"Which do you think, Margaery? The green or the gold?"

"I am not sure, cousin, do you have a preference yourself?"

Margaery sighed inwardly. Her female cousins had come to her chambers today in order to determine which dresses they would wear to her wedding. In truth, Margaery could not care less. As the day drew nearer, there seemed to be more and more intricate preparations to be made and more elaborate details to be added. Margaery wondered how Cersei Lannister had managed to be queen for almost two decades and remain so out of touch with the people she ruled and their situation. Margaery was no pious maid: the charity work she carried out was as much about enhancing her own reputation and status as it was about helping the poor, but she was not without compassion. Faced with the reality of the lives of the King's Landing poor, and contrasting this with the opulence being lavished on one day, made her wonder how the crown had escaped a successful insurrection. She had certainly not planned for an austere wedding, but this was too far in the other direction.

"Margaery! Are you not listening? Perhaps, crimson and gold would be best – then our gowns would match your wedding cloak."

Margaery had been incredulous when she had heard she was to be cloaked in Lannister colours. Of course, Tywin and Joffrey remained wilfully oblivious of Joff's true parentage, but when she thought of how her mind had been occupied with countering the rumours of his illegitimacy when she had first arrived in King's Landing… She rose, and made for the door, turning to her surprised cousins:

"I suggest you clothe yourselves in the colours of house Baratheon. After all, I am marrying a Baratheon King."

She stood, unsure of where she was going, but very sure she needed to leave. She did not know why her cousins had provoked such strong irritation in her; they were simply young, excitable girls and had not been behaving any differently from usually. It must have been this wedding and everything to do with it! She thought she might go to the gardens and walk until her head felt clear, but, at that moment, a servant opened the door and announced the arrival of the Queen. Cersei strode in, surveying the room with a superior look on her face. As she took in Margaery, a triumphant gleam appeared in her eyes, which told the younger woman she must be on her guard.

"Margaery, my dear, are you well? You looked flushed. I hope you have not caught a fever."

"I thank you for your friendly concern Queen Cersei. You yourself look radiant"

"Radiant? Why radiant?"

"It is a word that came to mind."

Margaery moved towards the older woman and took her arm, ignoring the way Cersei tensed. She beamed at the queen.

"We're going to be sisters soon, we should be friends."

Cersei sneered at her, and Margeary knew she should stop herself here, but, somehow, she could not. She felt as if there was a small, smouldering fire of rebellion beginning to spark inside her, and she did not feel like being careful at all. She smiled broadly.

"My cousins are here to decide on what clothes they shall wear for the royal wedding. Have you an outfit in mind? Perhaps, you are considering something green and gold yourself, since you shall be a Tyrell before long. And, Gods be good, a grandmother soon after."

Cersei was now looking at her with undisguised rage; she moved forward and, in a voice that no one else could hear, snarled:

"Hold your tongue, you stupid little whore, or I will see it ripped out! Do you really think I will let them ship me off to Highgarden? Be assured there are no lengths I will not go to avoid marriage to your brother. As for you, call me sister again, and I shall have you strangled in your sleep."

Then, as if nothing had happened, Cersei moved away from her and helped herself to a glass of wine. Margaery glanced at her cousins and hoped none of them could see her shaking. In as light a voice as she could muster, she said:

"Do you know, I do feel slightly hot. I think it would be best if I took some air; I bid you all good day."

She left and walked towards the gardens; she needed to clear her head. The look in Cersei's eyes as she had spoken to her had reminded Margaery all too well of Joffrey. Gods, why did Renly have to die? She tried to think it for a minute, tried to tell herself that she simply regretted how difficult and dangerous her new spouse would be, but she could not. Even imagining herself by Renly's side as he claimed the iron throne, she could not suppress a pang of regret.

From the other side of a tall hedge, she heard an eager exclamation:

"Could you see the whole world, uncle?!"

There was a low rumble of laughter which caused her stomach to flip.

"I am afraid not, Tommen, if you remember, it was often very cloudy in the North: the top of the Wall was far above the clouds, so, really, you could not see much – at least, of what was to the south."

Margaery knew she should walk away, but the reckless feeling which had pervaded her since she had risen from her seat in her chambers compelled her to stay. She rounded the hedge and came face to face with Tommen Baratheon and Tyrion Lannister. Tommen beamed at her happily; she wondered how such a sweet boy survived here and how long it would be before he was either embittered or destroyed. She noticed her was cradling a cat in his lap.

"Lady Margaery! Uncle Tyrion has helped me find Ser Pounce, and now he has been telling me all about the Wall. You know, it's one of Lomas Longstryders nine man-made wonders? Have you ever seen the Hightower, Lady Margaery? Since you are from the Reach, I mean."

"Indeed, I have, prince Tommen. In fact, my mother was a Hightower before she married my father. It is a very imposing sight."

Tyrion spoke:

"I have no doubt that it is, Lady Margaery. I myself have not had occasion to visit Oldtown, although when I was younger, I did harbour a notion to become a Maester… Well, Grand Maester if I am being honest – I am a Lannister, after all."

As she smiled at his jape she could not help her mind wandering. The idea of being Queen attended personally by Tyrion as Grand Maester presented several intriguing possibilities…

She managed to drag herself back to reality as Tommen spoke again.

"So, of the nine wonders, you have only seen the Wall, uncle. If you could see one more, which would it be?"

"The Titan of Braavos," Tyrion answered immediately, and his face acquired a wistful expression, which, she could not help think, made him look somewhat boyish and very appealing. Tommen turned a worried face to her.
"Lady Margaery, you won't tell Joffrey Ser Pounce has been running off, will you? He always says it's pathetic and childish to keep pet cats."

Margaery patted his shoulder.

"I shall not breathe a word, my prince. What's more, my own brother has always loved cats and had a pet tabby when he was around your age. He used to catch small fish in the Mander to feed to it. He rescued it from the kitchens of Highgarden when it emerged it was unable to catch mice."

Tommen looked entranced.

"Ser Loras had a pet cat? Truly?"

"Truly, you can ask him about it yourself the next time you see him."

She was aware that Tyrion had kept his eyes on her throughout her discussion with Tommen, and she smiled at him now. He briefly reciprocated and rose to his feet.

"I think, since Ser Pounce has been found, we should return him to the safety of his basket."

Tommen nodded and hurried ahead of them, clutching the cat to his person.

"He seems very protective of the creature."

"Yes, Joffrey killed his previous cat."

Tyrion said the words rapidly, without looking at her. Margaery was horrified, and before she could stop herself the words were out.

"Joffrey truly is his mother's son."

Tyrion looked at her, concern plain on his face.

"My lady, forgive me, but is something troubling you? I cannot help but notice that you seem somewhat overwrought.'

Margaery breathed a laugh.

"I suppose you could say something is troubling me, though it is many things, really. Tell me, Tyrion, do you think your sister is capable of ending my brother's life?"

If Margery had been hoping for reassurance, she was to be disappointed. Tyrion's expression was grave.

"More than capable – do you have reason to suspect she is going to?"

Margaery gave another shaky laugh.

"Other than the fact all know she protested loudly at the match and sees it as a destruction of her power as Queen Regent and her influence over her sons? Yes, she more or less just told me she was planning to get rid of him."

Tyrion's expression showed that his mind was working.

"I happen to know she has been communicating with someone in secret of late; I wonder if it could be in relation to this. Lady Margaery, are all in Highgarden loyal to your family?"

Margaery smiled crookedly.

"In Highgarden – yes, but the Reach as a whole is a different matter. There are those who feel House Tyrell does not have the strongest claim and have looked for ways to overthrow us."

"I have no doubt, shrewd as your grandmother is, that she would have ways of checking on these families, if she needed to."

"Your certainty is not misplaced, although it would be useful to know more specifically whom we are talking about."

"I shall see what I can do, my lady."

This time Margaery gave him a genuine smile. The one he gave in return seemed to light up his whole face, and she wondered for a second why it was not obvious to everyone how handsome he was. Their gazes locked for a second, then he looked away and laughed.

"Have no fear, my lady: I can assure you it is not in my father's plan that Cersei should dispose of your brother and deprive him of his chance to have a grandchild as heir to Highgarden. And if that is not reassuring enough, I can tell you she attempted my life – and father fully approved – yet I am still here."

"Gods, Tyrion! Why do they hate you so?"

She was often irritated by the way Tyrion was treated by most members of his family, for no good reason she could determine. She had spoken strongly, because that feeling of recklessness was growing within her the longer she spent in his presence. He looked up at her, his eyes large and round as they had been when she almost kissed him.

"I am sure they have their reasons – it seems, I am an easy man to hate. Still, I thank you for your pity."

This was the spark that set alight the smouldering fire within her, burning her caution and care. She had enough presence of mind to look about her: Tommen had left them far behind. She turned to Tyrion, her heart hammering.

"Where is Bronn, is he close by?"

"I have no idea! I imagine not."

"Good, I do not want to be interrupted this time."

With that, she leant down, took his face in both hands and brought his lips to hers. For an instant, he did not react, and then his mouth opened, and they were kissing with an intense and urgent passion. She allowed her hands to tangle in his hair, something she had imagined doing many times since the evening she had attended him in his chambers. She pushed him closer to her, feeling his lips and tongue move against her mouth with vigour and skill. His hands moved to her shoulders, squeezing them gently. After what may have been moments or hours, they broke the embrace, and he gazed at her, breathing heavily. She too was gasping.

"Tyrion, believe me, you invoke many feelings within me. But pity is not one of them."

With that. she turned and left, not trusting herself in his presence any longer.

Margaery's mind was in turmoil as she returned to her family's apartments. She had been bold many times in her life, but she was sure that, never before, had she come close to being so reckless. At the same time, she could not find it in her to berate herself harshly – not when she thought of how Tyrion's lips had felt on hers, how it had been to be pressed so close to him. She felt as if she was trembling all over, and whether it was shudders of pleasure or fear of potential consequences she could not have said.

Having returned to her chambers in such a tumultuous state, she had been hoping to find them deserted. However, her cousins were still in attendance, although, mercifully, Cersei was long gone. Margaery knew she would have to speak to her grandmother about the Queen's plot at some point. Her only hesitation was relating anything to do with Tyrion. She knew Loras had guessed her feelings toward the little Lannister, so it would be correct to assume that Olenna was also aware of her inclination. She gave her cousins a beaming smile and sat down, hoping they would be gone soon. Her earlier recklessness had subsided, but she could not say she felt calm. Where before she had been uneasy regarding Loras's betrothal, now she was afraid. Where before she had disliked Cersei, now she felt hatred. Where before she had been accepting, albeit with rapidly diminishing enthusiasm, of her own betrothal, now she was desperate for a way out. However, she knew one would not be forthcoming. Instead, she must somehow endure.

Finally right?! I hope everyone also enjoyed Tommen the adorable making another appearance, he's such an enabler for JS and TM fluff!

Thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited or reviewed. I really love hearing people's thoughts on the story : )