(120-11-12) The Lion, the Urchin, and the Fountain
The Lion, the Urchin, and the Fountain
Summary: Too much drink brings an unlikely quartet together.
Date: 12/11/2013
Related: None

Hightower Square

A broad, cobblestoned square, ringed by grand buildings hewn from stone. A massive fountain, also hewn from the same strong grey stone, stands in its center. It is wrought in the form of the Hightower in miniature. A tiny flame burns at its peak, and crystal waters pour from its base, pouring down the stony pedestal into the mirror-smooth pond below.

Stone benches offer places to sit, vendors cry their many wares, merchants ply their trade, and all around one can see the finely-dressed Oldtown wealthy meandering about. There is a pleasant smell of cooking food in the air, tingeing the ever-present smell of the salt sea, and a hint of perfumes and spices.

To the West, the Hightower street leads away. To the South, the archway to the Beacon Boulevard rises. The cobblestone market square is quite clean and fresh, with nary a sign of any beggars, street rats, or grimy peddlers hawking stolen goods. The buildings here are in pristine condition.

CONTENTS: Eonn(P) Haydn(P)

Hightower Street <HS>
Beacon Boulevard <BB>

Eonn has come from Hightower Street. He pauses here by the fountain, leaning to gather up water in his cupped palm and drink.

Bryn comes from the Street.
Bryn has arrived.

Also arriving west from Hightower Street, Aeron makes his way into Hightower Square with a motley retinue of seemingly drunk revelers. They're engaged in a bawdy song as they march down the street on a southern course; presumably towards Beacon Boulevard and beyond. One of them diverts the group to the fountain, looking a bit green.

Haydn is having himself an apple. He had just washed it in the fountain and has his very lovely deadly looking dagger stuck into it. He pauses in the cutting when he sees one of Aeron's men looking to make the fountain a vomitorium. First warning to the drunkerd is a 'don't think about it' wag of the dagger capped in an apple no-no. The apple is then used like some follow the bouncing ball towards an empty bucket that's actually closer than the fountain. "Take care." He says aside to Eonn to give the quaffer some warning that another has aim to soil the water he's drinking from.

Eonn straightens up even as he drinks from his hand, his gaze moving to the noisy group. Haydn's warning gets a nod from him, and he stands and watches Aeron's green-ish companion, coldly.

The drunkard pays no heed to Haydn's warning, but it is of no matter; he lets loose a vile stream of the evening's libations. Judging by the smell that's soon to waft across the evening air, he's had more than a few ciders at the old Quill and Tankard. The drunkard's plight causes a roar of laughter from the small group of men, though Aeron dances a few steps away from any splatter. "Can't hold your drink, can ya?" he teases and grabs the empty bucket to fill in the fountain.

Bryn stands out, in this rich section of the city. Whether he took a wrong turn or he's bravely decided to venture where he doesn't belong, Bryn steps into the square. The boy, at first, looks to be walking with a cart from the market, but he stops as it continues on, looking around with obvious curiosity. His attention, of course, like probably everybody else's, is caught by the drunkard, but that just for a moment, his eyes going up to the flame peak of the fountain for just a moment.

Eonn grimaces at the mess the drunken man has made, but at least he stops looking so intently at the group. Maybe not puking in the fountain is good enough.

Haydn's nose crinkles at the disgusting spectacle. He also spies a boy that looks like he could use a dunking himself beyond the group of drunkards. "Boy." He points the still pierced apple at Bryn, then it's pointed back to earlier empty bucket and then to the fountain, "Wash that up would you?" It's as polite a request that's every passed a Lannister's lips towards a peasant, let alone an urchin. Of course it also really didn't sound like a request either. "Let the boy do it." The young lion suggests to the fellow noble. The apple is just wobbled about like a pointer now, forgotten, or maybe he's lost his appetite. Yes, probably that.

The bucket of water sloshes about, as Aeron brings it up and over the fountain's lip. He spills a bit around him and on his boots. "Aw, shit," he exclaims, then laughs it off as he hurls the water towards the mess in the square. It's not until he reload the bucket a second time, than he realizes that Haydn had spoke and was probably addressing him. "Are you talking to me?" he asks, then decides it's best to take stock of the situation around the fountain.

The tall black-armoured man looks at Haydn somewhat skeptically, then at the boy. He says nothing, though, just watches.

Bryn blinks as he tears his eyes away from the flame on top of the fountain, looking towards Haydn. "Yes, m'lord," he answers quickly, stepping forward without hesitation, heading quickly for the fountain. Perhaps he thinks the apple is up for payment for the job. When Aeron does the job himself, and he stops again. His violet eyes widen a tiny bit as he looks up to Aeron, but then he glances back to Haydn.

Haydn gives a little, 'go ahead/get on with it' gesture for the boy. "Some clung, or at least the smell has." The scent has left his mouth soured and so he takes a silver goblet (it's his traveling cup) from his belt and fills it from the fountain. "Yes, I was suggesting that you leave it to those who should be more skilled in servant work than you good Ser. We're pages no more after all." A warm and friendly smile is given to Aeron before he extends his hand bowing his head and shoulders in proper respects for a Targaryen. "Haydn Lannister."

"I'm no Ser," Aeron remarks flatly. Maybe such a notion is insulting to him, or maybe it's just the cider. He sets the bucket down and contemplates taking the hand for a moment longer than might be considered polite. He blanches slightly, nearly a cringe as if someone is yelling at him, and grips Haydn firmly. "Aeron," he says and adds as an afterthought, "Targaryen." He turns away, probably breaching some sort of protocol to look at Bryn, taking in his violet eyes and fair hair for just a brief moment. A stag is fished out from under his sleeve and tossed to the child with a wink.

Eonn watches this with a sort of black humour. He sits on the edge of the fountain once it's relatively clear that nobody is about to vomit on him. A cat ambles out from somewhere and strolls over to him, to rub against his boots.

Bryn catches the coin with a smile, "Thank you, m'lord." The coin disappears into a pocket almost instantly. Then, he obediently goes to pick up the bucket now that Aeron has set it aside, filling it and then stepping to pour the water slightly uphill from where the vomit was, and slowly enough that the water flows and takes everything with it rather than just splashing. Haydn was right, he does seem to have some skill in cleaning up vomit.

Haydn was going to give the lad the apple as was hoped, but then the Targaryen starts to throw around money. Not to be out done the Lannister has the apple and two stags waiting for the urchin once he's done cleaning up the drunken mess. "Job well done boy."

The group Aeron is with, still in a drunken haze, continue to verbally tease their mate that couldn't hold his liquor. One or two of the jokes are directed towards the young boy, which illicits a dark look from Aeron. He takes a seat on the edge of the fountain, and looks over at Haydn. "What brings you to Hightower?" he asks. "Can't seem to take a step here anymore without walking through some nobleman's horseshit."

Eonn stays silent. The cat jumps onto his lap. He pets it.

Bryn frowns a tiny bit at the jokes directed towards him, but luckily he's smart enough not to say anything. Besides, all insult is forgotten as he sees the reward waiting for him, "Thank you, m'lord!," he says again earnestly as he takes the coins and apple, pocketting the former quickly and taking a bite of the apple. Then, after one more curious look towards Aeron, he starts to step away, back towards Beacon Boulevard again, continuing to eat the apple as he walks.

Haydn uses his now bare dagger blade to point towards the Citadel. "Youngest brother decided he wanted more than just gold on the chain around his neck." From his pouch he brings out a silk handkerchief and uses it as a cleaning rag for his dagger to rid it of the apple juices. "Yourself my lord?" It's said in a 'is lord better than Ser?' tone. "Far away from the land of nobleman's horseshit." He grins as he glances pointedly to the northeast like he could actually see King's Landing, supposed land of nobleman's horseshit, from here. "Just getting away from it all? Or visiting family?" Aeron's not the only one that's caught the coloring of the Bucket Boy. The words are woven with courtly good graces enough that cover up the little playful remark in genuine curiosity and absolute ignorance of the boy's heritage. Surely he meant some other noble in Old Town. An innocent question…surely.

"Here on family business," Aeron replies as he watches Bryn depart, "from Dragonstone." He suddenly looks up and over his left shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. I will later. No go bugger off some more." With an exagerated sigh he looks back over at Haydn and asks, "You seen much fighting then, or do you just play at soldiering?"

Bryn glances back once as he gets close to the exit back towards his regular end of the city, but not to the nobles. No, it's the fountain again. That little statue of the Hightower with the flame burning on top seems to really impress him. After a moment, he turns and runs off.

Bryn has left.

Haydn leans ever so slightly to see to whom Aeron is dismissing. Seeing no one he ahhs softly, still genteeling smiling. "I've seen enough. My father would never send a toy soldier to make sure his youngest is well protected. Hmm…your band of merriment seems to be wandering…"

Aeron nods his head affirmatively, "Aye, that they are. That they are." He slaps his thighs suddenly, making a loud noise. "All the more wine and women for me later tonight, then." He leans over towards Haydn, sizing up the man's potential alcohol tolerance. "Perhaps you'd care to join me in their stead?"

Haydn finally sheathes his dagger and bows his head. "It would be an honor, truly. I do however have plans I was about to get to. Don't let me keep you from your friends they seem like colorful entertainment. Could you give me the name of fine establishment to take up in, until I can find something more permanent?"

Aeron shakes his head negatively, "No, I cannot. Though, the Quill and Tavern isn't half-bad." There's a half-cocked grin on his face, as he enjoys his little joke. "I'd stay away from Old Street, though. I don't know if your constitution would be up for it." With that, Aeron rises and bids the young lion goodbye. "Until next time, then."

Haydn smiles and bows his head again, "I look forward to it my lord. Be well. I hope your shoes remain clean." Half-chuckling he gives one more little nod of farewell before he extends a lesser nod to the Cat Man as well. Defending the fountain together against those that would defile it seems to be enough to get a touch of recognition from the Lannister. He takes several steps away and then halts, turns and asks, "Where might I find the Quill and Tavern?" His loathing for having to ask and being such a green obvious tourist vexes him greatly.

Eonn pays no mind to the nod. He continues to pet the cat and watch the people in the square, mostly the drunken ones. Who have at least wandered away from the fountain.

Aeron points west down Hightower Street. "That way. Just look for the people having a good time. You can't miss it," he says. "Wait up, you louts!" he exclaims to his fellow carousers and hurries his steps to catch up with them.

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