[D5 EM] Interaction: A Late Arrival

[Lord Bromley Meadows]

The day is ushered in with the cacophony of hoofbeats, the rattling of men in armour, the clatter of their weapons. The size of the retinue made it impossible not to draw attention; at it’s head, proud atop a dark liver destrier, Ser Olymer Tyrell.

Servants and guards scurry about as the column reaches the broad stone steps leading to Grassfield Keep’s Great Hall. The massive wooden doors are dragged open, and Lord Meadows, a mantle of fur about his shoulders to ward off the early morning chill, stepped outside. At his side, his son, Elwood.

“Lord Tyrell,” the older man bowed, stiffly, “we were not expecting you. You honour us with your presence.”

[Lord Olymer Tyrell]

Surrounded by green banners bearing the golden rose of his house, Olymer dismounted from his dark liver steed and made his way up the large marble steps, scrubbed clean of even the faintest trace of the death that had happened there so recently. He bowed, "M'Lord, I pray forgiveness for my gross tardiness, I had hoped to arrive several days ago."

[Alicent Feyther]

At the sound of hoofbeats, Alicent thought she was still dreaming at first, they were so similar. Realizing this was not the case, that this was happening in reality, she dressed quickly in what she'd planned to wear for the way, a relatively form-hugging dark blue dress with an attached thin cloak of a lighter color. She scanned the men. Some part of her expected one to be riding a white horse, despite knowing it was ridiculous to expect that. The last time it had been a coincidence and hadn't even gone down the way it had seemed. Even then, it was probably all some symbolic nonsense... there wouldn't literally be a man on a white horse... would there?

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Atop a white mount, its grey nose revealling it was not true white, though its eyes were most certainly blue, was a young knight bearing colours similar to the Lord at the head of the column. His hair was dark, and his arms featured a black stripe down the centre behind the golden rose.

His eyes were drawn to Alicent, her stunning gown, her silvery hair. The man stroked the horse’s neck absently as the Lords exchanged pleasantries.

[Kylie Redwyne]

Kylie and Claryssa headed out early that morning which was fortuitous. The large gold and green banners meant one thing: family! Claryssa stayed back as Kylie approached both men with a large smile. "Cousins! Olymer, Lorent; I didn't know you'd be here! I thought you were staying at Highgarden this year."

Claryssa had noticed Alicent and was going to her when she noted the looks she and the Tyrell were exchanging. She asked with a certain stealth, "Would you like me to introduce you?"

[Mariessa Tremaine]

Having heard the sounds of something going on, Mari approached to see what was going on, and was surprised when she saw the familiar banners of the Tyrells! She almost regretted not wearing her finest, even if she was still well-dressed, and she hurried with as much decorum as she could muster.

Seeing that the Meadows would be busy recieving the arrivals, she inched nearer to the familiar face of Alicent.

[Alicent Feyther]

Alicent's eyes went a little wide and met the young knight on the white horse's eyes with her violet ones. There it was... and of course, her mind saw fit to remind her right then of the other aspect of the dream. The roses. Her fingers run through her wavy hair a little nervously, and she looked down, though not before a slight blush became apparent. It was just in time for Kylie to approach, saving her in some ways.

When Claryssa spoke, she swallowed a little. "Um... I suppose... Perhaps later... Kylie and Lord Bromley are speaking to them right now, after all..." That damn dream put her off her stride. True dreams didn't really happen, did they? Apparently they did for her... what to make of that was something else entirely.

She waved at Mari as she got close.

[Ser Lorent Tyrell]

Lorent’s eyes reluctantly dragged away from the mystery woman with the violet eyes as he put on a smile for this ‘cousin’ he could recall having ever met. He gave a polite bow from his saddle.

[Lord Bromley Meadows]

Bromley’s lined face was stern as Kylie approached, fool girl never thinks before she speaks. She’s going to be no end of trouble until she’s rightly married.

[Ser Elwood Meadows]

“Better late than never,” Elwood bowed, “we welcome you to Grassfield Keep, please, join us in the Hall, we shall partake of bread and salt. And my sister will be with us momentarily.”