The Toad Stool

His morning meal had come and gone rather quickly though the words his daughter spoke had left some thoughts in his mind that he would have to mull over for a few days. Even while sitting there and eating with her at the table he took into account her missing her classes for the day but quickly dismissed the idea of it being a bad thing, after all she would spend it with him and see what he would see, perhaps it would be a good learning experience for one so young and so eager to learn. By the time he was finished eating one of his guards arrived with a message from his business partner in town. The Toad had a way of spreading his little flies around and even here inside the Red Keep they found their target.

Aethon was brought his outdoors jacket, darkened leather that suited the mourning period that had been put into place, once it was on and fastened he looked to his daughter with a questionable stare in his eyes, was it worth it to bring her along with him, did she really need to see further into his business doing, especially these business doings; he wasn’t sure, yet he knew full well once he was dead and gone these kind of relationships would have to be renewed by his children, and if that meant bringing his youngest daughter along to instil relations beforehand then he would sacrifice her day of learning from books so she could have a day of learning in the real world.

He spoke simple words to her but he was sure they would see her happy and perhaps even joyful, this was her wish that day after all, she wished to be present and have her eyes pulled away from boring books and she was getting what she wanted. He orders her to be dressed for the outside; her handmaids would have easily seen her outfit completed with something that fell in line with the mourning while also being appropriate for them walking around King’s Landing.

Leaving the Red Keep at a modest pace was good for their lungs and nose, it didn’t smell so bad this far up, though the scent did indeed travel somewhat. By the time the two nobles followed by a group of five guards excited the Keep and moved forth into the city it was already beginning to flourish for the day, morning was firmly setting in and the sun was burning rather brightly in the sky though where they were headed the sun wouldn’t find them. They had to wander from the edges of the city inwards, till Aethon took a cut off one of the main roads and stepped into a dark and lonely alley, for others it would seem like a barren place with nothing going on and perhaps the breeding ground for cutthroats and thieves but little did they know that would be the least of their problems in this area.

Approaching a specific door that looked no different from the rest Aethon brought his knuckles to it and with hard knocks he chimed in the precise pattern that would grant him entry. “Dit ditditdit dit.” He turned at that moment and waved off three of the five guards who would stay outside at the entrance and wait for them to return, while only two would accompany him, though they were two of his finest guards and accomplished knights. Aethon Velaryon did almost nothing half assed, from his promises to presents, ships to guards the man was simple in the habit of making sure he and his products were beyond reproach when it came to their standards. And so he waited, those dead greyish blue eyes falling to his daughter as the expected sound of movement came from within the building he was facing and he knew it wouldn’t be long now before his daughter was introduced to a whole new world within King’s Landing.

The significance of missed lessons soared past the girl’s attention with little-to-none care. There was always another day, another repetitive agenda—the monotony mellowed her nature, but it had not yet smothered that distinctive glow. Its liveliness shone in her eyes shamelessly, even more so as she aged. Whilst breaking morning fast with her Father, self-satisfaction had been the easiest glimmer to witness in her disposition. An unimportant victory to most, it was of great contentment to Brisaenys.

However, when Aethon received message that prompted his visible preparation to depart, coolness settled the emotive hue of her irises. Lips pursed shut, jawline firmer—it was childish reaction, but one created without a single uttered word. Her shield to Baela wouldn’t be here when the Lady Mother would undoubtedly make her appearance. And it certainly wouldn’t a joy to greet her mother-dearest. Yet, for the third opportunity this day, Aethon saved her of this daily precognition: no lessons with the septa, no whip of Baela’s tongue… and the further postponing of both, in lieu of accompanying him elsewhere outside their guest chambers. No mastery of concealment seemed apparent to Brisaenys’ gaze, as brief response of acceptance to his orders slipped past those smiling, girlish lips.

When readied, her apparel was fit to the orders of public mourning—black and simple-cut, only its threading of silver-grey gave an eerie coloring to match the veiled lady’s pale locks. Layered for warmth in the outdoors, she was off and away beside the Velaryon patriarch.

Despite the months of residency in King’s Landing, Brisaenys had only ventured outside the Red Keep in company of her elder family members. And even then, it was through the main roads with her assumed place inconspicuously behind either her mother or siblings. So when Aethon guided their small group into side-streets and alleyways, anticipation mingled with hardened anxiety at the sights and lack of knowledge for their destination. At her smaller height, she glimpsed upward to her father’s facial profile—but his aged and uncaring gave no evidence of conversing on their journey. Along for the ride, Brisaenys had to simply trust his judgement in allowing her presence. Soon, their strides stopped at an unassuming door. She watched his wrist rise, his hand reach out, and she blinked inquiringly to the knocked pattern he produced at the end of the action. Hn. The monosyllable hummed silently in the back of her fair-skinned throat.

With short dismissal of three guards, Brisaenys felt knots reemerge in her stomach—to be unknowing was not a pleasant feeling. But perhaps... and this thought soothed her internal concerns... by being present with her Lord Father those knots would later not exist… if this would be the first of any experience or encounters with Aethon’s familiars, then she would not remain unknowing long. A measure of pride edged her chin higher; she’d wish to be worthy of more trips in the future. She’d do what was necessary to maintain it. In their waiting, his daughter did not notice how his eyes fell to her as she kept her vision towards the door. It would fully-evident she was listening, waiting, anticipating, absorbing… for one whom wanted nothing more than to be recognized apart her sisters, the balance of nerves and nervous highlighted her countenance into something too austere for her pretty, little face.

The hostile yank of a slider in the center of the short door echoed in the small alleyway and revealed two bulging eyes. With a grump and gruffle the little peep hole shut just as violently before several locks could be heard being undone. When the thick, little oak door started to slide open it reveal a well of darkness behind a dwarf with one arm and those bulging black eyes behind stringy brown hear. He had a round face and a large bulbous nose. His belly was swollen like a pregnant pig and his hairy toes stuck out of the front of his worn shoes.

Grumbling to himself, he finally waved a hand and said hurriedly, "Come in, come in, come in with you."

Beyond the door was small landing and luckily the roof went up to accommodate the height of a normal man. Then the world descended down into darkness.

" 'Cuses, 'cuses me." Said the dwarf as he waddled around the two in order to lead them down further. The further down they went more light started to trickle in. Torch light, glow worms, candle light, they were all lighting the small alcoves on either side of the walk that were bustling with busy little bees doing this or that. Most of the workers were orphans, mauled and damaged in some way. They were skinny little things wearing itchy burlap and broken sandals.

At the end of the little cobble stone walk the room opened up into larger alcove where the light of a hearth brightened the room from behind a great wooden desk but was partially snuffed out by the mass of a man sitting at the desk. Off to one side a young girl, of about the same age as the Lord's daughter, was scrubbing the floor. Her beautiful shiny golden brown hair was braided loosely and fell down one shoulder. She, like the others, was wearing a burlap dress but had no shoes. She scrubbed an scrubbed tiredlessly before finally sitting back on her haunches to wet her scrub in the dirty bucket beside her. The entry of new person caused the little girl to turn her head revealing a mess of melted flesh. There was no beautiful golden brown hair on that side, only small spike where hair still yearned to grown. Her skin was bubbled over in acid washed layers and thin stretch of skin covered over what would have otherwise been a gaping hole where her other eye should have been. Only half of her mouth moved, the half not sealed by her damaged skin, when she smiled at the beautiful Velaryon girl with her father. Hoisting the bucket up with an equally mangled arm, whose two last fingers were molded together the girl curtsied and left the room.

Meanwhile, the Toad, one of three massive and disgusting brothers with a network of underground dealings across the known world, held up one fat finger while he counted the last of his coin before pushing a tall pile of the golden dragons off into a small chest. This Toad was Daxos Theenus, the last of the triplets. He bald as an egg, round as a ball and as big as a boulder yet not taller than the man who came to visit him today. His fingers were nimble despite being the size of good sausages and his dark hazel eyes were deepset in his head. They flickered over Aethon and fell on his daughter, for a moment lighting up but the light quickly died leaving a scowl on his face.

"Here I thought you'd finally decided to bring me that beautiful little bastard of yours. What do you want, Lord Aethon and why is there an ugly little pale girl in my presence?" Daxos' voice gurgled up the rolls of his neck. His fat fingers caressed the thick fur collar of his ornate jacket like it was a whore's ass.

Silence filled the alley way before the sound of metal clanking and sliding came from the other side of the door. He hadn’t much to say to his daughter at this point plus she wasn’t there to make idle conversation, she was there to watch and learn and perhaps pick up on some things that would come in handy during her life, or at the very least she could pass on any information she got from meeting one of the Toad brothers to her elder siblings because he knew fine and well when he was gone a new business arrangement would have to be brokered with them yet again, much like how he had to do it himself rather than inherit that aspect of the business from his father.

When the door was finally open and the dwarf spoke hurriedly before leading them down the rabbit hole into another world within King’s Landing he looked back a single time to make sure his daughter had followed and that behind her were his two guards. Unlike his guards he had to hunch over slightly during his walk downwards through the candle lit passageway because it was built for average men of normal height, and he stood on the higher end of normal. As their leading dwarf continued his journey through the Toad Stool, Aethon paid little to no attention to the deformity, though his thoughts were laced in something akin to disgust. What kind of man would let his son grow up in that form? He would have been better off killed as a baby rather than living life as a deformed monster.

The amount of little flies they passed wasn’t unusual or foreign to him, this wasn’t his first visit here nor would it be his last, they all seemed to be rather busy with one job or another on their minds and like the dwarf he paid little attention to them. Atleast that was the case till his eyes fell to the little girl wrapped in a similar burlap sack that the rest of them wore. The only was a clear difference between her and the others; least from what he noticed was the state of her face and lack of half her hair. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she was one of the things Alexander had toyed with previously, perhaps someone he and his witch had fun time with, but his attention soon left the girl before she curtsied and exited the room.

Was he joking? The words that left the Toad’s lips were enough to annoy him almost instantly, the fool had sent for him and now here he was either playing stupid or worse, he had actually forgotten all about it. Aethon stepped closer to the Toad’s desk and leaned down on it, his knuckles supporting his weight as his dead bluish grey eyes scanned over the thin layer of sweat that seemed to coat the man. “Enough with your insults, Toad, you sent one of your little flies to bring me here only to spew shit at me. What do YOU want, Daxos.” Yes, Aethon had taken the slight against his daughter personally, not because he thought she was hurt by the Toad’s words or that she couldn’t handle it, but it was an insult to his own name that something he had conceived and brought into this world was less that pristine.

The girl’s shoulders jolted back minimally once the plank covering the door’s peephole abruptly opened and closed in the briefest breaths. Brisaenys’ mouth grimaced suspiciously at the mangled dwarf in front of them. Call it her ‘feminine heart’ but she had a deep appreciation for pleasing aesthetics… this thing was far from it. It said nothing beyond instructions to follow… him? She was semi-certain it was a him that beckoned their strides to descend into the darkness from which it came— the Lord’s youngest child wouldn’t have moved until Aethon first entered, to which she steadily trailed after him.

She prayed her footing was balanced, a comical ironic gesture when the girl wasn’t a devout follower of religious faith. Her humility did not derive of deities, but by the punitive realities experienced in her numbered years of life. But—when discomfort entwined the line of angst—some situations pulled unfamiliar antics out of the depths of young minds.

And unlike Aethon, the workers seen here proved to shake her unworldly knowledge of her father’s professional acquaintances. Stoically aghast, it took every ounce of her determination to keep composure. She didn’t want to touch them. She didn’t want them to touch her. In truth, she didn’t want to watch them any longer either, which her eyes tugged away to Aethon’s back. The sight of them rolled her stomach much like a foul smell; it crinkled her nose, promising her that they remained despite her eagerness to look away. Her concentration attempted to prioritize focus to her Lord Father; but that avenue soon found its dead-end once they entered a different alcove brighter than the corridor exited previously. As Brisaenys’ eyes adjusted to the scene, her attention stirred initially to the young girl cleaning the chamber’s floor. For the briefest moments, she regarded the girl with a relaxed countenance. And it was replaced by wide, stunned irises once the brown-haired girl turned fully towards them—that smile. That twisted, awful smile. The fair-haired daughter willed that perverse image to vanish, nodding once in silent acknowledgement at the tarnished girl. As if hearing Brisaenys’ thoughts, the girl stood to curtsy and left the room, transferring the lady’s focus elsewhere.

It fell upon a horrid excuse for a man—here, she might’ve disavowed her enthusiasm to learn at her father’s side. But Aethon wouldn’t have brought her if the trip was not without its usefulness. Ugliness had to be tolerated, disgust shielded… right? She earnestly hoped so— she was unconvinced by first impression… and apparently Daxos shared similar thoughts about herself. ‘Ugly little pale girl’, echoed verbatim and tugged at her core. She wanted to snap back defiantly; but held against it. The last thing she wanted was to show bad form in light of her father, or worse, get stuck in a toad’s tongue somehow. A shudder threatened up her spine at the thought. Repulsive thing, he was. Fancy a bastard? It was not a faultless request, it suited him. A small smirk etched the left-side corner of her sweet mouth, which could have been blocked once Aethon moved to share words with Daxos.

Brisaenys had petty, ungenerous streak of opinion, in regard to insults. A gentle heart would not have survived Baela otherwise. Thereafter, she stood and listened to the exchange taken between her Lord Father and Daxos. A butterfly-on-the-wall mute and unabashed because of Aethon’s and their guards’ presence; it was not entirely unrelated to the little flies seen working before—she just happened to have the preordained luck of noble birthright.

Daxos' eyes scaled from the top of the desk to the top of Aethon's head in one languid motion. The rage he'd triggered in the man failed to register a source. Each Toad was brilliant mind in money matters and person to see should one need information, however, this one lacked a sense of time and his memory for anything beyond the moment, which often passed with the counting of coin, was little to none. But, that's where the dwarf came in and the little creature was quick to jump to his post. Moving a stool from the wall, the man flapped his large feet up the short steps and cupped his hand over his mouth as he moved into Daxos' ear.

After a moment, Daxos' eyes brightened and he slapped the table. "Ah yes! My, you are perfumed today, Lord Aethon."

As the dwarf returned to the floor and moved to put the stool back, Daxos rose from his chair, which had to be slightly shimmied off. By the time the deed was done he was breathing something fierce and his thin sheen of constant sweat had doubled.

The sound of his hands colliding was not unlike the sound of wet meat slapping a cutting board. "I have a request for you to fill." He stopped around the desk and sneered down at the Lord's daughter. None of the Toads fancied light-skinned women. They did however have a deep seated penchant for little boys of her color and build. Daxos had been so keen on young Daegon that he would have given Aethon an entire chest of gold to leave the little bastard for just one night.

C'est la vie.

Shifting so that the girl was shadowed by her father, Daxos went on. He wasn't unaware of the effect his insult had on Aethon. The two shared a history long enough for the fat boy to remember just how much the man coveted everything that was his. He could barely contain his disgust for her and she for him and his little flies.

"Birds!" The pudgy fingers twiddled against themselves. "I need sea eagles. A nest and a mo-" He peered around Aethon then, unwilling to speak specifics with an extra set of ears. "Does that thing have to remain here? It's so horrid."

Some things just never changed, like the horrid memory of someone who for a living traded in information, Aethon could never understand just how Daxos had survived this long in the underground but those thoughts quickly vanished when it was clear that the dwarf helped the toad to remember. Aethon folded his arms about his chest as the fat man shimmied off the chair in a rather comical manner, his heavy breathing had increased and even that layer of disgusting sweat had thickened which just added another two reasons to why Aethon wanted business handled so he could get the hell out of there.

So someone was in the market for sea eagles and it seemed like they weren’t after just one, even with Daxos cutting himself off it was still easy to understand where he was going with it, a nest of them plus the mother…Expensive. His trip here and the offense to his eyes and nose were all worth it now, though it seemed like Daxos preferred they talk about the rest of business matters in private as he peered around to Brisaenys and voiced the need for her to stay present.

Aethon had brought the girl for a few reasons but the main one was clear and simple, because he could. When he grew up his father had spent so much time having him taught through books and tutors that he failed to actually take his son out into the real world, it didn’t matter what he had read because books didn’t prepare people for face to face interactions or what to expect from people. So he wouldn’t do the same with his children, well he wouldn’t do the same with this one since currently she at the very least seemed to share his view on the world and she would rather lean as she went than be stuck reading books all day.

Aethon stepped fully to one side as his eyes moved between the bloated toad and his daughter, even if he wanted her to see what he did, to get a real sense for his business and the interaction of others, he wouldn’t coddle her. He wouldn’t neither defend her presence nor come to her aid if she failed to impress with her next set of words, no, she would be tossed into the deep end without any arm bands on and if she sank then he would simply make another. “This is my daughter, Brisaenys, half-sister to your beloved Daegon…” He paused in his words as his attention moved from the toad to the very girl he was speaking of. “Go on then, give the man a reason as to why you should be allowed to remain while we speak business.”

At her father's instruction, Brisaenys spoke, “One day, our House legacy and the affiliates of my Lord Father will be passed onto a son,” right off, the girl recognized the societal custom to her gender, but then she continued, “And if one weary day, my Lord Father’s heir should fancy to burn this bridge built with you atop it,” she mused aloud, “this thing—a Velaryon entrusted to know your importance—might ensure that the structure and traffic across that bridge remains intact and thriving instead.” The grubby man likely had other options to gain his needs and wants; but Brisaenys assumed some measure of favoritism to her House name. Who of Daxos’ ilk wouldn’t? Her Lord Father had fostered their rank, their wealth… and it likely didn’t go without his connections; and for any to get their eager foot through the door… even fat feet with bulbous toes… meant a road of promise with the correct insight. Brisaenys’ might’ve not known the full extent of those connections; she might’ve not approved of unsavory appearance or unruly diction; but she was practical enough to offer Daxos a 'strength in Velaryon numbers'. And-- she simply trusted her Lord Father without direct reason. Something the old man wouldn’t reciprocate to any person in this world.

“However, Sir,” she voiced lackadaisically, “might is such a fragile word,” then shrugged lightly, as if pondering the opposite outcome to the proposed situation with her elder sibling. Despite her age, Brisaenys had small talent in subtle persuasion; and there was nothing solid in her morals to suggest she was against playing those games with her own family. She had done it this morning with her Lord Father, all by familiarity with his behavior—she referred clearly to his superiority of intellect over the septa, paving the way to where she stood now. A single sentence had done the trick.

But with Daxos, Brisaenys was in foreign water. The only information of the pudgy man was through that silent stirring swirling in her mind. Obviously, the Toad was of value as one of her father’s furtive resources—she inferred that same value could have been shared by Daxos towards Aethon. And in light of his nauseating disposition, his gaudily furred apparel and golden dragon paper-weights on his desk painted the picturesque judgment Brisaenys had settled upon: her usefulness rested on the sole fact she was a Velaryon. And more significantly, one with an aptitude to keep Daxos’ bridge maintained, repaired, and safe-guarded when an era after Aethon came.... if she felt agreeable to it, “If you wish, my presence could prove to be an investment for an inevitable future—as a gracious, lifelong supporter with a competency to value your acquisitions. Or... I remain nothing.”

He could have canned her logic in an instant. Her father could have found fault in her little speech. But this was where the girl’s perceptiveness ended, the aftermath rested out of her control. Yet in truest honesty, being made aware of their business would be vastly more challenging than to be pushed aside... The daughter was accustomed to the latter and none—not even Brisaenys herself— could honestly know if she could handle what Aethon was throwing her into.

It took every ounce of the Pirates resolve to pull himself from the bed when he awoke. It was the softest thing he had ever slept on and probably would be the last time he would get that opportunity again. Though perhaps not, given he had only just learned the day before he had a son and a rekindled passion for the boy's mother, maybe more nights like this would be in his future. Apart from the bed the food was next on his list of things he did not want to go without as was pretty evident from the way he devoured everything around him on a scale that may even have impressed his son's massive uncle, yet that was not a man Straga really wished to hold a conversation with to find out.

All the finery about him and there was little Straga actually managed to get away with taking, Rhaelle made sure of that. Three times she stripped him of his possessions and not in a way he would have preferred. When they did finally have to depart, Straga ruffled Rhaegar's hair and gave the boy a wink while his mother received yet another swat to her already bruised rear end. The man loved being able to get away with such an act and the look on a guard or two when they saw him do it and walk away intact was even more rewarding. The look in his son's eyes though when he left the keep tugged at the pirate's heart in a way he was not at all familiar with. Straga had killed men that would have claimed him like a brother without even a second thought. Never would he have considered an attachment to another living person to the degree he did not wish to have them even think he would leave their side. But, alas, this time he had no say in the matter and business had to be conducted, though he would make sure he would return to his son's side at least one more time before the sea dragged him back to her embrace once more.

The detour to The Fishmonger's Square was a long one but it seemed somewhat necessary so that the men were not getting any wild ideas of looking for their first mate. Plus, a little bit of gold was always the easiest way to placate some anxious pirates. Though truth be told Straga actually would have preferred to hold onto the golden bracelet Rhaelle allowed him to keep. No matter, he would just swipe it back from whoever took it when they were back aboard the ship. While he walked through the streets, Straga's hands were cupped around the back of his head and his single visible red eye scanned each of the stales that he walked past. Honestly, it was a very strange posture to stroll around with but it was the only one he could find that alleviated the pain on his back. With raised shoulders as they were, it lifted his dark shirt that was stained in blood that was not easily spotted due to the black material. Perhaps he should have had someone tend to it before he left because really he looked like he was just mauled by some massive beast and barely made it out alive. It was a beast though that he would gladly have him maul him over and over again consequences be damned.

By the time he reached the end of the street he was jingling like a sack full of metals and with a quick glance back down the road he just traveled he chuckled to himself as merchants were shouting accusations at anyone that now stood at their stalls. Some even blaming each other for trying to swipe their wares and sell them for themselves. Hopping into a near by alley, he next stopped in front of a small door and gave it a few quick kicks. This was a place Straga had visited a number of times but the man inside was one of the brother's Straga had less dealings with, unlike his counterparts who he knew very intimately.

As Aethon moved again revealing that dusty colored child to him, Daxos twisted slightly away, fingers still twiddling against themselves. From his body language alone it was clear to see that he had no interest in hearing the girl argue her point. In his mind she was almost as gruesome to behold as that man-sized woman. At least that one came with chocolate colored maiden but this one, this one had nothing to offer him to temper the presence of her unsightliness. Aethon had risen above the cusp of being attractive enough to be a distraction from that pale creature in their midst. His waning years, though they still left remnants of his once grand beauty, were too much now to sustain both visages.

And wasn't it a bit hypocritical that his man, the size of a great robed hippo, with his sweat shining bald head, arms that rested upon his own body and not alongside it, should judge a lithe young woman of any complexion? Who was this great bulbous human, who surrounded himself with some of the most misshapen humanoids the capital had to offer, to judge a woman of education and prestige? Yet so visceral was his reaction to merely her appearance that her words rolled off of him like the sweat seeping into the furred collar of his jacket.

Daxos waved a swollen hand at her, dismissing without a moments hesitation anything and all that she had said. "You expect me to look up on you in years to come? When you've grown into curves, Gods forbid, with more pale flesh stretched across those horrid features? To converse and make merry and focus upon dealing of business with such a wretched visage. Oh, no, no, my dear, that will not do."

He was breathing a bit heavier now, as if the thought of years of trade with her was physically exhausting or perhaps merely standing there was taking a toll on him. One foot then the other moved so that his great weight finally turned to face her squarely. Bending, from where no could tell you as his hips were not carved out anywhere on his person, his deep, mouth drawn breaths vacuumed the air around her person. "Unless," said Daxos placing his gaze on the area of her forehead, from hair line to eyebrows he could pretend this was the delicate, sweetly carved forehead of that delicious young Daegon,"you bring with you something exquisite for me to gaze upon."

As his heavy, hungry breathing began to overtake even the sound of the little misfits working, the sound of knocking stilled the room. Really, the sound of knocking didn't ever reach that far back into the stool but when that patterned rapping struck the door, the stillness that tickled down through the workers alerted the dwarf to company. Having been lingering beside his boss' desk, the little man, began to waddle toward the aisle. " 'Cuses, 'cuses me." He mumbled, slipping past Aethon and his child.

"Bazzes comes up, Bazzes comes down, Bazzes comes upward again." He spoke to himself as he ascended the stairs and ripped open the peep hole. A frown twisted his features to see the man beyond the door.

Meetings between his master and the pirate who would be taking the landing now were as wild as fire beyond a hearth. Daxos both loved and loathed the little man with the sticky fingers and half cocked treaties and plans. Quick as the great hippo was, he'd yet to master the art of getting more from the pirate than the pirate got from him. The tempting allure of the promise of porcelain skin beneath all of that dirt and fine white blonde hair beneath the sea salt and dirt was a distraction to his wits.

The dwarf motioned down the stairs for Daemon; the pirate knew the way well. He then closed the door and waddled around to the front just as he had done Aethon. " 'Cuses, 'cuses, 'cuses me." It wasn't protocol to allow patrons to pile up in his master's office and things could go one way or another with the pirate arriving as the boss was speaking to others. He was has hard to contain as a hyper active puppy, but the dwarf, no matter the task, always did try to do his best.

As Aethon watched the scene play out between his daughter and The Plump Toad his eyes scanned back and forth between the two, one trying hard to keep her place in the meeting and the other seemingly trying even harder to get her out of his presence as soon as possible. Daxos was an odd thing indeed when it came to many aspects but the oddest had to be his love of broken people or seemingly pretty people by his own standards. A nice brown girl could turn his eye where as a boy in the same colour would outright offend his delicate sensibilities, same could be said of his interest in the pale bastard while he showed something near contempt for a very similar view on a female.

By the time Brisaenys had done her best to stay in the situation it seemed the Toad was having none of it, at least until he bent forward closer to her and made his wants rather clear. Aethon shook his head at the fat man’s request, not because it was too outrageous but because he had already seen it coming. There were few things that held more importance to Daxos than straight up gold, perhaps this wasn’t even one of them, and though he could recall each time he had offered heaps of coin simply for a night with Daegon so it did seem to be the Fly Catchers real passion or perhaps weakness.

His gaze travelled from fat to thin as he mused over her tried words of negotiation, for all intent purposes she hadn’t failed, though it hadn’t been her speech that brought Daxos to heel. The Toad had brought it up himself and this is where Aethon found fault in his daughter’s approach to the negotiation, she had failed to discern what it was that Daxos wanted, what he needed in that moment to allow her to stay and listen to the business. She had tried to stand on her own two feet and placed the future prospects before the backer that stood right there with her, her father. Rather than painting a pretty picture of the future and what good things would come of it he had thought she would play the game with the pieces she already had on the board. Her father had brought her there, clearly HE wanted her present for whatever unknown reasons he had, there was also the fact that Daxos didn’t even attempt to hide his dislike of her look. Could she have leveraged that Daxos had indeed sought out Aethon for business, could she have used that to her advantage and threatened the possibility of him having to look elsewhere for whatever it was he wanted? She could have, and he would have if it was him standing in the spotlight, he would have played the cards he had rather than promising or threatening things in the future when the future held no certainties though he would have also given The Toad the one thing he wanted in those moments, for her to be out of his sight.

Aethon’s thoughts were rushed away as the dwarf returned and waddled past them. It seemed the Toad had another appointment though it was of little concern to Aethon outside of the fact that his time was currently being cut into by someone else. Arms folded around his chest as he stepped forward and his dead greyish blue eyes bore down onto the great robed hippo. “Enough time wasting, Daxos. Speak of what you need so I can remove myself from this place.”

Look upon her? She’d sooner wish nothing of the action if he’d be the giver. Brisaenys equally matched his scorn at this notion. No, the child cared little to his disapproval to her physical appearance. She cared greater for the effect it played to the want of her striving tact. His endless string of insult to her lack of appropriate gender or bodily hues pained her small— but his abrasive dismissal to any business association based solely on her looks was soundlessly infuriating. Gluttonous waste of flesh…

A cobwebbing of slurs raveled its stay in the crevices of the girl’s personal judgments, and she glanced once to Aethon briefly before Daxos squared his attention solely to her. His rasping breath only heightened the disgraces Brisaenys kept to his unsavory build. His briny scent suffocated her.

The girl was quite accustomed to prideful grudges. Yet, that youthful face peaked at his last suggestion. Daring warmth lined the tightened, left-hand curve of her mouth—converse, make merry, whatever could have transpired in the pending months—his insatiable taste might be worth it, a tiny necessity in her opinion. Sate him. Gorge his wants. Glut his disgusting need of flesh matching everything she wasn’t’…This train of thoughts danced in her stare with an animation reminiscence of bloodlust on a seasoned fighter. Distracted, she did not notice the departing dwarf out of the alcove. Brisaenys echoed Daxos, “Exquisite to gaze,” it was her determination to reap his offering that prompted her to lean forward in slightest measure, closer to that perspiring despicable body-mass, “too pleasing, begging to be touched… yes, yes, my dear Sir, that I may do finely for you, in time.”

Did she mock him by making play to his very words? Perhaps, just a little. It was with the intent of solidifying her understanding of his request. Whether or not Brisaenys could produce a… item of Daxos’ liking, the girl still proved perceptive enough to adaptably consider his barter. As she adjusted back to straighter posture and took short step backwards, Brisaenys noted the way he stared at her hairline and continued to watch if his vision moved elsewhere following her comments.

Hn. Those blissful comments designed to this hungering vile man. Who could predict her comments’ fruition? Lingering unseen to the future, the youngest daughter of Velaryon might never step foot here again in her lifetime. This encounter with the Toad in King’s Landing could prove to be just a memory, a lesson, and a reminder that the gloss of noble wealth and standing was not without its hindrances.

Her father’s voice, in this moment, removed her face from Daxos’ sight and pressed her strides past Aethon’s shoulder as he stepped forward to converse sterner. Brisaenys’ lingering petite form went to stand in front of the two guardsmen; by her retreating position, the fair-haired girl was evidently uncommitted to press conversation further with Daxos. Let the men speak their business because, like Aethon spoke, Brisaenys was beyond prepared to leave the Toad’s abode. For the time being, the Lord’s daughter kept to her thoughts with nothing else to divert her attention otherwise.

When the peephole opened Straga flashed the little dwarf a wide smile, leaning down to meet his gaze and even stayed in that position as the door opened and he waddled his way inside. "Baz my old friend. Are you getting taller? I bet you are." Straga mused at the thought before resting his hand on Bazzes shoulder and followed him down the small flight of stairs, his single visible eye darting left and right for anything he may pocket on his exit.

When they both entered the room, Straga seemed to ignore the two other figures present as his arms outstretched and wrapped around the rotund figure of Daxos. Straga was no idiot, he knew of the Toads lusts and wants and he loved toying with the individual to the point the man almost passed out from hyperventilating. On this visit, as if to tease the toad further, Straga was, for the first time ever, clean almost beyond recognition but he knew Daxos would know him, anyone that had proper dealings with the Pirate Lord did. Those crimson red orbs were very hard to misplace along with his golden hair that was now almost just a pony tail for he risked loosing his dreadlocks if he bathed too much more.

Patting the toad on the stomach a couple times he turned and finally regarded those other two present before he stepped back and his form molded into a nearby seat. "Ohhh company, and a Lord at that. Daxos you naughty man, I thought I was your most valued customer." Straga offered Daxos a wink as he leaned forward and his single visible eye scanned the two as best he could before he swapped the eye patch across to covered his previously visible eye and reveling a second fully functional one. "Lord Velaryon as I live and breath. I'd never think to find one so, proper, in such a squabble. Such interesting times we live in. Don't mind me though, I'm naught but a fly on the wall, please please, continue."

Looking around the room, Straga lifted a small knife, barely even sharp and started toying with the tip, gliding it under his already, unusually clean fingernails and acting as if no one else around him even existed.

Despite knowing how devious the pirate king could be, the little man escorting him couldn't help but preen at the compliment. He shook his large head, though, "Bazzes same. Sames as alwayses."

They entered the archway of the room just as Daxos was letting all sorts of disgusting images filter through his head at the girl's promise. A horrid, twisted smile had formed through the stretched skin of his round face, bulging his high round cheeks which were pink with the excitement of his own imagination. He had risen from staring so closely at the girl's forehead, to catch his breath, a new sheen of perspiration running down into this coat. Stroking the fluffy tuffs of his lapel's Daxos regarded the child and her father with beady eyes and quickened breath, a sound that seemed to heighten as Straga put his arms around the rotund man.

The pirate was clean, the true paleness of his skin bare and scented with oranges and spice. His hair was clean but still twisted in dreads and pulled back, baring his full clean face. The fat man could have fainted in that moment but instead he frowned, no, pouted when Straga left his side to sit down because he hadn't had a chance to pass his pudgy fingers over that soft skin.

His breathing was so heavy now, that his shoulders heaved under the bright colors of his jacket. The dwarf at his side, shook his head, seeming to materialize a handkerchief for his master, which the Toad took and dabbed his head with.

"Oh my, my. How lovely to see you." said the Toad between breaths. He hadn't missed the pirate's calling out of his first guest but it had returned his attention to matters which proceeded his arrival. "Yes, yes, Lord Aethon." His beady stare then returned briefly to the young girl. "Quite the clever ... child you have with you. The bird and the eggs, that is all. The usual price, the usual place." He waved a hand at Brisaenys, flapping the damp cloth at her, "Since this one is so keen to become a tool of trade, you can be the one to fill in the details."