Her inner thighs were starting to sore. She rode on a small, brown mule; which was also carrying a cart of barley and wheat. Margaery rode beside her; wearing brown riding gear and black cow leather boots that reached up to her knees. She claimed it was travelling gear; though the materials were too rich to be treated roughly.

"I learned to ride at a young age" Margaery initiated "All little ladies in Highgarden must learn to ride from the age of five"

"Tully tradition insisted on everyone being able to swim. I remember running down to the Red Fork naked as a child with Edmure and Lysa: we used to swim all day and eat apples from the trees in the summer years. Then my breasts budded and my father kept me inside as Edmure and Lysa continued. Brigands used to always roam the Riverlands in those days; even though our Uncle Brynden used to protect us and chase us with the nettle branches: Father was always worried for his little cat. During Robert's Rebellion he always used to say 'Wait for me, little cat' when he went on campaign"

"It sounds like you were brought up very differently to me; Lady Catelyn" Margaery smiled

"Indeed" Catelyn smiled "In the autumn years the rivers of the Trident used to flood and supplies barely reached Riverrun. We used to survive on fish; water lilies and old river water. I miss those summer years"

"In Highgarden; the sun shines until the very end of autumn. We are always blessed with a bountiful harvest, and during the nights the scents of roses and tulips used to dance up the tower windows to mine and Loras' bedchambers" Margaery reminisced "We used to always sneak down to the kitchens and steal lemon cakes and honey bread"

"My daughter Sansa loves lemon cakes" Catelyn replied as they took a bend. The fortress of Storm's End was becoming visible in the distance.

"I would assume she is safe in Winterfell"

"No. She is being held prisoner in King's Landing by the Queen and Joffrey. All because she wanted to know of the southern ladies and see the sun shine on her face everyday"

"I'm so sorry"

"No need to be: little rose. Soon, I shall have my daughter back"

"Don't you have two daughters?"

"Yes: Arya. Sansa's letter to us never detailed any mention of Arya. We fear for her safety" a tear wept down Catelyn's face. Margaery fussed inside her pockets and brandished a small handkerchief. She handed it to Catelyn; who took it gratefully "Thank you; my dear" she wiped away the tear.

The fortress of Storm's End was looming before them; great stone walls reaching high; though not higher than the main keep; which rose high into the sky, the stag of Baratheon flapping in the wind atop each turret and tower. Pike-men watched from the turret as the convoy slowly trotted into the courtyard

"Is it true that Brandon the Builder built this?" Margaery asked

"The legends say he did" Catelyn said; marvelling herself at the enormity of the seat of House Baratheon. She wasn't surprised however: as Brandon the Builder had set the foundations of the Wall: the structure that separates Westeros from the frozen wastelands beyond Castle Black. "You and your brother seem to be close"

"Indeed" Margaery replied "We used to share everything. Even though we aren't of the same seed; we look the same and our interests intertwine. We shared our bedding tower; we sat next to each other during meals; we played together in the gardens as the sun set. Inseparable"

"Like Cersei and the Kingslayer"

"Not that close" Margaery japed. They both laughed.

They were passing beneath Storm's End's wrought-iron portcullis. The enormity of Storm's End was even more impressive inside. Wall gardens lined tapestries of stags and crowned stags. Huge, Ironwood doors led into the Main Hall; as archers and spear-men walked the walls, watching the women with interest.

The doors opened; a grand display of effort and creaking steel hinges. Ser Cortnay Penrose ushered himself to meet the host. The castellan of Storm's End's bald head and red beard reflecting the image of late King Robert.

"Welcome to Storm's End" he announced "A feast has been arranged, and will begin at Evening fall" He bowed; and walked back to the hall.

Margaery leapt down from her horse and stretched; rubbing the insides of her thighs meanwhile. Catelyn requested a hand from a Tyrell flag boy; bowing when he realised her station. "Thank you" Catelyn thanked; as the flag boy strode away to a flock of Tyrell handmaidens.

"I wonder how long we'll be cooped up here" Margaery pondered

"Hopefully only a week" Catelyn replied "When Ned rode off to fight in Robert's Rebellion; I was scared to leave Riverrun for almost a year in case of missing him. And of hearing rumours..."

"I'm worried for Renly" they walked to the hall; where a small banquet of Stormlands delicacies had been laid out for them "He never seemed eager to act out punishments; I dread to know how he would deal with a full on battle"

"The Battle of the Baratheon Brothers; the bards will name it" Catelyn said, as they sat on a wooden bench and helped themselves to a selection of fish and meats "Stannis the Stubborn and Renly the Boy"

"Speaking of Renly" Margaery asked

"Speak, child"

"He seems... well: I don't know how to describe it. Almost, resistant to carrying out his duties in the marriage bed: was Lord Eddard like that"

"Ned was very honourable. At our wedding he refused to carry out the traditional bedding as he didn't want to break a man's jaw on our wedding night. However; we still carried out our duties. Renly won't: at all?"

"No. Not even on our wedding day. He drank too much wine purposefully so he wouldn't be able to take me. Am I not good enough for him?"

"Maybe he believes a maiden of six-and-ten isn't ready for the duty"

"Some of my handmaidens have been taken by men twice the age of age now when they were three-and-ten"

"Lord Renly is different to other men. I remember when he was child: as he used to prance around these very halls in bright colours and used to call himself 'Renly the Hero!'" they both giggled. "Give him time, my Queen. He will soon submit. Try to woo him; not with your bodily features, but with your personality; a meal, or something"

"Thank you, Lady Catelyn"