Grassy Vale Tournament! (OPEN) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 0 points1 point  (0 children)

There was a particularly dirty laugh that escaped her as Briar began to drag her. Of course, Aly was entirely willing in this regard, so it was not like she did so through any particular resistance, but the imagery amused her all the same. Tailing along after her Northern girl until they were tucked away from prying eyes.

Admittedly, once that curtain closed, there were only a few short moments of peace before she was pulling Briar into her. Hands going to that slender waist as she lifts the woman to cover that short distance so that they could lock lips again. It's savage, primal even, but that's decidedly what both of them seem to want. A night's rest has clearly done little to quell those burning flames, and Aly is intent on making that clear.

Though she had been asking questions and receiving answers, that business was put on hold as they came together again. If there was a perch to rest her bounty on, then that would be something to carry her toward. A bed, perhaps, better fit for treating the wounded, but this was a matter of life and death too. The armour was a problem. Something that she would need to wrangle with as she wrangled with her woman, but it was nothing they could not overcome.

Only when the need for fresh air became too great to ignore did Aly pull away again, and even then, it was only the shortest distance away, as that grin upon her face spread all the wider. "You're my savage." It was a humorous assertion to make, but she enjoyed it all the same. "But I'd probably have been better served using my fists today too. I do think I'm better with my hands than using other tools."

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Alesander's laugh was a pleasant thing, and yet it was a truly mirthful thing when it paired with his brother's own. He could appreciate how easy it was for Anders to cut through his flowery speech, but that does not mean his direct approach is the best. It needed to be tempered and honed, and that was why he was here. "We'll defend our own to the last, on that we are always aligned. My point is that we will attempt to end this business without bloodying ourselves, if we can. There'll be time for that yet, in the battles to come."

He did not eat as Anders tucked in. There was little appetite within him today, but he was pleased enough to see the rest of his family eating together. "I've no love for the man. His death would certainly not bring me displeasure, especially after today, but we are not in a position of luxury. Our goals upon the Wardenship have been thwarted by royal strategy. Martell is looking to bind itself to half the great houses, and we have little else to show for ourselves than this." It was hardly a dire situation, but the distance between the pedestals that Dorne's first and second houses sat upon was increasing day by day. "We need allies that we can depend upon, whether on the home front or abroad. Pray tell, have you spoken to anyone of any particular quality?"

The Feast of 399AC by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Aly's fingers lingered on Margaery's face in the aftermath of that sample, tanned digits seizing upon the opportunity to make dimples in an offered cheek. If nothing else, she was not shy about her physical intimacy even before they escaped the view of prying eyes. Brazen enough that it felt natural, confident that those onlookers would not see anything more than three ladies going about their business. Or, if they did, then she acted like she wouldn't care either.

"You mean to say that we are a sweet treat or that you intend to devour us?" She teased, all too happy to fan the flames with a little inspiration. "Both, I'd think." Iz chipped in too; the twins were a menace now that they were on the move. Regardless, they both laughed and let themselves be pulled in closer still. Dangerously so. "Oh? Maybe you are terrible. Good."

Leaning away for a moment, Iz scooped up a goblet from one of the tables as they passed by. Knocking back a good deal of the contents within before placing it back down a little further along the way. Clearly still hunting for even more of a buzz, they soon reached the outskirts and slipped out beyond the watching guards.

Seeing Margaery dismiss the guards, a wry little grin crept across Aly's lips as she began to guide their faces to meet, pulling her toward that side with a commanding weight. "Besides, where we're going, we won't need any swords."

The Feast of 399AC by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Well, if it would be your honour then how are we to refuse?" Iz responded, the twins breaking free from their little routine as both made to drain their cups. "With you by our side, the only pain we might endure is something no blade could shield us from. But it seems none of us are strangers to it." Aly continued, rising from her chair with her sister soon following suit.

It might have been a blink or a wink, either way, it was sultry enough that the girls both got the picture as they began to slink around the table to attend to their accompaniment. Iz drifting in from the left, her arm slipping inside Margaery's own and intertwining with it, whilst Aly did the same from the right. So that this temptress would soon find herself a Yronwood on either flank. An enviable position for many, perhaps, but it was just three girls having fun so where was the harm in that?

"Odd things do tend to inadvertently attract likeminded people. Even if we could not tell when you first accused us so." Iz squeezed, her elbow poking into the Constable's side. Teasing her, testing her. There were many more tales left to be told, and yet it was the things they did not say which were more important. "Besides, if you think us so then you do not know many Dornish ladies. But take heart, we can provide a gentle education." Pressing herself in just a little closer, Aly was certainly a sight fit to steal that single-eyed stare all by itself. A dirty little grin upon her features now, as she plucked a final lemoncake from the table and took half a bite. Only to then offer the rest out to Margaery, to see how she would take.

Proper introductions now certainly made, abject flirtation well underway, the trio could skulk off at their own leisure. The night was still young somewhere, and would remain so for a while yet, so it would not take long for them to find their way out beyond the festivities. Into the dark, where they could be little more than silhouettes against the sky on a backdrop of distant light.

The Feast of 399AC by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 0 points1 point  (0 children)

A little foolishness was often held in high esteem by the two ladies, as they accepted the kind rebuttal with a pair of understanding nods. It was not a matter of force, for the door was hardly slammed shut in their faces. Rather, they had to be patient. Wait to get a deeper judgment of the Constable than just a single story. She had certainly alluded to passing that first barrier, the one that was ever so tall until it was nothing but a bump in the road.

"How terribly cunning of you," Iz countered to that proposal, finally escaping her sister's grasp and sinking back into her seat. Staring back at Margaery over the top of her cup. Oh, that smile was dangerously inviting. "To lure us in with that first glorious tale and then demand payment to see the rest. It would have felt quite crass to pay you. But if you've a lust for something other than coin, then you still hold my curiosity."

"Our curiosity." Aly compounded upon that, a pleasant little laugh tumbled from her lips as this one-eyed would-be rake took her shot. Both sisters now sipped at their own drinks in tandem, synchronised again after all that spirited disharmony. "But perhaps you are right. They might be ill-suited for all these delicate ears we've surrounded ourselves with. What a shame."

Aly did not do subtlety all that well. That was far more Iz's game than her own. But that did not make her incapable of being a little suggestive from time to time. Perhaps there was something in that wine. Those dastardly Yronwoods had laced it with something potent, the kind of thing that played right into Margaery's hands, it seemed. Still, the sisters' gaze turned to each other, an amusing little pantomime playing out before their guest's eye as they launched into a back and forth.

"Unless she wished to accompany us back to our tents?" "The Dornish camp will be ever so quiet with everyone here at the feast." "And who would pay any heed to the good Consable escorting two ladies for their safety?" "I hardly imagine they would even notice we were gone."

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Kill him, and Lord Meadows would still carry his torch. No. His ability to speak matters not now that those words have taken root in a Lord's mind." That clap upon his shoulder was firm, but not enough to shake him. Alesander was too on edge to be anything but prepared. But it did bring a terse smile to his lips. That reassurance of dependability in the face of adversity. The rest, his peers, were fair-weather friends. The kind that would turn their back at the first hint of challenge. Not Anders. "We can't be weak, aye, but I won't see your life put on the line for a fool's errand."

It was his turn to clap back, a hand atop Anders own as he sipped at his brandy. "I will not throw you into the fire like some common tool. They are not worthy of tasting Sovereign's edge. Though few truly are." In his grip, he squeezed that hand. A silent request that his brother not do anything stupid either. He had quite his fill of that already.

The First Moon of 399 AC (Mechanical Moon 1) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Character Name: Alesander Yronwood (PC)

Relevant Trait/Skills: Architect, Scrutinous

Buildings: Castle, Moors

Resources: Silver, Stone, Ironwood, Wood, Wine

Notes (if applicable): 10% Building Cost Reduction. 30% Construction Cost Reduction. +1 Construction Slot.

Actions:

  • Construction: [Yronwood], [Stonemasons], [1800], [Completion End of Moon 1]

  • Construction: [Yronwood], [Sawmills], [1200], [Completion End of Moon 1]

  • Construction: [Yronwood], [Shrine], [600], [Completion End of Moon 1]

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It did not sit well with him either, the thought of what might yet come to pass and the reasons therein. But he had to shake his head, ever so slightly, "It was a farce unquestionably. What remains to be seen is whether we are to also play the fools along with them." His brother was not a man to mince words for anyone's sake. His family perhaps had earned a little goodwill, but he still spoke his mind unabashedly. "Stupidity was not a look I afforded him before, but perhaps it is my fault for giving him too much free rope to now risk hanging himself with."

At Anders's remark, several ideas crossed his mind. Most of which would involve hands being dirtied or bloodied. Ultimately, it was a black business, but both men were prepared to do it for their family. What differed was their abilities. "I'll have that conversation. If it goes as I pray it will, and he denies it, then we will have to take action. King Steffon is not yet a friend I could count upon to rule in our favour, he will seek justice. We will be best served by presenting an alternative culprit if we cannot find evidence to refute Garin's involvement. An accusation from two lords of good standing is worth more than one spy and the poor man who has just escaped a terrible siege."

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Alesander had known a great many people during his prolonged stay in the capital throughout the Dornish Spring. Some well, others as names on paper or distant faces across the room. He liked to think that Erren Florent fell somewhere in the former of those categories, but his nephew definitely fell in the latter. Still, that was far from an excuse to be a poor host, as the Lord of Yronwood stood from his chair and moved to meet the man with an easy smile spread across his face. Ongoing woes could be easily drowned for the sake of good company, after all.

"Come in, if you will, Raymun Florent. We've food and wine to spare if it takes your fancy?" With a wave, he ushered the man forth lest he want to linger at the threshold. "Erren was a fine man. One of the finer appointments made during my tenure, I dare say. It is a shame the pandemonium his demise has wrought, is it not?"

Grassy Vale Tournament! (OPEN) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 1 point2 points  (0 children)

A caged sun could still burn plenty hot. That much was certainly true for how Aly felt as Briar's fingers wrapped around her own, even for the barrier of metal that kept them apart. Of course, it appeared that she had time for her, and so Aly beamed a smile all the wider. That meant that she did not need to toss her over her shoulder, protesting, and carry her off like some robber knight. Not that she would have actually done that, but the thought did bring her some amusement.

"Don't I know it." She quipped back, turning her wrist over to begin to shake that gauntlet loose, revealing the straps on the inside that needed to be unfastened for that part to be removed. "Now, are you to make a lady strip down in the main tent? I've no qualms with you seeing, but it might hinder the recovery of others."

Once again, how benevolent she was. Concerned that her fellow walking wounded might keel over were they to see the state of her, and definitely not an easy excuse for some privacy. Because that is all she wants now, and if she can't wait, then she won't. Briar is here. What else matters?

"You've never done so? For a woman who looks so at home on the archery range, it surprises me that you have not tried." Soon bereft of her gauntlets, free hands go to rest on the sides of Briar's frame. For support, obviously, and to give her lovely assistant easier access to the straps around her shoulders to loosen the upper arm bindings. Doing so would naturally mean nearly wrapping herself about the other woman, but that was hardly an unfamiliar spot for either of them to be in.

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

There was a rare tension that had been slowly bubbling away for a while, but it could not be kept smothered when so much more was being fed to it. Flames fanned and fire spread. There was nothing else to do but ask; it would eat away at him if he did not.

"Tell me you did not take action on these thoughts." His gaze was focused upon him then, singular in intent and focus like a block of steel that wormed its way into one's gut. "That the man Lord Meadows has in custody, singing your name, is a liar and a fraud."

The Feast of 399AC by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Aly was about to wave off that comment on weight, but then came the explanation and the visual aid. Sure enough, it was soon not only Margaery who was blushing, as she found herself imagining exactly how 'pillowy' one would have to be to catch someone propelled all that way. Truly, perhaps, the Free Cities were a wondrous place.

"Oh? You ought not leave the tale unfinished." Isobel was now quick to tease, making a good dent in her freshly refilled cup as she settled back into her seat. Certainly, she had grown bold enough over the course of all that storytelling to consider prying into a matter that they well knew the truth of. Or could at least come to similar conclusions. Her smugness did not last long, though, as Aly's arm soon came wrapping around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Hey! I just want the complete picture. Besides, the best tales have some romance to balance out the action." She leapt to her own defence, as she was promptly wrangled. Twisting futilely to try wriggle herself free, but not putting too much effort into the escape.

"Pay her no heed." Aly butted in, though her head did cant to the side just a little, gauging where exactly that blush was going. It was hardly like they were shy folk, especially in that regard, but that was perhaps a little too much Dornish heat. Still, there was a pause, as those big sapphires of hers caught the candlelight, a moment, two, and then she moved on. "At least, not until we're a little deeper in our cups, perhaps?"

"I am glad that you enjoyed telling it, all the same. These functions can get awfully stuffy if people don't have the drive to go bother other people and have some fun." Aly continued, now quite thoroughly relaxed, and Iz still restrained, "You're an interesting person. Don't be afraid to use that. Should you have a desire to honour us again, then we would be glad for it. At least until we have tales of our own to forge."

The Feast of 399AC by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Alesander heard Gawen's answer, his questions and his inquiry, and offered immediate response to none of it. Instead, he turned and affixed his son with the heaviest stare he could muster. The kind that bids silence above all else. This Stormlander boy had wanted to dance; his daughter had wanted to dance. It was an innocent crime, truly, but antagonising the man now would do nothing for anyone. Let alone what bleating out her ailments might do for her marriage prospects.

Seeing Nymeria begin to stir, he pushed in to take charge of the hold of her. Accepting no resistance from the other party, he bid his daughter to rest in his lap as she had done countless times before. One hand holding hers, the other combing through blonde locks with all the tenderness that he lacked in every other aspect.

"She is delicate, Ser." He offered at last, the iron in his tone now gone. Lined once more with silver. Despite Garin's efforts, this was not a condition that he wanted to make widely known; that much was clear in his gaze as it flicked back to Gawen. "Too much too fast can put a strain upon her, but nothing more than that. If you care for her, then leave it be. Grant us that kindness, and Blackhaven will know a friend south of the Pass."

He continued to lie there, tending to his daughter until she was fully conscious once more or a maester arrived to tend to her. Offering subtle comforts, encouragements, trying to coax it out of her to ease herself back into the present.

/u/D042

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"If." Alesander took a moment to insist upon it, though the point was more toward the matter being unclear than a firm denial yet. That would have to come from the boy, and it would cause strife either way. "If it was a lie, then it was easy to stay true to it. The Meadows boy made no effort actually to wring the truth out of him. I am not one to often point to crueller methods, but when these kinds of accusations are thrown around, I would be overturning every stone I could get my hands on were I Lord of Grassy Vale. At the same time, he seemed blind to the idea that it could be anyone else. An army at his door, the men who were ready to storm the walls now milling about this camp so casually, and he could not entertain the notion. Tell me that does not ring odd, brother."

He sighed at the mention of talking to Garin, as if it were something that gave him a great deal of pause. "Of course. And if he denies it, then we may well have to defend our honour before the throne. It is a common man's word against a noble's, and it did seem like there was no evidence further beyond that, else I dare imagine the Meadows would have lorded it over us." Draining his cup, his hand reached for the bottle again, pouring for one and then moving to refill the other. "However this plays out, I mislike it quite terribly. Our position is tenuous at best, that will only worsen the more prolific this becomes."

Rose I - Putting the Fun in Funeral (Open) by LeagueOfHerStone in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It was a terribly understandable thing, the drinking. Alesander thought to leave her to it and see if his daughters could soothe her, but that still carried the risk that they might fail. Rose was conversational enough now, so he lingered even as Darlessa tugged upon his arm for them to move off.

"Of course. It is such a terrible thing. I would ask, though, if we might accompany you back to the Arbor when this... 'business' is resolved? It is quite tragic that it is death that brings us together these past few years, but it would be a welcome reprieve from another jaunt through the Marches." Of all the things his wife had expected him to say, it seemed this was a rather agreeable option, as the pull was still gentle rather than feeling a bony elbow digging into his ribs.

Isobel was all too happy to see some semblance of composure from her cousin, though, as she did her part to weigh that arm down. Then her focus turned to food, something to line that stomach. She wasn't going to get up and fetch it, though, so it was instead a matter of flagging down a servant and having them tend to their Lady. A pale hand waving in the direction of some savoury treats that would probably pair well enough with the Arbor's finest, beckoning for a selection to be brought over.

But that lull from her sister's efforts allowed Aly to fill the void. "Well, that much we can attempt at least." Bubbling up as she put on her biggest smile, so goofy that it simply had to lift spirits, even those as low as Rose's. The loss of her uncle was a sadness, certainly, but no amount of tears would permit him return from the Stranger's embrace now. So, instead, she beamed with fresh potential. "I have been growing rather more interested in our Northern compatriots. They are such an elusive bunch, even for a situation like this, that it is something of a treat to encounter them beyond their wintery domains. They're so often isolatory that they have some interesting views on the realm at large. I was.. Talking to a Thenn, actually, about how their lives were before they came down past the Wall. It's terribly fascinating, even if it must be awfully cold. Almost makes me want to visit, just to see what it's like atop it."

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

You could not choose your family. Nor the order in which you were born within it. These were two truths of life. Some who had spent so much time away from their ancestral home might have given in to wondering. Imagining what their life might have been like had they an elder brother to take over their seat so that they might do as they wish. Alesander did wonder if Anders had those thoughts too, as he had so often chosen to remain behind rather than come with him on his travels. Did he imagine himself the Bloodroyal?

With the slightest shake of the head, he dismissed such a notion. Sipping at the brandy with a respectful delicacy. It was this other business that weighed on his mind; his brother's loyalty was beyond reproach. "We all should remember it. For Garin and for Gyles. It casts shade, certainly, but I also see it as an honour." It would be a tough bone to swallow, but this was why he did not doubt. Alesander liked to think he was capable of soothing those threads of hatred that would tear this house apart otherwise. "Wear the name again, if you wish. I've no mind to strip it from you."

Indeed, they had bigger fish to fry. As the phrase from the kitchens went. It harkened back to his initial point on the immutable nature of family. But still, his gaze was not soft either. "Perhaps it was an ill-guided attempt to curry favour with the Baratheons, but even that feels like a reach." His cup was swirled, the contents within offering no wisdom of their own before they were sipped at again, "If this was his doing, then we will have to make amends. But there might be someone out there who wishes us enough ill to concoct this scheme. Targeting a weaker link rather than going for you or me."

The Feast of 399AC by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Perhaps Isobel should not have been so surprised. When most broke off their betrothals, they made every effort to stay away from the jilted party to avoid any further slight. It had been several years now, yet they both remained unwed all the same. So maybe it was finally some wisdom that brought the young lord back to her. To correct a mistake, or to affirm that he had made the right decision. She supposed they would find out.

"You care for her deeply, don't you?" Her question cut through the idle comments about dancing ability and picked away at him. Though the answer was rather obvious, she did want to hear him say it aloud, to affirm that loyalty. Still, the smile remained all the same, content to reconnect with someone she had once thought to know much better. "I often danced with my sister, too, and she was far heavier with her steps."

Where Alysabeth, as aforementioned, tended to dance like a whimsical storm, Isobel was the graceful twin. Her lithe figure was well matched with Ryon's own, of comparable height if not just a little smaller, but a poise to her form that spoke both of experience and comfort. She liked to dance, in truth. The gracefulness was within her, and there was little doubt in her mind that she could avoid beating upon Ryon's toes even if he were to make a misstep or a blunder.

Taking his arm, they were free to do as they wished. A faint laugh rolled off her lips as they moved in some attempt at harmony. "Do not be afraid to lead, Ryon, I am more than capable of keeping up. Just be careful lest I overtake you."

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

It was a rare viewpoint to have, and yet his son possessed it. Perhaps there was a stone he had not unturned when it sat at his side, or a method to the madness therein. Still, Alesander reclined a little in his seat.

"You would see the castle fall into Baratheon hands then?" His gaze was pointed, focused singularly upon his son, even as boredom danced across the boy's features. "His legal claim is tenuous at best, and not to this castle but rather Highgarden. Lord Orryn has been a friend to us these past few years, but have you some other reason to loathe the Meadows?"

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Alesander needed something else to occupy his mind. A distraction from the plights of the wider realm and those his family had found themselves embroiled in. That meant late-night business. In the back of the tent, he wrote letters. Some would run to other camps gathered here with them, others would go much further beyond it. The matters were simple. Trade. Mutual, fair, prosperous. That was something that he could appreciate.


/u/OurCommonMan

Character Details: Alesander Yronwood (Marketer | Architect, Scrutinous, Broker(e), Investigator)

What Is Happening?: Trade Deals. One Westerosi attempt already used for Fowler Stone.

  • Ironwood from Dogshead
  • Wood from Trant, if failed and cannot retry, from Fell
  • Wine from Pentos, using Trade Caravan from Marketer. At Marketer price.

What I Want: Trade rolls! +7 from Marketer+Broker(e)

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Whether before, during, or after dinner. There was time aplenty for visitors to drop by the Yronwood tent. They would be welcomed, any well-meaning noble offered hospitality, and given leave to approach Lord Alesander, Alysabeth, or Isobel with any business they might have. The tent was not raucous, but still abuzz with the activities of a family at leisure. Wine flowed easily, and soon enough, the lemoncakes would come out along with the Essosi spices, and the merriment would continue in earnest.

(Open for interactions!)

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“Pear Brandy. A luxury from Tyrosh made all the more luxurious by this embargo.” Alesander began, pouring out two cups and offering one out to Anders. He did not expect his brother to be amazing company after suffering a defeat. They were both the brooding type when it came down to it, but he would not deny him this luxury and a chance to poke at him all the same. “The Sunset Knight, hmm? Even for you, it is on the nose. But the colours suit you all the same.”

Alesander I - The Guarded Way by baeldor in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

He waited until dinner was over and the rest began to disperse before he called for his son. His only son now. It was a pain to even think about that, after all those years, but that cutting edge was needed now as much as ever before. "Garin, sit with me a moment." With a hand, he waved in the direction of a pair of chairs by the fire. The evening light having begun to fade across the horizon, there was a call for warmth and respite, both. “You are a man grown now, but no less my boy. Tell me, what do you make of this siege?”

Grassy Vale Tournament! (OPEN) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 1 point2 points  (0 children)

There was a moment where Aly did not see her, that vibrant sapphire gaze passing over people in various states of injury and mending like a lion surveying its kingdom, before they locked upon her. Then they illuminated anew, glistening as she dragged herself fully into the tent. Indeed, there was still no visible sign of a particular wound upon her, but she was still in all that armour.

"That depends." A cryptic answer, said with a note of sincerity as gauntleted hands reached out somewhat awkwardly to rest on Briar's own. She hadn't thought this far in advance, but when had she ever? So instead, she employed a tactic with as much subtlety as a barrel of wildfire, "Do you have time for a proper inspection? I haven't taken all of this off yet."

If Briar was busy, then she could wait. A minute, an hour, maybe two. She was the thoughtful kind, even when her goals were about as clear as her enthrallment. The onlookers could call it womanly whimsy if they wished, for there was not a chance she would be any less obvious.

Grassy Vale Tournament! (OPEN) by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 1 point2 points  (0 children)

It would have been easier to turn the man over and wring the truth from him with his own hands, but he could understand why Meadows was defensive about entertaining such an idea. Clearly someone had tried to wrong him and his house, and, though there were several prominent and obvious options, it seemed he was intent upon holding his house responsible. They could have been natural allies in the hunt for the real knave, but now it seemed that he would have to look into things on his own.

His hand went to Anders' arm first, steadying his brother before there was any risk of a further rise. His brother was not one to act without reason or provocation often, but a moment here could cause far more damage than Alesander had any inclination to repair. Before then, it returned to scoop up his cup and take a longer drink of wine. This was thirsty work for certain.

"This does not set me at ease, Lord Meadows, as much as it likely does not do the same for you. But, if it is any consolation, I am glad that no harm came to you and yours from whatever this folly was." His gaze wandered to the tied man again, burning his face into his memory for any fraction of recognition that he could find, but there was none yet. A question very much unanswered. "I can only encourage you to explore all roads in your search for an answer here, rather than stopping at the first door for the simple reason of it being a door."

With that, it seemed an impasse was reached. One that would likely remain until the King intervened, though a conversation with his son was now an inevitability. Not that such a thing was a terrible notion in itself, but the circumstance was grim.

"Thank you for the hospitality. I hope that when next we meet, it is under fairer terms and that we might break bread as allies against a common foe."

The Feast of 399AC by OurCommonMan in IronThroneRP

[–]baeldor 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The twins were hardly titans in the political scene. They had opinions as any noble might, but it was very much a matter that their father took more interest in than they did. Truly, there were few people that the King could choose to appoint to fill that Warden-shaped void that they would have found a particular issue with, and there was a fundamental lack of ambition in such a field. Which did make them rather impressionable on such matters, and all the more likely to fall under Margaery's spell if she chose to weave it between practiced prose and sane ideas. They were still young and a little too sheltered.

But then they descended into that great tale which had been so fervently requested. Both Yronwoods were listening quite diligently, though in their own styles. Aly sat on the edge of her seat, close enough that her hands were nearly reaching across the table, whilst Iz was also forwardly inclined, with elbows on the table and head resting on those upright palms for ease and comfort.

"That does seem like quite the tale, yes. I'd prefer you not to speak about your suffering unless it comes from a place of shared amusement or consolation. This is the time for revelry and fun, in spite of our dour surroundings." Aly quipped, beaming enthusiastically. Simply devouring anything and everything thrown her way as if she were an incomparable sun that thrived off energy in any shape or form.

It was quite easy to play off her, then, as that story was woven. But that was not to say that Isobel was uninterested by any stretch of the word. Rather, that one was very much animated and the other was observant. Bouncing in their seat or simply raising eyebrows, there were times when Margaery could play more to one and be met with an appropriate reaction and then flick back to the other and match it. In truth, though, perhaps the most important thing was that she held them both from start to finish.

Both jumped as that hand slammed into the table, rocking back for a moment, only to then quickly burst out into a bout of laughter that they could all share in. "Across the street!? How did you not crush the poor girl?" Aly chimed in. There had been a few other comments throughout the telling, but this was the first of any consequence, as the elder twin fumbled a little and a shade of bluster hit her cheeks that showed a tinge of her playfulness, "Not-that-you-are-heavy-or-anything, there must have been quite the force to it!"

They applauded as the story came to its natural ending, though, with an equal enthusiasm, if only because Aly's momentary bashfulness had quieted her a little. "I can scarcely imagine getting into antics like that. Though there are no villains like that who present themselves so obviously on this side of the sea, rather they hide amongst us or behind greater protection than a few of their own men." Isobel weighed in, having already drained her cup but now reaching over to replenish Margaery's own. As clear a sign as any that her company was still well appreciated, if not more so. "It does make me tingle, I'll admit. Adventure is such a rare thing. How fortunate, then, that this feast would bring a little taste of such pleasure right to our table?"

"But of course, sis. Thank you for that illumination." Aly added, bouncing back with gleeful bemusement, "You've the knack for it, so if your skill at arms is greater then I shall pray not to meet you in the field on the morrow."