Relief from the summer comes from a tantalising wisp of air that twitches hemlines and passes cool fingers across heated skin. Night is a time for lazing, and a few folk stroll in the Western Yard, moving in slow motion hither and thither - chattering with companions if they have them, or nodding in passing if they do not and are on their way elsewhere. One of the few doing neither is Elanna Baratheon.
“Hrm…” is her noncommital grunt.
Travelling the margins of the yards, absorbed by their private discussion, are a pair of Dornishmen. The one, a knight of good name, can be seen gesticulating as he makes some remark to his companion, a squire both you and a trifle inattentive as his wide-spaced eyes turn here and there to the others spending their time out of doors in the marginal cool of the sultry evening.
“... are you listening, Danyll?” the knight, Ser Aidan Dayne, asks the distracted youth with plain exasperation. “If you’d rather gawk at passersby, I’ll loft you up to sit with the gargoyles.”
Red Keep: Western Outer Yard
Dark but never bereft of light, torches in sconces about gates and the entrances of buildings provides a faint flickering illumination that leaves only the central part of the western end of the outer yard itself in the gloom. More light pours from the windows of the towers and other structures. Guards make their rounds, sometimes with a torch at hand and sometimes not, occasionally challenging one another or hammering the butt of a spear on the stone of steps or cobbled paths to call out the time. The great bronze gate is usually shut after sunset but the postern gate is kept open and guarded for men on foot or horseback to come and go.
The outer yard continues a great distance beneath the high red walls, encompassing the smaller inner yard from which the highest peak of the Maegor’s Holdfast can just be glimpsed. Here in these northern and southern quadrants of the outer yard, the royal sept and the kitchens can be found, among a number of other structures. To southwest is the great stableyard where horses of guests and the City Watch are kept. Rising in the east is the high wall separating the outer yard from the inner and Maegor’s Holdfast, the only passage through being a lone portcullis. To the west, the bronze gates lead out of the castle entirely.
The deep blue night sky is clear and cloudless, and the stars glitter. A cool breeze blows from the west. The full moon provides a measure of light when the sky is clear enough, turning the red of the walls to ghostly, silvered monuments of stone.
The fine, cool breeze has drawn any number of the city’s denizens up and into the Red Keep, and Reyna Saltcliffe is no exception. Clad in a light gown of rich rose and cream lace, she walks in measured steps with a middle aged maidservant at her elbow and a pair of black-leathered guards behind her. The Reavers glower and glare boredly, occasionally fingering a sword hilt of hiding a yawn behind a gloved hand. It would seem that following their lady roundabout the Keep’s yards is far from entertaining.
And one of those to catch sight of Elanna is a woman in crimson and gold. Kellyn’s path across the yard detours to take her towards the dark haired woman. “Lady Elanna!” When she draws near, she holds her hands out in greeting. “It seems that the night air has lured more than one of us out this evening. I know I am prone to these wanderings, but I do not often find out out so late. Is anything the matter?”
Someone seem overly energetic this evening - perhaps Pate has been putting something in the food at the Lannister manse!
One hand is raised in farewell to a young woman clad in blue, before she pauses and tilts her head up to regard the fiercely glittering stars, squinting a little, before sliding her hands to her neck and lifting the heavy sheath of raven strands away from her back.
“What time was Sarmion expected home?” she asks of her guardsman.
“At ten, my lady,” comes the politely distant reply.
“Hrm…” is her noncommital grunt.” to Ryssa.
A few folks stroll in the Western Yard, it seems, to take the night air; and others, to get from one point to another. Another set of figures joins the present company, though this one not so well-matched at Reyna’s black-leathered guards or the Lannister crimson and gold.
A lanky figure appears from the direction of the Northern yards, his steps slow, his movements easy, and his eyes closed. Robed in simple grey, the Uller youth speaks quietly to the much shorter figure at his side, and his words are slow and even as his steps: “...and peace, when the night is dark and still.” A pause, a wince. “Is that it?”
“Kellyn!” Elanna greets the Lannister wife with warmth, taking the other woman’s hands within her own.
“I was visiting with some friends, and the hour grew later than I wished. I have only just returned from being with my good aunt. How have you been?” she words all tumble out with a smile, “And your darling babies? I feel I have not seen them in an age!”
Ryssa’s posture, as she walks beside Serion, is absolutely, resolutely straight, her chin held high and her shoulders squared, keeping her steps slowed to her companion’s pace with deliberate care.
At odds with that, though, is the anxious darting of Ryssa’s eyes, wide and worried as they peer through the faint moonlight. Once, Ryssa’s hand even rises as if to take Serion’s arm - but that too is suppressed.
Also at odds is the gently encouraging smile that Ryssa gives Serion, nodding in response to his words. “You’ve got it exactly. Now try the next one?” Too far away to greet the other ladies yet, Ryssa still brightens a bit when she catches sight of Kellyn and Elanna across the yard.
Danyll Toland looks, briefly, contrite and turns his attention back to Aidan as the Dornish knight continues his discourse on… horses. “As I was saying, the hoofs need to be the first thing you check. They shouldn’t be brittle, nor soft. The color can tell you something, of course… Danyll? Gods preserve you, you’re as inconstant as the moon.” Aidan throws up his hands in frustration. “Go on, then, and do whatever it is that you’ve been thinking about the last hour.”
Danyll Toland does not wait to be told twice before he’s off like an arrow from the string, but not towards the Dornish Tower. Instead, he seems destined for the castle’s godswood. Ser Aidan does not think twice about this, in his own right. Instead, he turns his eyes to the rest of those strolling in the yard. Seeing a fellow hostage, he approaches Serion and his companion.
Kellyn releases one of Elanna’s hands, but the other remains contant in its grip as they talk. She gestures towards a bench and starts to guide her companion towards it. “Visiting with your friends upon your return and you did not seek me out? For shame!” Her tone is playful when she speaks. “But tell me, how is your good aunt?”
Like any mother, she brightens at the mention of her children - cheeks rounding into apple shape as she sighs happily. “They are healthy and always growing. Damon got into a bit of mischief here recently, but .. ” She drops a shoulder in a shrug. “Better he have some spirit than be a milquetoast.” A rising hand across the yard catches her eye and she squints a bit. “Is that Ryssa over there out so late?”
A faint smile twists the corner of Serion’s lips at the unexpected correctness of his statement, and he gives a slight nod. “Right. And in the Mother’s mercy…”
He pauses a moment—both in speech and in step—his eyes squeezed shut, and—and he sighs and shakes his head. “I never remember the next part,” he laments. Aiden’s approach he does not notice in his concentration.
“Entirely accidental, I assure you. I was paying a call to my good family to pass on messages from Janyse. Even ill she runs things with an iron hand,” a soft laugh from Elanna, “You were first call tomorrow, I promise.” She squeezes Kellyn’s hand and turns her head to regard Ryssa…and her companions.
“She spends much time with the Uller lad?” she queries of Kellyn, frowning slightly.
Many who pass through in the busy yard go unnoticed, and it seems that, for once, Reyna Saltcliffe is content that it should be so. She has a large shawl wrapped around her and over her rather too obvious belly, but it can’t hide her condition and she seems most intent on gaining the stable and the litter waiting for her in its yard. She waves to Kellyn and Elanna some feet away, and attempts to hustle out of Aidan’s way—but she is rather slow.
“In the Mother’s mercy there is…?” Ryssa prompts encouragingly, stopping alongside Serion when he does.
But then the tall knight draws near, and Ryssa’s flitting attention is drawn swiftly up to him, with a sudden, startled smile that almost chases away the anxiety in her eyes. “Oh!” she cries, her voice going up a note or two. “Good evening, Ser Aidan! And Lady Reyna,” she adds warmly, as the other lady appears from behind the barrier of the tall knight’s figure. “How nice to see you.”
Aidan’s movement towards Serion and Ryssa does indeed threaten to run into Reyna and her her entourage, and as the lady courteously moves out of his path despite her condition, he does the same .... and in the same direction, which doesn’t resolve anything. He stops and stays put until he can say, “My apologies, my lady. Please, by all means—” And then Ryssa calls out. Distracted, he turns his dark eyes to her, and lifts a hand. “Lady Ryssa, Serion—good evening. Are you helping my lord of Uller with his studies of the Seven-Pointed Star, my lady?” he asks Ryssa with a brief smile on his lips. “I heard something of the Mother, if I’m not mistaken.”
Kellyn settles herself onto the bench with a gentle smoothing of the skirts. “I hope I can have such a steely reputation when I reach a certain age,” she says with a daydreaming tone. “Well even seeing me tonight you should visit on the ‘morrow and see the twins before they begin walking!”
Another glance towards Ryssa and Kel shakes her head. “Not that I was aware of. You mean the Uller novice? And ..” Upon seeing Reyna’s wave and the shawl, she lifts her hand to wave a greeting. “Oh! Do watch out, Lady Reyna. Though at least I do not think your husband could fault such an unintended dance!”
“...refuge,” finishes Serion, and a faint smile finds its place on his lips in triumph. “Right. Refuge.” Any further progress in the exercise is broken off, and unfocused eyes stray toward Aiden’s direction.
“Ser Aiden,” his greeting follows swiftly on the heels of the Waters girl’s. “Indeed. She’s invaluable—possessed of both eyes and kindness.”
“...and, Lady Reyna?” he ventures, though her presence has not been voiced. “Good eve.”
“No, I must apologize, not you, Ser Aidan,” Reyna protests, steadying herself on her maid’s arm with a hop-skip of avoidance. “I’ve already toppled three children and an exceedingly short septon; I thought to add a knight to my tally, but you are too quick for me.” Smiling with the jape, she turns to greet Ryssa with an extended hand and an exclamation. “Ryssa, dearest, how good to see you! Hallo, Serion,” she adds.
Then she raises her voice to call toward Kellyn, “I’m quite sure he would fault it nonetheless, but we’ve avoided the matter quite neatly after all. Welcome home, Ella!” And she returns her attention to the companions at hand.
Elanna jerks up her head at the shouted warning to Reyna, and her hand goes to her lips.
“Oh dear!” but when all seems well and the fecund lady is unharmed, she settles back, with a raised hand and a smile to Reyna, “Thankyou. It is good to be back. Aunt Janyse sends her regards.”
“Exactly,” Ryssa declares, giving Serion a quick nod, her smile brightening a bit in shared accomplishment for his success. She nods up at Aidan as well, and even if her smile slips a little askew at Serion’s odd compliment, it loses none of its warmth. “Indeed I am, my lord - and it is always good to refresh my own knowledge, as well. Septa Dalla quite approves,” Ryssa adds, turning her smile towards Reyna. When the older lady’s hand is offered, Ryssa reaches swiftly to take it, grasping at it with unexpected strength. “I hope you are well, my lady?”
Kellyn’s lips twitch at Reyna’s comment. She watches the exchange of greetings and then turns her head, dropping her voice to a very soft whisper as she say something to Elanna, her expresion serene even if her eyes are somewhat sharp. “... ... ... tumbled ... ... knight. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... spawn, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...” That done, she straightens and turns to look at the Dornish and their lady companions of the evening.
Elanna looks to Kellyn with eyes that go suspiciously bright for a moment. She covers her mouth and coughs, hiding the laughter, “Maybe so, my lady, maybe so.”
She rubs her nose with a forefinger and sighs a little, her voice quieting, though hardly a whisper.
“So comfortable with the Keep’s ‘guests’ are they not?” a jut of her Baratheon chin forth, “Times change so swiftly.”
A laugh, and the Knight of the Twilight—in his element, one supposes—offers Reyna a brief bow. “Next time I will move a little more slowly, Lady Reyna. If the child is a boy, and to be a knight as his father, early practice in the lists will do him no harm.” Ryssa’s question makes Aidan more thoughtful, however. “I should not jest, of course. Have they told you what sort of penances one might serve for being inattentive towards one’s fellows, Serion?”
“It depends entirely upon one’s confessor, does it not?” Reyna asks, throwing a smile toward Serion—for all he cannot see it—and squeezing Ryssa’s hand. “I’ve been quite well,” she says, lowering her voice. She starts to say more, but something of Kellyn’s speech reaches her ears and turns away, cheeks blazing. “A lad it will be, for his father will have it no other way,” she says to Aidan, her cheer a trifle forced now.
“It depends on your confessor, yes,” agrees the Uller youth, his features dour and solemn, “But like as not, you’ll be required to stand on your head at the door of the Sept and greet those entering for services with a cheerful smile.”
A pause, a beat, and a conspiratorial whisper, “I should pay attention were I you, Ser Aiden.”
Kellyn chuckles upon hearing Serion’s description of greeting people coming for services. Warmth has returned, it seems, and she smiles at Elanna. “You see? You really must visit tomorrow that we might discuss those changes. It has come to all houses, it seems.” Another pat to Elanna’s hand and then she rises, nodding towards the other group. “Shall we join them, then, to hear what other news you might have missed?”
“A mistake I’ll not make again, I am sure, after that,” the Dayne knight replies ... almost seriously. “My errant squire will need to be reminded of it, if his thoughts run away from him yet again.” He pauses, a brief moment’s silence, and then remarks, “Whether son or daughter, Lady Reyna, I am sure the child will be a bright blessing.” He offers all three a price bow then, stating, “I should see that he has not found some new mischief that makes him so eager to escape his lessons. As always, my lord, my ladies, it has been a pleasure. Good evening to you!”
“At ten then?” Elanna quirks her brow at Kellyn in query, “If that is not too early?” She rises then and holds her hand out to the Lannister woman, “Indeed, let us join them.” She glances coolly upon the Dornish, and seems vaguely relieved at the mention of one of them departing.
Ryssa’s hand tightens around Reyna’s a little more, comforting now as she hears the other lady’s tone alter. “Then it is best to tend to those things that more attention can help and change,” Ryssa offers, a little more quietly. “And for the rest, to hope for success, either at study or at knighthood.” She too gives a soft laugh at Serion’s jest, and tosses him a quick look, almost relaxed now. “Good evening, Ser Aidan,” Ryssa says, dipping her head respectfully as he departs.