Here we go guys, here's another one. It's a big one, too!
I hope you like it! Let me know what you think, you know how much it means to me.
Big thank you to darkwolf76, my wonderful beta and advisor!
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I hope you love it! :)
"The Red Viper, huh?" she asks, staring me down.
I thought I was ready for her attack. I should be used to it by now. Surprisingly, I'm not.
"You do know that I did not ask for that crown?" I ask.
"I know," Olenna Tyrell confirms, but the suspicion in her eyes didn't leave her. "I also happen to know that you are far from daft."
"I did not have an aim, grandmother," I tell her. "Oberyn did it on his own accord."
"Yes, just as I have stumbled upon your grandfather's bedchambers by complete accident."
"Grandmother, I beg of you," I mumble, looking down at the ground. "I do not need to hear that."
"Yes, you do," she disagrees. "Clara, open your eyes. You will not get what you want if you don't make an effort!"
"I don't want Oberyn, Grandmother!" I snap. The last thing I want to do is to yell at her, but she will not stop pushing me towards the edge. I'm still holding my ground, but she is one push away from sending me over the edge of a cliff, just like how grandfather died. "Why would I make an effort to get something I do not even want? He is my friend! The only reason he threw the crown at me was because he knew very well I would be annoyed by it! He enjoys teasing me, nothing more than that! I do not want him!"
"Then who do you want?" she leans over the table between us, as if to challenge me.
"No one," I say, leaning over as well, meeting her challenge head on. "No one, Grandmother."
"You might be smart, but you cannot lie for the life of you," she shakes her head in consternation. "If it is the Stark boy that you want, if you want him out of all the possibilities, than grab a hold of him and don't let go!"
"I am not grabbing anything, Grandmother," I manage to mumble. "You said it yourself. All of them want me, none of them want to marry me. Why pretend now?"
"Because if I made your Grandfather forget about my sister and ask for my hand in marriage, I know you can do the same with the Stark boy."
Receiving lessons in seduction from one of my closest friends had been challenging on its own, as well as ridiculous. Receiving lessons in seduction from my very old Grandmother was something I didn't believe I would ever have to deal with. That is, until now.
"Correct me if I am mistaken, but are you actually suggesting that I should have him bed me while he is here? Seize the opportunity? Take advantage of him? Compel him to act on his honor? Force him into a marriage, a price he would have to pay for one night of passion? Or am I mistaken?"
"Say it as you will," she shakes her head. "I am simply trying to help you."
"Your suggestions have been nothing but wonderful so far. " My voice drops with sarcasm.
"Perhaps they will be more successful than your foolish tactics?" she asks, adding insult to injury. "What you are trying to do… it is so very charming and beautiful. You want to get to his heart, to make him fall in love with you. My dearest Clara, the time has come for you to learn that a way to a man's heart is only through his bed."
"I do not want to do it your way," I tell her. I don't even have to think about it. I am not going to crawl into Robb Stark's bed, trusting his honor would shame him into marrying me the morning after. "I am not doing anything in any way. I do not want my marriage, whenever it happens, to start like that."
"Very well," Grandmother sighs, looking away from me. "But when the day comes, do not say that I did not warn you. If the Stark boy does not ask for your hand in marriage by the end of this ridiculous tournament, I will take care of your betrothal myself. And I can assure you, you will not fancy the man of my choosing, not as much as you fancy the Stark boy." She warns me.
"Why are you in such a rush?" I ask, feeling disgusted. "Would the whole world freeze offer if I am not married by my 20th nameday? Is my marriage truly such a valuable asset?"
"Yes."
Realizing that she will not say anything else, I stand up and fix my dress.
"Very well then," I tell her. "If he does not ask for my hand in marriage, you are free to do as you please. I am well aware that you do not need my permission, but do not be mistaken, Grandmother. I will remember this. If you sentence me to a man I do not want, I will remember that too. I may be a Tyrell, I may be your blood, but a thorn is a thorn, even if it is golden."
"Oh Clara, what did you expect?" Margaery asks me. I frown, watching her putting up dresses in front of her and seeing how they look on her, whilst staring at her reflection in the mirror. "You know how sharp her tongue is. You have been meddling with her nerves for days now."
"I have been meddling with her nerves?" I gasp. "Did you even listen to what I said? She is the one who has been pushing me, Margaery."
"I am sure that is how it feels for you." she tells me, looking away from her reflection to give me a compassionate smile.
"Does it even matter how it feels for anyone else?" I ask. "After all, it is my marriage."
"Perhaps she has a point." Margaery shrugs.
"Are you actually saying that you agree with her ridiculous suggestion?" I ask, wide eyed.
"No, not like that," she defends herself. "Perhaps a clearer sign to him would be a good action."
"What are you suggesting now?"
"Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps you should simply tell him the truth?" she asks me. I keep my mouth shut, expecting her to start laughing and say she was joking. She doesn't. "He seems reasonable enough. He is of noble birth, he must be going through the same thing you are."
"Oh yes, Lord Eddard did not stop pushing him my way ever since they got here," I retort bitterly.
"Clara," Margaery rolls her eyes. "I mean it. If you get along as well as you do, tell him the truth. "
"Alright," I sit up, leaning myself on the headboard of her bed, watching as she grabs another dress; this one is red. I don't think I've ever seen her in red. "What do you suggest I do? Oh, well hello there, Robb. Such a fine morning, isn't it? Did you enjoy the night's festivities? Oh, good, you did! Good, good, you'd better get used to it, because my entire family wants you to ask for my hand in marriage, and if the Tyrells are planning a wedding feast, you can be certain that it will be grand."
"Not like that," she rolls her eyes, yet again. "Perhaps something a bit less obvious, yes? Tell him the truth. Tell him that your family is looking for setting up a match for you."
"Marg, I'm pretty sure he already knows that." I sigh. Doesn't the entire world?!
"Make it clearer, then. Men always think there is time. More time for them to travel, more time for them to meet more beautiful girls. If you tell him that there is no time, he might just realize that the time has come for him to ask the question you want him to ask?"
"Or, perhaps, he will think nothing of it?" I suggest. "Based on what evidence did we come to the conclusion that he would want to marry me? I am certain he likes me well enough, but a harmless flirtation and a few smiles here and there are hardly a strong foundation for a marriage to be built on."
"Clara, if you are going to keep looking for a wrong in every right, I can't help you! " Margaery pouts.
"I have a suggestion!" I snap, forcing a smile. "Why don't you marry Robb Stark, and I will die alone, all lonely and wrinkly?"
"Darling, you know he will never be a King." She tells me, smiling kindly.
"Do you truly want a crown that much?" I ask. She has never bothered with keeping it a secret, but I never realized she would decline an offer from a large and important House, just because they do not have a crown. Somewhere along the way, as I was being miserable about my uncertain future, my younger sister decided she would become a Queen.
When Margaery decides something, there is no stopping her. I think that might be the only thing I envy about her. Her resolve is truly unbreakable. I have never met someone with more patience. Me? I'm too hot headed for my own good. I can be patient when I need to, but Margaery is a natural.
Perhaps it would be a good idea for her to be a Queen. After all, I'd rather see my sister in that position than someone else.
"I do," she confirms. "And I will get it."
"Well, I wish I had as much confidence with my issues," I say, sliding down the headboard and onto her bed, making my sister laugh. "I just… I don't want to do this. I like him, I can feel it. I like him. He is nice and smart; he's very easy on the eyes… I am not against it, nor would I be if he was to make it official. But it's one thing to silently hope for something and another to force him to it."
"Maybe you should listen to Grandmother, but only to a certain extent."
"I have no idea what you are trying to say."
"Well, getting into his bed would be a bit extreme, wouldn't it?" she asks.
"Yes, I think it would."
Are they insane? Did they forget that we are a noble family? If I get into his bed, I will give him the only thing that makes me an eligible bride! Well, my family's wealth helps, but me being a maiden makes me a… prize, I suppose. I cringe in slight digust at the notion.
"Well, why not do it half way?" she asks me. "Don't get into his bed, but don't stay silent either. If you keep it up this way, you'll get nowhere. Why not kiss him?"
"Kiss him?" I ask, fairly certain I didn't mishear it.
"Yes," she shrugs. "A kiss will not make you any less a maiden. And it might make the wheels in his head turn a bit faster. Clara, you do not have time to act like a proper little lady. The tournament will be over in days and if he does not invite you to visit Winterfell as soon as possible, you can forget about that match. You do not have enough time to let him figure things out at his own speed. You need to guide him if you want him to do what you want. You are not some quiet and shy little girl. You are a woman grown, smart and brave at that. Act like a woman that you are."
Margaery's words aren't much different than Olenna's, but unlike our Grandmother, Margaery chose them carefully. Seeing it from her point of view, well… perhaps my grandmother has a point.
"I once spent 13 nights and 14 days in a brothel." Tyrion states. I think, narrowing my eyes.
"That has to be the truth."
"Drink up, my lady," he laughs. I take a deep breath, lifting the cup up to my lips; I am on my second cup and judging by the way this game of Tyrion's is going, there are many more of them. "It was 12 nights and 13 days."
"You are not playing fair, my lord," I laugh. "Anyone would have believed in that statement."
"Anyone who knows me well enough," he adds. "Alright. Let's change it up. I say a statement about you and if I am right, I drink?" he suggests.
"And if you are wrong?"
"If I am wrong… I drink."
I will never understand how someone can't adore this man. Whether he is drunk or sober, he can make anything fun. Tonight would be just another night in a row, if I didn't have him to brighten everything up. Seeing how down I have felt over the last two days, I needed some fun to lighten my heavy thoughts.
"Anything to help you get drunk, my lord." I smile at him.
"Ah, that is why I like you as much as I do, Lady Clara," he laughs. "Alright. You have fallen in love with Robb Stark."
I am not even surprised.
"Drink up, my lord." I urge him.
"But is it the truth or not?"
"Do you drink if the answer is uncertain?" I ask, making him laugh. "I don't know anything anymore, my lord. My family wants me to… it is too complicated. The shortened version is that my wishes and my opinions are sometimes different from the ones my family has. And unfortunately, I am a Tyrell first and Clara second."
"My lady, admittedly, I do not know much about charming young lords," he starts, making me laugh at once. All I need is to imagine Tyrion trying to charm Robb and I could die from laughter. "But, I do know how men think, seeing that I am a man myself and that I have spent many day surrounded by them. Men are… stupid, my lady. Even the smart ones are stupid, especially when it comes to women. I did not have a chance to speak to young Lord Stark much, but I did see enough. He's one of those honorable types, like his father, so he will not know what you feel until you say it to him. Just as he will not know what your family wants, not unless you hint it to him."
"Well, at least you are not suggesting I should get into his bed." I mumble, without thinking. The moment those words leave my mouth, I want to pull them back in, but it is already too late.
"Well… that would probably be very effective," Tyrion responds and I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. "Effective, but unnecessary. I would suggest a more… modest approach."
"Modest?" I ask, watching as he nods his head whilst drinking from his cup. "Very well. Modest and honest?"
"Yes."
"Alright then. If I may be excused," I announce as I jump on my feet. Without giving in a second thought, I start walking towards the Stark table; they are always seated at the very same place. I don't give myself time to contemplate, knowing too well that I would manage to convince myself not to do it. If I have time to think, I will stop myself. And I need to do this. I need to, if I don't want to marry some old man twice my age.
If I am going to do this properly, I must pay attention to details. I was so wrapped up into Oberyn's 'lessons', I didn't even stop to consider other possible problems. He and I can love each other all the way to the stars and back, but if our families do not want us to be married, we will not be married. Now, my family might be looking forward to the day when they get to toss me into other arms, but I am fairly certain that Lord Stark does not harbor such wishes for his son.
If the words of his honor are true, and with what little I've seen of him, they seem to be, I doubt he would find joy in pushing his son into a marriage he didn't want.
Robb's not the only one I have to impress.
"Lord Stark," I smile as I approach. It may not mean much, but at least he greets me with a smile whenever he sees me. "How are you tonight? And where is little Lord Bran?" I ask, noticing that the boy was nowhere to be found. "He's not climbing any walls now, is he?"
"I hope not, Lady Clara," he chuckles. "I am doing very well, thank you. House Tyrell never fails when it comes to organizing lavish feasts. And how are you tonight?"
"I've known better days, I am afraid," I answer honestly, but I also offer him a smile. "As enjoyable as this tournament is, all the festivities have started to tire me a great deal. My feet hurt from all the dancing." I joke.
"Well, why don't you sit with us?" he suggests. "I'm sure my boys would agree."
Well, that is an understatement. Theon, Jon and Robb all mumble something in agreement, none of them giving me as much as a glance. Theon must be having a bad night, and after the conversation from two nights ago, I can understand Jon's reluctance. After all, I wasn't exactly nice. Robb not making eye contact is what hurts the most. And with the fact that it actually troubles me… I know am in too deep already.
"Thank you for the invitation, my Lord, but I was wondering if it would be possible for me to steal Robb from you, only for a little while?" I ask, careful not to look Robb's way; still, I notice him looking up in surprise. I watch Lord Eddard, not him. And when Lord Eddard smiles right away, the moment I stop talking, the smallest spark of hope springs in my breast. He likes me well enough, perhaps enough for his son.
"By all means, as long as you return him." he jokes.
"Ah, my plan is ruined," I pretend to be hurt, making Lord Eddard laugh. No one else even looks at us. "I will return him soon, you have my word."
"Shall we then?" Robb asks, all cordial but cold at the same time, as he stands up, looking at the table in front of him and not at me. I force a smile, even if no one was watching. He waits for me by the end of the table, offering a stiff arm. I link our arms and we start walking at once.
"For a moment, I thought you were avoiding me," I whisper, careful to not let anyone else hear us. "Now I am certain that you are avoiding me."
"I'm not, my Lady."
"Ah, so I'm a lady again," I notice. It is worse than I thought. "What happened to Clara?" I ask.
To my surprise, he does not respond. When he would speak, he wouldn't reveal much, but at least he would say something. Now, as we walk out into the hallway and he still doesn't say a word, I am starting to think that perhaps he and Jon are more alike than I first thought.
"Robb, tell me what is the matter," I sigh, finally drawing a look from him. "Your behavior is different. While I would never assume that I would be of such importance, you only act differently around me. Have I done something wrong?" I ask.
I didn't think about that, not until now. I thought he was hiding from me simply because he was embarrassed by his defeat, but Robb does not seem like the kind of man who would hide in shame. Perhaps I have done something to wrong him, without being aware of that. Jon could have told him the way I treated him the other night. That incident did not help my newfound, blossoming friendship with Robb's brother. Or perhaps he too had seen Oberyn's gift to me as more than it actually was.
"No, Clara, you did nothing wrong," he reassures me halfheartedly. "It is… I cannot talk about it here, someone could overhear us."
"Don't be silly," I tell him, opening the door to the balcony we were passing. I lead us outside. "Here. It is private enough for us to have a conversation without anyone eavesdropping, and public enough to not stir rumors. Good enough?"
"Clara, I…" he starts. As much as I want to interrupt him, I stay silent. I know how difficult it is to find the right words. "I was avoiding you." he finally admits.
"I've figured as much," I raise an eyebrow at him. "Now, why? Why would you do that?"
"Because I really wanted to be the one to give you that damned crown!" he snaps, confirming my earlier suspicions. "I didn't realize how much I wanted it until I saw Oberyn throwing it into your lap."
"Robb, it is a stupid bunch of flowers that will wither and fade and soon be forgotten," I tell him, keeping my voice calm. "I can't even begin to explain how little it means to me. If you were the one who gave it…" I pause for a moment, letting out a deep breath before I take the plunge. "It would have meant more and I would have kept it. But with Oberyn? It means nothing. It is just a stupid crown, from a stupid tournament. I didn't even keep it a day."
"But it does mean more than that," he looks away from me again. "You know what it means when man gives a maiden that crown."
"Yes. But with Oberyn, it meant nothing" I emphasize again. He sighs in annoyance; he seems to be annoyed by me not seeing things his way, so I decide to push on. "Robb, I am going to be honest with you. You are no idiot. Neither am I, nor our two families. My family plans to marry me off for an alliance. That is the way life goes. I have been warned that I do not have much time. Despite my opinion, they wish to have me betrothed by the end of this tournament, or at the very least, to begin a conversation of a possible betrothal." I tell him.
"I thought as much." he tells me. I'm not sure what I was expecting to hear, but… I had expected more enthusiasm than that. I would have been more surprised with him laughing.
"It is not fair," I speak up, realizing he was not going to say anything else. "I do not like it. If I could, I would change it, this very instant. But they are the ones who make the decisions. And as much as I would like for it to be different, I must respect those decisions. Whoever they chose, he will be my husband, from the day we marry until death pulls us apart."
How do you tell someone that you are interested in marrying them? I barely know him. Yes, what I do know, I like, very much. But there are so many things I do not know about him, most of them I could never even know, not unless we end up being married. Which side of the bed does he sleep on? What is his favorite food? Does he talk in his sleep? What is his favorite memory? If he could choose his own life and not have his family choose it for him, who would he be? Who would he be and where would he live? What would he do and who would he call his friend? Does he even want to be married? Does he even like me? What does he like about me? Does he like the idea of me being his wife?
So many questions, so few answers. Even if I had the courage to ask, he probably wouldn't have the courage to answer, and I could never blame him for that.
"Father spoke to me about it," he finally speaks up. And finally, he makes eye contact with me. His blue eyes aren't filled with joy, unfortunately. "He noticed and…"
"And?" I ask, knowing that I need to find out how this sentence ends.
"And he wanted to know my opinion," he tells me. "It is always the family of the husband who initiates talks, isn't it?"
"Actually, it's not," I smile, shaking my head. "Some families offer up their daughters on silver platters, but my family is too proud for that. Golden roses are not served for wolves, stags, krakens and lions to eat. They must be sought out and picked. As much as they might wish to get rid of me, they would never offer me like that. Their pride would never allow them. I'm afraid that my husband's family will have to do all the work." I say.
"Well, my father would be willing to do such work," he tells me. I manage to hold back a smile. I do not want to scare him away with it, but I want to smile so badly. "If we are to think like lord and lady, an alliance between House Stark and House Tyrell would be a good choice, " he concedes. "We have not had marriage alliances in the past. There might be quite the distance between our lands, but we would strengthen the existing, week alliance. We would strengthen our ties with the South and you would strengthen your ties with the North."
"No, we would build them," I shake my head. "There are no ties at the moment, Robb. The only tie between your house and mine is that we have never been directly at war against one another. Well, we have, once, but we were both fighting for other rulers."
"Even better," he nods his head. "Logistically… it makes perfect sense." He tells me.
"Why do I have a feeling that there is a 'but' coming my way?"
"But," he starts. Of course. "My father wants to hear my say. Unlike your family, Father plans to honor my opinion, if possible."
"And you are not interested."
If he is not going to say it, the least I can do is say it for him. I can't really blame him. It was fun. I liked it. I liked playing the little game we played. I liked playing the game with Oberyn, learning how men work and how they truly are much simpler than women. I thought he was my best option, but… he doesn't think the same way. And that is alright, I try to tell myself, though there is a tiny part of me that feels hurt.
But what was I expecting, after all? I have been next to Margery nearly the whole time.
"No!" he jumps up, looking slightly terrified. "No, Gods. Clara, no, it's not that!"
"So… you are interested?" I ask in confusion.
"Yes, of course I am," he tells me. The way he is saying it, his tone, he almost sounds surprised, surprised at me even questioning it. I imagine that Robb Stark cannot even begin to understand how insecure I actually am. "I am interested. I thought that was obvious."
"It wasn't."
"Well, I will do my best to correct that mistake," he smiles at me, but the smile disappears as fast as it had appeared. "The problem is… it is one thing to be interested and another one to marry."
"I understand that, Robb," I tell him. "I might understand that even better than you do. See, your father plans to take your opinion into consideration. My family will not do that. I am getting married either way, and soon," I tell him. As much as I am trying to make it sound different, it truly does sound as if I am telling him that if he doesn't choose me, I'll go for someone else. Even though that isn't the case at all. My grandmother will find someone else. "Ever since I was old enough to marry, I have been preparing myself for the possibility of marrying someone I barely even know. I have accepted that. I hate it, I truly do, but I have accepted it nonetheless. It isn't something I can change. I'm… I'm going to be too honest for my own good now, but… I like you, Robb. If I compared you with all the other options I have, I would gladly choose you over all of them. Why? Because I know you. I do not know you enough, not nearly enough as I would like, but compared to everyone else? I know you would treat me well. I know I would not cry myself to sleep every night. It may not sound like much, but to a woman, that means a lot. I have seen many, many marriages like that. That is my biggest fear. And with you, that biggest fear of mine… it would never come true. I know that. To me, that is enough. But like I said, I do not have a say. You do. So… I suppose I understand why that is not enough for you."
I can see it on his face. He didn't expect to hear the things he did. I don't think he ever expected to have this kind of conversation, at least not with me. In all honesty, I never thought that a day would come when I would say all these things to a man I wanted as a husband. It doesn't feel comfortable, but he needs to hear this. He needs to know that if I had a choice, he would be my choice. Not because of land or his name. Simply because I think he is a good man. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Clara, don't think I don't want to marry you."
"I'm trying, but it sure does sound like that," I mumble, trying my hardest to hide utter disappointment. I might pretend, but I am not as good as my sister is. As hard as I try, I am sure he is able to see my hurt. "I suppose it doesn't matter. I will… like I said, I will be married off either way. Do not think I will hold anything against you. Seven hells, if I were you, even I would look for a better option," I laugh, feeling my chest slowly rising in panic. I need to get away from here, right now. "You should go back to the feast. I have to retire for the night."
I turn around and as I start walking away, he pulls me by the hand. His pull isn't gentle; my entire body falls against his, chest to chest, nose to nose. I look up at him, staring at those blue eyes of his. I don't even have a chance to move before he kisses me.
I have been kissed before. Oberyn held the honor as my first, having kissed me every single time we greet or say good bye to each other. But that had been just the tiniest brush of lips. Nothing more than that. And it meant nothing, not to either one of us.
This is something different. Robb's lips aren't as harsh as Oberyn's. His movements are not casual, not at all. I may have barley anything to compare this kiss to, but I am fairly certain that this kiss means something.
He just… he takes over me. With each passing second, I feel my body relax and I know I am starting to lose control over my movements as my fingers grip at his shoulder and a hand slips to his back. I don't even care for the open door, or the fact that anyone could pass by and see us like this. It could end us, but I don't care. I simply don't care.
He is the one who pulls away and I feel relief when I notice him having difficulty breathing; I'm not the only one. His hands are still on my waist and I watch in surprise as a smile grows on his face.
"Father will speak to your family," he tells me. "I will tell him to do so. He will ask on my behalf for your hand in marriage. And if for whatever reason they decide not to agree, you will always be the first woman I have ever kissed. Good night, Clara," he smiles at me, brighter than the Dornish sun, before walking away, leaving me alone on the balcony.
It takes me a moment to realize what happened.
He just kissed me. He wants to marry me. Seven hells, he probably will marry me!
This is what I wanted. I told him as much. Out of all the options I have, he is the one I want. He is the one my family would not throw me to; him, I would choose. I might not be madly in love with him, but as I pointed out, I am still getting to know him. People do not always fall madly in love with one another. I like him. I smile when I think of him. I blush when he compliments me. Since I lack experience when it comes to love, for all I know, I might be madly in love with him, but I didn't realize it just yet. And even if I'm not, if we like each other so much now, who is to say we won't fall in love with more time?
I would be happy if he is the one I wake up next to. I would be happy to become a part of his family; the members I have met have been more than lovely. Even our children would have a strong chance of being quite handsome.
It worked. I don't know if it was Oberyn's advice or simple honesty, but it had worked.
"Clara?" I hear a voice and when I snap out of my daze, I see Loras standing next to me.
"Hey." I smile at him.
Loras's eyes are often full of judgment. I know he means nothing by it, but when he frowns at me in such a way, I can't help but feel annoyed. This time, it didn't even bother me, however.
"Why are you smiling like that?" he asks me.
"Am I?" I ask, touching my face. I am. I have a wide smile and I have a feeling it has been plastered on my face since Robb walked away. No, it must have been there since the kiss. It must have been. "Oh. Well, I suppose I am happy."
"Clara, am I missing something?" Loras laughs. "What could be so funny about standing alone on the balcony?" he asks, teasing me, as always.
"Not much," I shake my head, but I feel the smile. It's starting to hurt me now. "Not much, I promise."
"Clara…" he tells me in a warning tone. I start laughing.
"Loras, I think I'm getting married."
See you soon, guys.
By the way, it still isn't over :)