#varyn x jaenara

[prodixal]

Varyn could hardly digest polite and shallow conversation. Small talk. Pleasantries. Though years of practice have made him somewhat of an expert on the matter. He navigated social situations with relative ease. It was like a combat, of sorts, one first had to gauge the others honour, motives, resolve. Then study their movement closely. From the way they wielded their sword, to the way they moved their feet. It was all crucial to absorb, to understand. And once he applied that same logic to conversation, and realised every one of them was secretly a battle, things had began to move much more smoothly.

Conversation with Jaenara, while simple on the surface, was bound to layer its complexities in time. Or so he hoped. "It sure was. Though I suppose the term 'difficult' is relative, isn't it? Rarely do we speak of who made the already difficult times all the more so -- and who paid the price." his words could easily constitute treason. Speaking ill of those in power, of the way they conducted their affairs, was a downright stupid move, though if he were to share such opinions with anyone -- a Velaryon was his best bet.

After all, what could any of them pass on, that he could not easily deny?

"I would not dare speak ill of our Queens hospitality, though 'm afraid the city's charms have been lost on me. It is but a mixture of stone and steel and piss and poverty. There are much, much finer places to be." on any other day, his view of the place might've been more positive. But knowing this was now his home, knowing this is where he would spend most of his days, made him feel like a lion trapped in a cage, forced to perform tricks in a circus made to entertain masters and clowns alike. Pitiful existence. Displeasure hard to contain. "I do hope your impressions of the city have been better thus far, my lady. First time?"

Jae gazed up at the man, immediately recognizing him as a Lannister by not only the color of his hair, but his expression and attitude. It took a little bit of effort to fight the smirk that threatened to appear on her face. It must be Varyn. She'd heard rumors about him.

"I suppose you're right," she said graciously, nodding her head, still maintaining a pleasant smile. "We're lucky the children are fed and happy enough to be screaming. It was a difficult winter." Practiced compliance; rehearsed gratitude. She had a happy suspicion Lord Lannister wouldn't provide her the same.

"You don't seem too glad to be back in King's Landing. Do you prefer the comforts of home over the hospitality of the queen?" She tilts her chin up, eyes glinting just a little.

[prodixal]

Whenever Varyn so much as thought of Kings Landing, his face would grimace at the stench of piss that the place exuded. It could not be avoided, not even in the ridiculously extravagant gardens which were now overflowing with food and festive decor and the abundance of Lords and Ladies in their finest garments.

He found relief only in fact that nose blindness was a real and true phenomenon, and he would soon be used to the stench, and his stomach would no longer turn at the sight of food, and wine would ease his nerves as he continued to navigate the many festivities the royals have no doubt had in store.

While on the lookout for any of his many siblings, most of which he hadn't seen since his arrival, or years prior to that, his sight fell upon a lady whose mere presence sparked curiosity he could not clench by mere observation. To be a Velaryon in the mouth of a beast trying to devour it, was no easy feat and he was thoroughly impressed by the others composure -- uncertain whether or not such a calm presence indicated foolishness and lack of basic understanding of current politics, or simply a cautious and well composed facade.

"I've a quiet step. Or so I've been told. Not that it matters, you'd have likely missed steps of a giant on the account of this poor excuse for a bard." the music was horrid, but it was the chatter of the crowd, the many passing whispers and the screaming children running about, that threw whatever modicum of talent the bard had possessed, straight out the window.

"I do apologise for startling you, I can assure it was not my intention." he throws a bite-sized cupcake into his mouth, practically breathing it in before continuing. "Beautiful." he'll repeat the word back, look around eyes narrowed. "Seems a bit on the nose if you ask me. Though I cannot complain. Much better we are here with more than we need, than over there --" he nods toward the walls of the keep. "Starving."

Status: Open Location: The Red Keep, Gardens

Jaenara Velaryon felt sick to her stomach the moment she arrived at the Red Keep. But, like the rest of her family, she was able to put on a face and act as if she wouldn't burn the entire castle down if given the opportunity. She dressed in one of her finest dresses, ensured her hair was styled in the latest fashion, and she'd allowed the leadership of Westeros to swallow her whole.

The welcoming feast in the gardens was beautiful, if not extremely garish in the face of a nation beset by suffering. Jaenara was amongst the first to wander into the area, having slipped away from her infuriatingly cloying parents, wanting to get a better understanding of what all they'd be in for during the festivities.

She moved about the central table, almost on fire with all of the candles lit, her fingers brushing along the tops of the chairs. Her gaze snapped to the right when she heard movement, a practiced smile appearing on her face.

"You startled me, I didn't see you there," she greeted with a laugh. "It's nice to see the effort put in before the crowd leaves it a mess at the end of the night. Isn't it beautiful out here?"