03.15.3014: Let's Start Over
Summary: Chiron and Cyrielle try to meet in the middle. They decide maybe it's better to start from scratch.
Date: 07 12 13
Related: Not the Lunch Expected
Chiron Cyrielle 

Tavern, Beacon, The Spine
See Log
Saturday, March 15 3014

After the way lunch had gone, Cyrielle felt there may be a need to further understand and perhaps be understood. She sent Chiron a message, letting him know they should chat sometime. She even offered to foot the bill- it's only proper. Or easier, as she's offered to meet in a tavern near the Beacon docks. Despite the name — The Gutted Fish — and the general cliche that goes with sailors and taverns… it's a fairly nice place. Posted up on the docks themselves with a view over the ocean, entrances at all sides, and even outdoor seating. The windows and doorways are broad and open, letting the balmy breeze circulate through under the heavy faux-lumber that makes up the building. Sturdy chairs and tables are arranged in seeming haphazard groupings and the upright beams help separate off different sections. Small - electronic, but made to appear real - fireplaces crackle, providing a comfortable counterpoint to the sometimes chilled breeze.

It's by one of these fires that Cyrielle waits. The woman is wearing a few layered, asymmetrical skirts, cut at odd angles and some a lace or netting; almost like layers of fishing nets one upon the other. They're various hues of grey and blue, with the ocassional brown thrown in. Her top is a banded thing of black that fits snug to her form, leaving arms bare. This only serves to show her color-shifting tattoos all the more. A coat with many buckles is hung on a hook by the fire itself and as she waits, she fusses absently at the end of a braid draped over her shoulder.

Chiron shows up right on time. He's wearing a nice white silk shirt with a brown vest. The pockets and edges accentuated in gold. On his right breast pocket is a small pin of the Peake crest all in gold. On top of that is his green, hooded cloak. Spotting Cyrielle right away he walks over towards her, tilting his head slightly at her wardrobe choice. He smiles absently before realizing he's been staring a little too long. "Lady Cyrielle." Chiron says, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. "It's nice to see you agani."

When the Hollolas looks to the Quellton squire as he approaches, her gaze lingers for a moment as well. However, it's upon that pin upon his breast. Her jaw tightens briefly before relaxing as she sits up somewhat straighter. There's a gesture to summon one of the servers, though she already has a glass of something or another before her. This isn't Mott's; you can order practically any drink you desire. They may not have specific brands, but they'll have the style.

"Chiron," she offers, eyebrows rising slightly at the second part of his greeting. "Is that truth, or a mere pleasantry? I'm aware that we went our separate ways the other day on… less than ideal terms." Cyrielle bites into her lip then, glancing to the table's surface. The young woman tries, but she wasn't raised for the diplomacy and noble stature that others may hold with. She's not in a wheelchair today, but a pair of gleaming white crutches do sit within view. "I don't know what I did, but… I wanted to make ammends somehow."

Chiron orders an ale, it's simple. He sighs when she asks him the first question. "What kind of question is that?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. "If I asked you that question, what would you say?" he asks, a little thrown by the question. He sighs after a second, then speaks again. "I'm… sorry. I've been under a lot of stress recently with training and the state that my family is in right now." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "I'm sory for my outburst… It was uncalled for."

"Hm." Cyrielle is quiet a moment, turning her glass — some sort of mixed drink — on the table's surface a few times. "I often forget you Quelltons are much more… well, you're not as blunt as I'm used to. You're more fragile than some Vale nobles." The last is offered with an upward twitch of her lips and a glance upward, mild mischief showing in those dark eyes. "If you asked me a question like that, I'd give you the answer." She shrugs.

"It's alright. I just expect those more from your sister than you." Or Bey, but Cyrielle's learned enough not to bring up his name much. If at all. "I know you don't like Ephraim. I'm not fond of Lorelei, myself. I feel as if she… doesn't care at all about family. At least about Ephraim's family… and I think that's a cruelty to him. A person shouldn't say they love someone and yet… care so little about that person's background." She gives a bit of a shrug. "But I also know I'm just afraid of losing him. As I'm sure you're afraid of losing her."

Chiron takes a deep breath, deciding to not let his "frailty" show. Ah, screw it. "What gives?" He asks her, finally. "Sparrow doesn't like you because you say shit like that. Do you ever listen to yourself? You've not only managed to insult me, but you've managed to insult my sister as well. How can you say you want to make ammends, then turn around and make jabs like that?" He sighs out of frustration. "She doesn't feel like you've ever really given her a chance. To be fair, the first few encounters that you've had with her havn't gone over very well."

There's a furrowing of Cyrielle's brows. "How have I insulted you? Or your sister? How is it any different from your complaints about my brother? Or is it acceptable to be cruel to everyone except the Quelltons?" She lifts her drink and takes a sip. "The only thing wrong I did to your sister was a comment I made while drunk and upset. I've apologized for it multiple times, but she seems to prefer to hold it against me." Shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "The only other time I've done something I suppose she could hate me for is halt my brother trying to propose to her while she was in tears over something or another."

Another drink and Cyrielle drains the glass. "He hadn't even spoken to your father yet and in the open, while the girl is crying? Not the best way to propose. He didn't even have anything to give her. So I offered to work with him on a proper letter to our father, a proper betrothal… I may not approve of them or the fact that a part of me fears she will make him leave his family and noble title for her, but I love my brother and I will support him in his wishes."

Chiron huffs again, getting more and more frustrated before throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't know anymore. I hear half things from Lorelei, Balius hasn't spoken to me in a rather long time, you've insinuated that I'm in the wrong and are fragile. I've got plenty of reasons to be angry and upset. I feel like I'm loosing my grip on all of my family and everything is spinning out of control." He takes a drink of his ale finally, deciding it's best to drink it before it gets too warm.

Glass is slid to the edge of the table as Chiron speaks, an eyebrow rising. A subtle signal to the server for a refill, once they pass by. "How did I insinuate that you're fragile? You stormed out the other day and it surprised me, yes. In the wrong? Mm… Maybe only in directing your ire about Bey at me." Without anything to occupy her hands, Cyrielle sets to fussing with the napkin that was folded neatly on the table's surface.

"Look, I don't know why I've seen Bey more than you. I didn't request or demand his time. He stopped by while I was stuck in a hospital room, waiting for my leg to be recovered enough to leave." Cyrielle glances down to her hands now, shoulders rounding. Almost vulnerable herself. "I appreciated his company, as a friend. That's all. If you're upset that he's spent more time with me than you, you should talk to him about it. I didn't know about that until lunch the other day."

"I said I was /sorry/ for that." Chiron says his hands fly up in the air some, obviously frustrated. "There's just a lot going on, I'm sorry I took my frustration out on you, you just… pushed the right buttons is all, I guess." He sighs, almost in defeat. "I just don't know what to do anymore. My family is falling apart, and I can't do anything about it."

"I know you did," Cyrielle murmurs, moving shoulders in a shrug. "It was the only think I could think of having insinuated you were in the wrong." The woman draws in a long breath through her nose before letting it out slowly through parted lips. She's alternating between watching him and watching the napkin she fiddles with. A girl passes and takes up her drink, after refilling Chiron's mug from a pitcher.

"I'm beginning to fear it's part of growing up. Fiona's always away at sea, it seems. I can't remember the last time I spoke to the twins and… well, I only ever see Ephraim with Lorelei and you've seen how that goes." Cyrielle wrinkles her nose somewhat. "And he's so tied up in her that when there was mention of the Quelltons doing something together, he assumed he was involved as well and wanted to make a big deal of it. He came to visit me once, at Willowtree. Only person in my family who did."

Chiron is silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "I'm sorry to hear that… For what it's worth, I don't hate Ephraim. He just… is young and reckless. I don't like wondering when the next time I'm going to find my sister hidden up in the Stable loft crying because Ephraim said something stupid to her or was caught with another woman." He takes another drink of the ale, finishing off about half of it before putting it down.

He places a hand over his face, rubbing his temples lightly, taking a deep breath. "I don't know how to fix things, but you're right. Ephraim and Lorelei aren't going anywhere. How can we fix this?"

"I'm fairly certain he hasn't been with any other women since he took up with Lorelei," Cyrielle says, perhaps bristling faintly. Still, she keeps it from bubbling over too much. Even if her hands do grip that napkin a bit tighter. "He says stupid things and he doesn't mean them half the time. If your sister plans to be with him, she needs to get used to that."

Finally, her refreshed drink is brought and she lets go of the napkin to wrap hands around it, instead. "Search me," Cyrielle says finally, slouching back in her chair slightly. "I'm just… hoping I don't lose my brother. I don't think your sister quite comprehends that even if she becomes his Companion, the chances are still very likely that he'll be put into a political marriage with another noblewoman. The only way to keep that from happening… is if he disowns his family and becomes a citizen. I don't want that and… well, you and your family can all hate me for it if you wish, but I don't think it's fair of her to not consider his duties to his family."

"Wait… You think Ephraim would disown his family to be with my sister?" Chiron says, sounding surprised and slightly confused. "Ephraim has family loyalty though, doesn't he? Have you spoken to him about your concerns?" He takes another drink of ale. "My sister knows what Ephraim must do, and while she doesn't like it, she knows that he will have to take a wife. She's told me on more then one occasion that she knows she can't 'have a happy ending', as it were." Or, at least that was what she told him last, it's been a while sense they spoke about Ephraim and her.

Chiron drinks some more of his ale, rubbing his face again. "Look… I don't know what I can do. I'm still not exactly sure what you want from me. I… think we got off on the wrong foot…" Shit, that was probably a bad choice of words. "Can we start again?" He asks, casting her a friendly smile.

"He… I don't know. He's loyal to us, as a family, but… to his duties as a noble?" Cyrielle's brow furrows. "I don't know. We haven't discussed it… As for a happy ending?" She can't help it; there's a slight roll of her eyes. "Political marriages happen. Children are expected. Who knows, maybe he'll wed someone who doesn't care if his Companion's children are made legitamate. And there's scientific ways of conceiving children now. In theory, Lorelei could still have him all to herself, I just… I'm afraid of him doing something stupid for her."

Her own hand rises to press the heel of palm against her eye. Cyrielle lets out a long sigh, before lifting her drink for a long sip. If his choice of wording is wrong, it doesn't show; she's smirking as she lowers the glass. "Sure."

Chiron has plenty of things he could say, none of them helpful. Instead, he takes a deep breath, clearing his mind. "Thank you, Lady Cyrielle, for inviting me to eat lunch with you this evening. Are you doing well today?" He asks, his tone seems genuine. He grabs the menu, glancing at it briefly before quickly deciding on something. "How are the fish and chips here?" He asks her, giving her a half smile

There's a slight twitch of lips, but Cyrielle rolls with it. "Of course, Squire Chiron. I'm quite well." She's not quite laughing, but close. Instead she distracts herself with a long sip of her drink. Eyes close slightly as it warms her throat and belly on the way down. When they open, she glances across towards the menu he holds.

"Depends on the fish of the day, but usually… yes." Cyrielle reaches for a menu herself, setting her glass aside. "And how is your training coming along?"

"Not well, actually." Chiron sighs, taking another drink of his ale. "Lady Sir Agnes has been absent, off with her new husband. I still need to do training, however. So, I've been doing what I can without my knight. She says I'm close… but I'm starting to feel stuck." His eyes look downwards toward the table, glancing at his half empty ale. "That's a bit part of my frustration. I just feel stuck, you know?" He looks up at her, his eyes almost depressed looking.

There's a shift of jaw as Cyrielle chews at the inside of her cheek for a moment. Finally, the woman offers a small shrug. "I'm afraid I'm not sure what to suggest," she says finally. Her drink is picked up and the menu set down, indicating a readiness to order. After a sip, she glances across to the Quellton again. "I… know another who seems to be in a similar place. Has Sir Agnes had other squires before? Perhaps she doesn't quite know yet what she's doing herself. There's… a learning curve, I'm sure."

Tapping a finger lightly against the menu, Cyrielle glances off towards the fire. "I myself have a conundrum as of late. I don't know where I'll go once I'm walking properly again. Do I return to my naval training, to become a Captain in the Hollolas fleet? Or… do I find a new path?"

There's a shift of jaw as Cyrielle chews at the inside of her cheek for a moment. Finally, the woman offers a small shrug. "I'm afraid I'm not sure what to suggest," she says finally. Her drink is picked up and the menu set down, indicating a readiness to order. After a sip, she glances across to the Quellton again. "I… know another who seems to be in a similar place. Has Sir Agnes had other squires before? Perhaps she doesn't quite know yet what she's doing herself. There's… a learning curve, I'm sure."

Tapping a finger lightly against the menu, Cyrielle glances off towards the fire. "I myself have a conundrum as of late. I don't know where I'll go once I'm walking properly again. Do I return to my naval training, to become a Captain in the Hollolas fleet? Or… do I find a new path?"

"She's had plenty of other squires, she is… or was, rather, a Knight Lieutenant for house Peake before marrying Young Lord Sir Jarek. They have been on honeymoon for quite some time." When the waitress returns, Chiron orders the Fish and Chips and requests another ale, his eyes darting to Cyrielle, curious to see what she chooses.

"Well…" He says, placing the tips of his fingers on his right hand to the ones on his right. "Well, do you have a new path in mind? Or does becoming a Captain in the Hollolas Fleet not sound like something you want anymore?

"Have you sent her a message? Or made a request of… are you still considered beholden to Peake, or would it be Saimhann now?" Cyrielle isn't quite sure how that works. Her order is for wine, to replace the stronger drinks she's been having, some sort of crab dip and bread as an appetizer, and a grilled fish for herself.

Dark eyes slide back to the man on the opposite side of the table as the serving girl departs and little of the mirth from before is in them. They're more matte; focused, dark. "I don't know. I want to help people, but I don't know how. Or where. Would being a Captain serve me well in that regard, or just serve my reputation and House?"

"I am Saimhann now, actually. Not that I particularly have any loyalty there. I swore my oaths to House Peake when I became a squire." Chiron shrugs, not sure what else to say. "I imagine when they've finished their honeymoon stuff it'll be more normal. It's just been… a rather long time."

His eyes meet hers, catching the mirth. His have a gleam of worry or sadness. "Well, start with your strengths. What are you good at? What do you like to do? I generally find if you are good at and like something, you're more inclined to be good at that thing."

There's another glance to the pin of Peake. "I can see as such," Cyrielle offers; stated as just that. A statement. She belies little feeling one way or the other. "I know how it can feel, being too long from your training." A slight frown and she picks up her drink, downing the rest of it.

Once eyes open again, renewed from the burn of the liquor, some of their shine is back. There's not the usual mirth, no. She has a lot of sadness herself. Darkness, even. "I don't know." It's an honest answer. "It would seem… I am good with my Awakened abilities. Better than Lord Nitrim, even, and I had thought he more trained than I, yet… I bested him in a training exercise."

"Do you like using your awakened abilities? Perhaps they could use you on the battlefield." Chiron gestures a hand to her, almost as an offering. "Or, I guess there are other uses for Awakened abilities as well." He retracts his hand. "I don't know how much you want to help in combat." He scratches the back of his head, catching the sadness and darkness in her eyes. "Are you ok… Cyrielle?" He asks her sincerely.

There's a shift of the woman's eyes to the offered hand and her brow furrows briefly. "I do," Cyrielle says finally, exhaling in a slow breath. "The… battlefield is new to me. I spent so long just learning control. Learing… how to benefit the land and those around me." She leans back as the appetizer — crab dip, with bread — she ordered arrives.

The young woman also receives her wine, nodding in appreciation to the server. She looks towards Chiron again, lips pressing into a bit of a line at his question. "My apologies… I suppose your feeling of being stuck reminded me of mine."

"The battlefield… is a chaotic place. Cape Amran… I thought I was ready. When I stepped though the way gate, I knew I was ready. When I got there… the death… I watched a girl younger then my sister be cut down by hostiles before my eyes." His eyes glaze over slightly, as if replaying the event in his mind. After a few seconds he returns to the present with a shake of his head. "I almost died there. Took some pretty bad wounds to the chest. Everyone told me that I should be happy, that this was a good thing. We saved people. But, all I can think, all I can hear are this girls screams for help."

Taking a deep breath, Chiron offers her a brief smile. "Sorry… I got carried away. Don't apologize, this… is a good conversation. My question still stands though, are you alright?"

"That's the reason Bey visits, I think," Cyrielle says after a long moment in which she holds no answer. "He was there at the resort with me. Leading the others out. We cut down… so many bodies left flayed and strung up." Her fingers curl around her wine glass and tighten against it. There's a soft sound of protest between finger and surface. "I'd never fought Hostiles before, Chiron. Never even seen them up close. Somehow… somehow… I came out with just a bruised hand. Those I was protecting came away so much worse…"

The glass is lifted and the liquid within drained. Cyrielle sets it down and leans forward, an elbow on the table as her face falls into her palm. Hand over eyes, her words are only barely muffled by her arm in the way. "I want to fight because I don't want anyone to suffer like those we came across. Or like those I tried to protect."

Chiron nods, knowingly. "I've not seen anyone from that fight, besides Agnes and Jarek." His eyes wander towards the waitress bringing his fish and chips. As they are sat down in front of him his mouth waters slightly. "This does looks good." He intones, hands reaching for some of the fish.

"That makes sense, my brother coming to visit you. If there were any romantic inclinations, I wouldn't be opposed. I was just… frustrated."

And in turn, Cyrielle's own meal is brought out. She leans back once it's set before her and rather than set in to it, she goes for the bread and dip as well. The plate is turned towards Chiron as she chews a bite. Indicating he's welcome to try it as well.

Once she has swallowed, Cyrielle nods slightly. "If there is… It's not on my end and I'm not aware of it. We just… we fought together, through something harrowing. It has a way of forging a bond, it seems." She draws in something of a breath, "It was suggested I perhaps locate a… Sir Jeremy. Apparently he's an Awakened-focused Knight and a ranger. I'm not sure about the path of being a squire, but perhaps he can offer me some insight as to how to use my abilities for protecting people."

Chiron takes some of the offered food and nods. "Aah, yes. Sir Jeremy. He came to meet us when we returned from Cape Amran. Sir Lionel, his husband, is one of the survivors." He smiles when the man's name is mentioned. "I believe Sparrow has spoken with him about some awakened training. A very good man to talk to, I think." He says as he takes a bit of his own food, giving her a thumbs up. It's not clear wether it's to Jeremy, or to the food.

"If you want, I can squire you if, or when, I get knighted." He says after swallowing his bite of fish, chuckling softly.

"Maybe you can serve introductions, then. I… only know of him by name. Lady Lyrienne thinks, perhaps, his form of Awakened service to the people would suit me." Cyrielle nods in appreciation as a passing server refills their drinks. She begins to tuck into her meal now, though she eats at a sedate pace.

There's a soft snort of amusement at the offer as Cyrielle lifts her wine glass. "Ah, much as I appreciate the thought… I do think our methods of fighting are vastly different enough that it wouldn't quite suit."

"I think I can manage that. I think they live in the Rovehn Caravans…" His voice trails off, his nose wrinkles in disgust as the Vale house's name passes his lips. "They are both good people, very friendly." He begins eating as well, trying to keep at the noble's pace.

"Our methods of fighting? If you squired under me, I would teach you my way." He grins, adding. "If you became a knight, you would have to learn how to use a weapon. That is, if it is knighthood you seek."

"Rovehn? I didn't know he was Valen…" Cyrielle frowns, slightly, at this news. A ranger, in the Vale? Hrm. She seems more comfortable now; most of the darkness in her mien is past, with the fading of the discussion of those dark nights and the horrors found there. At least the pace she eats at, while sedate, isn't painfully slow.

"I am a decent archer, Chiron," Cyrielle says, almost chiding. "I did not place terribly in the Tourney for Tomorrow, though I've rare fired at still targets. I'm used to hunting. And a friend has recently begun teaching me of swords… I am considering learning to use a trident, like many of my House."

"Jeremy is from the Spine, he married Lionel, who is from the Vale." Chiron reassures the Noble, noticing her frown. "I believe they both live on the Caravans, both very good men." He continues to eat, stopping himself when he realizes he's finished almost half his meal already.

"I didn't know what you were capable of. Never seen you fight, and I wasn't there for the Tourney for Tomorrow, at least not the archery contest." He says, trying to be diplomatic, a little surprised by her chiding. "I spoke with your sister, Irvette, once. She spoke very highly of the trident."

Like as not it's a personal thing, the defensiveness. From a woman who has spent so many years now being practically a cripple. Cyrielle does sigh and lifts a hand to her hair. She shrugs, faintly. "I'm sorry," she finally murmurs, staring to her food. "People tend to think I'm… incapable. Of a lot of things. I'm not, really. Just because I had a bad leg…"

She's slowing further with eating, pushing the food around on her plate more than anything else. The Hollolas breathes in a small sigh, tilting her head in a nod at mention of her sister. "The trident is the weapon of Hollolas," Cyrielle explains. "And, I suppose… since it's rather likely I'll someday marry out of my House… I would like to take as much with me as I can."

"I understand. I did not say that because of your condition. I just said that because you did not seem the type to have combat training." Chiron waves his hand, indicating all is fine. "The Trident is a fine weapon. Very unique as well."

Chiron finishes the last of his fish and chips, which were quite tasty. "Marry out of Hollolas some day? Are you marrying into a paramount house or a young lord?" He asks, tilting his head slightly. "It's also possible you'll marry someone into your house."

"Ah, well… Before the accident and my Awakening, I was in the navy, on my way to being a Captain. That has a fair bit of combat training involved, if not the same as a soldier or knight. More… command skills, at least in my case." Cyrielle seems content with how much she's eaten, shifting her plate to the side so the wine can be front and center. For the moment.

"I don't know where I'm to be wed to. My father seems… disinclined to hurry, despite options for my sister narrowing, especially." Cyrielle tilts her head slightly, "Mm. It's possible, yes. From a secondary vassal or similar. There's no telling. I'd rather be prepared."

"A captain? That's impressive." Chiron raises his eyebrows, there's more to her then he originally thought. "It's a shame about your injury, but… maybe it was for the best?" He offers, shrugging slightly.

"I've not even thought about marriage. there was a girl a few months ago…" He beings to say before frowning. "But, that didn't work out."

"Impressive?" Cyrielle, obviously, has never thought of it in such a way. Her brow furrows as she mulls that over. "I… I suppose. I never thought of it that way. It was just… where I was meant to be. On a ship. It's always felt natural." Even when she was terrified of the ocean, a part of her was called so strongly to it.

"I'm jealous sometimes," Cyrielle admits softly as she turns her wine glass. As the meal begins to wind to a close; old plates cleared, drinks refilled. Her information confirmed for payment. "You can fall in love and wed whom you please. I have to… seek permission, even if I find a Companion. And if I fall for a noble… it's such a risk whether or not it'd be allowed. Funny how the most personal aspect of our lives is the one most out of our control."

"I'm not completely out of the green. As a knight, I'm considered a minor noble. Falling in love with a noble is dangerous… just all together." Chiron says in a joking manner, but there's a hint of seriousness in his tone.

As they meal is winding down, Chiron stands up, giving the Hollolas a bow, saying his goodbye's. "Until next time, Lady Hollolas."

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