiet as he watches the happenings, expression perhaps slightly distant.

Daevon's here, present with the Targaryens, close to where Marsei is, watching the goings on.
It is a summer day. The weather is hot and overcast.

Marsei's attention hops here and there and everywhere, sure to capture everything and take stock of who's around her. Ever since she became capable of smiling, she's tried to bring out the same in her stonier Hightower kin, and thus Brynden is the subject of one of shining smiles. It's a wedding! her buoyant expression seems to say. A happy one! Smile! She does, however, look more pensively between her cousin and the Tyrells — namely, Loryn's brothers — and leans slightly toward him around the rigid shoulder of a nearby lady's gown to say quietly (though perhaps in earshot of the likes of Daevon), "Have you spoken to Ser Laurent recently?"

Loryn starts looking more fidgety with every passing second. "Where's she?", he murmurs to Raelan, a skinny youth in fancy green and gold who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. "What if she's run off?" Raelan gives him as look as if to say "Dude!" but doesn't actually say something.

Josaf returns with Miranda on his arm; the young woman radient in white adorned with silk roses spiraling down around her frame onto a train. A single rose, white edged in pink, sits in her long wheat-gold hair. Her holy star hangs on a fine chain about her neck. With the dress strapless, she modestly wears a woven shawl in her houses' rich tapestry of fruits so both her new house and old are on display. It's not quite a maiden's cloak (as she is a widow) but it's a nod to the house she has been born in to. Her smile is radient as her father walks her up to join Loryn at the altar. He puts her hand in his and gives the young Tyrell a kindly enough smile. There's only a moment of threat in his eyes that says 'hurt her and I kill you'. Which some think -may- have happened to Miranda's former husband…

Her stunning bridal gown is of white sandsilk - textured with care and as pristine as the snows of the North. Silk flowers in a pastel pallet of hue start just over her heart with green leaves and tendrils carrying them in a spiral of easy whirls down the gown, hugging her hips and showcasing healthy curves. It loops all the way to the long full train where it becomes a bountiful garden of embroidered blossoms and harvest fruits. Roses predominate the gown but hyacinths, baby's breath, daisies, mums, and jasmine are all represented. A few of the flowers are real which adds a sweet perfume to her. Her golden-brown hair is worn long and falls to her back in a natural wave with a white rose tinged with pink at her ear. Her jewelry is the finest gold with a beautiful weave to the chain bearing her seven-pointed holy star at her throat. Even her earrings are falling blossoms of amethyst and sapphire flowers. While the gown leaves her pink shoulders and arms bare, she wears a woven silk wrap about for modesty, the design bearing the tapestry of bountiful fruit of the house of Merryweather.

"There you go.", Raelan comments dryly when the bride arrives and takes a step back. Loryn manages a wobbly smile in response to Lord Josaf's look and focuses on Miranda instead, welcoming her with a huge goofy grin on his face.
Brynden raises an eyebrow briefly at the smile from Marsei, as if to say 'What?'. At her question, he shakes his head a little bit. "No, not recently, how so?" he whispers back.

"Oh, it's only that I was wondering— …" Marsei had been watching Brynden with a growing curiosity, but no matter what topic of importance was on her mind that somehow involves the Thorn, it dissolves the moment she sees Lady Miranda. She gives a quiet little gasp — shared by many in the seats upon seeing the radiant woman in her beautiful wedding attire — and watches her trek to the altar. It's more than the infectious joy of weddings that captivates Marsei; there's a certain reflection in her gaze, a deeper thoughtfulness. Both of them widows, and Marsei unexpectledly wed for a second time earlier this very year in this very sept.

The High Septon raises high a crystal star which catches the light of the sept and makes a rainbow spray fall over bride and groom. Behind him, a chorus of young acolytes starts to sing a hymn of praise. He takes a strand of seven-colored ribbons and binds the hands of the bride and groom together to mirror the garlands between the Mother and Father's statues.

"Beloved of the Seven, we welcome you today to this joyous occassion. The marriage of Lady Miranda of House Merryweather to Ser Loryn of House Tyrell - blessings be to both their houses." He smiles at the two and says, "Lady Miranda has come to know the path of a woman properly. Maiden, Mother, and then Crone - she will serve her Father of both heaven and earth by the taking of a husband to properly govern her. Ser Loryn has come to know the path of a man. A knight blessed by the Warrior, a crafter of stories and plays so blessed by the Smith, and soon he will know the joy and responsibility of being a Father by taking this lady as his bride."

Loryn keeps casting glances here and there until the High Septon begins with the actual ceremony. He is then fully focused, struggling hard to not well up with emotion as the ceremony progresses. All the feelz.

His mother has fewer qualms, sniffling fairly loudly in the front row, which doesn't stop Laurent from making a rather snotty remark. At least Lady Hyacinth leans over to Josanne's arm a little comforting squeeze.

Janei quiets, too, as Miranda enters, giving the woman a bright smile. She turns to listen to the High Septon. A tiny frown comes to her face at the mention of being 'properly governed' by a husband, but it's gone in a moment and she's listening and watching happily again.

Miranda is pink and rosy cheeked as she smiles at Loryn. Oh, the septon is speaking? She looks over and nods thinking that would be appropriate at this time.

Marsei's captivation and her secondhand joy for the couple is overlaid with a sense of pious respect for the Seven in Their place of worship. As the septon speaks, she holds her hands too tightly in her lap.

Brynden shrugs, listening to what's being said, expression going a bit more distant again.

The High Septon goes on - reading from the Sevenfold Path, hymns being sung, and the occasional lecture to the bride and groom about their duties to one another. One of the Merryweather men makes some kind of joke about his sister's duties that gets him a slap across the back of the head from his stepmother - comical because the woman is younger than he is.
The stepmother's smack (far more than the brother's comment) prompts Marsei to politely cover her surprised smile of amusement with her knuckles. The younger lady beside her laughs out loud and Marsei puts a staying hand on her forearm as if to prevent any more noise.

Brynden half-smiles at the smack, but otherwise keeps quiet, glancing around at the others present very briefly.

Rycherd has a deep, resonating singing voice and while up till this point he's quietly been a shadow to Lady Chessa who he's attending, when he sings the hymns, it does draw a little attention until his aunt quietly says something and he refrains from using his diaphragm when the next hymn is sung. He's sitting over in the Tyrell section with Lady Chessa so he doesn't have a good view of the stepmother's smack but there is a glance and smirk given. Otherwise, his follows ettiquette and gives the High Septon and wedding party his full attention.

Then comes the part of the wedding so beloved in the productions that the Tyrells host at the Whimsy. The declarations. The High Septon looks to the crowd and asks, formally, "Do any here gathered object to the union of this man and woman, made formal in the eyes of both Gods and Men?"

Loryn holds his breath for longer than may be considered possible. A shift in his brother Laurent's stance may indicate that the Thorn has something to say, but he keeps his mouth closed. Perhaps a well-placed lady's heel on his foot, belonging to his mother, has something to do with that.

Miranda looks to the doors of the Sept as if dreading something. The ghost of her dead husband. Perhaps that's something that may pop up in a future play but fortunately none of the Norcross (who don't seem to be invited to the celebration) make an appearance.

Marsei can't help but follow Miranda's gaze, wondering. Remembering her own wedding, perhaps, in which the family of her dead husband were in attendance but said nothing. So far, it seems as blessedly silent for Miranda and Loryn as was for her, and she smiles up toward the altar at the couple.

There's a loud clatter among the Tyrell ranks and Loryn seems ready to jump out of his skin in fright. The noise is followed by a mother scolding a child in hushed tones though. "But Momma, it's BORING!", the little boy complains, only to be hushed further while his mother looks like she wants to die of shame.

Rycherd moves his sharp gaze to the noise on the Tyrell side but when it turns out to be nothing more than a small boy, he relaxes and goes back to waiting to see if anyone objects. He barely knows the couple so there's no thoughts of objecting in his mind.

Brynden looks up as he hears the Septon's words, glancing around a bit thoughtfully. After a few moments, he shakes his head briefly, glancing back towards the door, as if considering something.

The High Septon kindly ignores the child as well, much to the mother's relief. He waits a moment more and then nods to Loryn. "Remove her — shawl, a symbol of her family's guidance and protection." Shawl-Cloak. All the same. "And take the bride under the cloak of House Tyrell as a sign of her welcome to your house and line, and your ongoing protection and care of her as your bride."

Loryn nods to the High Seption - yup, got it - and removes the shawl slowly and carefully. Raelan unfolds the pretty Tyrell cloak, strewn with the golden rose of House Tyrell and struggles a bit to get it to unfold properly, so he can hand it over. Loryn nods his gratitude and places the Tyrell cloak gently on Miranda's shoulders. He uses the opportunity to give her shoulders a little encouraging squeeze. Miiiiine.

Loryn senses Miranda is trembling but doing her best to stay still. He can feel it in her shoulders. Her smile, though, is sincere.

Once the bride is properly cloaked, the High Septon smiles and winds the colorful ribbons about them more tightly. "Now they will kiss and share their final pledges - sealing their union before Gods and Men."

Miranda is fighting to be either pale or blushing. She settles for blushing. "With this kiss, I take you, Loryn Tyrell, as my lord and husband."

Daevon's sitting there, quietly, watching the proceedings.

Loryn grins happily as they finally reach the end of the ceremony. "With this kiss, I take you, Miranda Merryweather, as my lady and wife.", he repeats and as an actor, can't resist ad-libbing. "And I promise to love you and honor you forever." Only then does he wrap his hands around her waist to pull her in tight for a long long kiss. Until the High Septon clears his throat.
Rycherd takes out a hankerchief and hands it to Lady Chessa as she gets a little teary when the couple kisses. She murmurs something about how this brings her back to her own wedding. Rycherd nods at her words and gives the hand that's not wiping tears a squeeze.

Normally a dad would be coughing the same but Lord Josaf just laughs. Until his wife elbows him in his broad stomach. Ahem. The young Lady Merryweather suffers no fools, not even her own husband or his sons.

If Josanne had been sniffly before, she's now progressed to all-out sobbing. "My little boy!", she sighs, loud enough for the next rows to hear. Which earns her an eyeroll from Laurent and a smirk from Lady Hyacinth. "At least he's settling!", she mutters with a dark look towards Garvin.

Brynden shakes his head a little as he listens, muttering something under his breath. Making sure it's not loud enough for others to hear it, though.

Marsei gazes rather admiringly through the rows to Lady Josanne (Hightower, before she bore the Tyrell name) regardless of tears or dark looks. She leans closer to the Targaryens to comment quietly to Daevon whilst smiling toward the altar, "I think it's gone beautifully, don't you?" No one fainted, which is more than … some weddings can boast.

"Here in the sight of gods and men- I do solemnly proclaim Ser Loryn of House Tyrell and Lady Miranda of House Merryweather to be man and wife, one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever, and cursed be the one who comes between them. So may it be, for the next seventy time seven years and beyond." The High Septon blesses them both with the crystal star and raises their bound hands upward. "My lords, ladies, princes and princessess — it is my honor to present Ser Loryn and his wife, the Lady Miranda of House Tyrell - long may the Seven smile on their union."

Rather unwillingly, Loryn lets go of Miranda to turn to the people in the sept. He takes Miranda's hand to lift it high, then bring it to his mouth for a kiss. As the cheering rings out, he gestures. "There shall be refreshments at Garden Isle now." Which may be the understatement of the year considering the wedding party being planned there just now.

Daevon looks a bit surprised that he's being talked to. He smiles and nods at Marsei though, echoing the words. "Beautiful," he agrees. "I hope they have all the happiness for the future."

The servants have prepared the Great Hall while the ceremony at the great sept was in progress. Tables are now groaning with food and trays with the first round of drinks are being held, ready for picking by the guests as they slowly begin to file in.

There are many overexcited girls chattering about the bride's dress and some handsome knights they spotted in the sept, earmarking them for dances later.

Banners of all the represented Reach houses hang from the high ceilings, although the golden rose of Tyrell and the cornucopia of Merryweather take precidence over all. Only the red and black royal standard hangs higher out of respect for the Crown. The three leaves of of Oakheart, the golden sunbursts of Cuy, the yellow cranes of Crane, the Hightower, the merman of Manderly, the green and floral Meadows, the hives of Beesbury, golden tree of Rowan, the grapes of Redwyne, the archer of Tarly, the centaur of Caswell, red and yellow Fossway apples - many many more glistening brightly in the light of the chandeliers.

The high table houses the high-backed chairs carved with the rose of the Great House gilded in sparkling gold leaf for bride and groom, Lord Lorant and Lady Hyacinth, the groom's mother and the bride's father, and a pair of chairs set aside for any of the royal house. The silver salt boxes from the night before decorate the lower tables while golden ones sit for the most illustrious of guests. At each setting of the high tables sits a potted rose - delicate and small yet of hardy Highgarden breeding - a gift from the house to their guests. All the tables are adorned with bouqets of fresh still living roses in foreign porceline pots, above and below the salt. The color of the roses mirrors the colors of each house although the golden-hued roses of Highgarden sit in each as a reminder of their leige-lords.

Entertainment already roams the hall - a harper singing the sweetest of songs and the more lively hymns sits near the high table while the lower ones have the juggler from the evening before to entertain with his tricks and colorful balls. Musicans set up in the high gallery for the later dancing, a full compliment of the finest Oldtown can offer. Mummers troupes wait in the lesser halls reciting dialogue and adjusting their costumes - when the lord of the Whimsy marries it is expected they will get to share in the festitivies one way or another. Lord Garvin is especially pleased to see them and spends most of his time in the company of his old acting friends and 'companions'.

Dressed in their finery, the guests are led to their respective tables - care has been made to sit friend with friend and foe well away from foe. Those who are not as well known to the House are grouped together so that new friends and alliances may perhaps be made over the gold and silver plates set out. The entire display is one of wealth and prosperity; both the Merryweathers and Tyrells trying to outdo one another with their largess it seems. Wines and beers flow freely - meads from Beasbury, the finest the Arbor can offer, and even a few Dornish plum wines. The bravest of the brave can try some of the fermented Northern beers or the sweet spicy rum from the Summer Isles.

Daevon's here, simply to be polite, to make a very brief showing before prudently leaving. He's keeping an eye out for any Tarly's and is relieved that they're situated very far away from him. That doesn't mean that there won't be any problems though, the death's too new, for there to be anything but hard feelings. He keeps well away from Lord Garvin as well, and Ser Laurent.

Rycherd knows very little here but Lady Chessa insisted that he go 'mingle' with the Tyrells and Merryweathers at the party while she catches up with some old cronies who are going to haughtily observe the proceedings and quietly criticize the young and foolishness of those that do not have their experience. Rycherd is almost glad to be away from her keen eyes and goes to get a drink to steady the nerves. The man is much more comfortable no the jousting field than verbally sparring with other guests. But a few drinks will hopefully fortify him for the night to come.

Loryn has been swamped by Tyrells all hugging him an offering him hugs and congratulations. He looks rather relieved when he finally makes it to the high table and his seat, where he pulls out a chair for his wife - his wife!! - first, making sure that Miranda is comfortably seted.

Miranda is all aglow and all jittery with excitement - the many well wishes and envious sighs of her Merryweather cousins, the septas and septons blessing her (and a few looking displeased by her decision) - all behind her as she makes her way to the grand table. Her face looks stretched from smiling so much but it's a joyful kind of pain. She sits where he draws her chair out and beams at their guests.

Even on the way to being seated, Marsei's arrival at Garden Isle immediately swirls her into conversations with faces familiar and new from all over the Reach (except any Tarlys, although no such opportunity has arisen-so far). Some of her former married house — represented in the banner rife with apples — are in attendance, and they seem amicable from afar. She eagerly takes part in the chatter about the bride's dress with maidens and, with equal comfort, chats comfortably with elders. She beams toward the high table, but does not add to the crowd just yet. The bridge between Hightower and Targaryen at the party, she once again finds herself near Daevon. She follows his gaze without staring at the Tarlys outright. Under the din of talk and harp, she asks in a knowing hush, "Are any of his close family here?"

Janei was, of course, part of the swarm congratulating Loryn, but only for a moment. It's as if the young girl realizes how overwhelming that must be. Still, she seems happy for her cousin, and in general as she moves to take her seat when they arrive back home.

"I recognise a couple who were with him," Daevon says quietly. "Not his squire though." He is not staring, he is looking worried though, especially when tensions seem to be rising when one of the Tarly men notice him. "Ah, can you perhaps give the bride and groom my blessings? I think it might be wisest if I slip out. I'd wanted to see them wed though. They deserve such happiness. I'm so glad they've found each other."

Loryn looks around and waves to people who are looking his way, which includes the Lady Marsei who gets a warm smile from the groom. Then he sinks down into his own chair with a happy sigh and although official toasts have not been spoken, chugs down a cup of wine. "Ah. Well. We've done it.", he murmurs to Miranda, "Nobody fainted, nobody died."

Rycherd notices the rising tension coming from the Tarlys and keeps a careful eye. He's here as a guest but Rycherd isn't one to sit idle if a fight breaks out. He takes another sip of his ale, making sure to leave his sword arm free as he starts to make his way over there. He's gives friendly bows to the nobles his encounters, careful to keep his eyes averted, being a bastard knight. Otherwise if need the man is positioning himself to be useful.

Being present as well, Brynden is still looking a bit distant as he moves to take his seat. He remains quiet for now, glancing around as he studies people a bit thoughtfully.

Marsei leans toward Daevon in a conversational fashion - not so much as to be improper toward the Maiden's Knight, not at all, but in such a way that she naturally blocks the view of the Tarlys with her elaborately styled hair. Her look, too, is one of worry, but it's set aside in favour of smiling. "They do, don't they?" she says of the happy couple. "I will, of course I will. Don't forget to take a rose for the garden!"

As the guests are seated, the Lord of Highgarden stands and gives a welcoming toast. As the Merryweathers did last night, he invites the guests to share his hospitality and break bread and salt. It is afterwards that the music plays and the servants begin to serve the first courses - soup to begin with, stews of venison, of rabbit, barley with carrots and turnip, whitefish stew with onions, bacon and bean, and a lush soup of mushrooms and buttery snails.

Daevon smiles back at Marsei. "Ah, thank you. And I will." He slips to his feet, before the food is begun to be served, and tries to make a quiet, unnoticed exit.

Loryn had been too nervous to eat ahead of the wedding, so he finds himself gobbling course after course as they are being served. Interrupted only know and then by a well-wisher who comes to the high table between two courses being served to congratulate him and Miranda. Nearby, his family are also enjoying their meals, sharing some rowdy tales about weddings in Highgarden in voices loud enough to make sure the wedding couple overhears.

Miranda tries to not blush at every ribald tale. It's hard to forget she's a widow sometimes. She eats sparingly of the soups. Even as the appetizers are brought out - more of the delicious buttermilk biscuits and preserves, pies with cheese and onion, pies with beef and bacon with a hint of ale, mushroom and onion pastries, small pork pies with shallots and apples - all manner of small eateries many of which seem to have been made at the Oldtown bakery that supplies the Whimsy with their fare.

Rycherd sits at his table with the virtual strangers that surround him and finds himself paying more attention to his food than the conversations happening around him. His manners are excellent, his tone polite as he listens to the nobles around him talk about the wedding, fashion and of course old scores. Daevon's exit is noticed and a few gossip about the Tarlys feelings on the matter.

The Merryweather lord frowns when he sees the Maiden's Knight depart. He leans over to his wife and gets a bit more information on the matter. Ah, Dornish issues. They were too busy preparing for the wedding to get such gossip.
The pies with beef and bacon and a hint of ale go down a treat with almost every male in the room. Loryn is already on his third slice, despite being told there will be more courses to come. He does begin to fumble with the fastenings of his fancy coat, trying to remove it without anyone noticing.

Somewhere down the table a little Tyrell girl and a little Hightower boy suddenly proceed from vocal squabblings to throwing bits of food at each other. One bit hits the boy on his forehead, leaving a dramatic-looking red trail. Love at first sight.

Norah is late, quiet as she arrives. She rather sneakily attempts to find a seat without drawing attention to her tardiness. She is however wearing a rich gown of Lannister red and gold with bountiful embroidery. She swoops past the young lady and young man, setting a napkin down infront of the young man, moving to sit down at a seat not too far away from Rycherd, next to him if possible . Her hair is pinned back with little red roses and left mostly down. "My apologies. I was having trouble." she offers in a whisper to Rycherd, face a little red.

Despite her dainty manners and the tremendous feast the day before, Marsei is not shy in adding many fair portions of lavish food to her plate. Before she's set in too deeply, however, she excuses herself from the table — not to slip away in the footsteps of Daevon, but rather, to go apologize on his behalf. She pauses long enough to give a sympathetic look to the Tyrell girl and her young kin squabbling before approaching the high table in hopes of paying her respects, first to Lord Lorant and Lady Hyacinth before the Merryweathers.

The third course is greenery - summer salads all brought fresh from the bounties of Longtable - peas and onions in gravy, turnips in butter, greens dressed with apples and pine-nuts, turnip greens, fennel, and sweetgrass, carrots swimming in butter, and mashed turnips and cauliflower in a gravy and buttery sauce.

Rycherd smiles as Norah arrives, glad that he was able to save her a seat at his table. He gives her a look, an arched brow at her lateness but isn't rude enough to ask, "I'm sorry to hear about that. Well you missed the first course but otherwise I think there's plenty here for you to catch up." He looks around for her husband, "Is your husband coming to dinner too?"
Brynden is eating in quiet, although he's doing a little more drinking than eating now. Not paying too much attention to the others present at the moment.

Lord Lorant rises to his feet when he sees Marsei approaching. It gives him a good excuse to dodge the greenery course. "Lady Marsei, a pleasure to have you here.", the Lord of Highgarden greets warmly and takes her hand to bring it to his lips for a kiss. "I hope we shall have occasion for a longer conversation while I am in Oldtown. Where is your husband, the Prince? I hope he is not unwell?" Lady Hyacinth also greets the Targaryen-nee-Hightower lady politely but remains seated. She actually enjoys the green stuff!

The Merryweathers are also most happy to see Marsei, giving her kindly greetings and cheerful thanks for her attendance. The young Lady Merryweather bounces her toddler on her knee and makes the baby wave a hello.

Miranda gives Marsei a sunny smile and a bit of a giggle. "I'm so glad you could join us again for the ceremony. Do give His Highness my regrets. We didn't have a puppet show as he was hoping but we do have some delightful mummery planned. Make sure he gets one of the roses, would you please?"

And even as Miranda mentions mummery - a group of young children escorted by the septa who has been assigned in her place are escorted forward. The bow and curtsey, respectively, to the high table and announce themselves as the Half a half-penny players. They then put on the presentation of Ser Loryn and Ser Andolin stark fighting the Questing Beast -ending with their knighthood by Ser Malcolm. (http://gobmush.wikidot.com/log:123-06-16-daring-doos)

Norah smiles to Rycherd "Little Teryne would not stop fussing after I was dressed." she whispers, smiling, taking a portion of the salad when its offered, none too shy. "It was a hiccup in my plans." she offers with a small chuckle. "Has it been a fun dinner?" she asks towards the Hill, curiously, sweet innocent face starting to lessen with redness. She watches up towards Loryn and Miranda, considering things.

"Yes, it's been a very nice dinner so far," Rycherd tells her as he eats his salad, "And there was a little tension in the beginning, but it seems to have abated." He cracks a smile at the mention of her son, "And how is Little Teryne doing? I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to stop by but Ser Lorn has been keeping me busy."

"I should love to, my lord," Marsei tells Lord Lorant, beaming with sincerity. "When all the excitement has worn down-that is, at least a bit." She sends a warm smile in the direction of the newly wed couple. "They've enough excitement between them to last a lifetime, I should think." She nods her head in a kindly, deferential sort of way to Lady Hyacinth. "Prince Dhraegon is not feeling so well today, but he sends his brightest regards." She brightens all the more at Miranda. "Oh, absolutely! I suspect it will find a prized spot in the gardens of the Hightower. He'll be so sorry to miss the play. Congratulations and Seven blessings upon you both! You look so radiant, Lady Miranda." The toddler on gets a little wave in return then. "Prince Daevon also sends his sincerely apologies for not being here, as he was sorry to leave, but before he left he told me how pleased he was to see the two of you happy. He was so glad to attend the ceremony, as I was I." She bows her head to Lord and Lady Merryweather properly. "How lovely it is to see you. I should like to talk to you before you return to Long Table — about Dorne," she says more quietly to Lord Merryweather, though her glance hops to Lord Lorant in the same breath as well. No more on that now, though, her beaming smile says. There's a wedding to celebrate and mummers to watch.

Loryn offers Marsei a warm smile, accepting the explanations about Dhraegon's and Daevon's absence easily. "I trust Ser Daevon will not miss the tourney tomorrow.", he says. Then the children's mummery is announced and he chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair. He saw it before, but he's clearly looking foward to see it again.

Norah nods a bit "You've been by. I've been busy too you know. I've had to finish blankets with embroidery and ensure that I've responded every letter of congradulations, I've had to send gifts out. Poor baby girl, I dropped ink on her. Beautiful crimson ink." she offers, smiling. "My poor husband. He has had to watch me flurry about. We're having breakfast before the tourney, do drop by the kitchen. I have special meals prepared for you to take with you." she offers towards Rycherd.

The play has had all the shakes and snags worked out. Ser Andolin has a limp and a bow, and the horse-chase sequence is drawn out as they rush around the hall. The monster even runs under the table where the Lannisters sit, chased by the pair of older 'knights'. Miranda looks horrified. Loryn looks delighted. "No, no," he calls out, "it was just myself and Ser Andy. There were no lions there, just the Questing Beast."

Brynden just shakes his head a bit at what's happening now, getting back to the eating and drinking.

Rycherd gives a deep smile as Norah offers him that kindness, a meal before the tourney tomorrow, "Thank you. I will definitely make a point of dropping by the kitchen then before I go out to the field." Then the rush sequence takes the children underneath their table, causing the knight to laugh at the antics of the children in the play, "Yes…yes, you must find the questing beast." He moves as well as he can to let the children keep in character.

Rycherd's leg is whacked under the table by a wooden blade. "Sorry milord," calls a boy's voice. One of the ladies nearby squeals and stands up in surprise. "Sorry milady," comes the same call.

Norah covers her mouth, laughing merrily at the monster! She seems amused at the antics going on, but she does politely crossher ankles just incase a child gets cheeky. "You can get that beast!" she calls, merrily at the faux knights. It is fairly clear she's good natured about this srort of thing. She takes her glass of lemon water, drinking it slowly and daubbing her lips with amusement "Of course, and if you feel flushed you are to drink something that isn't wine, yes?" she asks, watching the squealing lady and snorting a little into her napkin, her laugh soon escaping again.

With the hall distracted and amused, the servants start to bring in the fine main courses. First the fish and foul - a whole roast swan with its' feathers returned in the plumage, river-pike poached in almond milk or crusted in herb rubs, trout with fresh lemons from Dorne or baked in a bacon-wrap, crab steamed and served with butter, ducks in an orange sauce and chickens in fresh garlic and and thyme, and whole game-hens in a warm buttery gravy.

Marsei can't leave the table without paying a visit to Lady Josanne. They exchange a few warm, quiet words of the loveliness of the wedding (perhaps warmer on Marsei's part), which culminates in something about a bear instead with a glance to the mummery in action. She seems reverent to Loryn's mother.

She laughs merrily on the way back to her seat, watching the children run around the Lannisters — although it's not without a hint of wariness in case one of them takes offense. She's well-pleased by the course of greenery that's appeared at her place during her absence, making good and sure it's not swept away in favour of the new one. "Chin up, cousin," she teases Brynden.

Rycherd preferrs fish to foul so he takes advantage at the wide array of dishes to get river-pike poached in almond milk, crab steamed and served with butter and trout baked in a bacon-wrap. It's clear the man has a healthy appetite. He winces as the boy his him with his wooden sword and makes a teasing look at Norah, "Ahh the boy might have wounded me. Whatever will I do?" He gives a laugh at her and shakes his head as the children continue their play.

Miranda is daintily eating a bit of the dishes to ensure she's enjoying the feast- after all, it -is- her wedding. But she's not eating too much since brides tend not to think about that on their wedding day. Too much talking and greeting and toasting to actually -eat-.

Norah tsks a little "I suppose you could cry about it, Ser Rycherd." she suggests, grinning from ear to ear. She.. takes bits of everything, looking a little unsure of some of it (likely because she isn't sure the polite way to eat it.) She works slowly, taking small polite bites, although its clear that she's probably going to snag more of the pike!

"Hmmm?" Brynden replies, looking to Marsei. "What? This is good food and drink, isn't it?" A brief pause, before he offers a brief smile. See, everything is okay, right?

The play ends with Loryn and Andolin being knighted by a mini-Malcolm and they raise swords in salute to the groom. That done, a full fledged child brawl breaks loose as Lord Merryweather flips a golden dragon onto the floor for them to fight over. Hair is pulled. Nice new tunics are torn. A few words a twelve year old shouldn't repeat in front of adults are shouted loudly.

"No…one must not cry on the battlefield," Rycherd teases Norah with a smile, "I will be fine." His eyes watch as the children move off and then the fight breaks out. He shakes his head and murmurs, "If all conflicts could be ended that way…" He then turns back to his food and Norah, politely grazing on his meal. Making sure to carefully follow ettiquette.

"It's wonderful!" Marsei replies to Brynden, her plate full of said wonders all over again. Where does she put it all? "The Tyrells and the Merryweathers have outdone themselves." Or each other. "Your— " she begins only to have her attention drawn to the scrambling children, watching with something halfway between an amused smile and a wince. "… Your expression reminds me of my father, sometimes, is all. Is there something on your mind?"

Norah looks unshocked! She looks to Lord Merryweather, and then the child brawl. "Now, I thought that only happened at country weddings!" she chortles at Rycherd. She looks tempted to intervene "Oh we could add to the spectacle. Would it be terribly rude?" she asks, amusement on her face. "Shame Ser Ludvik isn't here - he needs to see what he's getting himself into." she gestures at the fray.

Miranda looks mortified. Her father is laughing merrily and tossing more coins into the fray so it breaks up. Loryn is torn between his goodfather's reaction and his wife's so he settles for drinking more and trying not to laugh too loudly.

"Oh no, I strictly try to avoid becoing the specticle," Rycherd tells her with a smile and takes a sip of his ale, "I'll leave that to the children who can be called 'adorable' afterwards." He nods as she mentions that Ser Ludvik isn't here, "Where is your husband? Spending a quiet night before the joust tomorrow?" He's curious to know if he'll be facing the other Lannister on the field tomorrow.

Norah gives a small shrug "He's still not committed. He may be getting a bad head, he was curled in his great chair with the wee one, playing with her fingers when I took my leave to come here." she offers "You'll have to ask him yourself." she offers with a polite shrug, laughing again.

Although the Merryweather lord seems amused, the Tyrells have the children shoo'd off the floor with the promise of food and coins for all. And appropriately enough the next course is served - a whole wild boar is brought out - apple in it's mouth. The skin is peppered and crackled from being roasted to a crisp. Mushrooms, mashed neeps, onions, and apples are all cooked in its' juices. The lesser tables are brought out a smaller pig in a plum sauce, stuffed with chestnuts and truffles, mutton in ale and onions or honey and cloves, lamb peppered in garlic and mint, and more of the tempting beef and onion pies with hints of thick bacon.

Brynden lets out a bit of a breath. "It's just… memories," he replies, words kept rather quiet. There's another brief smile, before he adds, "But yes, they have outdone themselves. The entire feast is fantastic." Looking around once more, he smiles.

With the semi-professional children off the floor, the Whimsy takes the hall to present the tale of Loryn and Miranda - a love-story set in the stars by the Gods themselves! Miranda face-palms until Loryn pulls her hand down to kiss it, then stealing a kiss from her directly.

Rycherd stifles a laugh as the next show starts up and gives an admiring look to the boar that's brought out, "That looks wonderful." It's pretty clear that Rycherd considers this to be a treat. Much better than the usual fare he's used to. He gives Norah a nod, "I'll try to make a point of greeting him if I see him on the field tomorrow."

Marsei's smile turns immediately empathetic, and she digs no further into Brynden's memories. "Yes!" she agrees, for not enough can be said about the feast. "A strong bounty," she says, an something of an amalgam of the two houses' words. She turns an admiring look toward the high table, on that note, only to look quickly away as the bride and groom kiss. She focuses for a while on her meal, chatting a bit with those around her now and then; a few lords and ladies have queries about her recent time in Dorne, which she's happy to answer, speaking on such things as the loveliness of the weather and the graciousness of their hosts in Starfall.

Norah cant help it, she moves if necessary to get some of the plum sauce pig and takes some from her plate to set on Rycherd's plate, without asking him. "Make sure he has enough to drink that isn't wine, if he does?" she asks, voice gentle and soft. She takes more bites, seemingly calm. "You know you can join us in the main hall for supper at the manse, yes?" she asks concerned "While you are a bastard, you are still a knight of house. That is important." she half scolds.

The actors present the story of the sad septa - widowed and heartbroken and seeking solace in the comfort of the sept. Miranda looks uneasy by this as does several members of her family. Her elder brothers and father especially. Most knew that it wasn't heartbreak that sent the girl to the sept once her husband was dead. The Loryn - who is milking his role up as much as possible, is presented as a playboy with options yet none of them truly stirring his soul. There's a meeting on the steps of the sept where Miranda toils like a servant. Her smile says this part is true. Then there's the dramatic rescue when a cartload of chickens goes wild - the smallest actor dresses as a dog and runs hither and yon - jumping atop tables and through legs until the 'cart' overturns and feathers are flung everywhere. 'Loryn' saves 'Miranda' from the cart, starting to fall in love with the young woman. It's dramatic. It's romantic. It's hilarious. Eventually it ends with the two of them realizing they were truly in love and her presenting her septa's habit to a septon before rushing into 'Loryn's' arms.

With the love story completed, the desserts are brought out. A display of carved fruits and vegetables - centered around a large rose made out of carved strawberries, sponge-cake, and fresh cream. The carvings are of birds, cats, flowers, musical instruments - each one a piece of art. A spun-sugar cornucopia is also brought out with fruits and vegetables made of marzipan and a selection of spun sugar roses and candied rose-blossoms in sweet sugar.

To the delight of some and horrors of others, a third tray is brought out - the fruits and veggies shaped to resemble the male and female body-parts. Suggestive melons, tomatoes, carrots, squashes… Some of them have been arranged to help give the bride and groom suggestions for the bedding portion of the celebration.

"I'll watch out for him on the field m'lady," Rycherd tells Norah softly as the play occurs around them, "And thank you for the invitation to dinner…I will consider it." He gives her a half smile, "And there is no insult for me to each elsewhere. Sometimes it's nice to have a quiet meal." He does give chuckle at the chickens and dog part of the play. His mirth only increases as the suggestive desserts arrive.

Lord Merryweather is laughing, the Tyrells are politely sniggering. Miranda somehow expected this and is covering up some of the more suggestive pieces with her napkin. Loryn is torn between embarassment and amusement.

Norah chokes just a bit on whatever was in her mouth, jaw a gapin' and eyes staring at the fruit "My goodness…. well this is memorable, right?" she asks, laughing and wiping her mouth.

Lady Josanne shoots her sons a look. Playing with the vegetables will not be tolerated.
Lady Merryweather also shoots her stepsons a look before throwing one of the squashes at them. She seems to have seen this coming as well.

Marsei fell quietly out of conversation when the play of Miranda and Loryn's romance began. It's her turn to look distracted; even a touch sad, until the comedy amps up and she comes 'round to her smiling self again, well in time for the sugary treats to be brought out. "Oh, I'll have to see if I can save some for Dhraegon," she comments to those nearby. What she won't be saving for Dhraegon, however, is anything on the third tray. She's among the horrified guests, blinkingly like a shocked maiden and averting her eyes completely — toward Miranda, as if to express her deepest sympathies for having to withstand al of it.

"Music! Dance!" The lord of Longtable claps his hands and calls the musicians to start up some lively dance music for the guests even as he whispers something to his daughter that turns her a brighter shade of red. She looks like she wants to die, shooting Marsei a look of thanks for her sympathetic pain.

"They seem so happy and optimistic," Brynden remarks after the play. "Let's hope they get to be the lucky ones…" Trailing off, he shakes his head, before he sees that third trays, unable to hold back laughter. "That is quite some pieces of art, wouldn't you say?" he comments.

"It is very memorable Lady Norah," Rycherd tells her with a smile as he opts to take one of the desserts that isn't of a body part. He glances over at the dance floor and asks her, "Do you dance?" Rycherd has been trained in a few styles so he can if she wishes. He takes a drink of his ale, "Depending on the music, I do quite well."

"I do hope," Marsei agrees quietly to Brynden— when it comes to that part. "I-I don't know that I would call it art as such," she adds primly without looking away from Miranda, lest she accidentally glimpses the offending fruits and vegetables again. She looks as though she wishes she could whisk the new bride away from the "art" and the public jokes leading up to the bedding ceremony. She mostly avoided the majority of it at her (second) wedding, as some may recall — but most might not, on account of being too far in their cups by that time to remember her slipping away. "But the music is good."

Norah head tilts "A bit, I'm not especially graceful though, Ser Rycherd." she admits "I do enjoy it though." she offers, smiling with a small smile. She takes a non body part desert as well, nibbling it slowly. "You know, if anyone had pulled such a prank on me, I suspect my brothers would have pummeled them in the garden." she murmurs, softly.

Dancing there is, with Loryn leading his blushing bride to the dance floor. They make a striking pair, both very much in love. One of those rare blessed occasions where bride and groom happen to be of suitable families and have their parents blessings on the matter. Some of the younger girls sigh and hope they get their own romantic story, eyeing the single knights.

The tender moment is somewhat marred by a couple of older boys (No one is sure of which family) getting a hold of a pair of carved eggplants and starting to duel with them.

"As good brothers should," Rycherd tells her with a smile and then smiles as the newlywed couple takes the dance floor, "And I'm sure you're a lovely dancer Lady Norah." He gives her a nod to the floor, "Please…for me. It will be a treat." He knows she likes to please others and in this case he doesn't mind taking advantage. The dueling eggplants are ignored for now in light of a chance to dance.

Watching the couple dance and look lovely and in love is a welcome distraction for Marsei, in-between plucking at the petals of safe, spun sugar roses. Were it not for the dueling boys. "Oh, goodness. Seven help us," she says, sounding for all the world like a sweet-voiced sixty-year-old septa instead of a great Lady of five and twenty years in that moment.
Norah stands slowly, offering her hand to Rycherd, her cheeks getting just a bit pink. She squeezes Rycherd's hand, eyes half closed. She looks a liiittttle tense.

Luckily, actual septas step in and drag the two off. The eggplants are thrown to the floor and soon enough fogotten. Some mothers look displeased, some fathers look amused. Of course, Lord Merryweather is -very- amused. Things are going just dandy for him as he watches the pair on the dance floor. He comments to Lord Tyrell, making a slight gesture towards Garvin - who is enjoying seeing his old friends and making comments about the veggies on display.

Rycherd gets up and then takes Norah's hand, giving her an encouraging look as he takes her onto the dance floor, "Thank you for being so gracious." Then he starts leading her into the dance, keeping a careful hold on her to help if she struggles at all with the dance. His manner is cordial and respectful as he takes her through the steps.

There's a brief moment longer that Brynden laughs, before he goes quiet again. "The music is good, yes," he finally replies, with a quiet smile. Draining the last of his drink now.

Norah was being modest in saying she can't much dance. She's actually quite well trained and just shy. She seems merry enough, moving gracefully enough with poor Rycherd. The poor knight is likely to notice she's squeezing the hell out of his hand.

More and more couples take to the dance floor. Many enjoy the not quite so ribald desserts along with the bountiful selection of drinks offered. Loryn holds tightly to his bride, stroking her long hair with his hand as if fascinating to see it unbound for a change - even if she's been residing in the Garden Isle for a while.

Rycherd doesn't complain as she squeezes the hell out of his hand. He takes her through the dance steps smoothly giving her a smile, "You are a lovely dancer Lady Norah. Just relax and enjoy yourself." Since her husband can't attend the event, Rycherd is doing his best to make sure that Norah is having fun. He might have bruises later from her squeezing him but you will never hear Rycherd complain.

Dances go on - some for couples, some more group oriented line and circle dances. Some the more flirtatious types where couples never quite touch but can make sulty eye contact the entire time. Soon enough, with agreement from the lords at the high table, the ribal tune of 'My Lady's Slipper' starts to play hinting at what's about to come next. Miranda freezes like a doe caught by a hunter and Loryn grins impishly. He leans over and kisses her softly, whispering something to try to reassure her.

Norah is more or less fantastic at not stomping Rycherd's feet "You know that I just enjoy getting out of the manse, yes? I'd have just as much fun settled on my swing in the garden embroidering." she teases towards Rycherd. She's not flirtatious with her movement, but she's also not shy about brushing Rycherd.

"And I enjoy having a chance to socialize," Rycherd tells her truthfully as they go through the dance steps. He does pause though when the tune, 'My Lady's Slipper' starts and looks to Norah to see if she knows what kind of dance this is, "What's this one?" He's not familiar with it at all. But then it becomes obvious what the tune is for and it's Rycherd's turn to flush, "Ahh, nevermind, I think I have the idea."

Lady Marsei eventually rises to take part in one of the group line and circle dances, the familiar choreography so memorized that her steps are flowing and easy. Afterward, she turns down a few (mostly) well-meaning men who ask her for a dance to stand in for her husband, but makes friendly conversation with them on the sidelines, until the beginning of My Lady's Slipper sees a revival of her sympathetic look toward Lady Miranda. It's short-lived, as she politely turns her eyes away and sits back near Brynden, sighing quietly.

Norah nods a bit "Let us head back to the Lion Door Manse, that poor newlywed needs a bit of privacy." she suggests, offering her arm again to Rycherd for an escort, smile showing "I'm quite glad that Brynden got everyone so… drunk that nobody paid much attention."

And the traditional stripping of the bride and groom commences with the pair being taken out of their finery and hustled upstairs to finally share a bedchamber. Some of the Tyrells gossip that despite the fact the lady's been residing in the estate for months and is no maiden, she's been firm in sleeping in her own bedroom and not spending too much private time along in Loryn's company. No doubt he's been looking forward to this part for some time now.

Many of the guests take the suggestive vegetables along with them and shout out hints and make demonstrations.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License