A Son of Ice and Fire
A/N: I really have no excuse for leaving it this long, it's just I know the mammoth task I have ahead of me and I've been putting it off. The responses to the 1st/3rd person discussion were almost 50/50 so I'm pretty sure I'm going to go ahead with the (sort of) rewrite for the story. This chapter was going to be the first time I did a first person for a GOT character, but it'll still work in this format. This is a tester more than anything, but I can tell already that I'll enjoy writing in this style far more than before.
To clarify, anything in italics is the thoughts of a character, so this way I can still include a lot of first person aspects. I will try to post one new chapter at least once every 1/2 weeks while I'm going through and changing the previous 61, so I hope you stick with it while I get it all converted.
Chapter 62: Bits and pieces
Margaery
"And you heard him say that?" Margaery asked cautiously, as they continued to stroll through the expansive gardens of the Red Keep. Astrid nodded glumly, without even making a sound. "Are you sure?" Margaery followed up softly. Astrid nodded again, trying her best to maintain a straight face, but the cracks were beginning to show. "And that was the last time you saw him?" For a third time, Astrid's only response was a single movement of the head down and then back up. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say." What can I say? Margaery asked herself, the last person I ever thought I'd be having a conversation like this with is Astrid.
"There's nothing to say," Astrid sighed.
"Did you tell him?" Margaery asked, and just by Astrid's reaction she regretted it almost instantly. Astrid's eyebrows narrowed sharply and her eyes were dull and sharp, without even the slightest sparkle.
"No," she responded bluntly. "When he said he loved me, I just stood there frozen. I didn't believe it. I mean, who could possibly love me? I'm impulsive, hot-headed, violent…"
"…Beautiful, intelligent, talented, confident. Must I go on?" Margaery smirked.
Astrid shrugged off the comments and just continued, "I didn't know for sure how I felt before, but when he said it, everything just clicked into place. I tried to turn back to him. I did. But the fucking stupid bell was ringing and I… I tried, but it was too late," she stuttered. "By the time it had finished, he was gone."
"And then?" Margaery enquired.
"Then we left… and he didn't. That's all I know," Astrid blurted out defensively. The two walked in silence for a few minutes, and Margaery stole a few glances across, still struggling to get her head around it all. Astrid was dragging her feet, and Margaery couldn't look at her for long before the feelings of guilt were too strong. I'm sorry Astrid, I never meant to hurt you like this, Margaery thought sadly, mulling over how her own actions had only made her friend's situation so much worse.
They continued to advance through until they were at the small pavilion in the heart of the gardens. It was a finely decorated open building, with a few chairs and tables inside to sit and admire the scenery. The roof was a welcome break from the constant sun, and Margaery could clearly see the layers Astrid were wearing were taking a toll. Margaery slowly led her towards it, and quickly noticed that the dozen or so seats were all vacant, except for one. As they began to approach, all either could see was a young lady staring out to sea, her long red hair flowing over her shoulders and down her back.
Upon hearing us come closer, the girl quickly swivelled on the chair, and her face lit up. "Lady Margaery," she said with a beaming smile, as she offered an elegant curtsey.
"Sansa!" Margaery replied cheerfully, with a smile to match. "I knew you'd be out here on a day as beautiful as this." Sansa nodded happily, and then her eyes turned towards the blonde stranger. Margaery pulled Astrid closer, and then turned back to the northern Lady, "Sansa Stark, meet Astrid Hofferson."
Sansa took a step forward and greeted Astrid welcomingly, and the latter went to the effort of returning the gesture, despite all the things she was fighting with. After a few pleasantries, the three of them took their seats and just began to talk. Idle chit-chat more than anything, but thoughtless conversation was probably what Astrid needed more than anything. But as time ticked by, it still did little to make her feel better. Even under the shelter, the heat was sweltering and in more ways than one, Astrid couldn't wait for the winter to come.
They simply sat there for hours, speaking freely and somewhat enjoying each other's company. A few touchy subjects were brought up, but they were quickly swept under the rug to keep the atmosphere innocent. Astrid and Sansa seemed to be getting on well, but Margaery could tell by the one word responses and lack of her unmissable biting tongue that her best friend wasn't fully here. Not in mind anyway.
"So, are you going to be staying in the capital?" Sansa asked Astrid.
"Huh?" She responded. "Oh, yeah, I suppose. It's not like there's anywhere else I can go."
"You don't sound happy?" Sansa pressed her, "I couldn't wait to leave home for the capital."
"I was once like that, but too much has happened. Not everyone wants to give up all they love to marry some stupid Prince," Astrid scowled, and I could see her anger levels rising. Sansa please stop. You don't want to set her off, Margaery pleaded internally.
"But you'll be a Princess," Sansa continued, "doesn't that excite you?"
"No," was the blunt response. Please stop, Sansa.
"Really?" Sansa asked in surprise.
"Really," Astrid responded with an edge so sharp it could slice through valerian steel. Thankfully the younger Lady picked up on it that time, and left it alone. Today would not be a good day to get on Astrid's wrong side.
"So," Margaery started, trying to ease the tension, "new axe?" Astrid looked over and the faintest smile ghosted over her lips. She reached one hand behind her back and then whipped the blade over her shoulder, laying it carefully on the table in the middle of them. "May I?" Margaery asked her, and Astrid responded with a somewhat nervous nod. Slowly lifting it from the table, Margaery was captivated by it.
Margaery scanned meticulously over the weapon, and she squinted to read the engraving across each blade. She had to admit that there was a definite beauty about the way the metal curved just in the right place, and there was a clear effort put into all the finer details. Astrid's eyes followed it's every movement, as if it was her baby in Margaery's arms, and when it did eventually get returned back to its owner, a wave a relief crashed over her. "When did you get it?" Margaery asked, looking across to Astrid.
"It was a gift… from someone very special," she answered hesitantly. A slight flicker could be seen in her eyes, and Margaery knew she didn't even have to ask. Sansa, on the other hand, was clearly oblivious.
"From who?" She asked innocently.
"Someone no longer with us," was the cold response, leaving Sansa open-mouthed and looking down at the floor awkwardly.
"I'm sorry," Sansa apologised quickly, and all Astrid did was look up at her and nod once. A cold silence followed and it was Margaery who first attempted to break the icy tension and lighten the mood.
"So, Astrid, have you got any funny stories to tell us about your travels?" She asked graciously. "I'm sure Sansa would love to hear about your travels up to the north."
Sansa eagerly leaned forward, "you went to the north?" She asked excitedly, and Astrid's lips twisted into a thin smile.
"Yeah, I love it there," Astrid admitted, her grin growing wider. "The weather, the culture, the people. I didn't want to leave."
"Did you go to Winterfell? Did you see my brothers or my mother? My sister maybe? Are they okay?" Sansa interrogated, inching closer and closer towards the edge of her seat.
Astrid sighed and shook her head. "I didn't I'm afraid, but I was close, and I do know that your brother had been doing well. Either way, I just hope this war ends soon."
"Don't we all," Margaery exclaimed, but it didn't stop Sansa's bubbling desire for answers.
"Close? What do you mean close?" She asked, eyes fixed on Astrid.
Astrid looked across to Margaery, unsure of how much to divulge, but the Queen-to-be's smile was enough for Astrid to be confident enough to continue. "I was at Dragon's edge for a good few months," Astrid told her, catching Sansa by surprise.
"Dragon's edge? Why were you there?" Sansa questioned Astrid.
"Same as you," Margaery answered her instead, "Sansa, you went South to forge a union, Astrid went North."
"Union? As in marriage? To who, Lord Stoick?" Sansa pressed on, making Astrid scrunch her nose up in disgust.
"Not Stoick, it was Hiccup," Astrid sighed.
"Oh Gods," Sansa mumbled, "Guess we both had a lucky escape."
"Lucky escape?" Astrid snapped, her upper lip curling as she glared coldly at the other lady. "Why the hell would you say that?"
Sansa couldn't meet Astrid's eyes, and she shifted nervously in her seat. She was doing everything to avoid answering the question, but Astrid's glare was unceasing. "Well, umm, my mother always told me that he was of bad blood," was the eventual weak response.
"BAD BLOOD? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?" Astrid growled, almost knocking her chair backwards as she jumped to her feet. She curled her fist and stood menacingly over Sansa, making it impossible for the redhead to look elsewhere.
"Well, do you know who his mother is?" Sansa squeaked out, her eyes showing pure terror. Margaery attempted to get in the way, but Astrid's almost murderous glower kept her seated.
"Yes, I know full well who his mother is," Astrid stated firmly. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"'A Targaryen can never be trusted,' is what my mother taught me." Sansa replied unflinchingly, to the evident contempt of the blonde stood over her.
"Your mother clearly didn't teach to learn when to shut that mouth of yours," Astrid spat bitterly through grated teeth, as she cracked her knuckles. "One more word and I'll shut it for you. Permanently."
"Ladies, calm down." Margaery cut in again. She tried to break Astrid's hardened expression with a warm smile, but it was of no use. In the end, she reverted to simply putting herself between to the two butting women, but she knew she couldn't stop Astrid if Sansa continued to push her.
"No, I will not calm down," Astrid replied sharply, looking disgustedly down at the arm Margaery was using to keep her back. "If this bitch thinks she can insult him after everything he's done, then she's very much mistaken."
"Astrid, enough!" Margaery demanded, and her edged tone did temporarily get the message across. Astrid had rarely heard her raise her voice before, and she had never been spoken to like that, but the respite for Sansa was only momentary.
"No, come on, Lady Sansa, let's hear more," Astrid encouraged her. "Anything else you want to get off your chest." All Sansa could do was look pleadingly towards Margaery, but nothing she could say could possibly break the tension that hung in the air. Sansa stared up at the scowl addressed directly to her and she pressed herself as far back into her chair as she could. A quick shake of the head was all the petrified girl could produce, but that could do little to quell the anger that had been aroused inside Astrid.
Astrid almost barged past both of them as she attempted to get as far away as possible, but Margaery caught her arm after a few long paces. "Will you be alright?" Margaery asked cautiously, keeping her voice quiet enough only Astrid could hear.
"I'm fine," Astrid huffed, "Honestly, I'm okay." But by her voice, Margaery knew there wasn't anything to suggest Astrid was either 'fine' or 'okay'. "I just need to go for a walk," Astrid declared shakenly, heading off immediately, and it took everything Margaery had to resist the urge to follow her.
Once she was out of sight, Margaery sighed heavily and turned back to walk towards Sansa. "Why did you do that? Why did you provoke her?" Margaery grilled her, just when Sansa thought she was out of the woods.
"I... I… I didn't know. I… I'm sorry," Sansa quivered. "Is… is that n… normal for her?"
"No," Margaery sighed again, as she took Sansa's hand in an attempt to calm her down. Poor, sweet child, only a fool would make an enemy of Astrid, Margaery thought sadly. "She's had a tough few months. Please, whatever you do, don't upset her anymore. She'll hate me for telling you this, but I have never seen her this… fragile, before. I've known her almost all of my life, but this is new for me. An Astrid that wears her heart on her sleeve is far more dangerous than you could know."
Nearly an hour later, Astrid still hadn't returned and Margaery felt it to be her responsibility to be the one to go after her. She had gone to Astrid's father suggesting the betrothal to the Prince, and now the weight of that choice was burning a hole inside of her. She knew Astrid would hate it, she knew it wasn't what Astrid wanted, and yet Margaery had only done it to keep her friend at her side. They would then be that close they would almost be sisters, with no more having to wait months between visits. Even with the wedding and all that involved, Margaery thought that if Astrid had her there, they could get through it all together. Now she really didn't know if that would be enough. She couldn't help thinking that if Astrid found out, she would be hated by her for the rest of her days.
Although Margaery thought it best to go after Astrid alone, Sansa almost begged to join her. The girl had practically been alone since her father's death and Margaery had quickly become the closest thing to a friend she had. It was obvious how immature and naïve the young Stark still was, and although she let Sansa tag along, Margaery really didn't know if it was a good idea to put the two of them together again. Sansa had grown up believing in fairy-tales, fair maidens and handsome princes coming to whisk you away, but Astrid had never once bought into such shallow concepts. Margaery just prayed silently that somehow they could work it out, because Astrid needed friendly faces now more than ever.
Astrid hadn't gone far, and all she wanted was to be alone. Sitting on the wall, she swung her legs freely, as if the immense drop infront of her wasn't even there. One slip or stray gust of wind and she would meet the jagged rocks below, but it was only the refreshing breeze that was able keeping her sane. She just hoped she would be in her right mind long enough to keep up this façade. She wanted to be a soldier, a warrior that would run head first into battle like her brother, but this world had all but beaten those desires down. For all she had done to make herself otherwise, she was now what she hated most - a princess in a high tower whose only job is to look pretty and bear children for her powerful husband.
It took a few minutes for Margaery to find her, but when she did, she found Astrid clutching something in her palm. With a raised hand to stop Sansa following, she tentatively tiptoed towards the girl on the ledge. "Astrid," she called out softy. Even like this, Margaery didn't doubt Astrid's instincts, and the last thing she wanted was for her friend to see her as a threat. But Astrid's failure to respond only made Margaery feel worse. With all her heart she hoped there was still had some fight left in her, but deep down, the feeling she had broken Astrid's spirit beyond repair was only growing stronger.
All the way until she was mere feet away, Margaery called out to her, but it was as if Astrid didn't even hear. Even as her shoulder was touched, there was no reaction other than a quick closing of one hand over the other. Astrid's tendency to seek out danger had always been fascinating to Margaery, but sitting here like this is nothing but reckless. If someone meaning to do her harm had found Astrid here first, it could have been so easy to make her disappear. Yet her only instinct had only been to protect the thing in her hands and not her own life. Seeing that only confirmed Margaery's suspicions. That even though Astrid's body was still firmly planted on the wall, her mind had already jumped.
All the lessons, all the advice, all the experience Margaery had, and now it seemed to all be for nought. She'd been taught to read people, to know what they think and feel, and how to act upon it, but now she was going to have to learn all over again. One Astrid Hofferson had gone north and another one had come back in her place. Now Margaery would have find out how to get through to her, and find out quick. She knew King's Landing would tear Astrid apart if she wasn't there to help her through it, and she pledged to herself that, whatever happens, they would get through it together.
When Margaery placed her hand on top of Astrid's, the blonde immediately tried to rip hers away. "Astrid, please," Margaery pleaded. "I can't help you if you don't show me."
"You can't help me, though, can you?" Astrid remarked bitterly, turning to face her. She saw Sansa peering on from a distance and shook her head before she looked back to Margaery "Please just leave me alone. Go and have fun with your little puppet over there."
"Come on, there's no need for that," Margaery said gravely. "She's suffered almost as much, if not more, than you have. Don't blame her just because you're hurting. She's been ripped away from her home as well."
"No she hasn't. She chose to leave her family behind to become a Queen, just like you" Astrid growled, before she swung her legs around and stood up to meet Margaery face to face. "You see, that's the difference between us. You couldn't wait to call this place home, but I'd rather die than stay here!"
"Don't say that," Margaery replied timidly, backing away a step.
"Why? Why shouldn't I say that?" Astrid asked, glaring directly at Margaery while closing the distance. "Are you afraid someone will hear, a little spy that will go spilling all our secrets back to its master. Or just because it's the truth, if that concept even exists in the capital. Either way, I don't care. They'll have to physically drag me to the sept to ever get me married in this vile city, and even then I'll be kicking and screaming the whole way."
"Astrid, you know-"
"-All I know is my life has been turned upside down," Astrid cut her off. "I don't need you or that naïve little girl telling me what a great opportunity I have and that I should be honoured to marry the King's brother. It's not an honour, it's a prison."
"Then it looks like we're cellmates," Margaery said softly, and Astrid, even as tense as she was, couldn't stop the cheerless laugh that barely escaped her lips. "Please, we're in this together. Let me help." Margaery took a step forward, taking Astrid's hand again. This time the resistance was lessened, only slightly, but it was still an improvement, and Margaery used this to move closer still. "May I?" She asked nervously, as her fingers began to unwind Astrid's closed fist.
Regretting it as soon as she allowed it to happen, Astrid watched as Margaery slowly peeled her fingers away to reveal that familiar folded sheet of paper in her palm. Now with severe signs of wear and tear, the tattered drawing looked far from pristine, but Astrid still treasured it as she did the day she found it on that pillow all that time ago. Even though she knew it was safe in Margaery's hands, it still felt distinctly wrong to let go of it after keeping it close for so long. It made her feel even more open, more vulnerable, and she could do nothing to close herself back up.
With as much care as she could, Margaery tenderly unravelled it, fearing that the slightest pull in the wrong place would make the fine paper crumble in her hands. Beneath the creases and the crinkles on the surface was a sketch that Margaery found difficult to find a single imperfection. There was no attempt to draw Astrid as something she's not, it just perfectly showed the young woman she had prided herself on being. It was the Astrid that Margaery had grown up with, not the shadow stood before her right now.
Astrid noticed the shy figure slowly inching closer and made sure to keep prodding Sansa with piercing glares every time she could afford to take her eyes away from the drawing. Sansa, meanwhile, was a complete loss on what to do, but she knew she needed to do something quick to remain in Margaery's good books. Her possible marriage to Loras was entirely dependent on Margaery, and she had to make amends to make sure that went ahead. Her life had been a complete cycle of turmoil and pain since Joffrey took the throne, she needed this escape more than anyone. She needed this escape to Highgarden, and having Astrid at odds with her would be impede proceedings.
So Sansa continued to approach, trying to ease the icy Hofferson stare with gentle smiles but to no avail. Even when the blonde's eyes were elsewhere, Sansa felt like she was always in the crosshairs. "Lady Astrid," she started out, her voice barely a whisper. "I just want to apologise. I was being stupid and selfish and rude and I'm so sorry if I said something out of place. I didn't mean to offend you in anyway."
Astrid eyed Sansa suspiciously, but she let her shoulders drop as she nodded once in acceptance, even though the Stark girl was far from forgiven. The scornful words about Hiccup and Valka had really stuck with Astrid, and there was no way she would trust the girl with anything, especially Hiccup's drawing. She immediately went to take it back, but her lunge made Margaery jump backwards and the paper slipped its way through both of their fingers.
Astrid immediately dove after it, as the sheet wafted away from her, but the wind made it practically impossible to catch in mid-air. Her eyes followed it to the ground, where she could see the other lady heading straight for it. No. No. No. Astrid panicked, fearing she was too late, as she dropped to her knees and stretched out towards it. But as the drawing landed face down, she felt the edge within her fingertips and it filled her with instant relief. She closed her eyes and went to bring it to her chest, only to feel a slight pull on the other end and then the unforgettable sound of the tearing.
Astrid opened her eyes to see Sansa clutching at the other part of her drawing and she let out a loud gasping breath. She looked at the other girl in horror, and then back down to the sketch that now had half of her own face missing. The damage wasn't a small tear that could be glossed over, the sheet was in two clear separate pieces and Astrid's hand began to shake, first in shock, and then in anger. Margaery just stood there motionless, and knowing Astrid, she really began to fear for Sansa's safety.
"Sansa, go now!" Margaery ordered her, but Sansa didn't have time to react before Astrid leapt to her feet and snatched the half she was holding out of her hand.
Astrid's eyes were almost glassy as she shakenly tried to put the pieces back together, but it had been tainted beyond repair. With her hand rocking, she tried to fold it the best she could, and then she tucked it away into the pouch on her waist. She knew Sansa had no idea of its importance, or its true value to her. She knew what had happened was just an unfortunate accident. She even knew that acting on it wouldn't make her feel better in the slightest. But none of that mattered as she raised her hand and struck out. In one swift swipe, her palm collided with the girl's cheek with enough force to knock Sansa to the ground.
And without even a second look at the cowering figure, Astrid stormed past her and sprinted away as fast as she could. And as she ran, all she could think was if she should keep running. If she should run and run until she was far enough away that no-one knew her name. Then she would have no duties, no responsibilities, no restraints. She could be free. Margaery watched her go, at a complete loss for words, before she headed over to pick up the trembling Sansa. She tried to comfort the girl again, but right now she was far more concerned for Sansa's attacker. She knew for sure that if it kept up like this, Astrid wouldn't survive a week in the capital.