The Marriage of Margaery Tyrell and Tyrion Lannister. The Rose and the Lion.
The longest chapter so far in this story, and the second longest I have ever written up to now, the longest being Sansa's name day in "A Shadow and a Wolf". A lot of work was put in that one, so please review to tell me how you find it, whether you like it or not. Stories are written to be read, enjoyed, criticized and hated.
TYRION III
"Could you help me to adjust that sleeve, Ty. I'm afraid it's too tight."
"Yes, my lord."
Tyrion's squire came to help him to loosen his right sleeve. Tyrion would rather not be uncomfortable in his clothing the day of his wedding. He wore a red doublet with golden pins in the shape of lions. His breeches were black, but with his short legs people would barely be able to see them under the doublet. The collar was circled with gold. His personal dressmaker had done a good job. The clothing for the wedding was very handsome. Too bad he wasn't handsome as well to fit in it.
"It seems sad that a young woman, and a beautiful one above all, has to marry me Ty, wouldn't you agree?"
"Lady Margaery doesn't seem to dislike the prospect, my lord. In fact, I would say she is eager to marry you," answered Ty.
"Maybe. She is certainly eager to be Lady of Casterly Rock, but I doubt she is eager to be the Imp's wife."
"She doesn't seem reluctant, my lord."
"No, she doesn't, you're right on this."
Tyrion had spent some time with Lady Margaery each day since she arrived last week. Being honest, he had been smitten when he had seen her the first time. She deserved her nickname. A round and lovely face, high cheekbones, green eyes, a bright smile she loved to display, a slender shape that allowed place to forms, brown hair falling with curls behind her neck, gracious arms and hands soft at the touch. Tyrion couldn't deny it. The Rose of Highgarden was beautiful. Her gowns and dresses outlined her beauty at the perfection, and even enhanced it. Even more striking was her mind. She had spirit, and a lot of it. Tyrion was able to laugh and joke with her, as well as discuss serious matters. She had a keen mind, understood quickly where he was going when they talked and was quite wise. She even managed to make him feel better than he was. He could still remember what she told him while they walked on the Lion's Bridge the first day. You underestimate yourself, my lord. You are a much better man than you believe.
Tyrion could still remember the look in her eyes when she said it. She had looked directly at him, as if she wanted him to know that this time, she really meant what she said, but then her sweet smile had returned to her face and her shining eyes had come back. For a moment, Tyrion had had the impression he had seen Margaery Tyrell really caring for him. He didn't think he had seen it again afterwards. He had liked to spend time with her. She was seducing him, not only with her body but also with her mind. Only, it was what Tyrion wasn't comfortable with. She was seducing him. Maybe he should have liked that. There had never been a woman who made advances on him. Jaime always had all of them. Even Tysha never made advances on him, nor Alla. He didn't really know how to take it. Lady Margaery couldn't be in love with him, the Imp. That would be my pleasure to become your wife and to spend my life by your side. Her behaviour unsettled him. There was something he didn't like, something odd with her. He didn't have the impression she was false to him, but she wasn't true either. Tyrion spent so much time with whores that he could see through acts and lies very quickly. He could read people very easily. Lady Margaery wasn't acting with him like a whore, far from that, but there was something with her not entirely unlike the way whores acted to make the men believe they loved them.
Tyrion thought of Alla, of her red locks he used to pass his hands through, her generous breasts, and… How marvelous and delicate she had been. He would never see her again. When the answer from the Tyrells to Kevan's proposal had arrived a few months ago and that his betrothal with Lady Margaery had become official, Tyrion had had no choice. He had to send her away. He couldn't have kept her at Casterly Rock for when he would be married. It wouldn't do to have a mistress among the servants while he was married, or to have a mistress at all. Tyrion knew he couldn't take the risk to infuriate the Tyrells or his future wife by taking a scullion to his bed before or after the wedding. He had to be faithful to his wife, and he wanted to be faithful. A young girl had to marry him, and he didn't want to shame her. So he had done the only right thing for everyone.
He had Alla brought to him a few days after the betrothal was decided. He had explained to her the situation, that he was to marry soon and that they couldn't keep seeing each other.
"I cannot keep you at Casterly Rock either," Tyrion had told her. "Rumors are already circulating, and they would continue if you were to stay here after the wedding. I don't know what Margaery Tyrell or her family would do if they were to discover your presence. You could be in danger."
"I understand, my lord," she had said her eyes cast down.
"You don't have to worry. I won't leave you on your own. I have already arranged everything. You'll be sent to Kayce. It's a market town in the near peninsula, west of the Rock. You'll have your own guards, fine clothes, even a few servants. You won't have to scrub floors anymore. I'll make sure you never lack anything. You'll have a good life."
"I would have a good life here too," she had said.
Tyrion had approached her and taken her hand reddened by the scrubbing in his own. "I am a Lannister, and the Lord of the Westerlands. I have duties, and my duties don't allow me to keep you close to me. I wish I could, but I can't." She had looked very sad. "I will be married very soon. Find yourself a husband. A good husband. Someone who will take care of you and who will love you."
"Don't you?"
"What?"
"Don't you love me?"
That wasn't a question Tyrion had been prepared to. He had never thought about it. Did he love Alla? He had no idea. "I would keep you here if I could, but I can't."
She had looked sadder than ever. It broke Tyrion's heart to see her that way. Tears had begun to run on her cheeks. She was sitting, so he had been able to take her face between his hands. "You are a beautiful, lovely, sweet and kind girl, Alla," he had told her. "You deserve a better life than the one you had up to now. I loved to meet you, and I'll never forget you."
She had looked back at him, tears still clear in her blue eyes. "Do you want me for one last night?" she had asked.
Of course Tyrion wanted her. And so they spent their last night together. Tyrion tried to get the best out of it, and Alla didn't seem reluctant about that. She even initiated things a few times. Tyrion tried to remember her the best he could. On the morning however, the time had come for her to leave. Tyrion had four of his men escort her to her new house in Kayce, and gave her a first pouch of silver. Others would follow regularly so she could have everything she wanted and needed.
Just as she left, Tyrion had told her something he hadn't planned to tell initially. "I will visit you from time to time, when I can. Just to see everything is alright. I promise."
She had hugged him tightly, tears of joy streaming on her cheeks. He would see her again. She left more joyful than he had believed she would. What a fool he had been. A few days later, he had a discussion with his uncle who told him he could never see Alla again. He couldn't allow any doubt of his fidelity to his wife, or else it could endanger the alliance between House Lannister and House Tyrell. Tyrion had argued, but in the end he was forced to admit Kevan was right. He knew what would happen if he saw Alla again. He wouldn't be able to remain faithful to his wife if he saw her again. Tyrion had to decide he wouldn't hold the last promise he made to the girl who shared his bed.
"My lord, are you alright?" Ty's voice brought him back to the present. Surely his expression betrayed the gloomy thoughts he had.
"Yes, Ty. Is the sleeve well adjusted?"
"I believe it is, my lord."
Tyrion moved his right arm and hand. Everything was alright. "It is." Then Ty helped him remove his wedding clothes for the casual ones. Before the wedding was to take place, there would be the breakfast where daily clothing was expected. Tyrion had only wanted to make sure his wedding clothes would be well adjusted for after. "Leave me now, Ty. We still have some time before I go to the wedding, and I would like to be alone."
"Yes, my lord."
Ty Frey left Tyrion's apartments on this. Soon, he would have to share them with a young woman. Strangely, Tyrion didn't find much solace in that. His thoughts returned to Alla. He remembered again their last night together. Then he thought about Tysha, and his mood turned even sourer.
Tyrion shook his head, trying to chase these two women from his mind. He went to the table, seized the decanter and filled a full cup of wine for himself. He took a huge swallow. Why was he thinking about a whore and a kitchen wench the day of his wedding? Why was he sad when he was about to marry one of the most beautiful women, if not the most beautiful woman, in the Seven Kingdoms? Not only did he marry a highborn lady who brought an alliance that would make the Lannisters more powerful than ever, but she was gorgeous like very few women were.
Tyrion knew why he wasn't satisfied by his wedding. He wanted a wife that would love him, and he knew that Lady Margaery Tyrell didn't love him. Sure, she didn't seem to hate him, and probably she didn't, but he knew she wasn't in love with him and would probably never be. After the wedding, Tyrion would never have a chance for love, and he cursed the gods to force him to marry a woman who would never love him.
Tyrion emptied his cup and left his rooms, walking to the Great Hall where breakfast was to take place. That is, where his breakfast would take place. In the tradition of the Reach, there were two separate breakfasts on the wedding day. The first one, the biggest, was held in the Great Hall and was attended by the groom and his family, and by all the male members of the bride's family. This meant Tyrion was stuck with the Fat Flower and the Knight of Flowers. By luck, the way Genna had arranged seats, Tyrion was at the center of the dais with Kevan on his right and Genna on his left. Still, he was forced to share the high table with the Oaf of Highgarden, like Olenna Tyrell called her son, and his future brother-in-law who seemed more eager to remove his head than to see Tyrion married to his sister. He wished they had brought Willas Tyrell and Ser Garlan, Lady Margaery's cousins, to sit with him instead, but as cousins they had to sit among the other tables.
Tyrion knew that somewhere else, in the gardens of the Rock, his betrothed was breaking her own fast with the ladies of her house. At least, that meant Tyrion didn't have to suffer the angry glares of his future mother-in-law or the insufferable sharp comments and complaints of the Queen of Thorns. He saw some of her grandmother in his soon-to-be wife, but to be honest he liked it in Margaery when he couldn't endure it with the Lady Olenna. The old woman's demands, if all met, would have doubled the cost of the wedding.
Tyrion broke his fast on pork sausages, bacon, pears, summer peaches, gammon steaks, nuts, honeycakes and fish from both the Honeywine and the Sunset Sea. He didn't eat much. He didn't have quite an appetite, but he drank a lot. He knew Genna and Kevan disapproved, but he didn't care. Wasn't it an man's duty to get drunk at his own wedding? Anyway, he wouldn't be drunk even with the quantity he would drink from breakfast. The time to get really drunk would be during the wedding feast.
Once they were done with the breakfast, the food was cleared and Tyrion began to receive presents by the hundreds. Well, no. He would have gifts by the hundreds tomorrow. He and Lady Margaery were to receive presents separately on their breakfasts, but they would receive more tomorrow morning, this time together.
First however, Genna presented the wife's cloak that would be draped over Margaery's shoulders. Apparently, that was the cloak Tyrion's father had put on his mother's shoulders when they married, and later Cersei had it too when she married Robert. Tyrion hadn't been there when his mother and father were wed of course, and while he had been present to Cersei's wedding, he didn't remember much of it. He had been drunk during most of the celebrations and hadn't really paid attention. The thing he remembered the most from his sister's wedding were the dragon skulls in the dungeons of the Red Keep that he visited at the time.
He looked at the red cloak trimmed with gold, noticing it if not seeing it for the first time. So that was the cloak that put her mother under his father's protection. For all the good it made. She died years later when Tyrion was born, and there was nothing his father could do to save her. Tyrion thought about the young girl breaking his fast in the gardens right now. Soon she would wear that cloak too, and she would take the place Tyrion's mother had occupied long ago. Only this time, Tyrion would be the one to drape it over a woman's shoulders. Was the same fate waiting for the future Lady of Casterly Rock? Tyrion though about Margaery, her sweet smiles, the pleasant jokes she made crude sometimes, and the moment on the bridge. You underestimate yourself, my lord. You are a much better man than you believe. Her face at that moment… Then he remembered the bruises on Alla's back, and how she shivered in pain or fear as he touched them. He remembered Tysha, and the barracks. No, he wouldn't allow that to happen again. If he was to put a cloak on the shoulders of a young woman, he would protect her, and he wouldn't fail.
Presents started to pour after that. Since all members of Tyrion's immediate family were absent (his father and his mother because they were dead, his brother and his sister because they were in King's Landing), it was the father of his betrothed who started. It was accepted they would alternate between a gift from a Lannister and from a Tyrell. Genna had wanted Kevan to offer his present first, but in the end the Queen of Thorns had her way and it was her son who began. Lady Margaery had failed to keep her grandmother away from the preparations of the wedding. She was right, it was almost impossible to force Olenna Tyrell to stay away from somewhere when she had decided not to. Genna was eager for the Tyrell matriarch to leave.
The Lord of Highgarden came with a huge cup in gold that was taller than Tyrion legs and feet. It had two handles, one in the shape of a lion, the other one in the shape of a rose. There were also drawings of roses and lions all over the outer surface. Tyrion thought a rose and a lion didn't go quite well together. What a marriage and an alliance would that be?
"From House Tyrell and the people of the Reach, my lord, it is my honor to present you with this wedding cup," boasted the fat man. "May you and my daughter Margaery drink deep and live long."
Tyrion hoped they would both live long. As for drinking deep, that would be no problem at all, though he wasn't sure Lady Margaery would drink as much as he did.
"A huge goblet, Lord Tyrell," Tyrion commented. "Bigger than that and I could drown in it." Genna laughed along with other people. "Thank you, my lord. I assure you I will drink deep in it, and I'll be careful to not die drowning in it."
"Thank you, my lord." Lord Tyrell bowed and went to take back his place, a huge smile on his face. How many useless presents would Tyrion receive? And how many his wife would receive?
The next present was totally unexpected. Someone brought a horse into the Great Hall. It was a huge mare from the Reach, specially saddled and trained for Tyrion. He came to see it more closely and people were looking at it as well. It was a beautiful and very well raised horse. Tyrion never had such a mount. He turned to his uncle.
"Thank you, Kevan. I admit I didn't expect this."
"This is not my present, my lord." Kevan had a thin smile on his lips. "This is Ser Jaime's present. He sent it for you from King's Landing. He regrets he couldn't come."
There would be no present better than this one. Tyrion went back to his place after a moment, but only after a very long moment where he observed the mare his brother gave to him. If only Jaime was there.
Willas Tyrell was the second Tyrell to bring a present. In usual circumstances, it would be Lord Mace's son who should bring him the next present, but Tyrion wouldn't be surprised if the Knight of Flowers didn't give him anything. Right now, he was doing everything to ignore Tyrion and seemed hostile towards a wall or a column. Well, Tyrion could do without a gift from Ser Loras. He liked his two cousins much more.
"My lord," began the crippled Tyrell, "here is my present for you." A young man brought a heavy book with a binding made trimmed with silver. "The first original copy of Social and Economic History of the Seven Kingdoms by Maester Rostovtzeff."
Tyrion had heard about this work. It was quite recent and he didn't have the chance to put a hand on it yet. "Thank you, Lord Willas. I hope you have your own copy."
"I have the second one. It shouldn't do to give the second copy at your wedding," he said with a smirk that Tyrion returned. He liked this cousin of his future wife.
Kevan gave his own present that happened to be a book as well. Considerations on the History of the Reach by Archmaester Perestan. Lord Mace Tyrell almost praised Kevan for choosing such a subject. Willas Tyrell approved as well, though soberly and clearly knowing more about the matter addressed by the archmaester than his father. Ser Garlan Tyrell then offered a battle-axe to Tyrion. He thought he knew why. One of his forebears, King Tyrion II Lannister, was known for his prowess with a battle-axe. Tyrion mentioned it to Ser Garlan who recognized that was the reason he was giving it to him. Tyrion doubted he would ever need it, but still, he appreciated the present. Margaery's second cousin seemed to have respect for him. In his thanks, Tyrion carefully omitted to mention that Tyrion II was also known as the Tormentor for his delight in torture, and that some historians even reported he desired no woman before he made her bleed.
Presents followed without a stop. Horas Redwyne, the son of Lord Paxter Redwyne of the Arbor, brought two casks of the finest Arbor Gold there was, though Tyrion knew the real presents Lord Redwyne sent were two ships named Lord Tyrion's Valor and Lady Margaery. Tyrion's aunt, Genna, brought a tapestry representing Tyrion's mother, the Lady Joanna. Tyrion had seen her image once, in the depths of Casterly Rock. Ser Baelor Hightower, heir to House Hightower and brother to Lady Alerie Tyrell, brought wine from the Rhoyne and a vase from Meereen. Ser Stafford Lannister, his mother's brother, gave leather boots richly decorated. Lord Randyll Tarly, who strangely remembered Tyrion of Stannis Baratheon with the way he gritted his teeth, gave a longsword with jewels on the pommel. Another thing Tyrion was quite sure he would never use, and Lord Tarly seemed to share his thoughts. Ser Damion Lannister offered plates made of gold with a lion on one side and a rose on the other one. Lord Mathis Rowan gave him a red silk tourney pavilion. Antario Jast and his betrothed, Lady Lanna Lannister, brought a book as well, though Tyrion happened to already have two versions of this one. His cousins Cerenna and Myrielle brought two little figurines made of gold in the shape of dragons. Joy, his uncle Gerion's natural daughter, brought a simple wooden figurine that she had made herself and tried to make it look like a dragon. Tyrion kissed her on the cheek to the surprise of many people who didn't expect the Lord of Casterly Rock to show affection like that to a bastard. At least, Joy's gift was sincere and not made to flatter him.
Tyrion had several other presents from other lords of the Reach, but also from the Westerlands. Lady Darlessa Marbrand, the wife of his deceased uncle Tygett, offered him a copy of the Seven-Pointed Star. Ser Addam Marbrand, Lord Gawen Westerling, Lord Raynald Sarwyck, Lord Desmond Crakehall, Ser Eldrick Sarsfield, Lord Edric Payne, Lord Reginald Lannister of Lannisport, Ser Harys Swyft… He couldn't remember all the presents he received. There was a moment he felt Kevan tense by his side when Lady Alysanne Lefford came to offer her own wedding present. She had grown since the last time Tyrion had seen her, and from his memory he could only tell she had grown both in age and beauty. She was courteous and Tyrion couldn't find any blame in her behaviour. Perhaps she was only happy Tyrion was to marry the Rose of Highgarden instead of her. He could only understand her.
Once the long breakfast was over, Tyrion went back to his rooms to put on his wedding clothes. Ty helped him. When they were done, Tyrion looked at himself in the Myrish glass. He was garbed like a king, but he didn't look like one at all. He felt pity for the young woman he was about to marry. No woman deserved a marriage like this one. There was a knock on the door. Ty went to see who it was. He came back with someone else.
"Ser Damion Lannister," he announced.
"Thank you, Ty. Leave us alone," ordered Tyrion. Once his squire had left, he asked the question to his cousin. "Is everything in place?"
"Yes, my lord," Ser Damion. "All the food will be tasted before it reaches you."
"And the food for Lady Margaery as well?"
"Yes. My men will make sure that nothing happens. I chose them myself."
"Very well, Damion. You may leave."
The knight left. What he didn't know was that Kevan had positioned other men to watch Damion's men. Tyrion couldn't be sure about the loyalty of his cousin. Up to now, no other accident had happened, but Tyrion wouldn't take any chance. He had been close to being killed.
Three months ago, a few days before Mace Tyrell confirmed his betrothal with Margaery, there had been an attempt of murder on Tyrion. A cook had tried to poison him with tears of Lys. It was Alla who had put Tyrion on the track. She had been scrubbing the floor in the kitchens when she had heard a steward speaking with the cook about putting something in the lord's dessert. Alla had only understood they were going to put something like tears in the pie Tyrion would eat the following day. She didn't know what were the tears of Lys. However, she had found it strange all the same and had told everything to Tyrion that night when she had come to see him. Tyrion had immediately taken action and questioned the cook. He had guessed right. As soon as he told the cook they knew about the tears of Lys, she had revealed everything, including the place where the poison was.
The cook didn't know all the details. She had only been paid a bag of twenty silver stags to perform this task by one of the stewards working at Casterly Rock. The man's name was Steffon. He was the eldest steward of the Rock. To the opposite of the cook, he denied everything. Even after they discovered a vial of tears of Lys in his chamber, and despite the confessions of the cook, he refused to tell anything. Finally, Tyrion had to use something he didn't like to use at all. After an afternoon of torture, Steffon had spoken. It was Cersei who was behind it. She had promised him the position of First Steward and gold if he managed to get rid of Tyrion before he was married. Tyrion had been furious like the Seven Hells when he heard the confession. He had wanted to return the compliment to his sister and have her poisoned instead. After a brief episode of anger however, he had decided instead to make an example.
Steffon was hanged the next day, then his head adorned the battlements of Casterly Rock for the next month. It was removed as the Tyrells were coming for the wedding. As for the cook, Tyrion sent her to King's Landing with a pie, a head and a message for his sister. Ever since, Tyrion had tasters to make sure his food was safe. Today, he had even more tasters placed to make sure nothing would happen. All the food he and Lady Margaery would take would be tasted before it reached their lips. Tyrion intended to keep doing it after the wedding. Who knew with Cersei? She could try to poison his wife. Anger rose in Tyrion again as the thought came to his mind. If Cersei ever dared anything against his wife, he would kill her.
Ty entered the room once again. "My lord, Willas Tyrell would like to speak with you."
Tyrion frowned. "Now?"
"Yes, my lord. Now."
Tyrion found it a strange moment to speak. He was about to leave for the wedding ceremony. Still, he had nothing against discussing with Willas Tyrell. They were about the same age and had spent a lot of time discussing studies and books in the many libraries of the Rock since the Tyrells arrived. Tyrion allowed the cousin of his future wife to enter.
Willas Tyrell was a young man of average height with brown waving hair, slender with a long face and golden eyes. He wasn't very different from his cousin Ser Loras, though less handsome. The thing that caught the attention for everyone when they saw him was the stick he had to use to walk because of his lame leg. No matter how handsome he could be, the young women only saw the stick. Like always, Tyrion felt a wave of sympathy for the cripple.
"Lord Tyrion," said Willas as greetings.
"Lord Willas. Do you want to sit?" offered Tyrion.
"Yes, that would be welcomed."
Tyrion may have short legs, but he had no problem walking. Creylen once told him he feared Tyrion could never walk properly when he was born, but in the end his short legs proved to be straight if not long. Willas didn't have this luck and walking, even standing, was painful for him if he remained too long in that position. Willas Tyrell sat at a nearby table and leaned his stick against the chair. Tyrion sat in front of him and poured himself some wine.
"Are you sure this is wise, Lord Tyrion? There will be more than enough wine at the wedding."
"Everyone expects me to get drunk today. Why deceive them? It changes nothing if I start right now. Anyway, that won't be enough to get me drunk immediately. Do you want some?"
"No, thank you."
So Tyrion drank alone. "Too bad they couldn't bring the casks of Arbor Gold I received at breakfast. I sent them on the northern hill, in case I or your sister would want some during the night."
Willas Tyrell didn't seem convinced. He shared Tyrion's enthusiasm for books, but not for wine. "Lord Tyrion, I want to tell you that I'm very happy that my cousin Margaery is marrying you."
"Really?" Tyrion wasn't quite sure about it.
"Yes, I am. Let's say that Margaery… Well, she isn't a romantic. If you see what I mean."
"I think I do." That was what Tyrion feared. Margaery Tyrell was marrying him for the title of Lady of Casterly Rock.
"What I mean is… To be honest, I was afraid Margaery would marry anyone who would give her a good position."
"Well, since she's marrying me, it seems she did in the end," replied Tyrion with bitterness.
"That's not what I mean, my lord. I mean… You see, our grandmother, Lady Olenna, she wasn't happy with her marriage. She never loved our grandfather. She always complains about him, and Margaery is very close to our grandmother. She had come to think that it was useless to look for happiness in marriage."
"Perhaps she is wiser than us."
Willas Tyrell ignored what Tyrion just said. "But I think she has a real chance for hapiness with you. She likes you very much, she told me herself. She appreciates and respects you. She even admires you, I think, and believe me she doesn't think so much of many men. I… I would like you to take care of her. Try to make her happy. She needs it."
Tyrion nodded. "You have no fear to have, Lord Willas. Your cousin will be my wife in a few hours. I won't let her down, nor let anyone hurt her. This is my duty as a husband. And I'll do everything I can to make her happy."
"Thank you, my lord. And just so that you may know, if you ever were to hurt her in any way…"
"I suppose Ser Loras will chop my head, then your brother Garlan will cut the rest of me in half, and that before you'll have knocked me out with a heavy book so I may not escape on my short legs."
Willas Tyrell sniggered and Tyrion joined him. "Alright, I think I don't need to threaten you. You know the consequences. Anyway, I doubt that will come to that."
"Perhaps not for you and your brother, but I'm afraid Ser Loras will try to remove my head even if I treat his sister like a goddess."
"Don't worry. Garlan and I will keep him at bay, and Margaery will help us too. Anyway, Loras won't stay here forever. Or else, someone may come down with a terrible case of sword through bowels."
More laughs. Tyrion hoped he wouldn't be the one to suffer the case if it came to that. "Now, if we want to arrive to my wedding in time with my short legs and your lame leg, we should go now."
Tyrion emptied his cup and left his rooms with Willas Tyrell. The wedding was to take place in the Great Sept of Lannisport. It wasn't wide like the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing or the septs of Oldtown, but it was the greatest sept of both Casterly Rock and Lannisport. Furthermore, it made the event more public than if the ceremony was held at the sept inside the Rock. The people of the Westerlands needed something to celebrate. Tyrion's father hadn't been a lord to give much entertainment to his people, and even less to be the subject of their love. It was time they changed it.
Tyrion travelled on a horse from Casterly Rock to Lannisport, Kevan and Damion at his side, Daven, Martyn and Willem following not far behind. The people of Lannisport had prepared them quite a warm welcome. They had known tourneys over the last years, but it was the first time for more than sixty years that they assisted to the marriage of their lord or future lord. Tywin Lannister had married his wife in King's Landing, so the last time the people of the Westerlands saw the wedding of their lord at home was when Tyrion's grandfather, Tytos Lannister, had married Lady Jeyne Marbrand. Even then, Tytos Lannister hadn't been Lord of Casterly Rock yet and would only become so ten years later. Now, the people would witness the wedding of their actual lord with a young and beautiful lady from another kingdom.
Everything was assembled to make the ceremony a success with the people. However, Tyrion knew very well that the people were cheering more for their new lady than for him. Margaery had made a triumphant arrival in Lannisport last week, getting through the main road on feet, waving her hand to everyone, kissing children who brought a rose to her. She had gone to Lannisport two other times since she arrived. The first time was to buy vegetables, fruits, jewels and toys in the markets with her handmaidens and cousins. The citizens of Lannisport saw for the first time the Lady of Casterly Rock, or the future Lady of Casterly Rock, meddle with them. The second time had been to visit an orphanage. She had distributed food and toys to the children there. Within a single week, she managed to make herself more popular than Tyrion's family.
They arrived before the sept and dismounted. The sept had been built by the Lannisters of Lannisport, so it wasn't as richly decorated as the smaller sept in Casterly Rock. Furthermore, the Ironmen never had any scruple to loot the septs, and they sacked Lannisport many times through history. Still, the structure was impressive and taller than all the other buildings in Lannisport. They climbed the steps under the cheers of the crowd and the sound of the bells. Inside, many lords and ladies both from the Westerlands and the Reach had already gathered. Tyrion spotted a few of the Tyrells as well, including Lord Mace and his wife. She gave Tyrion a disapproving look when he passed near her. Perhaps he should be careful to not be poisoned by his soon-to-be mother-in-law. They arrived before the marriage altar, between the statues of the Father and the Mother. There, the septon seemed lost in the argument between the Queen of Thorns and Genna.
"That shouldn't be so difficult to make these gold roses. I thought you Lannisters shit gold."
"Then in this case the Tyrells must shit roses, I suppose," replied Genna.
Tyrion wanted to laugh, and he was barely able to refrain. Kevan, standing by his side, looked annoyed and he was the one to stop all of it before it went too far. "Genna, Lady Olenna, please forgive me for interrupting your discussion, but the ceremony will begin very soon," he explained carefully.
"Then take it, you'll need it more than me." Genna threw the wedding cloak at Kevan who clumsily caught it. "And try to talk sense in that old crone."
Genna walked away furiously. Olenna Tyrell shrugged. "I suppose it's time for me to prepare my oaf of a son."
She walked away as well, though more slowly than Genna. Tyrion turned to Kevan. "I suppose I should take the cloak," Tyrion said. Kevan gave it to him. "I believe it's useless to ask ourselves why my sweet sister sent no present."
"She should have," said Kevan. "That's unworthy of her rank, and her name."
"Don't worry, Kevan. I would rather receive no present from her. The one she sent to me before my wedding could have been the last."
Kevan looked uncomfortable. "We shouldn't discuss about it here."
"Your own men are in place?"
"They are. You have nothing to fear. Now, be prepared."
"Kevan." Tyrion called for him as he started to walk away. "Were you happy at your wedding?"
"I was." A short smile appeared on his uncle's face. "Tywin was happy too. Tywin almost never smiled, but the day he married, he was smiling." Tyrion wondered if he would smile today. "Tyrion, maybe you're not marrying a woman you love like your father and I did…"
"I wed a woman I loved once." Tyrion looked straight to his uncle at this moment, and Kevan seemed uncomfortable again.
"Yes, you did. But you are still marrying a very beautiful young girl, who is of age with you, who comes from one of the most powerful families of this country and she doesn't seem to hate you at all. So don't complain too much. You could have much worse for a wedding."
Kevan walked away on that. He was right. Tyrion was marrying a woman half the men of Westeros would dream of marrying, and still he found a way to be unhappy about this. He tried to recover and thought about the time he spent with Lady Margaery during the last week. You underestimate yourself, my lord. You are a much better man than you believe. She wasn't evil. She loved flowers and music. She was intelligent and clever, far more than all the other women Tyrion had met in his existence, except maybe Genna. She had a good heart, or else she would never have visited an orphanage. Tyrion couldn't imagine Cersei visiting an orphanage. She would find that it stank too much and that the people there were ugly and unimportant. And she was beautiful. Very beautiful.
He heard the cheers growing outside. He thought he had an idea why. A servant came to say the bride had arrived. The cheers and the applauses kept growing. Tyrion climbed the last steps to stand at the top. His heart began to pound in his chest. She was coming. For the second time in his life, he would be married. However, for him, all this ceremony was entirely new. When he had wed Tysha, there were only he and his wife, a drunken septon to marry them and a few pigs as witnesses. As for the wedding feast, it had consisted mostly in one of the witnesses. No red cloak, no walk down the aisle, no crowd cheering, no thousands guest, no great feast, no cake, no presents. There wasn't even a wedding night. The wedding night preceded the wedding the first time. That had been the wedding of the malformed dwarf with a wheelwright's daughter. Now, that would be the wedding of the Lord of Casterly Rock with the Rose of Highgarden.
The day was almost perfect for a wedding, but there were many clouds in the sky, and right now one probably blocked the light of the sun where the sept stood. As a result, the sun didn't blind them as it should when the great doors of the sept opened. However, they didn't need the sun to be blinded. The bride could blind them all by herself and Tyrion himself was dazzled by her appearance. As she walked down the aisle at the arm of her father, Tyrion could only marvel at her. Her hair was a complicated arrangement of braids that added one feet to her height. Her wedding gown was a light one, all white, covered with silver trims in the shape of leaves, branches and roses. It let her arms and most of her shoulders bare, and she had a train that looked like it was covered with autumn leaves that fell from trees. Her gown also allowed a plunging neckline that put in evidence the outline and the curves of her breasts, and a necklace whose chain was made of gold with a double precious stone as a pendant in the shape of a rose. One side of the pendant was a ruby, the other side was a sapphire. Right now, it was the ruby people could see, the sapphire hidden against her chest. Tyrion had sent it to her yesterday in the evening. It was one of the many jewels that had belonged to his mother. He had found all of them in a secret alcove a few months ago. His father had hidden them there apparently, and Tyrion had decided that this one would be particularly appropriate for the Rose of Highgarden. She also wore a green cloak with symbols of roses on it, perfectly adjusted to not cover her arms and shoulders.
As Margaery Tyrell walked to him, Tyrion couldn't remove his eyes from her. Her beauty was striking to anyone in normal times, but right now it was without comparison. He was so stunned by her that she had almost reached the steps leading to the altar when he realized she was looking at him too. She was smiling, like she always did, sweetly, only at him. She kept her eyes locked on him as she climbed the steps. When she arrived at his level, her father removed the cloak from her shoulders. Tyrion noticed at this moment that half of her back was bare. He wondered what Genna thought about it. She didn't appreciate the tendency in the Reach to wear clothes that revealed more than they hid.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," declared the septon.
They had placed a stool so Tyrion could put the cloak on Margaery's shoulders, but before he could climb on it, she knelt on the floor and pushed aside her hair with a hand so her nape and shoulders were bare. Taken aback, Tyrion stepped away from the stool and slowly cloaked her. As his hands were on her shoulders, her right hand came to his own and she held it for a moment, tenderly. Then it was over, she stood up with the red cloak on her shoulders and faced the septon, not without casting another sweet smile to Tyrion, though this time he had the impression to see some of the expression he saw on the bridge.
"My lord, my lady, my lords, my ladies," proclaimed the septon, "we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one soul, one heart, now and forever."
Long prayers followed that Tyrion remembered from his readings in the time he had wanted to become High Septon. He looked from time to time at his bride. Many times she caught his eyes and smiled in return, but always moving her eyes towards the septon in the end, to remember him they should listen. There was a silent laugh on her lips a few times when she did so. She didn't seem to care much more about what the septon said than Tyrion did. Finally, the moment came to tie the ribbon around their hands.
"In the sight of the Seven," recited the septon, "I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words."
Her hand was over his own, and Tyrion used his thumb to rub hers. She gave a tender squeeze in response as they turned to each other. She was looking down as he was looking up. Tyrion said his words.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers, and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days."
She said similar words, and as they looked upon each other, Tyrion realized he meant these words. He had said them to someone else one day, and had meant them too. He barely heard the words that the septon said as a final prayer with his hand on theirs.
"Let it be known that Margaery of House Tyrell and Tyrion of House Lannister are one flesh, one soul, one heart. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."
The ribbon was removed, but their hands remained together. Tyrion realized he had to say something, and again Margaery surprised him by kneeling. The words came out by themselves.
"With this kiss, I pledge my love."
And they kissed. Tyrion barely heard the applauses in the sept. Her kiss was sweet and lovely. He didn't know how long it lasted, but he knew it lasted for a long time before they both stood tall again before all the nobility of the Westerlands and the Reach. Their hands remained linked together, like they were chained, as they walked down the steps from the altar and through the sept and emerged in the outside, only to be welcomed by an even bigger crowd. All the people of Lannisport seemed to be here, from the richest merchant to the poorest whore. Tyrion walked as if he was in a dream, Margaery smiling to the people and waving her hand at them, shining. As if everything was to go well on this day, sunshine broke and it made Tyrion's wife appear even more beautiful.
Tyrion only left his walking dream when they entered the carriage that would bring them back to Casterly Rock for the festivities of the wedding. Margaery got rid of her cloak there, and Tyrion wasn't to complain since it allowed him to contemplate her much better. Anyway, the cloak was only for the wedding ceremony and there was no reason to keep it afterwards.
"So, it appears we are married, Tyrion," she said once they were inside.
"It appears we are, Margaery."
She smiled at him again and kissed him another time. The cheers grew much louder all of a sudden, and she broke their kiss, blushing and giggling. "It seems we're making a show of ourselves."
"Isn't that what we must be? A show for the common people?"
They both burst into laughs as the carriage moved forward, people around all the way. Margaery went to the window and waved her hand to the crowd. Tyrion remained behind, letting her be the center of the attention. After a moment she turned to him.
"You should come to thank them too," she said.
"I'm afraid you're the one they want to see," Tyrion replied.
"The people must see you, Tyrion. Or else they will never love you. People don't love a lord who never shows himself and stays hidden."
Tyrion smiled. "Alright, but if you turn out less popular because of me, that will be your fault."
And so Tyrion came to wave his hand and smile at the people of the Westerlands just like his wife. She slid her hand that wasn't waving into his own as they did so. They had to do it for a very long time. There were people all along the way from the sept to the Rock, even outside the city. It was only when they started the climb to the Lion's Mouth that people stopped to line along the way and they could take a pause. Tyrion's short arm was sore, but his other hand remained with his wife's.
It was only when they reached the courtyard that their hands parted. They left the carriage to go into a common litter that would bring them to the northern hill. There were so many highborn people present for the wedding that they decided the feast would take place there. Even the Great Hall of Casterly Rock couldn't contain so many people. And the weather allowed to make the wedding feast in the beautiful gardens of the northern hill. Margaery had liked them so much when Tyrion had showed them to her.
Before they could reach the litter however, his wife found herself surrounded by her friends she brought with her from the Reach, and soon Cerenna, Myrielle, Lanna and Joy joined them. They were all complimenting her on everything and congratulating her. Joy went to kiss Tyrion on the cheek, which prevented him from being left completely apart. As he waited away for his wife to find a way to get out of this women crowd, he jumped when someone talked to him from his back.
"Congratulations, Lord Tyrion."
Tyrion turned to find a young woman of no more than fifteen, wearing a pale blue gown in the Reach style with a brown doublet displaying leaves symbols. She was taller than Tyrion, without any surprise, approximately the same height than Margaery, had angular features and a square face, green eyes and brown hair. It was all brought together in a long single braid falling on her back. Her clothes let her arms free, but completely hid her shoulders and barely allowed people to see anything below her throat. That was disconcerting for Tyrion considering how the people of the Reach, especially the Tyrells, tended to wear very light clothes. There was something strange in her voice as well, an accent that wasn't from the Reach.
"Thank you, my lady," replied Tyrion, intrigued by this young woman. He had the impression to have seen her before. Tyrion saw Willas Tyrell coming out of a carriage behind. It dawned on him. "I saw you with Willas Tyrell once in the library. You're one of Margaery's handmaiden, aren't you?"
"Yes, my lord. My name is Mira. Lady Mira Forrester."
The name was familiar to Tyrion. He examined her again. The brown hair, the green eyes, the northern accent… The northern accent. His mind went to the tourney of Lannisport more than five years ago. He remembered a man with a beard, but with the same eyes, the same color of hair and the same accent.
"Are you Lord Gregor's daughter?"
She smiled, obviously pleased. "I am. He met you at the tourney of Lannisport."
"I remember. He was a good man, and a man of honor."
Lady Mira flushed. "It's very kind of you to say so, Lord Tyrion."
"Tyrion, I believe it's time to go if we don't want to miss the feast of our own wedding," told him Margaery at this time. She had found a way to free herself from her friends. "Mira, follow us behind."
"Yes, my lady," dutifully answered the girl.
Tyrion followed his wife inside the litter and they went forward for the wedding feast. Inside the litter, they tried to talk first, but quickly they closed the shutters and Tyrion kissed his wife. She was so sweet, and so good. She took his face between her hands, returning his own kisses eagerly. He was aroused like he never was for months. How long since he had a woman for the last time? He began to move his hands on her arms, then her shoulders, and started to caress the outline of her breasts. When he started it, Margaery caught his hands and took away her lips from his.
"Be patient, Tyrion. We're not yet at the wedding night." However, she resumed their kissing, though perhaps less eagerly.
Tyrion wanted her, but she was right, and he didn't want to force himself upon her. She was his wife. They kept kissing all the same all the way, and it was very difficult for Tyrion to not start to remove what few clothes she had. By luck, they arrived at the northern side of the Lion's Bridge, and there they had to get out of the litter. Tyrion would have to wait before he could resume their kissing session. That would be for the wedding night. He wished they were already there.
The dinner consisted of thirty-nine courses. Genna and the Tyrells had agreed long ago on this number because Tyrion was twenty-three while Margaery was sixteen. The addition of their ages gave thirty-nine. The first course was a carrot soup, with onions and Parmesan cheese cut in strips on the surface. The second was shrimps with creamy sauces of the taste of peach and pear. There was also a salad with fried onions and cold peppers.
There was also wine. A lot of wine. Tyrion watched his mother-in-law and his brother-in-law eye him suspiciously at best. Mace Tyrell made many toasts, to his daughter, to Tyrion, to their marriage, to the alliance of House Lannister and House Tyrell, to his wife, to his son, then to the wine and the food until he made a toast for the jugglers and singers and even the people that would sweep the floor after the wedding. He obviously didn't have Tyrion's tolerance for wine.
After what may have been the fifth cup Tyrion drank, Margaery put a hand on it. "I think you drank more than enough," she offered as an explanation.
"Less than I plan to. It's man's duty to get drunk at his own wedding," Tyrion said.
"I don't want you to end toasting to everything like my father." She took his cup and put it far away from him, then leaned to kiss him on the cheek. "I don't want you to be drunk on our wedding night. I want to see if you really are experienced like people seem to suggest."
She had a wicked smile when she got away. That wasn't the kind of things people expected from a lady, but Tyrion wasn't about to complain about it. So he had to limit himself to water from now on. Sadly, the lack of wine made him think about Margaery and their wedding night even more.
Tyrion mostly spoke with his wife, but he also spoke with Kevan, who was sitting to his left, and Genna who sat a little farther. The left side of the table was completed by Damion, Daven, Dorna who was pregnant and Darlessa Marbrand. Again, Tyrion regretted Jaime wasn't there. The right side of the high table was occupied by the Tyrells. In the order from Margaery's right, there was Lord Mace Tyrell, his wife Alerie, the Queen of Thorns, Ser Loras, Lord Willas, Ser Garlan and his wife Leonette.
People came to offer their congratulations of course. All the lords and ladies of the Westerlands and the Reach who attended came, from Lady Alysanne Lefford (her father was mysteriously absent) and Ser Baelor Hightower to Lord Gawen Westerling. Tyrion was glad Gregor Clegane the Mountain wasn't among the guests. Tyrion saw Lady Margot Lannister, a distant cousin, wife to Lord Titus Peake and Lady of Starpike, for the first time in many years. He expected more marriages to take place between houses from the Reach and the Westerlands in the following years. Joy came to congratulate them as well, kissing Tyrion on the cheek again. Margaery joined in kissing Joy on the cheek too. Tyrion was glad of it. Joy was very lonely since his uncle Gerion disappeared in the Smoking Sea.
A more sensible moment came when Lord and Lady Westerling came to offer their congratulations. They were followed by their daughter, Jeyne, behind them, though her mother seemed to wish she hadn't followed them. Sybell Westerling acted courteously, but her eyes were cold and it was obvious she was angry that Tyrion had found a wife. She certainly hoped he wouldn't find one and be left with no other choices than to marry her daughter or spend his life in celibacy. When Lord Gawen and his wife left, Jeyne remained a little while longer. She was still shy and seemed very impressed by Margaery. Tyrion's wife behaved very well and smiled kindly at the girl, thanking her.
Finally, Jeyne turned to Tyrion. "I want to thank you, my lord. For what you told me the last time. It helped me a lot."
"It was my pleasure, Lady Jeyne," replied Tyrion.
The young girl left, thinly smiling. "What did she mean? What did you tell her?" Margaery asked.
"Well, you see my dear, after my father died, there were a few lords who tried to marry their daughter to me. Lord and Lady Westerling were among them. So they brought their daughter Jeyne to a feast here a few months ago."
"I suppose you refused."
"Our families were already discussing our marriage. The Westerlings are among the oldest families in the Westerlands, but they are probably the poorest of the highborn families here as well. Lady Westerling is the granddaughter of a merchant, and her grandmother was born in the east. Some say she was a witch. That makes their children bad marriage prospects."
"But what did you tell her?"
Tyrion sighed. "I saw her being mocked by other people. So I gave her an advice to not let herself being hurt by the opinion of the others."
"What was it?"
"Never forget who we are, because the world will never forget it. All we can do is accept who we are, and this way people will never be able to hurt us with that." Margaery was looking strangely at him. "I am a dwarf, Margaery. There will always be people to laugh at me and mock me, no matter the titles, the power and the riches I have."
Margaery smiled sadly while taking his hand under the table. "Don't listen to them. They are wrong." Again, he saw the same thing he witnessed on the bridge. Again, it disappeared after a very short time and the sweet smile returned. "If there ever are people to mock you, I'll take care of them."
"Don't worry, my lady. I can deal with them myself."
There were jugglers, singers, bards and many other artists to entertain them. Some came from the Reach and had followed Margaery and her family from Highgarden. There were some from Lannisport and the Westerlands as well. Many familiar songs were played. A Rose of Gold for the Tyrells and Margaery, Maiden, Mother, and Crone for the septons and the few religious people (Kevan's wife was delighted by it), My Lady Wife for all romantic young girls and boys. Cerenna and Myrielle seemed to love the latter more than anything. The Rains of Castamere were not played. Tyrion's father was no longer alive to be flattered with it, and Tyrion had forbidden the song from being played today. This was no music for a wedding, nor to celebrate an alliance with a powerful family. As they listened to the singers and musicians, Tyrion and Margaery started to drink from the huge cup her father had given to them. Of course, Tyrion was the one to drink the most from it. A young woman came to perform a song titled False Love.
A brisk young sailor courted me,
He stole away my liberty,
He stole my heart with a free good will,
I must confess I love him still
Down in the meadows she did run,
A gathering flowers as they sprung,
Every sort she gave a pull,
Till she had gathered her apron full
When first I wore my apron low,
He followed me through frost and snow,
But now my apron is up to my chin,
He passes by and says nothing
There is an alehouse in this town,
Where my love goes and sits him down,
He takes another girl on his knee,
Why is not that a grief to me
Ah, griev'd I am and I'll tell you why,
Because she has more gold than I,
Her gold will waste, her beauty blast,
Poor girl she'll come like me at last,
I wish my baby it was born,
Set smiling on its father's knee,
And I was dead and in my grave,
And green grass growing over me
There is a bird all in yonder tree,
Some say 'tis blind, and cannot see,
I wish it had been the same for me,
Before I had gained my love's company,
There is a man on yonder hill,
He has a heart as hard as steel,
He has two hearts instead of one,
He'll be a rogue when I am gone
But when they found her corpse was cold,
They went to her false love and told,
I am glad says he, she's done so well,
I long to hear her funeral knell,
In Abraham's bosom she does sleep,
While his tormenting soul must weep,
He often wished his time o'er again,
That his bride he might make her merry
And marry her soon.
After this song, Margaery turned to him. "Tyrion, perhaps it is time for the announcement."
Tyrion remembered. "Well, this was your idea. Announce it."
Tyrion turned to the herald who hit the floor three times with his golden stick, asking for silence. The conversations stopped. "The Lady of Casterly Rock would like to say a few words," the herald said loudly. Someone would have to be deaf to not hear him, even if this person was completely at the other extremity of the gardens.
Margaery stood up to speak for the first time as Lady of the Westerlands. "We are so fortunate to enjoy this marvelous food and drink. Not all among us are so lucky. To thank the gods for bringing House Lannister and House Tyrell together, Lord Tyrion and I have decided that the leftovers from our feast be given to the poorest in the city of Lannisport."
There were general applauses among the attendance. That only caused Tyrion to admire her even more. The declaration was followed by a new singer who played a song who made everyone already drunk or about to get drunk laugh out loudly and cheer up to no end. They were at the twenty-ninth course.
We're merry men of the Reach
So sturdy and so stout
When the day is done
When it's time for fun
We'll drink and sing and shout!
You weak livered milk drinkers
Can let your throats run dry
Cause there's just one drink
That we will sink
Until the day we die
Drinking mead in the halls of Whiterun
The maidens and the men!
We swig our brew
Until we spew
Then we fill our mugs again!
You can keep your filthy Skooma
It makes our bellies bleed
Cause when we raise our flagon
To another dead dragon
There is just one drink we need...
NORD MEAD!
Chug a mug of mead
And another mug of mead
Chug another mug of mead
Till you fall down
Chug a mug of mead
And another mug mead
Chug another mug of mead, warrior!
After the long hard days
Of hunting and of war
Our throats are tired and thirsty
And our bodies drenched in gore
But we won't spend our evenings
Feeling tired and feeling spent
We perk right up when we breathe in
That wholesome honey scent
That Cyrodilic Brandy
Too fruity for these tongues
You can keep your fancy alto wine
It tastes like horker dung!
Balmora Blue tastes great to you
But here we like it plain
Just fill my mug
With the mighty jug
Of honey, heart and grain
Drinking mead in the halls of Whiterun
The maidens and the men!
We swig our brew
Until we spew
Then we fill our mugs again!
You can keep your filthy Skooma
It makes our bellies bleed
Cause when we raise our flagon
To another dead dragon
There is just one drink we need...
NORD MEAD!
Chug a mug of mead
And another mug of mead
Chug another mug of mead
Till you fall down
Chug a mug of mead
And another mug mead
Chug another mug of mead, warrior!
Tyrion and Margaery both laughed at the song, but also at the people who were applauding as if it was the best song they ever heard. A giant pigeon pie was served as the main dessert. Time to dance came. A singer from Oldtown had come to play new music.
"I believe we must open it," said Margaery.
"You really want everyone to laugh at us for the rest of our days?" asked Tyrion.
"I thought you said we were never to forget who we are, so people couldn't hurt us with this."
"Perhaps, and that's because I remember that I'm a dwarf that I don't dance. This won't give a good show for the people here. And they will laugh at you as much as they will laugh at me. Let them only laugh at me."
Margaery smiled fondly at him. "If people are going to laugh at you, then they will have to laugh at me, and this will be enough to convince many of them to not laugh at all."
Margaery stood up and extended her hand to Tyrion. Surrendering, Tyrion got on his feet and took his wife's hand to lead her to the dancing floor, unless she was the one to lead him. As expected, some people laughed at them when they opened the dance, though he also saw some incredulous faces among the people of the Reach. Willas and Garlan seemed to find it funny, but in a good sense rather than in a mocking one. In the end, other people joined the dance and they were forgotten in the sea of people. Margaery led him, making Tyrion's clumsy steps middling instead of terrible. Tyrion found himself lost in the dance, looking only into his wife's eyes as the slow song played.
The road now leads onward
As far as can be
Winding lanes
And hedgerows in threes
By purple mountains
And round every bend
All roads lead to you
There is no journey's end.
Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands
Deep in the winter
Amidst falling snow
High in the air
Where the bells they all toll
And now all around me
I feel you still here
Such is the journey
No mystery to fear.
Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands
The road now leads onward
And I know not where
I feel in my heart
That you will be there
Whenever a storm comes
Whatever our fears
The journey goes on
As your love ever nears
Here is my heart and I give it to you
Take me with you across this land
These are my dreams, so simple and few
Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands
They only made two dances. Afterwards, Tyrion went back to his place and let his wife dance with other people. All the lords of the Reach and the Westerlands wanted to dance with her. She also danced with Kevan, Damion, Daven, even with Martyn and Willem, and she danced with her father, her brother and her two cousins.
Tyrion sat there, looking at her. She was his wife now. He was a married man again. The sun was beginning to disappear and torches were being lit everywhere. Tyrion kept looking at his wife, admiring the way she danced, her gracious movements, her hair, her arms, her hands, her slender frame.
"Lord Tyrion."
For the second time today, Mira Forrester took him by surprise, only this time she was almost before him when she surprised him. He had been too much focused on Margaery to notice the presence of her handmaiden.
"Lady Mira. Are you not dancing?" he asked.
"No. I already danced, and you can get quite out of breath after some time." She effectively had some colors on her cheeks.
"Are you enjoying the feast, my lady?"
"Yes, very much."
"I suppose this is different from the ones you had in the North."
"It is, but not so much. Feasts in the North are pleasant too."
"How could a northern girl manage to become the handmaiden to the daughter of the Lord of Highgarden?" Tyrion wondered how that happened. Highborn girls from the North seldom served south of the Neck.
"My mother was born in the south. She is a Branfield. Her family lived…"
"In the Crownlands. They remained loyal to the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, they all died in the war and their lands were given to House Sunglass."
The young woman looked astonished. "How do you know that?"
Tyrion smiled. "I am a dwarf, Lady Mira. And I am rich. Rich dwarves have nothing to do of their time but read and learn the history of all the houses of the Seven Kingdoms."
"I'm surprised of your knowledge, my lord. My mother still has relations in the south, and since I am her eldest daughter, she wanted me to learn the ways of the south, so she sent me to Highgarden."
"Well, you've seen Highgarden and Casterly Rock up to now. I suppose you've seen much more of the south than many Northerners."
She nodded. "Probably."
"Are you going to stay here with my wife?"
"I think I will. Unless my lord doesn't want me to."
"Not at all. I don't want to part my wife from her handmaidens. And it's been too long since the last time we had people from outside the Westerlands living here."
A fist fell on the table. Mira Forrester was standing before Tyrion on his left, and Ser Loras Tyrell had arrived from the right. Tyrion noticed he was staggering and shaking, and his eyes were lost in some way, but he looked with all the anger in the world at him.
"You stay away from my sister," he said, babbling in a low voice. His breath only brought further evidence that he was drunk. He didn't have his sister to stop him from drinking like Tyrion.
"Ser Loras, I think you should sit down," Tyrion said calmly.
"You do not touch her." The Knight of Flowers separated his words as carefully as he could in his drunken state. His eyes were set on Tyrion and didn't move from him.
"Ser Loras," intervened Lady Mira, "you promised to dance with my friend Sera to Lady Margaery. Did you dance with her yet?"
The heir to Highgarden didn't give any attention to the northern lady. "I saw what you did in the carriage, when you left the sept," he resumed. Tyrion didn't like the turn this conversation was taking. "You stay away from her. Or else I'll cut you in half and make you the quarter man."
Tyrion shrugged. "I just wouldn't have the same ring to it."
Ser Loras didn't seem to take the jape very well and seemed about to really cut Tyrion in half when a firm hand gripped his arm. Taken aback, the young knight turned on his heels to face another knight, Ser Garlan Tyrell.
"Loras, you are drunk," he said. "It's not because you're a knight that you can threaten a lord. Go back to your place and don't leave it until the wedding is over if you know what's best for you."
Loras Tyrell seemed lost for a moment, but in the end he walked away very clumsily. Ser Garlan watched Ser Loras until he sat down, then turned to Tyrion. "Please forgive my cousin's behavior, Lord Tyrion. He's drunk."
"It's obvious," said Tyrion. "I have quite an experience for being drunk. But I'll forget about it as long as he doesn't carry out his threat to make me the quarter man."
"I'll make sure he won't. Loras may be good with a sword, but not as good as me."
"I'm glad to hear it."
Ser Garlan Tyrell didn't seem about to kill Tyrion for marrying his cousin. For the first time since the wedding began, Tyrion was glad Jaime wasn't there. If he had been there, he and Loras Tyrell would probably have ended fighting with real sword, and whoever would have died, both the alliance between the Lannisters and the Tyrells and Tyrion's marriage would be over.
Ser Garlan Tyrell turned to Lady Mira and invited her to dance. Margaery was dancing with Daven. When another song came, she and Lady Mira traded their partners. However, the song that played at this moment caught Tyrion's attention and his mind focused on it entirely, not noticing his wife anymore.
I loved a maid as fresh as spring,
with sunrise in her hair.
I loved a maid as fair as summer
with sunlight in her hair.
I loved a maid as red as autumn,
with sunset in her hair.
I loved a maid as white as winter,
with moonglow in her hair.
The song was sung in the Myrish language, so many people didn't understand it. Tyrion did. There was a girl who sang it for him years ago. Black hair. Blue eyes. A lovely face. Dozens silver coins, and a gold one.
I loved a maid as fresh as spring,
with sunrise in her hair.
I loved a maid as fair as summer
with sunlight in her hair.
I loved a maid as red as autumn,
with sunset in her hair.
I loved a maid as white as winter,
with moonglow in her hair.
Tyrion looked at his wife, a gorgeous rose from the Reach, the pride of House Tyrell. Who was he? A dwarf. A malformed and stunted dwarf. He had a wife once, and she proved to be a lie. He looked at Margaery Tyrell. Her sweet smiles, her supposed innocence, the way she always looked happy… As always, he was a fool. The song came to an end, though it kept playing in Tyrion's head. Before another one could start, Lord Mace Tyrell awkwardly stood up and loudly cleared his throat.
"My dear friends," he declared, "there is no greater joy for a father than to see his daughter married to a brave and good man." Here he went again. "However, my happiness is much greater than that, since this marriage has bound the Reach and the Westerlands forever, bringing our two families together, to make only one. To House Tyrell, and House Lannister."
Lord Mace Tyrell raised his cup and everyone who still had one raised it too. "TO HOUSE TYRELL! TO HOUSE LANNISTER!" Tyrion had to do the same, but before he brought his own cup to his lips, his new wife came back to him and they both drink from the giant goblet her father offered in the morning. She was still smiling sweetly at him. Her smile produced mixed feelings in Tyrion.
"But now…" Tyrion's father-in-law didn't seem to be done. He stammered before he could articulate words correctly. "There is an important part of the wedding that hasn't been carried out yet. What am I saying, an important part? A vital part, that is."
So the time had come. Tyrion looked at Margaery. Her expression hadn't changed. Maybe she didn't understand what was coming, but Tyrion didn't think that was it. The other possibility was that she didn't allow her emotions to surface. The thought didn't make Tyrion happy.
The Fat Flower kept going on. "For every wedding, there must be a bedding. And every bedding calls for a bedding ceremony."
There was a moment of silence, and then a first guest shouted. "To bed!" A second one did the same, then a third, until it was all a rabble of the same shouting. "TO BED! TO BED! TO BED! TO BED! TO BED!"
There was still a cup of Arbor Gold that Tyrion hadn't finished near him. He seized it and emptied it in a single gulp. He walked around the high table to stand right next to Margaery, but on the way he made a sign to the herald. Without hesitation, he hit the floor with the golden stick very loudly, and the shouts ended. No matter where, when or why, he always did as the Lord of Casterly Rock ordered him. Tyrion had the silence he wanted.
"I'm sorry, Lord Tyrell, but I believe we can dispense with the bedding ceremony."
Mace Tyrell didn't seem to understand what Tyrion just said for a moment, but then he stammered. "Lord Tyrion, there must always be…"
"There will be no bedding ceremony," repeated Tyrion firmly. "Or else I could end up like the quarter man. That wouldn't be good for our new alliance. Ask your drunken son if you don't understand what I mean." Tyrion turned to his wife, who was looking at the whole scene with disbelief. "Would you follow me, my lady?"
"Of course." Her smiling face returned instantly.
As they walked through the silent crowd, Tyrion threw a last comment. "Don't make these faces. I understand the men are deceived, but you ladies have all reasons to be happy."
There were a few laughs among the guests, but mostly the silence lingered. They walked away from the wedding without anyone stopping them. They were at Casterly Rock and this was Tyrion's castle. No one would dare to oppose him publicly there. They walked along an outside corridor with arches linking square pillars in red marble, torches keeping enough light to not let them fall into darkness. Tyrion looked at his wife. She had an odd expression.
"Sorry I deprived you from the bedding ceremony, my lady," he finally said. "Only, I wanted to prevent an accident between me and your brother." He was lying. That wasn't the reason why he forbade the bedding, though that was probably a good reason enough.
"What is the matter with my brother? Did he do something he shouldn't have?" she asked.
Tyrion shrugged. "It seems he didn't take well the show we made in the carriage. He told me to stay far from you, or else he would cut me in half. And it is difficult to stay far from someone we marry during the bedding. He was drunk."
"I'm sorry, Tyrion. That's unacceptable. I'll talk to him tomorrow."
"Don't bother yourself, Margaery. He's only a brother who wants to protect his beloved sister."
Tyrion could easily imagine Jaime acting just like Ser Loras at Cersei's wedding. He wondered how his brother kept still when she married Robert. He couldn't pretend he would have done the same as Jaime at their sister's wedding. They entered the Golden Tower, a five roofs tower whose tiles at the top were made of gold, hence its name. Unfortunately, the bedchamber was at the top of the tower. When they reached it, Tyrion's legs were painful and he knew wince was obvious on his face.
"Are you alright, Tyrion? Have you hurt yourself?" asked Margaery, looking concerned.
"No. That's the disadvantage of being a dwarf. With short legs, every climb of stairs turns into an ordeal."
Tyrion went to sit. His legs needed rest and he sighed when he dropped himself in it. The bedchamber was richly decorated. It was circular, like the Golden Tower was, with a balcony encircling it all. Four huge windows gave access to it, with silken curtains flying in the wind at each of them. The curtains to the east and the west were of golden color, while the curtain at the north was red and the one at the south was green. If the windows had been positioned differently, the two northern ones would have been red and gold while the southern ones would have been green and gold. The bed they had was large enough to contain six people. The cover was all of gold color, while the sigils of House Lannister and House Tyrell were finely carved into the headboard. The pillows were green on one side, red on the other one. Everything in the room had been arranged to display the new alliance between Tyrion's and Margaery's families.
"I understand what it is. Willas has the same problem. And yet he keeps climbing the stairs to the rookery where he can look at the hawks and ravens flying," Margaery said.
Again, Tyrion saw the face she had on the Lion's Bridge. You underestimate yourself, my lord. You are a much better man than you believe. "I like your two cousins. They are good fellows."
"Yes, they are. They like you too. Especially Willas."
"I wish we could say the same about your brother."
"He just needs time. I'm sure he'll come to appreciate you."
"Let's hope this happens before he decides to kill me for real."
"Before that, he will have to get through me."
There was a playful smile on her lips and they both sniggered. Tyrion looked at the jug of wine on the table. He recognized the Arbor Gold that was given to him this morning, and poured himself a cup. He offered one to Margaery and she took it, sitting right in front him. As she sat, she leaned forward, which put in evidence the lines of her breasts. Tyrion took a gulp, still looking at her. He could only notice how beautiful and gorgeous she was.
"I'm sorry I annulled the bedding ceremony," he said.
"Well, that was unexpected. I didn't think I would get to our chambers on my feet and with my clothes still on me. That was unusual," she answered, smiling.
Tyrion sighed. "Both my weddings were unusual. I'm unusual, so that's no surprise if my weddings are too."
"Both your weddings?" Margaery had a questioning look on her face. The smile was gone. "You've been married before?"
Tyrion wanted to curse himself. He let it escape. He didn't want to talk about it, but there was no way back. Better to tell her than let her wonder what happened. "Yes. I was only sixteen at the time, and it didn't last very long. Only a fortnight."
Margaery's face showed utter surprise. "She died?" Tyrion nodded. In truth, what had happened to his first wife had been far worse, but he had no wish to share it with the woman he could be about to sleep with. "Only after a fortnight?"
Tyrion sighed and looked down at his cup. "A very short marriage… as befits a very short man, I suppose."
He stared at his cup for a moment, remembering what he thought to be his first wedding. He felt a hand on his left one that laid on his knee. He looked up to see Margaery's concerned face. "I'm sorry, Tyrion."
Again, he saw the face he saw on the bridge. You underestimate yourself, my lord. You are a much better man than you believe. Tyrion kept looking at her for a moment, waiting for the sweet smile to return, but it didn't come back this time. Finally, he said something to break the heavy silence.
"I would like it if you were always like that."
Margaery frowned. "What do you mean?"
Tyrion freed his hand from hers. "I'm not an idiot. I can see it when someone is playing with me, and I know you play with me."
Margaery's expression was confused for a time, but then her lips formed a thin line and she looked on the ground for a moment before she brought her eyes up to meet his again. "Not always. When I laugh with you, I'm not acting. I really find you funny, and you really make me laugh. That's no act of me."
"Maybe, but I know there are times when you pull on a smile or a shining face that it is not spontaneous, or sincere."
Margaery joined her hands on her knees. "I have to do it, Tyrion. This is what is expected from a woman. To smile, to dance, to sing, and to stand by her husband's side. And also to give him children. There are moments when I must hide my feelings and show other ones."
"I'm your husband. You can take off your feigned emotions."
"Do you want me to take off my clothes as well?"
The question surprised Tyrion. She had said it on a mocking tone. "Not yet. First, I would like to make something clear. If we are to be married, I want us to be honest with each other. To trust each other."
"As you wish, Tyrion."
"So, there is something I must know before we do our duty. Why did you accept to marry me? I gave you the choice to not marry the Imp, and yet you wrote to me that it would be your pleasure to marry him. Why?"
Margaery looked away, then stood up and walked on her right before she turned to face him again. "Tyrion, I almost knew nothing about you when my parents started to discuss our marriage. All I had heard were rumors."
"I suppose these rumors weren't very good."
"No." She laughed almost inaudibly. "But then I received your letter, and… I didn't know what to think of it, but I knew rumors could be really unfair. There are rumors about Willas after all, and they are almost all false. So I thought there might be some untruth in the rumors about you as well, and with your letter I though it was certainly the case. The thing is, I don't really care about the fact you are a dwarf." She had to be one of the very few women in the Seven Kingdoms to not care about her future husband being a dwarf. "What I was worried about were the other rumors that depicted you like a monster. I didn't really believe in them. You seemed to be a good man, and when I arrived, that was just confirmed. I told you that I'm over the judgments on people because they are cripples or ugly or small. I don't care about it. You are intelligent, funny, kind, we are both highborn and both our families see great opportunities in our alliance. I see no reason to refuse, and when I answered to you I saw no reason either."
"That's all?" asked Tyrion.
"Not entirely." She smiled laughingly. "I heard that you are quite experienced."
Tyrion scoffed while laughing too. "I'm afraid I am. The rumors about it are probably true."
"Is it true that you used to visit three brothels each night?" She seemed more curious than disgusted.
"I'm afraid I don't remember enough of these nights to give the right answer."
They both laughed. He liked her laugh. She took back a half-serious expression, with a smile that seemed sincerer this time. "I will be honest, Tyrion. I do not love you. I will not pretend that I do. But I like you. I like you very much. I loved the time we spent together these last days, and I hope we'll have more in the future. I will not allow Loras to put an end to our marriage, in one way or another. I want to be your wife. I'm not lying."
Oddly, Tyrion didn't think she was. She wasn't trying to seduce him right now, so he believed her words were true. He knew for sure she didn't love him now, but Tyrion had never thought that as a real possibility. He preferred it if she told him, and if she said she was ready to marry him and liked her time with him… Well, there had been worse marriages.
He looked at her again. Beautiful, young, highborn, bringing the second most powerful family of Westeros at his side, willing to marry him, clever. What more could he ask? Love? There would never be a woman who would love him. Margaery would never love him. However, she didn't hate him, and he didn't hate her either. They could live happily together. She was smiling at him, again. Tyrion smiled as well.
"So, what do we do now? Isn't it supposed to be our wedding night?" she asked.
"It is. Though… You know, we're not forced to do it tonight. I can wait, if you don't feel ready."
She looked surprised, but then she laughed. "I thank you, Tyrion. This is very kind, but it's useless. We are husband and wife. That's what we must do."
"I will never force myself upon you. What I wrote to you, I meant it."
"I know. And I mean it when I say I want to do it."
She had a wicked smile again. Without warning, she discarded her gown at the level of her shoulder and brought it down to her feet. She was standing naked right before him now. Tyrion had tried to imagine how she looked like without her clothing before, but here his imagination had been unable to equal the reality. He remained there, agape, unable to speak, looking at his wife who wore nothing.
"Have you nothing to say?" she asked.
Tyrion tried to recover his mind, but it was hard to focus on something else than Margaery's nakedness. "I'm sorry. You must be the first person to make me speechless."
A little laugh escaped from her mouth as she walked towards him. She leaned over him and kissed him on the mouth. Tyrion returned it immediately. She was passionate, and he was too. It had been too long since he had a woman. He wanted her. She may not love him, but she wanted to do it, just like he wanted.
She began to unbutton his doublet, but there Tyrion stopped her like she stopped him in the carriage. "You undressed on your own. I'll undress on my own," he said, breathless. Her own breath was sending hot winds on his face.
She was giggling. "As you wish. I'll be waiting for you in our bed."
She straightened up and Tyrion watched her walk to the bed and lie down on it. He finally managed to get his eyes away from her, left his chair and turned his back to her. Then he began to undress. He was hard, and getting harder. Even while not looking her, all he could see and think about was Margaery Tyrell. He finally managed to end naked him too. With hesitation, he turned around and walked to join her. She had undone her headdress, so her hair was all falling on her shoulder and her back as she laid on her stomach, waiting for him. Her head was at one border of the bed. She looked at him with a smile. She was good at faking. He arrived before her. Because of his small size, his head and hers were about the same level.
"I'm sorry. I know I'm not a pretty sight," he told her, ashamed. She was a real beauty, and he was an ugly dwarf. Only, she kept smiling at him, not looking repulsed in any way. She even seemed to have pity. She kissed him again, but their kiss was faltered by her words.
"I know very handsome men. In Highgarden, many girls are dreaming about them. But most are idiots. Or they would deceive me, once in bed. Not you. Won't you?"
No, he wouldn't. If they were to share the same bed, then they would enjoy it, both of them. Tyrion climbed into the bed, still kissing his wife, and proceeded to consummate the marriage. He made sure she liked it. For the first time in three months, he spent a night with a woman, and he loved it.
For those who expected a lemon here, sorry but you won't find any in this fic if that's what you're looking for.
The next chapters will be mostly the life of Margaery and Tyrion in the next two years, before the beginning of Season 1 and the death of Jon Arryn. We will see their relationship and their marriage progress through these chapters, and the effects this will have on the political balance of Westeros, so expect almost only chapters from Tyrion's or Margaery's perspectives for some time.
Tyrion is capable of seeing through some of Margaery's game, but he has conflicted and mixed feelings about her all the same. Margaery's behaviour is quite unsettling for him. Tyrion is someone who wants to be loved, and he wants Margaery to love him. However, he feels guilty for Alla, and his wedding brings back old memories of his previous marriage. He has a lot going on through his head, and it's not easy for him to deal with all of it. Hence the various feelings and states he goes through all over the chapter.
The songs in this chapter, in order of appearance. They can be found on Youtube:
-False Love by Karliene Reynolds
- Nord Mead by Miracle of Sound (I changed a word or two from the original song)
-Never-Ending Road by Loreena McKennitt
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Next chapter: Margaery
