Arystide & Armand.

[b]- Maidens, Mischief and Mayhem -[/b]

“I still can’t believe you got her to agree with this…” Armand stated as he helped his brother and cousin carrying the large round table to its spot.
Arystide flashed a wicked grin at the 17 year old.
“Nene can be a harpy, but she could never deny me anything.” He told them with a rather smug confidence. 
Armand flashed him a look of concern.
“She’d better not hear you call her that…” He uttered, shifting his grip on the table as the boys manoeuvred it over to one of the other tents.
“Eh, she’ll throw a fit at first, but that’s cause she feels no one takes her seriously, but in the end she knows I am not the idiot she thinks I am.”
Finnegan couldn’t help but snicker and add.
“No, you’re far worse.”
“Exactly.” Arystide accepted proudly. “Therefore, what better way to control the loose cannon than being the one determining where you aim it. We all know this is a big deal for Dottie, so she wants us out of the way so we can’t embarrass the family during the later hours.”
Armand shook his head in concern.
“I can’t help but feel for poor Nene, having to deal with both your antics as well as Sissi and Wen’s. This should be a time they should flaunt their beauty and good looks, attracting the attention of other Houses.”
“That’s because Nene is passed her prime.”
Armand turned his neck a bit too fast groaning at the pain as he instinctually brought his hand up, releasing the table and nearly dropping it.
Finnegan and Arystide corrected quickly.
“Oi! Hands on table! Hands ON Table!” Arystide growled making Armand regrip it quickly. They got it to their designated spot and with a unified groan placed it down. 
“What did you mean, Nene is passed her prime.”
“Women, my dear little brother are like Summerwines. They’re sweet when they’re ripe, but the older they get the more sour they become. Eventually they’ll kill your liver as well as your taste for the finer things in life. Nene is an old Summerwine. She lost her sweetness. She only has the harsh sour taste left.”
“How can you say that?”
“Cause it is true.” Arystide threw back. “Most matched get set up early, the kids don’t know it, but the Mothers and Aunts do all the planning and prepping. Finding out which alliance would serve their interests best and whether or not their son or daughter would be a good match.” He grabbed one of the chairs they had gathered earlier and set it at the table, leaning on it.
“Now, the attraction stage comes the moment the little flowers starts to bloom. When they get their comely shapes and fill up their dresses.”
Armand blushed at that particular image whilst Finnegan grinned as he put a hand on his shoulder.
“But when a match isn’t found or set up, the flower withers, loses her bloom and inevitably loses her youth and beauty. It is when they usually prepare themselves mentally for spinsterhood and you get either the jealous type of behaviour turning them into harpy’s or they become as desperate as can be and will settle for any cock they can raise.” Arystide finished enjoying watching his young brother squirm at this particular topic. 
[i]He is too sensitive,[/i] Arystide believed, and it was high time he and Finnegan would take him under their wing and turn him into a proper man.
“We’ll find you a nice one don’t worry.” He promised with a wink, watching Armand squirm even harder in horror.
Finnegan meanwhile had admired and tapped the lacquered layer of the table.
“Not to put any questions on your particular taste of furniture, but….Why the Seven Hells did you pick this heavy thing anyway? We could have made due with a couple of lighter ones.”
Arystide rolled his eyes at his cousin’s foolish question.
“That way dear Nene can’t easily go back on her word, regardless of what happens.”
“Oh yes she can.” Armand cut in sharply trying to shift his thoughts from his potential first time to he large round monster between them.
It technically wasn’t even one of their usual tables, Arystide being Arystide had seen it during one of his travels and had picked it up. 
The overpriced monster had been stored belowdecks of the Arbor Queen for at least a full month, only to be remembered and brought out along with the rest of the Tournament supplies. 
“But she won’t. We’ll be out of sight and the great honourable Lord Tarly wouldn’t venture into a den of depravity such as this. He’ll head for his seat of honour, dine and drink for sake of appearance and fuck off afterwards. Meanwhile, we can excuse ourselves and have our own little party here. Pretty wenches…a good casket of Arbor ‘spiced’ Red I happened to have stowed away and I already got Little Davy to set us up with a nice brisket.” Arystide explained being the seasoned tourney-goer here.
Armand looked both impressed and horrified at the same time.
“If Nene finds out, she’ll have your head.”
“Hardly…she knows what I am. She’ll just hope I’ll be stupid enough to get myself hitched up. That way I would be out of her hair. Speaking of which…” His eyes drifted to the people outside. As the pavilion started to gather more visitors the flock of those being women increased as well.
“Giving a soft chuckle and a mischievous wink Arystide looped an arm around Armand’s neck and pulled him along.
“Let’s go little brother. We have game afoot.” He uttered with a mad grin before leaving Finnegan to finish the chairs. “Particularly that pretty little thing in the teal dress there..” He gestured with his head, picking up two goblets of Arbor wine and winking to Armand stating.
“Watch…and learn.” He stated with a smug smile, looping around the two so they would catch him in his path. Making certain he timed it just right, he turned around making sure his accidental bump spilled, making some of the wine go all over his outer vest. Wisely he had chosen a watered down Arbor Gold for the deed.
“Oh…Seven Hells.” He exclaimed in pretended shock, before feigning to notice the women. Quickly attempting to take it off.
“Begging your pardons, Ladies.” He stated with a nod. “But if it gets into my shirt I’ll stink like peaches for the rest of the Tournament.” He joked as he flashed a good deal of chest accompanied by his usual bright smile.
“I hope my clumsiness didn’t cause you any grief or stains in those beautiful dresses…Here allow me to offer you fresh cups…accompanied of course by my sincerest apology.” He stated signalling the bartender and bowing deep enough for them to catch a good glimpse of everything.
[i]The bloody bastard is playing to his strengths. His skin tanned from being outside a great deal would turn his teeth and eyes even brighter as well as compliment the long fiery locks that surpassed his shoulders. His accident would allow the women one of the rare glimpses of muscle and skin and bowing that low would certainly allow them to look further.[/i]
If Armand scoffed at the fact that his brother was seemingly getting away with most breaches of propriety and decorum.
He ordered a goblet of Arbor Red pretending to keep himself occupied as he kept a careful watch on his brother’s antics. 


[hider=Summary]Armand is amazed and horrified that Arystide managed their sister to agree to a boys table setup. They discuss women and Arystide attempts to swoop up the ladies Carmyne.[@Almalthia][/hider]