And a third Margaery chapter. Don't worry, she's not becoming the sole POV of this story, but I thought that seeing events taking place in King's Landing from her perspective rather than Tyrion's would be more interesting, since Tyrion is the only POV in King's Landing during ACOK.
I recently reached 200 people who put me of their favourite author list, and this story reached the cap of 1,000 favourites. "A Rose and a Lion" is also part of 10 communities on . I want to thank everyone who supported me by reading, following, favouriting, and/or reviewing this fanfiction.I never thought it would have so much success.
MARGAERY XVII
She looked over the city from the balcony of their private apartments. Two days after the riots in Flea Bottom, the dust was still settling down. Patrols were constant in the streets, and peace was kept. Margaery had gone to visit the families of the victims yesterday, and she made a short visit to the orphanage where she was when the troubles began this morning. People were on the edge, afraid that another tragedy might happen, or that the gold cloaks might commit other atrocities. The situation would have been unbearable had there been a famine in the city. Margaery reassured everyone she met that the criminals who made these crimes had been dealt with, and the same message was being carried by heralds everywhere in the city. Janos Slynt and all his known associates were expelled from the city Watch and sent to the Wall, but would it be enough? The City Watch was corrupted, and Ser Jacelyn Bywater would need time to cleanse it. Still, they got rid of the origin of the plague, and with Slynt and his colleagues gone, Cersei wasn't in position to cause problems like before.
She wore one of her gowns in the fashion of the Reach, made of fine green silk, that formed a triangle just above her breasts. The green silk left her arms bare. She had to appear with the colors and fineries from her father's family today. Most of the time, she alternated between clothes and colors befitting a lady from Highgarden and from Casterly Rock, and she often wore pieces from both kingdoms to display her allegiances. Today, everything on her spoke of her Tyrell upbringing, safe for one, the ring at her hand, the ring that Tyrion gave her on their wedding day.
Sera's head appeared through the opening of the door. "Lady Margaery, Lord Baelish is here to see you."
"Bring him in," she told her handmaiden. She went to sit to a nearby table. A chair had been positioned strategically face to hers in prevision of this conversation. Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin, came inside, a smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. Margaery had understood a while ago that the feelings this man displayed on his face rarely reflected those of his eyes.
"Lady Lannister." He made the appropriate bow, still smiling.
"Lord Baelish. Thank you for coming," she replied dryly. She gestured for him to sit, and he did.
"I must admit that I was intrigued to receive your word. I didn't think you would wish for another conversation between us after the last we had."
He didn't need to remind her. She remembered his words very clearly. It is horrible to lose a child, but I don't believe it is really better to have none. "Believe me, Lord Baelish, I didn't make you come because I wanted to. I summoned you because I had to."
His smile grew wider. "Everyone needs the Master of Coin, though no one loves him."
"It's not the Master of Coin I need right now. It is Petyr Baelish that I need, and his connections and relations."
A spark of interest, and even avidity, burst into his eyes. "Oh, that is interesting indeed."
"My lord husband asked me to see you. He has an important mission for you, a mission he deems vital for the Realm."
"And what would be this mission?"
"He needs you to convince Lysa Arryn to marry her son to Princess Myrcella. Lady Arryn is not very fond of the Lannisters, but I heard she is fond of you. There are even rumors that she got you your first position at Gulltown."
"Lysa and I have known each other for quite some time. I grew up at Riverrun as a ward, and she trusts me. It is true that she played some role in my first nomination." He made a pause, as if he was thinking about it. "Yes, I could sing this song to Lysa, if I cared to."
"But you will not," Margaery cut him short before he could continue. He faked surprise.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, my lady."
"This is what my husband wants, but what I want and what my husband wants, to the opposite of what I say to most of the people, are not the same." She noticed another spark in his eyes, this time of excitment. "I want you to accept so he allows you to travel to the Vale, but once there, you will make no marriage proposal."
Littlefinger crossed his fingers. "And what am I supposed to do then?"
Margaery leaned forward. "Intercede in my favor and House Tyrell's to the Lady of the Vale. Lysa Arryn is the sister of Lady Catelyn Stark, and the mother-in-law of Robb Stark. I need you to convince her to talk for me to her son-in-law. And Tyrion mustn't know."
"And why would you need this? More important, why would your husband need to be unaware of that?"
Margaery took her time to answer. "We both know about the rumors spreading about the king. Tell me, Lord Baelish, do you truly think no one will believe it?"
"I think that Robb Stark, and probably the Tullys and Renly, will believe Ned Stark's word over Joffrey's."
"I've been married for over three years now, Lord Baelish. You remember this discussion we had during Joffrey's name day?"
"I do, my lady."
"I love my husband, Lord Baelish, as strange as it may seem, considering he is a dwarf. However, I'm not ready to follow his family to the grave, and to bring my family with me in their downfall. And after what happened a few days ago, with Cersei who ordered the death of so many children… I don't want me and my family to be associated with this, and I don't want us to fall with House Lannister if Stannis wins."
"So, you're looking for a last resort solution in case things go wrong?" he suggested.
"I want to make sure that my family survives no matter how the war ends," she corrected. "Stannis will never hear me unless me and my whole family join his cause, and this is not an option. The Starks believe I took part in Ned Stark's demise. They won't listen to me. Lysa, on the other hand, if I offer her something in return, and if you talk sense into her, she might speak for me to Robb Stark. He's leading most of the rebels' forces as we speak, and his word will have great weigh if Stannis is victorious."
"And what will you offer her, my lady?"
"The heads of the people who murdered Lord Arryn."
She saw a flash of something in his eyes. It wasn't excitment, or interest, but something she couldn't remember seeing into the eyes of the Master of Coin before. For one moment, Margaery thought that Littlefinger was afraid. It only lasted a moment. He returned very quickly to his usual self.
"Do you know who did this?" he asked, looking more interested than anything else again.
Margaery shot him an enigmatic smile, but she didn't reply. She knew how to keep secrets and to make people understand that it would need a lot for her to reveal something. Littlefinger seemed to realize that she would say nothing, so he finally gave an answer to her request.
"That might be enough for Lysa, though she will certainly want to know the identity of the assassins."
"I am sure you can convince her to wait," Margaery said dismissively.
"I could, but why would I? Why should I take such a long and uncertain path when instead I could tell all of it to Lord Tyrion?"
"Try, Lord Baelish, he will not believe you. You know Lord Tyrion, you said it yourself. He was one of your best customers. Tell him anything I just told you, and I will deny it. Who do you think he's going to believe? You, a brothelkeeper? Or the woman he loves?"
"You seem quite certain of your husband's feelings?"
"I now Tyrion better than anyone."
"You cover well your angles, my lady. Still, why would I do that? Why would I risk everything, my position and my life, for you?"
"What about Harrenhal?"
"Harrenhal?" She didn't show her satisfaction, but she noticed the glimmer of ambition in the man's eyes.
"A few chosen words whispered into my husband's ear and it is yours. Joffrey stripped the Whents from Harrenhal to grant it to Janos Slynt, and Janos Slynt gave up any claim on it. The castle and its lands are vacant. We can give it to whoever we want since the Riverlands are in rebellion. The question is, will you take it?"
"Harrenhal is cursed," Littlefinger pointed out.
"I never took you for a superstitious man. You can tear it down and rebuild it if you want. You have the means for it." She stared right into his eyes, defiantly. "You will not get Harrenhal without my help. Stannis will never grant you the castle, no matter what you do. The best you can hope if he wins is to remain Master of Coin, and since you betrayed Ned Stark, I'm not sure he will even grant you this favor. The Starks will never help you either if they learn of your involvement in Ned Stark's demise. You could ask Cersei or Joffrey, but the king is not interested in ruling and Cersei's power is dwindling. They won't be able to do anything without Tyrion's consent and mine, and unless you give me a reason to, I will do nothing to promote your ascension, Lord Baelish. In fact, I will do everything to stop it. Tyrion doesn't like you. He despises people who betray Hands of the King. He mistrusts them. I am your only choice. This is not an opportunity that will see again soon."
He looked uncertain, and didn't speak. "So, it is settled then. You will leave for the Vale, convince Lysa to speak on my behalf to the Starks. As for the proposal of marriage, convince her to accept."
"Didn't you want me to…"
"I want you to convince her to accept the betrothal, but nothing more. Betrothals can be cancelled. Just make her accept it in private, but don't let her announce it in the Vale. Let the Iron Throne be the only one to make it public. As long as Lysa doesn't acknowledge it publicly, she can easily withdraw. Tyrion will grant you Harrenhal this way, and we will both get what we want."
"Well, it's feasible. I will talk to Lysa, don't worry, and I will make her see my point. Do you have need of me for anything else?"
"No. You may leave." As Littlefinger proceeded like he was instructed, Margaery stopped him. "Oh, Lord Baelish. Lord Tyrion and the queen must know nothing of our discussion. Is that clear?"
"It is clear, my lady."
He left for good. Margaery sighed and smiled at the same once the door was closed. She hoped that she played her role well. She wondered what Baelish would do next. Who would he speak to? She was eager to see it. Perhaps Cersei would come enraged to see her, or perhaps Tyrion would jokingly talk to her about certain revelations the Master of Coin made to him. Or perhaps Cersei would go to Tyrion and tell him about a few revelations Baelish made to her. They would know soon enough.
Margaery had something else to do now. Tyrion left her a letter to transmit, a letter of the utmost importance. She took it on his desk and left their apartments. She climbed down the many stairs of the Tower of the Hand, walked through a good part of the Red Keep, and climbed up the many stairs leading to the Grand Maester's chambers, right beneath the rookery. She wondered how Pycelle managed to use all these stairs. He had to go down and up at least half a dozen times every day. She was surprised that the old man was still capable of it. He barely seemed able to walk.
She found the Grand Maester preparing some mixture at his desk. He didn't acknowledge her presence when she entered. She stood right in front of him, but he wasn't aware, or willingly ignored her presence.
"Grand Maester."
He almost jumped out of surprise, but didn't topple the solution he was working on. "Oh, my lady. Please, forgive me. With my age, it becomes quite difficult to focus on something and be aware of what's happening around at the same time. What can I do for you, my lady?"
She handled him the letter she hid in the fold of her dress. "Lord Tyrion wants you to send this message to Sunspear immediately."
Pycele took the letter with his shaking hands, but before Margaery or he could say anything, Ser Lancel Lannister burst into the room. "Grand Maester, is it ready?"
Pycelle looked very surprised, and uneasy. "Oh, yes, of course. It will be ready soon. Please wait outside, ser."
"It seems ready enough for me." The new knight brazenly seized the flask on the desk without asking permission.
"Ser, I am discussing important matters with Lady Margaery," the Grand Maester protested.
"I'm on official queen's business. Lady Margaery can wait, I'm sure."
He looked at her as if he was towering her, which wasn't the case. Lancel Lannister wasn't taller than she was. "Dear Lancel, it's a pleasure to see you. Tyrion and I didn't have the opportunity to see you often since you were knighted."
"I'm very busy."
"Yes, I'm sure your new duties as a knight are quite demanding, after serving the king's wine for years."
He felt insulted, and that was visible on his face. Tyrion had a very bad influence on her. Margaery didn't need to look at the flask to suspect what was in it. She had observed the herbs that lied on Pycelle's desk as she waited for him to react to her presence, and she knew these herbs. It wasn't rare that they were used in Highgarden.
"Perhaps you could dine with us tonight, Lancel," she suggested, keeping her gentle and sweet behaviour.
"I don't have time for this. I'm a knight now."
He left without bowing. It seemed the knighthood had gotten to his head. Perhaps he had some bad influence as well. Margaery looked back to Pycelle.
"I'm truly sorry, my lady."
"That's nothing. I'll deal with him myself."
"Ser Lancel is at the personal service of the queen. I would be careful if I were you, my lady."
"Since we're talking about Cersei, I must ask you something Pycelle. In fact, it is the Hand of the King who's asking it. The destiny of the Realm may depend on your decision."
"Yes, I understand."
"No one must know about the content of this letter."
"Of course. I am bound to secrecy, my lady."
"Not even the queen." His expression grew far more serious than before. "Our king's reign could be in danger if Cersei learned of what is in this letter. There's too much at stake. Can we trust you on that, Pycelle?"
"Oh, yes, you can. I shall be silent as the grave."
"Thank you. We appreciate your loyalty and your service, Grand Maester."
"I shall always be loyal to the Realm, my lady, and to the king's family as a matter of consequence."
She nodded slightly to show she got the message, and she left. She made a detour by the gardens to give enough time to her husband. When she came back to their chambers, Lord Varys was leaving.
"Oh, Varys, remember…" Tyrion began.
"The queen mustn't know. My lord, my lady." He bowed to each of them and left. When they were alone, Tyrion looked at her.
"Done?" he asked.
"Done. What about you?"
"Done as well."
They only had to wait now. "What news from the North?"
"It seems the Tullys didn't move for now. The Starks are marching south, as we expected. The Tullys are probably waiting for them to attack the Crownlands. Stafford's army at the Golden Tooth probably forces them to keep their forces on their lands."
"Let's hope my father's armies can arrive in time."
"Yes, the time. That's what matters. Let's hope we get our answer soon, and then we can send the emissary in the North. This may slow down Robb Stark a bit."
Cersei refused to send an ambassador to Robb Stark after Margaery and Tyrion exiled Janos Slynt. She refused their terms, no matter what they were, which was no surprise since for Cersei the only acceptable terms were that Robb Stark and his allies bent the knee unconditionally. The concept that she or Joffrey could do something wrong seemed foreign to her.
The truth was they needed to neutralize Cersei's power and influence more than ever. She had no military power left. The City Watch and the red cloaks were firmly into hers and Tyrion's hands, but Cersei still had political support, and that was what they needed to destroy right now. And Margaery had an idea to help them in their goal.
"Tyrion, can you think of any reason why Cersei would drink Moon Tea?"
Tyrion stared back at her. "Moon Tea?"
"Pycelle was preparing something for her. Your cousin Lancel came to take it just when I gave him your letter. He said it was for the queen."
"Are you sure this was Moon Tea?"
"I'm sure. I recognized the herbs he used to make it. Lomys used to make some back in Highgarden."
"Really?" He seemed interested al of a sudden. She smiled at him.
"Don't worry. He never made some for me. Except once, but I had asked him some for a friend."
Tyrion relaxed. He believed her without question. "So, my sister is drinking Moon Tea, and it was Lancel who came to take it from Pycelle." He smirked at her.
"You think that's him?"
"You saw a Lannister sword on her bed. It seems Stannis wasn't entirely wrong. My sister is sleeping with a Lannister, but not the one he thought."
"Lancel." Margaery looked outside. "First, he kills Robert using strongwine, then he shares the bed of the queen. I pity Kevan," she said on a low tone. "We should send him away."
"Lancel could be useful to us," her husband observed. "And if everything goes accordingly, Cersei won't remain in the capital for long."
"The sooner she leaves the better." She sighed. "Tyrion, I've been thinking about Sansa lately."
"Yes, me too." They both sat close to each other. "How is she?"
"Not much better." Margaery visited Sansa every day. "She's still mourning."
Tyrion looked down. "I envy her sometimes. I didn't really have a father to mourn when he died."
"I think she would rather have her father alive than have the joy of mourning him," she retorted sharply.
"Sorry," he apologized.
"Cersei always changes her handmaidens, she is barely allowed out of her rooms one hour every day, and Joffrey has the kingsguards beating her continuously."
"Poor child." She knew that Tyrion meant what he said.
"We shouldn't let Joffrey do this. She's only a child, you said it. His behaviour with her is cruel and unacceptable."
"I know, but what do you want me to do? Shackle our king? It's one thing keeping him away from politics, but it's another to keep him away from the girl he's supposed to marry."
"Tyrion, I don't believe we should let Joffrey and Sansa get married. Anyway, the North is at war with us."
"No, this arrangement is no longer useful, unless we use it to make peace with Robb Stark."
"I don't think he will want it when he learns about the mistreatment his sister endured under Joffrey."
"It would be better then if he never learned about it." Margaery had to agree with her husband on that. Telling the truth would only enrage Robb Stark further. "Still, it might be better to keep the place next to Joffrey empty for some time. And Sansa wouldn't make the queen we need."
"What do you suggest?" she asked.
"For now, nothing. I'm still thinking about it. There are other options of marriage for Joffrey, and if he was to have no sons, then there's still Tommen left."
"I think Sansa would rather marry Tommen than Joffrey."
"Who could blame her?"
"What about Loras?"
"Your brother?"
"You know another Loras?" she asked, making him sound stupid, but he didn't care about it. "With the recent developments, marrying him to Sansa would be a good alternative to our nephew. And it would compensate the fact that Myrcella was taken away from him."
"We don't know yet if they will accept."
"If I didn't know you better, I would think that you're trying to stop my brother from ever marrying."
"I don't think he would need me for that. My brother-in-law doesn't seem eager to marry."
"No," she conceded, "but he will marry one day or another, and Sansa would make a good bride for him."
Tyrion pulled a face. "I suppose that a husband preferring the company to women is better than one who orders his men to beat you."
"You said it, Robb Stark will never let us marry Sansa to Joffrey. And I doubt he will want to marry her to anyone from House Lannister. My brother is probably our best hope if we want to bring back the Starks into the fold."
Her husband nodded after a moment. "I agree. To be honest, I thought of marrying her to Tommen instead, but the Starks will never want Sansa to marry someone they suspect of being born from incest. Your brother is probably our best option. And from what you told me, the girl always wanted to marry a knight in shining armor. Who better than the Knight of Flowers?"
Margaery smiled, though there was a certain bitterness to it. "I warned her about Joffrey at Winterfell, and she wouldn't listen."
"She is only a child."
Yes, she was. Sansa was only a child, but childhood was over for her. She would marry as soon as she bled, which could happen anytime. Margaery couldn't forget how shattered she was at her arrival in King's Landing. She would be happier with Loras, and as the future Lady of Highgarden. Sansa could find friends in Highgarden, and Margaery's mother could take care of her. Perhaps Margaery could even get the little sister she always wanted. However, she wouldn't let Loras make her suffer. Her brother was a good man, but he had a tendency to ignore whatever wasn't interesting to him, and the young maids who eyed him with envy at every tourney were part of it. She would also need to warn Sansa about Loras, eventually. She hoped that this time, the young girl would listen.
"Since we're talking about weddings, it may be too early for that, but who do you think Tommen should marry?"
"I don't know," Tyrion replied. "But the truth is, as long as Joffrey isn't married, we cannot arrange a marriage for Tommen. And if we are to set Sansa aside for your brother, I don't know who could marry Joffrey. Options are limited amongst the most highborn families. It would be better to remain open to ideas, but let's not make a hasty decision." Margaery nodded. "By the way, do you know if our friend at the Golden Tooth has any idea of marriage yet?"
"Not that I heard. It seems to me that Alysanne is like my brother. She's not very eager to marry."
"I wonder…"
Before he could say anything more, Tyrion was interrupted by Ty who opened the door. "My lord, the queen is summoning the small council."
"Really? At this hour?"
"My lord, she summoned the other members of the council, but not you, nor Lady Margaery."
They exchanged a surprised and worried look. "If Cersei is assembling the small council without us…" she began.
"… then nothing good can come out of it," Tyrion finished.
They didn't need a single more word. They stood and hurried to the small council chambers. On their way, Tyrion picked five red cloaks to escort them. When they arrived, the doors were closed and guarded by two kingsguards, Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount, probably the ones she despised the most. Sansa told her they hit her harder than the others.
"Sers, if you would allow us to enter," Tyrion told them.
"The queen said the council was not to be disturbed," Ser Meryn said.
"I do believe we have a right, as members of the small council, to take part in its reunions."
"The queen said the council was not to be disturbed," the knight repeated.
Margaery saw her husband smile with these eyes he had when it was time to use a secret weapon. "Tell me, Ser Meryn, did you stand guard for the Princess Myrcella lately?"
"Why would it interest you?"
"Because I'm concerned with having a man like you turning around her, especially since I heard about your activities at night in brothels, with other girls about the same age than the princess. I'd hate for my sister to hear about it. I wonder what she would do if she heard that you touched the princess while you were alone with her."
The knight looked with rage to her husband, and without warning, he drew his sword and held it right in front of Tyrion's face. Margaery's blood froze. Did Tyrion go too far? The other swords were unsheathed around her, but no one dared to move.
"Be careful, Imp," Ser Meryn warned.
"I would be careful if I were you, Ser Meryn. If Cersei hears about what you do in Littlefinger's brothels, and that someone suggests that you might do the same to her daughter, there isn't a man alive who could devise a more painful death for you and your cock."
Tyrion made a step forward, but Ser Meryn's sword didn't move. He made another step, and the sword didn't move either. Her husband stared at the knight, only a few centimeters between his nose and the sword. "Let us pass, Ser Meryn."
"You make another step, and your head goes through my sword, Imp."
Threats didn't work on this man. Margaery noticed how Tyrion's subtly looked around him. Two more red cloaks had joined them when they realized what was happening. They were seven against two.
"I suppose I can make a step backward," her husband said.
Tyrion shot her a quick glance, warning her of what might happen soon. She stepped back as well, until their guards stood between them and the two kingsguards. They all had their swords unsheathed.
Without warning, Tyrion yelled. "SER MERYN TRANT IS RAPING GIRLS OF TEN! HIS NEXT VICTIM IS PRINCESS MYRCELLA!"
Ser Meryn Trant launched an attack immediately, and as quickly as he moved, three swords were upon him. One stopped his attack that was meant to kill Tyrion, and the other two took life away from him. Ser Boros Blount tried to intervene, but ended with a sword in the leg and the arm. The one that hit his arm tore it off. Margaery stepped away to avoid the spray of blood that came out of it. Within a few seconds, a kingsguard was dead and the other one lost an arm, and although Margaery was not well versed in injuries, she didn't think he had much time to live.
The doors opened to let Cersei appear. Ser Barristan was next to her. The Lord Commander looked at his two sworn brothers in utter surprise and horror while Cersei looked as surprised as she was angry.
"What the hell happened here?" she asked.
"It appears Ser Meryn Trant doesn't appreciate that we reveal certain things about him," Tyrion answered.
"Grand Maester, we have an injured man!" Ser Barristan yelled. He took off his white cloak and wrapped it around Ser Boros's missing arm, but it did little to slow down the river of blood. The cloak was all red in an instant. Pycelle clumsily approached.
"Oh!" He stepped back in disgust.
"Pycelle, you have to help him. Stop the bleeding!" Ser Barristan shouted. He was the only one caring about what happened to the kingsguard.
"Bring Ser Boros to the Grand Maester's chambers. Pycelle, a kingsguard's life lies in your hands," Tyrion said. Just like Margaery thought, Ser Barristan Selmy was the only one to care about Ser Boros's fate.
The red cloaks took away the wailing knight and the body. They were followed by Pycelle who somehow managed to keep pace with them.
"What happened here?" Cersei asked again.
"I told you. I revealed something about Ser Meryn. He didn't appreciate it, so he decided to kill me. My men defended me, and Ser Boros decided to take his sworn brother's side. Here's the result." He indicated the large puddle of blood between them.
"You killed two of Joffrey's kingsguards!"
"Seeing how they fared against simple guards, I'd say it's not a great loss. You could replace them with men who actually can defend the king."
"Ser Meryn and Ser Boros attacked us," Margaery explained. "I can confirm it. Ask any of the men who were present. They will tell you the same. They tried to murder the Hand of the King and his uncle."
"You think I'll fall for that trap! You murdered them so Joffrey would be defenseless!" Cersei accused them.
Tyrion made a step forward. His foot was close to the puddle of blood. "You should actually thank me! Ser Meryn Trant is a child's beater! He goes to brothels on a regular basis to beat and rape little girls. How long would you think it would be before he did the same to your daughter?"
Immediately, the expression on her face changed. She was worried. She looked back at Ser Barristan. "Is that true?"
The knight seemed lost. "Your Grace, I have no idea what Lord Tyrion is talking about."
"It's normal. I only learned about it yesterday, after I questioned a few of my men who visited brothels and heard the little girls crying," Tyrion revealed.
"Yesterday? And you allowed that monster to walk around my daughter without doing anything?"
Tyrion made another step. A part of the blood was already dipped into the blood, but now both were in. He stared straight at his sister. "You really think I would allow him to hurt Myrcella? Perhaps you haven't realized it yet, Cersei, but I love your children, as much as Jaime do. I would never allow someone to arm them. As soon as I learned, I made sure there was a red cloak watching over Myrcella at any time. I was planning to talk about it with you today, but you decided to convoke a meeting of the small council without me and Margaery. That's a poor way to thank me for watching over your children. If it wasn't for me, this blood might have been your daughter's after Ser Meryn was done with her."
Cersei was speechless. Ser Barristan stepped back into the conversation. "Your Grace, my lord, I don't know what to say. I had no idea that Ser Meryn was… I'm truly sorry. I take the blame for everything that could have happened."
Cersei didn't listen. She stared at the puddle of blood. Tyrion was still standing at the center of it. Margaery noticed Varys and Littlefinger who stood in retreat behind the queen and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Varys had a sorry expression, even worried, but all that Baelish showed was interest, again.
"So, now that we're done with this domestic problem, perhaps you could tell what you were talking about before our interruption, and why you felt the need to exclude us from the discussion of the small council, big sister." Tyrion said, still angry.
"Your Grace," Ser Barristan said, "Lord Tyrion deserves to know what's going on, and Lady Lannister even more so."
Margaery could see that Cersei was irritated by the fact he called her Lady Lannister. Cersei didn't accept the fact that she was the Lady of Casterly Rock. Cersei cast one last glance at the blood on the floor. She threw her hands in the air. "Alright, get in." She walked back to the table. Varys and Littlefinger swiftly took their seat. Tyrion and Margaery joined them at their usual places. Tyrion's boots left traces of blood everywhere.
"We received a raven from Highgarden. Lord Tyrell replied to our dear Margaery's message," the Queen Regent spat.
"You read it?" Margaery asked.
"I did."
"This raven was destined to me," Margaery stated.
"The safety of the king and the interests of the Realm are more important than your privacy. This message tells us that Lord Tyrell won't send us a single man."
This shocked Margaery. "That's nonsense. My father would never do this."
"Your brother is a traitor," Cersei declared. "Renly proclaimed himself king at Storm's End, just like Stannis did. Guess who is among its staunchest supporters."
Her heart stopped to beat. No, that couldn't be. "Can I see the message?"
Cersei threw it at her. Margaery grabbed it and unrolled the raven's scroll.
My sweet little daughter,
I regret to tell you that I won't be able to help you. Lord Renly Baratheon made public his claim to the Iron Throne. Your brother Loras is at Storm's End and decided to acknowledge him as his king. Loras asked us for men to help Renly. I refused, but I cannot provide you any man. I cannot fight against you or against Loras. You are my children, and I cannot bring my arms against either of you.
I agree with your decision, and so does your mother and your grandmother. We must stand by the Lannisters and Joffrey, but as long as Loras supports Renly, there's nothing I can do for you on the military plan. Ask me anything else: crops, workers, money, but I can't fight Loras.
We will try to reason him. Be careful, my little daughter.
Your father.
Her heart sank as she read the message. This was her father's seal at the bottom of it. The scroll was authentic. She recognized Lomys's writing on the paper.
"That's impossible," she said aloud.
"Well, it seems House Tyrell is not as loyal as we thought," Cersei commented.
"Be careful, Cersei," Tyrion said menacingly. He had read the message from where he sat. "House Tyrell didn't turn on us. Lord Tyrell is still ready to provide everything we need for this war."
"Everything but soldiers."
"Ser Loras is his son. If Tommen was to take arms against Joffrey, which side would you choose?"
Cersei didn't answer. Margaery kept staring at the letter. How could Loras do this? How could he do this to her? She was his sister, and he decided to pledge fealty to another king, a king who would fight against Tyrion and against her. He decided to fight her. How could he do this?
"That doesn't make sense," she declared. "Loras would never do something like that."
"He did, my lady. It grieves me to say it, but I'm afraid your brother is indeed a traitor," Lord Varys said in a soft voice.
"The heir to Highgarden fighting against us. That's not good," Littlefinger commented.
"What do you have to say for your house, Margaery? What do you have to say to legitimate their betrayal?" Cersei asked.
"She has nothing to say, because the Tyrells didn't betray us," Tyrion clearly stated.
"Oh, come on, little brother. Even you cannot defend her. The Tyrells turned their back on us…"
"They did not. Loras Tyrell did. House Tyrell did not."
"I'm afraid that since Ser Loras is the heir to Highgarden, my lord, Lord Mace and the others are, against their wishes, at least indirectly in rebellion against the Crown," Varys said.
Tyrion shot a dark look at the Master of Whisperers after he spoke. He returned his attention to Cersei. "Let me be clear, Cersei. If you're accusing Margaery, then you're accusing me. And if you're accusing me, then you're accusing all House Lannister. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Do you consider yourself as the whole House Lannister?" she asked him in derision.
"Father did. You never complained about it," Tyrion shot back. "Loras Tyrell decided to support Renly Baratheon. Mace Tyrell, and Margaery Lannister did not. If you want to accuse someone, then accuse the right person, and not the members of his family. If we were held responsible for the crimes of our siblings, we would all hang."
"Loras must have lost his mind. There's no way he would do such a thing," Margaery said. She sighed. "I must talk to him."
"Talk to him, my lady?" Ser Barristan asked.
"Yes. Face to face. I need a good discussion with him." She looked back at the message. "I must go to Storm's End."
Silence fell around the table.
"Are you planning to turn on us as well?" Cersei asked.
"I'm the only one who can bring my brother back to our side. You want my father's troops? I'm your only hope to get them."
"I don't think you should go," Tyrion said. "The Stormlands rebelled against us. What if they capture you, or kill you?"
"Renly will not do this. I know him. That's not his style. If I come with a peace banner for negotiations, he will receive me with all the honors and let me go when I wish."
"My lady, we cannot know for sure. Laws are silent in times of war. You said your brother couldn't turn against Joffrey, and yet he did."
"I have no choice. This is a risk I must take. Without my father's support, we will be surrounded by three different armies on three sides. I must do it, or else Joffrey might not be sitting on the Iron Throne when the year is over."
No one said anything. She could feel her husband's disapproval. She wasn't used to have him oppose her in public. Normally, they would discuss something they didn't agree in private and present a united front before everyone, but she wouldn't back away. She looked at Cersei, waiting for opposition from her. It was something completely different that came out.
"Very well. We will eagerly await your return," she said. Margaery knew that something was amiss. "I'll have on of the kingsguards escorting you to Lord Renly, to show him who's the real king and which king you serve."
"Shouldn't the kingsguards remain here to protect the king, especially now that one is dead and another lost his arm?" Tyrion wondered.
"We must show Renly who we really are. Ser Mandon Moore will accompany her."
Ser Mandon Moore. Now she knew why Cersei agreed to her departure.
"Ser Mandon's presence would be more useful near the king. I'll have my own guards to escort me," Margaery said.
"I insist. The fear and respect Ser Mandon commands will give you more protection." Cersei didn't leave place to debate. Margaery had to accept the fact she would travel with a kingsguard all the way to Storm's End.
Some time later, she and Tyrion were together in their apartments. Her husband was clearly agitated and he paced the room like he never did before.
"You cannot go to Storm's End."
"Only I can reason my brother," she said.
"I don't want you to end up as Renly's prisoner, or worse. He proclaimed himself king. We are now at war with him."
"I know Renly, Tyrion. I know how he thinks. He sees himself as an honorable man, a gentleman, and he loves to see himself that way. He will never put irons on someone who comes for a parley. And he and Loras are very close. My brother would never tolerate it if he did anything to me. Only that is enough for me."
"Maybe, but his men might not be of the same mind. What if some them see the Lady of Casterly Rock, a member of Joffrey's small council, and think they can gain some gratitude from Renly by killing you? And parleys are not that safe. The first King Daeron was killed by Dornish during a parley."
"Renly is not Dornish, and he is a friend of my family. Look, Tyrion, we are at war. We all must take risks. Going to Storm's End is not much safer than staying here. We are about to be surrounded by Robb Stark, Stannis and Renly. I could have died in the riots only a few days ago. I must go to Storm's End, or else we will never win this war, unless you have some trick that you're hiding to me that could destroy Stannis's fleet and Robb Stark's army within ten seconds."
Her husband kept pacing. He was in interior debate with himself. Tyrion was clever enough to realize that what she said was true, but she also knew that he cared about her more than anyone else. "Just promise me to be careful. Especially with Ser Mandon Moore around you. Jaime told me that he was the most dangerous of the kingsguards. We can never know what he will do."
"Don't worry, I will be cautious." She knelt to plant a long kiss on his mouth. "Now, if you'll excuse, I have a journey to the Stormlands to prepare."
First, Margaery saw her handmaidens. She instructed them to prepare what she needed. She would only bring the strict minimum. It wasn't a pleasure journey. Speed and lightness were the keys to arrive as soon as possible to Storm's End. When she told them that only her guard would come with her, Sera begged to let one of them accompany her, and Mira emitted some reserves, but Margaery didn't flinch. She gave them the order to obey Tyrion in everything while she would be away.
She then gave the necessary orders to the men who would accompany her. Last, she went to see a person she absolutely needed to talk to before her departure. Ser Arys Oakheart stood guard before her door.
"I wish to speak with the Lady Sansa," Margaery said.
"I'll announce you." He opened the door and she heard him speak to the Stark girl. "Lady Sansa, Lady Lannister would like to speak with you." Sansa must have answered for the kingsguard turned back to Margaery after a moment. "You may go in, my lady."
"Thank you, Ser Arys."
The kingsguard smiled while he bowed to her as Margaery walked in. Sansa was waiting for her inside, standing tall. The girl was already fourteen and almost reached Margaery's height. Although only five years separated them, Margaery felt odd at the thought that the girl would be taller than her very soon. She bowed as soon as Margaery was inside.
"Lady Margaery."
Margaery sighed. "Old habits are hard to break. You don't need to call me that way here, Sansa. We're in private." She came to sit near Sansa and the girl did like her. Margaery took a look at her face. There were bruises, and new ones.
"Who did this?" she asked.
"Ser Boros. It's my fault. Joffrey was talking about Ser Janos, and I said that he got what he deserved by being exiled, for what he did to my father."
"I can hardly disagree with you." After all, it was her and Tyrion who sent Janos Slynt to the Wall. "Joffrey ordered him to do this?" Sansa nodded. "He shouldn't have. He's still refusing to let you see Pycelle?"
"He says it's helping me to remember, to behave like a lady."
"Well, Joffrey should learn to behave like a king. But I have some good news for you, Sansa. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn might no longer be able to hit you."
"Why? If Joffrey gives them an order, they must comply, and they are happy to comply."
"Even Joffrey cannot command to the dead." The young Sansa frowned. Margaery smiled as she explained. "Ser Meryn made an attempt of murder on my husband today, and he was helped by Ser Boros. Our men stopped them. Ser Meryn is dead, and Ser Boros lost an arm. He was alive the last time I saw him, but I doubt he has long to live. And even if he does, it will be without an arm."
"He will still have the other one."
Margaery pitied the girl. The Sansa who was excited to marry the future king had turned into a mournful lady who recited courtesies on a hollow tone whenever she was talked to. She opened to Margaery sometimes, but not much.
"Ser Arys is guarding you right now. Did he mistreat you?"
"No. He's always kind with me. When Joffrey tells him to beat me, he asks if it is necessary. And he tries to not hurt me too much. Would it be possible that Ser Barristan guards me? When Joffrey ordered him to strike me yesterday, he refused."
"I'm not choosing who guards you Sansa, you know it." It was Cersei who took these decisions. She made sure to replace Sansa's maids every week, so that they wouldn't form any friendship with her. Cersei controlled everything about Sansa's life in the Red Keep, and she and Joffrey chose themselves who watched her. Margaery wished they could do something for Sansa, but she and Tyrion had to move carefully, and Sansa wasn't deemed a higher priority than the City Watch or the small council. Once they had both in hand, they could probably do something for her. They couldn't stop Joffrey from seeing her. The only way to stop all this beating would be to have Joffrey stop visiting her. An idea came to her mind.
"Sansa, there might be a way to protect you from Joffrey." The blue eyes looked at her with hope. "There's one person that Joffrey fears, and it's Tyrion. If we moved you in the Tower of the Hand, he will hesitate to approach you."
"The Tower of the Hand?"
"You would still have a kingsguard Cersei or Joffrey chooses to watch you, but we have our own guards at the entrance of the Tower, and Tyrion is working there. Joffrey knows about this. The mere sight of Tyrion's men on the way to you would refrain him. He might even turn his attention to something else than beating you."
"Thank you, Margaery, but I am loyal to Joffrey. He is the king. If he decided that I must be punished, then it must be because I deserve this."
"You don't mean it." Sansa's eyes told her so. "You don't deserve what Joffrey does to you, Sansa. He only hurts you because he likes it."
"He is the king. He can do whatever he wants," Sansa almost whispered.
"It's true, Joffrey is the king, but even a king must face the consequences of his actions, sooner or later. Joffrey doesn't know it yet, but someday, someone will make him pay for what he did to you. In fact, he's already paying for what he did." Half of the Seven Kingdoms were in open rebellion against him.
Margaery leaned forward to speak more closely to Sansa. "You must remain strong, Sansa. Don't let Joffrey win. It won't last forever."
"I am to marry him."
"You're only betrothed." Margaery couldn't say more.
"Do you have news from my family?" Sansa asked. She always asked about them when Margaery visited her.
"Only that your brother Robb is marching against us. We're trying to figure out a peaceful solution, but I won't lie to you. There will be battles, most likely. I hope no one we care about will die."
"If Robb bent the knee, do you think Joffrey would send me back?"
"It depends. Maybe, but we cannot be sure of anything." Margaery wished she could talk to Sansa about her project to marry her to Loras, but she couldn't reveal it to her yet. She couldn't reveal it to anybody. "Sansa, you know that I'm not your enemy, don't you?"
"You warned me about Joffrey. I should have listened."
"Joffrey is my nephew. I have no choice but to defend him, but that doesn't mean I approve his decisions or his actions. And I'm really trying to find a way to end this war without one of our families being destroyed. You have my word. I'll have no rest until the situation is solved."
"Thank you."
"It's the last time you'll see me for a while."
Sansa looked both surprise and alarmed. "Why?"
"I must leave King's Landing. An important matter that must be solved. I won't be here for some time, probably weeks."
"What matter?"
"I must see my brother, Loras. You must have met him before. I know he came your father's tourney."
"Yes. He gave me a rose."
Margaery smiled. To the opposite of Sansa, whose cheeks were colored pink, she knew very well why her brother gave a rose to a lady before each tilt in a tourney. "I'll tell him that you remember the rose he gave you." Sansa was happy of that. "You're sure you don't want to move to the Tower of the Hand? You would be safer there."
"No, thank you." Margaery regretted that decision.
"Why?"
Sansa hesitated before she spoke. "This is… this is where I lived when… When my father was alive, he lived there. And this is where his men were slain."
Margaery nodded. "I understand. Be careful, Sansa."
She left Sansa after saying that they would see each other again. The rest of the day was spent in verifying the preparations for tomorrow's departure and attending minor political matters. Margaery sent other ravens in the Reach, telling her father she would arrange things with Loras, but also asking for more crops. She made sure her handmaidens would maintain the charity works and keep visiting orphanages, septs and poorhouses for her. Then she dined with Tyrion. He didn't go back to work after eating, and instead they spent the whole night together.
She rested her head on his chest while his hand caressed her back. She would miss it, and it was one more reason to deal with Loras and Renly swiftly. She wished she could keep her thoughts about her brother away for the night, but it kept coming back to her no matter how hard she tried to not dwell on it. Unable to keep them for herself, she voiced them.
"I don't understand why Loras did this." Tyrion said nothing, but he kept caressing her arm reassuringly. "Loras is not the brightest man in Westeros, but even he knows that by declaring for Renly, he's going into war against me. That doesn't make sense."
Tyrion's hand stopped to move. "Perhaps he had to choose between you and Renly."
"No, that doesn't sound like Loras. He would never join Renly in a war when I'm in the way."
"I don't know, but we all know what are your brother's feelings for Renly Baratheon."
"Yes, but still. The Loras I know would never do such a thing." The last time they met though, there was something Loras told her. You have changed, sister. He told her right after she said that she loved Tyrion. And then Loras had gone riding to the tourney. It was true, Margaery had changed, but Loras couldn't have changed that much. They were brother and sister, and they loved each other as brother and sister. They were no Tyrion and Cersei. Loras would never do anything against her.
"I don't know Loras very well, and I don't pretend to love him, but… if I had to choose between the woman I love and my family…"
"Yes?" she asked, seeing he didn't finish his sentence.
He sighed. "If it came to that, I don't think I could choose House Lannister over you. Your brother and I may be more alike than we thought."
So, as you can see, things are not going so well for the Lannisters, and they're not the only family in Westeros with family problems.
Please review
Next chapter : Catelyn
