Scandal on the Stilltha Dagger

Scandal on the Stilltha Dagger
Summary: Dalyros gets very, very, very drunk and forgets he had loaned out his bed. SURPRISE!
Date: 15/June/2013
Related: None
Amira Dalyros 

Room of the Stilltha Dagger
Small room with a bed, a trunk and a dresser.
Sat Jun 15, 1329

Word has reached Amira they will be docking somewhere soon so she'd taken an early night and fallen asleep in the quarters offered by the Lohstren. At the moment, she's got a woolen blanket tucked around her and she's fast asleep on the cot.

"There once was a lassie named Abigail, she stole my heart from me…" The young Knight sings well, but is obviously drunk. He has had a few too many cups of mead, and it is showing. "…I tried and I tried, but I couldn't break free!" He nearly falls down the steps leading below deck. "I swore my love would never be stole, but she took my heart and rode away!" He approaches his former room, eyeballing the door for a moment through bloodshot eyes before grabbing the knob and staggering inside. Once inside, he shuts the door behind himself, and staggers toward the bed. At the edge, he removes his boots, and lifts the woolen blanket, flopping onto the bed, oblivious of Amira's presence. The blanket is pulled up toward him as he scoots in close toward the Princess, a very strong odor of alcohol about him.

From blissfully asleep to… what was that noise? Drunken sailors again, probably. Amira had heard plenty of them singing but none with such a fine baritone as the one she could hear now. A smile plays on her lips as she turns over to get comfortable, wearing the chemise underneath the dress she usually wears. Her dress is laying over a trunk in the corner, shoes smartly placed beside. Drifting back to sleep she's unaware when the door opens and closes, unaware of the staggering, but as soon as the flopping into bed happens, her eyes are wide open again. "Sir?" In bed like this, she's all cleaned up, having bathed to rid herself of the grime and ashes. She smells of lye soap and the light scented oil she had dabbed on herself earler, a nod to her femininity she'd insisted on. Smelling the alcohol, her eyes open wider. "Sir?" Gently she tentatively pushes against his chest, not alarmed yet, for the Lohstren had been a perfect gentleman thus far.

Dalyros grins in a drunken stupor to the woman, a laugh escaping his lips. "I told Samwell that I wouldn't lay with whores." He doesn't realize where he is as of yet. A warm hand slides along the noble woman's hip, as he takes in a strong sniff of her smellgood. "Oh, but you do smell good." A soft sigh is released from his body, "But alas, as I said, I don't lay with whores, so I will regretably have to ask you to abandon my quarters. If you were paid, find a southern man on the deck and provide your services to him." His hand continues to rest gently on her hip. One too many drinks? Perhaps more like five too many. He is awfully drunk.

Oh. My. Gods. His chest was bare! Jerking her hands back her eyes round before drifting down, unable to help herself as they have to see what she has just touched. As soon as her blue eyes make contact with the muscled expanse of his chest, they skitter away as if burned. OhmyGods! There was a man in her bed! Even moreso, there was an attractive man in her bed! What to do? What to do? Technically it was his bed! As soon as he begins talking, she stiffens. "Whore?" Catching that word above all, but finding a purely feminine thrill at being told she smells good… only to tamp it down as soon as his hand begins exploring her body. "Nonono… Sir Lohstren? It is.. I mean..I.." At a loss for words, she simply pushes his hand aside. "I am Princess Amira," she whispers, not wanting anyone else to hear, but deciding he was so very awfully drunk. "Paid? You offered me your bed!" A streak of stubborn makes an appearance and she pushes against him again.

Dalyros had closed his eyes, but when the Princess pushes against him and identifies herself, his bloodshot eyes open wide. He begins to realize the situation, and after a brief moment of shock, the young Knight attempts to get up out of bed, a little too quickly and before she can say anything further, he flops out on the floor, his head slapping the wood with a *THUD!* A groan escapes his lips, before he starts scrambling drunkily to his feet. He nearly has his footing, but falls again. After another moment, he is upright and standing before the bed with a wide frown on his face. He immediately bows, his knee hitting the floor. He almost loses his balance once more before slurring in his speech, "Your grace! I…" He is at a loss of words as well. "I… I…"

When he stumbles out of the bed, Amira sits up too, drawing the woolen blanket around her as she watches him… fall! Ohno! Tossing the blanket aside, she hurriedly stands, bare feet touching the cold planks of the floor. "Oh Sir Lohstren.." Only is she able to get to him when his knee finally hits the floor and she scoots herself under him with her arm and shoulder, offering a steadying balance. Of course all of the noise had roused people in neighboring rooms who were all calling out to keep the noise level down so they could sleep. One particularly lewd comment about the rocking boat and the rocking bed draws heat to her cheeks and her eyes lift to meet the drunken ones of the Lohstren. "Are you… hurt?"

Dalyros looks up to the Princess, his eyes wide with…. fear? His gaze immediately turns back to the floor, "I… I…" He attempts to come up with a reasonable explanation. He shakes his head in confusion, ignoring the comments from the other rooms. He shakes his head furiously for a moment, then turns his gaze back to the Princess, "I am drunk." He admits, as if it needed to be explained. "I…" he hesitates a moment, "I had forgot that you were here, your grace." He finally manages to explain, somewhat. She may notice his drunken bloodshot eyes drifting to her figure in the chemise, moving slowly up her body before he realizes once more the position he is in. His eyes quickly avert back to the floor, "Please, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Recognizing the fear but not understanding it, Amira attempts to just keep him steady. At his explanation, she nods and looks at him with a tender expression. "Indeed you are, Sir Lohstren. Please, get into the bed, you are in no condition to try and manage any stairs again this night," trying to help him back into the bed, pushing the blanket aside. "Please, there is nothing to forgive, sometimes our minds deceive us if we have had too much to drink." If he manages another look at her, he will see not anger, but amusement as she attempts to keep from laughing at the odd predicaments she keeps finding herself in. "Please get into bed and rest, I will watch over you tonight." A beat. "I am a healer after all." The words are said more tongue-in-cheek than offering any usefulness at all.

Dalyros raises both brows in surprise at her words. His gaze moves to her legs, then slowly back across her body. When he nears her eyes, he quickly looks back to the floor. A shake of his head is given in protest to her words. "Nay, your grace. I shall not take your bed. I shouldn't have come here, and I can manage the steps just fine." He tries to get back to his feet, but flops back to his side, perhaps pulling her down with him.

Samwell pages: 10 minutes or less

A small squeak escapes Amira when she tries to support him in standing and pulls her down with him, landing right beside him, her face all up in his. "I.." Again, words fail her and she tries again. "Please, you must.." Must what? Oh right! "Get into the bed, Sir." Gingerly she pushes herself up to kneeling again, beside his prone form. "Or perhaps not." Reaching for the blanket, she folds it and offers it for a pillow, trying to ignore the way he looks at her body in her underdress.

Dalyros groans softly, before pulling himself back to his knees beside her. "I…" He stammers, clearly not knowing what to say. He takes the pillow/blanket offered, setting it on the ground beside himself, the blanket becoming unfolded in his confusion. It is at this point that the most shocking thing happens. He leans close to her, his lips puckering up as he tries to steal a kiss! How much did the Knight have??? A whole barrel???

Oh but he was so distracting! As they both stammer around each other it occurs to Amira that at least he has an excuse! Mentally and physically incapacitated by the drink! Amira has no such excuses and so when he tries to steal a kiss from her, she had been so busy berating herself she had not been paying attention and just as soon as his lips plant against hers, she stiffens again, this time resting her hands on his shoulders and pushing back. Gods how many drinks did the man have? Could you get drunk from breathing in the smell of the ale from another's breath?

Dalyros leans into the kiss for a moment, his lips soft, his breath warm against her cheek, but shrouded in the strong odor of mead. His arms wrap around her, his bloodshot eyes now closed as he attempts to pull her against his bare chest. When she does push away, their lips part with a smacking sound, and the Knight's eyes slowly open. At that moment, reality begins to set in once more, as his eyes open wide. "Your grace!" He exclaims, "You shouldn't have kissed me! I am just a Knight! I am not worthy of your affection!" He is as shocked as she is.

"B..but I did not kiss you! You kissed me!" Amira hurriedly explains, until she realizes that his reasoning was hardly sound at all and she lifts her chin almost defensively. "And you are also a Lord as well. What would there be unworthy of? I do not kiss commoners.." The trap she had just walked herself into verbally was exactly what she had not intended. Instead of helping him up, she moves to sit on the edge of the bed, looking for all the world as if she might just laugh then and there.

Dalyros looks up at the Princess, then stammers to his feet before taking a position on the bed next to her, "Aye, I am a Lord, but you are the daughter of a King!" He lets out a laugh, "Flattering as it is, your grace, I know that I could never be allowed to be…be… court someone like you." He looks over at her a moment, "In another place and another time, Princess… perhaps…." His voice trails off before he stands once more from her bed. He turns and offers another polite bow, swaying a bit as he almost falls down. "I will take my leave now, and I bid you ado!" He then finishes his gesture by falling to the floor once more.

When he stands, Amira almost stands to assist him until he sits beside her and she offers a gentle smile. "It is not my place to suggest who may court me, it is my father and mother who decide and yet my brother is a crown prince and he is wedding a lady," certainly not trying to encourage him but instead, trying to help him see that she is only another person in the political game of nobles. Watching him stand gain, she follows suit and stands, though is unable to catch him when he falls once again. "You are going to hurt yourself and be in no condition for landfall on the morrow if you continue falling. Please stay here, I will go sleep with the other healer."

Dalyros struggles back to his feet. He releases another tired sigh as he manages to steady himself. He is quiet now, moving toward a dresser as he leans against it. He stands for a moment, head down, eyes closed as he sways back and forth, murmuring a few things under his breath about blonde vixens stealing his heart. Once again, he is oblivious to his surroundings as he begins unbuttoning his breeches. Before the Princess could possibly react, he has his pants unbuttoned, and dropped to his ankles. His leg muscles flex, showing his immense athleticism, as he places one foot on top of the breeches to force them off. After getting them off one leg, he repeats the process with his other foot. As he undresses, he begins singing again, "There once was a lassie named Abigail…"

Such a short memory men have. Amira watches him a moment until it becomes apparent what he is doing and she gasps in stunned surprise and turns her head away seeing him as he strips and steps out of his trousers before she had realized. She walks over to the trunk and tugs on her dress and pulls the hood over her head, then scoops up her shoes and carries them in hand. With somewhat jerky steps, she walks to the door and opens it. "You should sleep now, Sir Lohstren," Ignoring those passing in the hall, ducking her head, a few of her blonde locks escaping the hood. "You will need your strength tomorrow."

At this point, the nude Knight simply falls backward to the floor, his head landing with another *thud!* His eyes are closed, as he has passed out, finally. He doesn't snore, so no noise escapes him. Instead, he just sleeps. Someone stops in the hall, looking at Amira, then attempting to look into the room at the commotion. Dalyros remains unconscious.

When she hears him fall, Amira looks back down at him and then to the person in the hall. She hurriedly steps out and closes the door behind her to scurry along her way and prepare herself to look all old again.

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