Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones or the A Song of Ice and Fire series.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is reading this story, I really appreciate it. As always, feel free to review and tell me your thoughts on this chapter. Enjoy. :)

Chapter Fourteen

The days after Loras left were quiet for Olyvar. He kept an eye out for Margaery at court, but she seemed content surrounded by her ladies. He had little to do in those first days, and he found himself missing Loras more and more as time went by.

About a week after Loras had left, some disturbing happenings became known around the court. The old High Septon had died, apparently under suspicious circumstances. Some said that he had been killed, and they wondered uneasily who could have done it.

Olyvar wouldn't have cared very much about these tidings, but the other news troubled him enough that he paid it more mind than he usually would have. Since the war, more and more refugees had come to King's Landing. Among them were a large group for poor, extremely religious peasants who called themselves Sparrows. They had taken over the Sept of Baelor, and the new High Septon was their leader. Only a day later, the sparrows attacked a brothel in the city, the courtiers said, and it seemed that the queen regent had decided to bankroll the sparrows, therefore allowing them to reform the Faith Militant.

Olyvar, although not an avid student of history, knew well enough that in the old days, the Faith Militant had caused the realm a lot of trouble. They had fought against Targaryen rule for many years, and had been disbanded, leaving the crown to deal with all forms of justice.

Despite the fact that the courtiers were uneasy, things seemed to go on as normal in the Red Keep. Olyvar kept a closer eye on Margaery, and after a few days, she seemed to notice his concern.

He had seen her taking a stroll alone in the gardens and so had followed her at a distance, remembering his promise to Loras that he would protect his sister. Margaery turned her head and saw him, and she smiled when she caught his gaze.

"Ser Olyvar, come," She said. "Walk with me, since you seem to be intent on it." Her tone was light, and her smile brightened as he joined her.

"I apologise if I am intruding, my lady, it was not my intent." He said, giving her a small bow.

"Not at all ser Olyvar. In truth, I am glad to see a friendly face, especially now that my brothers are gone."

Olyvar frowned slightly at the mention of Loras's absence. He felt uneasy whenever he thought of it, although he couldn't figure out why that would be so. He had felt safe with Loras near him, but now, he felt oddly alone, and vulnerable.

"Ser Olyvar?" Margaery asked, giving him a concerned glance. "Are you quite well?"

Olyvar blinked, and then nodded, snapping out of his thoughts. "Yes, of course, I am quite well, my lady. I simply miss the company of your brother as you do."

Margaery nodded, giving him a knowing smile. "I'm sure you do," She said. "I know how close you two are."

Olyvar couldn't help the flush that rose to his cheeks at that. Despite the fact that he and Loras had been lovers for a while, anyone else mentioning the fact made him nervous.

Seeing his expression, Margaery laughed. "Oh, there is no need to blush so. My brother tells me everything, ser Olyvar, well...almost everything, anyway."

"I used to be the same way with my brother," Olyvar admitted, smiling a little. "He and I were always close. Most people mistook us for twins, though he is two years my senior."

Margaery smiled at that. "Your brother is the heir of Old Oak, correct? He rode with Garlan and Loras to take Riverrun."

Olyvar shrugged. "Yes, that's right, though I wasn't sure if he'd ridden with them. We...well, my brother and I are not so close as we once were." He sighed, his expression turning troubled. His feelings were always mixed these days when he thought of his brother, but in this moment, all he could feel for him was guilt and weary acceptance that their relationship would never be the same.

"Oh? And why is that?" Margaery asked as the two of them turned a corner. Olyvar glanced at her, and sighed, trying to find the right words to explain.

"Well, things were fine until our mother died. As I said, we were close and then...well, we weren't. My mother died from a sickness, and well...my brother had just returned from a visit to Dorne, where the same sickness was raging. I shouldn't have, but I blamed him for my mother's death. It wasn't his fault of course, I've realised that, but at the time I suppose I wasn't thinking straight. After that, he and I just couldn't go back to the way we'd been before and I was sent to foster with lord Royce."

Margaery looked at him, her gaze a mixture were sympathy and sadness. "THAT is a great pity. Perhaps some day, you two will reconnect, and forgive past wrongs done to you."

"Perhaps," Olyvar sighed as they stepped out of the garden. "But I fear that day will never come."

Margaery was about to reply, but then, without warning, figures were appearing from the shadows all around them. They were not guards, Olyvar saw that straight away, and nor were they nobles. For a moment, he was bewildered, until he saw the seven-pointed star carved into one man's forehead. These, he released with mounting worry, were the sparrows, the newly reformed Faith Militant.

"Lady Margaery of house Tyrell," One man said, stepping forward. "We are here to arrest you in the name of the Faith, for crimes committed against gods and men. You have lied and deceived the people of this city, and you must pay the gods' price for your sins Come with us quietly and no harm shall be done to you."

Olyvar acted at once, drawing his blade and stepping in front of Margaery protectively. The Faith Militant didn't draw back, indeed their leader took a step forward.

"This is your future queen," Olyvar snapped, glaring at them. "Stand down, or I will fetch the Goldcloaks to clear you out of the castle like the filth you are."

His words were harsh, in the hopes of intimidating them, but it only seemed to anger them further. Many of them drew crude weapons, and they all took steps forward, forming a tight circle around him and Margaery.

"Stand down, ser," The leader warned him. "You are interfering in the justice of the gods. If you do not step aside, we will have no choice but to take you both by force."

"I will not stand down," He replied. "Your allegations are unfounded, you will be the one to stand down. You have no right to be here, leave or things will go badly for you."

The leader said not another word, instead swinging out at Olyvar with a crude wooden club. Olyvar cut him down swiftly with a single blow from his sword, only to find three more of them blocking his way, and two others already holding Margaery back. He kept fighting, hoping that help would soon come, but it would seem that his hope was in vain. As he felt something hard strike the back of his head, his last thought before he lost consciousness was that he'd failed Loras, and that he was sorry, and that he hoped Loras knew he'd tried his best even if his best had not been enough.