[b][color=7B68EE][center][h1]Food, Wine & Flirting: Part I[/h1][/center][/color][/b][hr]

Below a midday sun, the Redwyne pavilion continued to attract a fast growing crowd. Knights still donning their armor, nobles in their finest and travelers from across Westeros had found their way to drink and make merry. Groups were spilled outside the pavilion which had by now, filled far beyond capacity, though none seemed to mind. The wine still poured, and the atmosphere was lively with the sounds of cheers, songs and boisterous laughter. Amidst this, the young pair of Loreon and Nyla had found space at the edge of a table. They sat beside one another, rather than across, and shared the table with a group they had so-far managed to avoid interaction with beyond a few glances and smiles. Perhaps it was improper that the two sat so close. Loreon didn’t care. 

They were enjoying their second round of Arbor Reds, with a third drink on the table before them, too, but not a goblet of wine - instead, it was a delicate and wide glass with clear liquid. A ‘dornish kiss’, or so they had been told when the wine-pourer insisted they also take a glass. They had agreed to share it between them, a strategy that was from now to be employed on all unique offerings at the pavilion bars.[color=ff3333] "You ought to try it first, you’re braver than me."[/color], he spoke through a grin while raising a goblet to his lips. The wine was going down well, and their promise of pacing themselves seemed weaker by the goblet. The pair had spent the time till now catching up on their lives, and Nyla had no shortage of courtly gossip to spill. 

[color=gold]"I'm only brave because you are by my side."[/color] She grinned before pulling the glass closer. It smelled like her childhood. Like water gardens and orange groves and the hot beating sun. Not home though. Dorne had not been her home for a long time. Eyeing Loreon, she shot him a playful smile.[color=gold] "If I die, you can't have my dresses."[/color] Nyla laughed before taking a generous drink. She felt a warmth spread throughout her body, racing across her skin, all the way to her fingertips and her toes. Her nose scrunched up at the strong hit of alcohol, ruining any attempt to appear unfazed. 

A new bard, one she did not recognise, had begun strumming a jaunty tune, darting about the crowd as his voice began to rise over the exuberant chatter. How much she wished to dance. She laughed once more, eyes lighting up at the lively ballad before holding out the glass to her companion.[color=gold] "I believe it's your turn Ser Loreon."[/color]

Accepting the drink, the pair took the discreet opportunity to press their hands against one another. Her skin was soft to the touch, warm and unblemished by the labours of life - but, as were Loreon’s. Unlike many of his counterparts, swordplay was yet to leave his hands coarse or callused, and the blessings of youth still lay upon him. As the veterans of combat in the marches would disparage, he remained a summer knight.

Swirling the drink, Loreon brought it up to his eyeline.[color=ff3333] "They say the Dornish Kiss is sweeter than the fruits of summer. Impossible to forget."[/color], he locked eyes with her thereafter, the curl of a smirk in one corner of his lips before his gaze snapped back to the drink. In one effort, he shot the remainder and set the glass down. His posture straightened immediately as the sudden warmth and strength of strong alcohol traveled through him. A contented sigh fell from his lips, as he folded his arms onto the table, leaning forward and into her.[color=ff3333] "I’ve missed this, Princess."[/color], he locked eyes with her. Emerald green against the perfect shade of her own, dark eyes.[color=ff3333] "I should have made for the capital sooner and, in future, I will."[/color] He leaned closer still,[color=ff3333] "For now? … we’ve a lot of time to make up for."[/color]

[hr]

Serenei was hounding her little brother who in turn sought refuge with Arystide and Finnegan.[color=92278f] "Manny dear, come on, play me the Star of the Summer Town, you’ve been hiding yourself from me and you know you sing better than whatever that current fool is singing."[/color]

Armand however, had no interest in pleasing his sister at the moment. He wasn’t keen on making a fool out of himself for all those people and Sissi had always been too pushy that he’d rather not give her the satisfaction of convincing him now.

Arystide and Finnegan grinned at him, shrugging their shoulders as they drank.[color=92278f] “She’s right, you know."[/color] Arystide told him.

Armand gave him a glare that told him to keep his blathering mouth shut and not give Serenei more ammunition than she already had.[color=92278f] "I am my own person and I will decide whether I am going to play or not."[/color] He told them off, brushing past Finnegan, who tried to keep his wine in his goblet by rebalancing and adjusting his posture. Arbor Red left notorious stains when spilled. Casting a warning glare at Armand, he quickly took a good swallow out of it, to avoid further dancing around.

[hr]

As the hours passed and the sun fell gradually to dusk, the low fires of braziers and torches lit the pavilion grounds which were, by now, impossibly full of drunken revelers. Wine was being spilled, dances had and rowdy laughter shared. A troupe of minstrels was performing a popular rendition of the Bear and Maiden Fair, with eager participation of the crowds at the chorus, [i]“The bear! The bear! / All black and brown and covered with hair?"[/i]. 

Sat in the same spot as they had been for hours, Nyla and Loreon found themselves in one of the less well-lit areas of the pavilion, luckily for them. Lucky it was, for the fewer who saw their present transgression, the better. Their lips were pressed against one another, Loreon’s hand at the side of her neck and his other caressing her cheek - her own arms brought around his back. The spontaneous moment, driven by wine and years of restraint, lasted only seconds but felt an eternity to both. In that fleeting moment, the noise of songs and yells was silenced, their stresses and worries cast aside. For those precious seconds, they only felt one another.

As they broke the kiss and brought their foreheads together, any continuation of the moment was rudely interrupted by a call of Loreon’s name. They acted instinctively, releasing one another and shifting to a more respectable distance, though any worry was soon eased by the figure that approached. Ser Jon Heddle - a hedge knight and friend of Loreon’s - stumbled toward them. The rest of his words were spoken in a tongue known only to the drunk, and as soon as he had appeared, he had vanished into another crowd. A quiet laugh escaped Loreon as he witnessed the spectacle, and he soon after pressed himself up from the bench, offering Nyla an arm and invitation to wander the crowd.

By the time that the sun touched the horizon and the sky lit up like dragonfire Gwen and her Aunts, along with a couple of maids, had decided to go to the Redwyne pavilion again. As Luci pointed out, they had not placed their bets on who they thought would win the contests at the tournament. Gwen had decided to take a page from her Uncle and Aunties books and lay down. Sleeping she knew that she dreamed but not what she dreamed about. Gwen smiled, chalking up to normal girlish dreams about knights in shining armor and dashing young men.

The Aunties chatted with the maids as Gwen stayed silent marking phrases that set off her curiosity. Phrases like who was looking for a wife, who had come into a title, Ser Hogg. From what Gwen could tell the knight was not looking for a wife and so rolled her eyes each time that the Aunties and maids brought him up in conversation.[color=DCD0FF][i] There is no way he is better looking than either Arystide or Ashton.[/i][/color] She blushed thinking of the two.

The pavilion occupants had swelled to at least twice, maybe thrice what it had been when Gwen had been there earlier. Looking around she saw a couple that looked as if they were deeply in love. The girl had a flowing beautiful blush dress that complimented her tanned skin. Gwen couldn’t help but compare herself to the girl. Her deep brown hair caught the colors of the candles and brought a warm glow of a golden hue. The man beside her was a handsome man and clearly taken with her. Gwen smiled and cleared her throat.[color=DCD0FF] "Hello."[/color] Granted it was simple but sometimes to meet new people, one she might be distantly related to if his belt was anything to go by.

As Gwen spoke, Nyla suddenly stopped in place, halting the pair's slow meander over towards the throng of dancers.[color=gold] "Oh hello?"[/color] She chimed back, mimicking the woman's greeting albeit with a greater, and decidedly intoxicated, enthusiasm.
People swum by them, each party too absorbed in their own enjoyment to pay attention to that of others. It was only the bard's music and the promise of more wine that led them in any meaningful direction at all. Some, despite this, had still managed to end up on the floor. 

Equally oblivious to any outside their small circle, Nyla's dark brown eyes roamed over the strangers face. It did not concern her that they had not met before and she was not the type to worry over the proper formalities or civilities.[color=gold] "I don't think we have met before..."[/color] Nyla smiled.[color=gold] "But you are very beautiful! If you don't mind me saying. Though I already said it, so I suppose it's too late..."[/color] She gushed happily, a hand still resting easily against Loreon's upper arm. Her face was flushed pink, possibly from alcohol or possibly from their earlier indiscretions. Both were most likely to be the case. 

Gwen blushed at the compliment.[color=DCD0FF] "Well someone as beautiful as yourself would be the authority on beauty. We have not been introduced sadly, but let me rectify that. My name is Gwendolyn Carmyne. My friends call me Gwen."[/color] She turned to her Aunties.[color=DCD0FF] "This is my Aunt Luci Carmyne."[/color] Luci smiled sweetly and nodded. Gwen then turned to indicate her other Aunt.[color=DCD0FF] "And this is my Aunt Quinn Carmyne. We are all of House Carmyne of Redfield."[/color] Looking back and forth between the couple she finished with,[color=DCD0FF] "I am the daughter of Mina Carmyne née Lefford and Bram Carmyne."[/color] 

The smile took on a self deprecating twist.[color=DCD0FF] "Not that you'd have cause to note it. I'm afraid that I don't know my cousins on my mother's side as well due to being a Ward of House Stark."[/color]

Loreon couldn’t place House Carmyne, but vaguely recognised the name. So many nobles, how could he be blamed for failing to keep track? Instead, his attention was caught by mention of the Starks.[color=ff3333] "A ward of House Stark?"[/color], he asked wryly.[color=ff3333] "Pray tell what grievous sins you are guilty of, to have deserved such a wretched fate."[/color] He couldn’t mask the faint, condescending laugh. Nyla squeezed at his arm subtly, encouraging him to play nice.

[color=ff3333]“I know the Leffords."[/color], he spoke through the shadow of a smirk that still remained.[color=ff3333] "Lucky thing that you haven’t inherited their looks."[/color] Inclining his head thereafter, the knight finally introduced himself.[color=ff3333] "Loreon Lannister."[/color] 

Nyla was unable to suppress a giggle as her companion spoke of the Starks.[color=gold] "So cruel Loreon."[/color] She quipped teasingly before turning to address Gwen once more.[color=gold] "Do you not miss the sun in the north? I think I would be very sad without it! Even Kings Landing is not hot enough for my liking."[/color] The young girl shrugged her shoulders lightly.[color=gold] "Though I suppose that is a given for anyone born of Dorne….I'm Nyla Martell, by the way."[/color] She added as an afterthought. 

Arystide couldn’t help but circle around the tent, spotting familiar knights, lords and certainly their ladies. Here and there he joked with lowly hedge knights and caused quite a ruckus when he asked an elderly lady for a dance, much to the chagrin of her drinking husband. Still aside from the silent threats, the Lord remained seated and Arystide behaved like a perfect host, his eyes catching sight of his sister dropping herself in Tyrell’s lap and seeing Armand enter with a young lady at his arm. Hightower? The spin had been too quickly to have noticed the sigil.

Still as he ended the dance, kissing the lady’s hand and thanking her for graciously accompanying him on the dancefloor, she in turn slapped his arm, stating he was a handsome devil that would one day be the bane of his lady. Arystide bowed to her before retreating like a grinning madman. A flash of red caught his eye. Instinctually he perked up, seeing the familiar face of the fair Lady Gwen Carmyne. With her stood the bronzed skin of what could only be a Dornish Lady, a Martell if his eyes did not deceive him and rather close to her was the familiar blonde of Lannister Lions.
Though this one was…this wasn’t the heir…then he had to be the second son and tourneyknight. If anything it was all the same to Arystide as a grin graced his lips.
‘Time to have some fun.’ He thought as he approached them.

[color=92278f]“Well, well, well, what a merry party we have here, hmm?"[/color] He asked, slapping Loreon on the shoulder with a little more weight using it to come between them.[color=92278f] “I thought I smelled Blood Oranges…or was it Lemons? Anyway…the sweet perfume of Dorne as always rises to the occasion."[/color] He said before taking Nyla’s hand and kissing it. 

[color=92278f]“I hope the man has not mistreated you, fair ladies."[/color] He said winking at Gwen as he released Nyla’s hand and moved over to her. 

[color=92278f]“I haven’t had the pleasure of dancing with you yet, my Crimson Lady."[/color] He stated, taking her hand in his and kissing it as well, though this time on the inside of her wrist.

[color=92278f]“I am sorry sweet lady Martell, but alas I have but one pair of arms and one pair of feet. Whilst I would gladly offer you a dance as well, I am certain his blonde Lordship would not approve. Why as he glares at me I can only hope for you that the Lion proves less sour of a puss in when he kisses you."[/color] He asked with a good deal of cheek, grinning like a mad cat.

Gwen's blush deepened and her breath caught as Arystide kissed the inside of her wrist. She swallowed and cleared her throat smiling.[color=DCD0FF] "Captain behave."[/color] She allowed him to keep her wrist but stayed her ground rather than moving to his arms. Gwen quickly realized how awkward it would be to have her wrist captured while ignoring Arystide. 

Fighting not to blush at the racing of her pulse when Arystide placed his lips there. Gwen was losing beautifully, and decidedly ignoring the awkwardness as she addressed Loreon.[color=DCD0FF] "Thank you for the compliment My Lord. My grandmother always said that I took after distant cousins. I assumed it was on my mother's side. Possibly very distant relations. I don't believe I have committed any grievous sins. My parents are dead and my grandmother was a Stark so perhaps it is that?"[/color]

Turning her head toward Nyla and grinning, Gwen stated.[color=DCD0FF] "We still see the sun in the North. But the sight of sparkling snow is worth all the cold."[/color]

[color=ff3333]“Both parents dead, [i]and[/i] sent to the North? The Gods don’t like you, do they. It’s a wonder you haven’t followed your parents. I would, if I was cursed to that frozen waste."[/color] Loreon didn’t bother to inquire to the fate of her late parents. In truth, he didn’t much care - nor did he care for the redhead that had thrown himself into conversation with less grace than an auroch, who he had opted simply to ignore. The redhead was, in fact, a prime example of why he was never fond of socializing. Most people were just insufferable. 

He ran a hand through his hair idly, with a look about for the nearest wine counter. That was their plan after all, before they found themselves intercepted. Now, his prospects had fallen from more wine - and whatever else - with Nyla, to being a prisoner of smalltalk. The Gods were cruel. 

[color=ff3333]“And, I’m not a Lord. That’s my father."[/color], he offered with some condescension. The kind reserved for northerners. His gaze moved slowly to Arystide, who was still clutching her wrist.[color=ff3333] "… what was that about no sins? Seems our [i]Crimson Lady’s[/i] just found one."[/color] 

Arystide kept a close eye on the Lannister, smiling politely. If the little snark wanted a fight he would give him one.[color=92278f] "Assuredly, now you say so, I see you’re neither the old Lion nor his heir. Which brings you into my territory, a second son."[/color] He moved over to Gwen’s side, partly to put himself between them and also give himself some space should things turn ugly.

Turning first to Gwen again gently turning his grip to hold her hand tenderly in his.
[color=92278f]“Please my lady, for you I would sail to the far ends and bring you the sun. But I beg of thee, a dance tonight. So people know, this poor, lucky sinner caught the notice of a star from the heavens."[/color] He spoke gently to her giving her his full attention and kissing her knuckles again, before lowering her hand a little so she could pull hers free if she so desired. His expression hardened, the smile turned sharper as he turned to Loreon, giving back what he received, without fear.

[color=92278f]“Still, one would expect some polite conversation, no matter whether one is capable or not."[/color] He spoke with an air of lighthearted indulgence, before his tone of voice slowly grew more menacing, carefully balanced shifting from carefree to severe for those that paid attention.[color=92278f] "I see you seem to find it particularly hard. Offering them naught but a slashing of your sour temper and veiled pretenses. Is it the lack of wine? Or are you suffering from painful bowel movements? Which I imagine can be tough if there is truth in your saying: ‘Lannisters shitting gold’."[/color] He clapped back, his eyes had turned as sharp as a sword edge and the glare in his eyes was prevalent, while his smile remained. 

[color=92278f]“Is that why you are so desperately glancing around? If you need directions, I am more than happy to oblige, wouldn’t want to cause a scene now would we? Not in front of the fair ladies."[/color]

At the mention of fair ladies Nylas attention was pulled back to the small party. It had not taken her long to become disinterested in the tense back and forth. Yet she did not deign to add to the conversation, simply offered a yawn and stretched her arms languidly above her head. It was men like this that made Loreons forthrightness ever more appealing. She did not care for silver-tongued speeches that, at least in her admittedly very limited experience, hid the true character lying underneath. There were many [i]many[/i] men at Kings Landing who were full of soft and beautiful words. There were fewer still who seemed truly kind.

[color=gold]"I'm bored, Loreon. Will you come and dance with me? Or shall we get some more wine?"[/color] She finally announced, firmly taking a hold of his hand. The warmth of his skin next to hers was pleasant and she found that she would be happy to not let go for a while.[color=gold] "It was lovely to meet you Gwen. We should sit besides one another at the Tourney on the morrow. I think I would like to hear more about Winterfell and its sparkling snow."[/color] The young Martell shot her a bright smile before disappearing into the crowd, pulling the Lion along with her. 

The tension between the men was thick enough to choke. Gwen tilted her head at Arystide.[color=DCD0FF][i] He is being rather protective. Not that I mind but I don't fancy a fight. Besides, drinking makes tongues lose and inhibitions even looser. I came to help Gryffith and place wagers with my Aunties on behalf of Uncle Tobias for the House. Eye on the target. Speak to Honora. Place wagers. Then a dance or two won't hurt anything. Right?[/i][/color]

Squeezing Arystide's hand that was holding hers, Gwen smiled at him. Nyla yawned and spoke up inviting Gwen to sit with her during the tournament. Gwen catching Nyla's eye nodded eagerly, smiling as the beautiful Dornish girl spoke.