I consider this chapter to be the first I upload in this Year 2017. For some people, it was the previous chapter that was the first one of the year, but on my side of the Atlantic, it was uploaded before midnight. I believe this chapter makes for a particularly good opening for 2017, while the previous one ended 2016 pretty well. Tyrion's last chapter wasn't well made to end a year.

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. It marks a very important moment in the story. I leave you to discover what this is.


MARGAERY VIII

Margaery Lannister of House Tyrell, Lady of Casterly Rock and Lady of the Westerlands.

She put down her signature at the end of the letter. It was the last one, and it was intended for Lady Elyana Sarwyck, daughter of Raynald Sarwyck, Lord of Riverspring. Margaery had spent most of the afternoon writing to all the ladies in the Westerlands, in prevision of their journey across the kingdom.

She and Tyrion had decided they should make their presence known through all the Westerlands, and the best way for that was to make a tour of it. They would visit every noble family in the Westerlands during the next months. For Margaery, this would be an opportunity to get closer to the people all over the Westerlands, and to create links with the other noble families. Everyone would know who was the new Lady of the Westerlands this way. They wouldn't know her if she remained inside Casterly Rock and didn't go farther than Lannisport.

That would also be an opportunity for Tyrion to solve a few problems with lords, including Lord Lefford, who still failed to pay some taxes. Of course, Tyrion also wanted to show her the Westerlands in more detail. He had almost made her visit all Casterly Rock. Almost. There were still certain places she had not yet seen. She would wait for their return to see them. In the meantime, she would get to know the Westerlands better.

Margaery handed the letter to Mira who folded it, wrote the address, and put the sigil of House Lannister in red wax on it. The letter for Lady Sarwyck was added to the pile at the right corner of her desk. They mostly said the same things, with a few variants. Margaery wrote to all of them that she would be very happy to meet them in person in their home, and that she hoped she and her lord husband would prove to be admirable guests to them. She also said she was eager to know them better. It was a tiresome task to write approximately the same words dozens of time, but this was necessary. Margaery thought it would be more pleasant to meet these ladies than to write to them.

"Mira, go to the stables with these. Tell the riders to bring them to the addresses written on them," Margaery told her friend.

"Yes, my lady."

Mira took the letters while Margaery leaned in her chair, relieved this task was over. They would leave tomorrow, and the end of the afternoon was already approaching. She wanted to have some time for herself before they left next morning. She noticed Mira wasn't leaving. She had made half the way towards the door, but didn't seem about to complete the other half.

"Is there something wrong, Mira?"

Her handmaiden slowly turned to face her. "My lady, if I may, what do you intend to do about Sera?"

Margaery had almost forgotten about it. She sighed. "Fetch her. I need to talk with her."

Mira curtsied and left. That wasn't a discussion Margaery was looking forward to, but it had to be done. She hated to do these things, but she wasn't about to let someone ruin all the efforts she invested during the past few months.

She waited for Sera to come and looked around her. She was given this solar early after her wedding. It was the one used by the Ladies of Casterly Rock for the last two hundred years. It had been a little dusty the first time she came into it. It remained unoccupied for over twenty years after all. Now, with the changes Margaery brought to the room, it was a perfect place to work for the Lady of the Westerlands. She had the banner of House Tyrell hung to the wall, several vases containing flowers on the tables all around, along with many jewels she brought with her from Highgarden, and many more that were given to her by Tyrion. There were also about four smaller desks around the bigger one that belonged to her, used by scribes. Most of the time, Margaery's scribes were her handmaidens, or even her cousins. The scribe's desks were made of wood, though even if it was the most expensive wood to grow in Westeros, they were nothing when compared to the desk half made of gold she had for her personal use. After six months, the luxury she was surrounded by no longer troubled her in any way, and she began to feel it was normal to be surrounded so much by gold, silver, precious stones and other riches.

One of the jewels that was displayed was the one she had the day she married Tyrion. It had the form of a rose, a ruby on one side, a sapphire on the other one. Margaery walked to the table where it was and took the double pendant in her hand. It had belonged to Tyrion's mother, when she was still alive. Genna told her that this one was made especially for the Lady Joanna on her husband's order. Margaery had a hard time imagining Lord Tywin Lannister offering such a gift to his wife when she thought about the ordeal he submitted his son to, but if Tyrion's father had deeply and sincerely loved his wife, perhaps it could explain why he hated his son so much for his wife's death.

Six months. Six months since she was married to Tyrion, and about a year since she read the letter in which he offered her to stop all discussions of marriage if she wanted. How much had happened since. Margaery was glad she answered that she wanted to marry him. If she was asked the same question today, she would give the same answer, though this time the answer would be more sincere. She loved her new life with Tyrion, and she wouldn't let Sera ruin it.

With care, she put the pendant back on the table and returned behind her desk. She looked through the window. She could see Lannisport from there. The construction of the hospice she had planned recently would begin while she would be touring the Westerlands. She wouldn't be present for the beginning of the works.

There was a knock on the door. "Lady Sera Durwell," announced one of her guards.

"Let her in," she replied loudly.

Margaery kept looking outside as she heard the door opening, then closing. She turned around to look at her friend. Sera had her eyes cast down as she stood in the center of the solar. At least, she regretted what she did, but she did it all the same. Margaery couldn't close her eyes on this. She looked around to make sure no one was there to hear them and that the door was well closed before she spoke.

"I suppose you know why I summoned you."

"Yes, my lady," Sera replied.

"Good. Sit." Sera complied and sat. Margaery didn't. She stood still. "How do you think I feel?"

"Angry?"

"No. Disappointed, yes. Maybe annoyed, but not angry. I thought you would know better, Sera. What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing happened, my lady."

"But something would have happened, if Mira hadn't walked in. You're lucky she did, and that it was her who did it, and not someone else, or the rumor would be spreading through the castle as we speak. What were you thinking about? Laying with Lucion Lannister in a larder?"

"We thought no one would find us there."

"Well, you were wrong." Margaery paused. "Sera, do you realize how important it is for many men that their wife is a virgin when they marry? Your marriage prospects are already limited. What do you think they will be if you lose your maidenhead, or if you're found with a young man? If rumours began to spread that you are not virtuous?"

"But I'm not the only one to do that, my lady" Sera complained. "Almost everyone in Highgarden does it. You yourself…"

Margaery put a stop to her justifications. "We won't talk about these things. Not here. We are no longer in Highgarden, Sera. This is Casterly Rock. Things are different here. Especially for you. And there's a difference between having a go beneath the sheets with a squire from a minor house or a stable boy, and laying with a cousin of the Warden of the West."

A long silence followed before Sera replied. "He… He said he wanted to marry me."

"Did he talk about it to his father?"

"No. No, he said he would, but he didn't. Not yet."

Margaery sighed, both in exasperation and in relief. "Look, Sera. Ser Damion Lannister holds an important position at Casterly Rock. He is a cousin of Lord Tyrion, and plays an important role in the administration of the Rock. Lucion is his only son. Did you really expect him to marry his son to you? He is a Lannister. He wouldn't marry his only son and heir to a girl from a minor house of the Reach, even less from a house that's been extinct for two hundred years."

"But I thought that if you talked…"

"Ser Damion will not listen to me. He would probably feel insulted if I was to propose him a marriage between you and Lucion."

"But if you convinced Lord Tyrion to speak to him…"

"I will not convince Tyrion on this matter. He would listen to me, but he wouldn't approve. He wouldn't accept to force his cousin to marry his son to someone who's not highborn enough. I do not control Tyrion, Sera. I have his ear, he listens to me, but he doesn't do everything I tell him. I don't control him." And I don't want to control him. "You must see the truth in your situation, Sera. You cannot marry Lucion. I may be able to arrange a marriage for you one day, but not this one, and don't expect me to arrange you a marriage if you behave in this way, or even to keep you at my service."

Sera panicked. "No, please, my lady. Don't send me back to Highgarden."

"I may have to. Do you realize how hard it's been for me to gain the trust of my husband? How difficult it was to establish a good relationship with him? That sort of things could ruin everything I've done in the last months to gain the power and the influence I have now. My position is fragile, and so is the alliance between my family and the Lannisters. I cannot allow a scandal to threaten it."

Sera was close to tears. Margaery felt bad and evil for talking so rudely to her friend, but she had no choice. She had done too much to gain the respect and some trust from the Lannisters, not to mention her relationship with Tyrion. An affair between her handmaiden and a cousin of her husband could destroy all of it, or at least a part of it. She couldn't allow it.

"When do I leave?" Sera asked.

"Tomorrow on the morning. I want you to go to my rooms now, and to prepare everything for the journey. You will leave Casterly Rock with us."

Sera was stunned and looked utterly surprised. "You mean… You're not sending me back to Highgarden?"

Margaery smiled sadly. "Not yet. We can all make mistakes. Aside from me, you, Mira and Lucion, no one knows about this. I made sure that Lucion would never talk about it, and Mira will never let a word escape about the whole thing. You're lucky. But I don't want this to happen again. Next time, you may not have the same chance, and it may not be Mira who will find you. If this happens again, I'll send you back to Highgarden. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lady. I promise. It won't happen again." Sera seemed quite relieved.

"Do you swear that nothing happened?"

"I swear it, my lady. Nothing happened."

"Well, in this case, go on. Carry on your duties."

She dismissed Sera with these words. The brown-haired girl left her chair and began to walk to the door, but Margaery stopped her in the way. "Sera, consider this too. You were born out of the bounds of marriage, because your mother did something similar to what you were about to do yesterday. You know what it is to grow in this condition, and you've been lucky that my grandmother and I have wanted to take care of you. Do you really want to take the risk of giving this life, maybe a worse one, to a child?"

Sera turned, uncertainty, then shame on her face. She shook her head. "No, my lady."

"Remember this the next time you want to hide somewhere with a boy."

Sera nodded and left. It was done. Margaery hoped she didn't make a mistake. Sera was far less careful and took things much less seriously than Mira. She could cause problems, but Margaery didn't want to send her away. Sera deserved a chance. However, if she could pose a real threat to Margaery's position, then she would have no choice but to expel Sera from her service. That wasn't a prospect she cherished.

Margaery sat down and put a hand on her forehead. Someone entered, but Margaery didn't look up immediately. When she did, Mira was there.

"Excuse me, my lady. If you want to rest, I can come back later," Mira started.

"No." Margaery straightened in her seat. "I suppose you want to know about Sera."

"Well, she told me she would stay for the time being."

"Yes, but I would like you to keep an eye on her. Try to stop her from doing any other folly. With some hope, this accident will all be forgotten when we will come back in a few months, and both Ser Lucion and Sera will not think about it again. Did you send the letters?"

"Yes, my lady. The riders have already left. But there's been a letter that arrived for you from the harbor. The captain of the ship asked me to deliver it to you." Mira handed her the letter in question. "It seems to come from Lady Rhea Florent."

"Lord Leyton's fourth wife. Well, let's see what this is about."

Margaery looked at the seal of House Hightower. When she thought about it, she believed she should take a personal seal instead of the seal of House Lannister. Perhaps have a seal made that represented a lion and a flower together, to put in evidence the alliance between her family and Tyrion's. At least, she should seal her letters with green wax if she kept the seal of House Lannister. She broke the seal, unrolled the letter, and began to read it in silence.

To Margaery Lannister of House Tyrell, Lady of Casterly Rock and Lady of the Westerlands,

May the Gods bless you and Lord Tyrion, great Lord of Casterly Rock and great Lord of the Westerlands. I want to thank you for your generous offer concerning the orphanage I'm about to build in Oldtown. Many orphanages in our city are about to collapse, and your financial help to build new ones will allow hundreds if not thousands of parentless children to have a roof. You don't know how grateful I am for your support. I've met your mother once, and I can see without meeting you in person that you take much after her. I promise you that I will be in your debt forever, and I hope you come to see the works for yourself when they're done.

Happiness and health to both you and your lord husband,

Rhea Florent, Lady of the Hightower

A smile crossed Margaery's face, and an inaudible laugh escaped her throat. Things were going as planned. She had an ally inside the Hightower now. Lord Paxter Redwyne was ready to agree, her own family already agreed, and with the support of all families in the Westerlands who had a harbor, along with the help of Lord Leyton's wife and her mother's assistance, it wouldn't be long before the Voice of Oldtown agreed. Soon, Tyrion's plan would be executed: a common low-tariff zone between the Westerlands and the Reach. Tyrion was already calling it the South-Western Free Trade Agreement, though it may still be early to give it a name. It was still far from signed.

"Good news, my lady?" Mira asked.

"Yes, indeed."

Margaery was smiling. This future agreement was one of the bases on which she hoped to build a strong alliance between her family and House Lannister, and to strengthen her marriage with Tyrion as well. She had written many letters and sent more ravens than one could imagine to get her parents and her grandmother to help her in this, and she could see the pieces taking their places. The only way forward for her family was to reinforce their union with the Lannisters, and for that Margaery had to be her husband's ally. That's what she and Tyrion were. Allies. Well, they were more than allies, but allies all the same.

"I'll go visit the maze. Would you accompany me?" Margaery asked to her handmaiden.

"Yes, my lady."

Margaery was wearing a red gown in the Reach fashion today, so Mira wrapped her shoulders with a green shawl before they left. They walked away together from her solar and travelled through the halls and corridors of the Rock. Six months that Margaery spent here, and despite her wish to see Highgarden again, Casterly Rock already felt like home. People bowed on her passage, servants, guards and knights all alike. She and Mira were going to the maze Margaery was having prepared on the northern hill. In normal times, Margaery would have brought all her cousins along with her handmaidens and the young ladies of Casterly Rock so they could enjoy the end of the afternoon together, but today she wanted some solitude. Hence the reason she headed there alone with Mira.

They reached the Lion's Bridge. Margaery remembered this was the place where she had her first conversation with Tyrion. They had laughed together, spoken about the history of the Rock and the bridge linking its two separate hills, talked about Willas and her grandmother, and she had played the perfect lady happy to be with her betrothed. She had done so for most of their marriage, but now she tried not to anymore. Ever since this day last month when she learned the truth about Tysha, Margaery tried to not act like she did before. She knew Tyrion didn't like it, and she thought she knew better why now. There were times when she would do it instinctively, but right when it happened Tyrion's face would darken and she would remember she wasn't to act with him anymore. All the same, things were much better between them, or so she thought. At least, everything concerning her personal impression of Tyrion was far better than before. She now wished she had been entirely honest with him from the beginning, ever since this first time on the bridge, but how would she know she could trust him at the time? Now she knew, and she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice.

She turned to Mira as they were no farther than half the bridge. "I heard you received a letter from Willas," Margaery said with a wicked smile.

Mira was obviously taken aback, though she maintained her composure quite well. "I received it two weeks ago, my lady."

Some pale red appeared on her handmaiden's cheeks. "What did it say?" Margaery asked. She liked to tease Mira. Sera did like it too, though Mira always remained impassive. This time, however, she did not.

"Well… I… He asked if… He asked if I could come back to Highgarden."

"He did?"

"He wanted me to ask you this favor."

Margaery thought fondly of her cousin's request. He had written to her last month as well, asking the same thing concerning Mira. Margaery had declined. Mira was her handmaiden, and she didn't want her to leave her service. Now it seemed her cousin was trying again, though this time he wanted Mira to ask Margaery for her leave.

"So?" wondered Margaery aloud.

"Well, I don't wish to leave, my lady, but I haven't replied to Willas yet. I'm afraid it could hurt him."

Margaery looked carefully at her friend. "Mira, do you love Willas? Honestly?"

The Northerner took her time to answer. "I'm sure he would make a good husband, my lady, and I'm quite fond of him, truth be told, but I don't want to marry. Not yet. And I'm afraid I wouldn't be a suitable wife for him."

Margaery knew Mira was right, but on the other side, Willas wasn't about to marry a suitable wife anytime soon. Furthermore, it was obvious that he was in love with Mira, though he would never admit it. He was far too shy for that. Maybe Mira was his best chance.

"You don't have to marry immediately, Mira. Betrothals have their reasons to exist." Margaery was implying that they could marry later.

"But, my lady, I come from a minor house…"

"Mira, it doesn't matter." She interrupted her friend, something she seldom did. "Willas will probably never find a suitable wife. He's lame, and he doesn't have much to inherit. He has no lands, no holdings, only a position at Highgarden that any Lord of Highgarden could take away from him anytime. We can't be sure he will ever marry. He loves you, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Your family may not agree, my lady," Mira replied after a moment.

"I can convince my uncle Garth, and my parents and my grandmother as well. We can even keep the betrothal secret. Don't come and tell me your family would disapprove if you married a Tyrell."

"No, I don't think so. Still… It doesn't seem right to me."

"Do you love Willas?" Margaery asked her again.

Mira took a lot of time to answer. "I would come to love him, if we were married, my lady. I'm quite sure of that. But as I said, I don't want to marry yet, and I don't believe it would be in House Tyrell's interest to make official a betrothal between one of their own and some northern girl."

Margaery stopped and looked at her handmaiden. Mira was quite beautiful, and she would have made a perfect bride for Willas if she was more highborn. Still, since Willas didn't get any chance of marriage from a great family, Mira was far from a bad match. They did get along very well, and Willas would be very happy with her. Mira also loved Highgarden, and she did like Willas very much. She would be happy with him as well, but Mira's sense of duty and honor made her hesitate.

"Willas is very fond of you, Mira. Just keep that in mind the next time you see him, for he will certainly not be married then," Margaery declared. Then she added with a smile. "In the meantime, I don't intend to let you leave my service."

Mira took some time to react to the last remark, but then she smiled lightly and everything was forgotten. They resumed their walk. Margaery gave her instructions to make sure everything would be ready on the morning for their departure. They arrived at the maze, or what would be a maze one day. The hedgerows had all been planted, but they would need a few years to grow enough for this to be called an actual maze. In normal times, gardeners would be working to maintain the growing hedges, but Margaery had ordered that no one would be there today. The future maze would be hers, and hers alone for this day. She dismissed Mira and walked into it. The hedgerows only reached her hips for now, but she liked to wander in this growing labyrinth all the same. It reminded her of Highgarden, and it made her love Casterly Rock even more. She felt at home, thanks to Tyrion. Without him, Genna and Ser Kevan would have had their way and this garden would never have come out.

She saw a fountain that was under construction. There were five fountains already before the maze was begun, and Margaery would have five more added. This was one of the new ones. When it would be over, it would represent Garth Greenhand, the mythical High King of the Reach. She kept walking forward until she found an open spot with a table, a few deck chairs and a fountain where lotus flowers floated. The sun was on his declining course, though still quite high in the sky. It wasn't burning, nor was it cold. She sat on one of the chairs and looked at the shining waters of the fountain. Everything was calm here.

Margaery closed her eyes and sprawled in the chair, her face turned to the sky. She listened to the soothing sound of the weak wind and the quiet chirping of birds. If she listened well, she thought she heard the faint noise of waves crashing against the base of Casterly Rock, far away. She felt the sun and the wind caressing her face and every part of her body that wasn't covered. After a time, she removed her shawl and let it drop on the grass, allowing her shoulders the same pleasure that her arms and a part of her legs enjoyed. She breathed deeply and slowly, soothing her nerves, feeling the duties and cares she had leave her mind and her body. She felt free of all worry, and she liked it.

She remained in that position for a long time, her eyes closed, unmoving, the extremities of her fingers brushing the grass under her, until a soft voice came a few feet from her right. "You're quite a sight for sore eyes."

Her husband's voice brought a smile to her lips. She wondered for how long he had stood there in silence. She hoped it had been a very long time. For the last month, Tyrion had showed more restraint in their relationship. Margaery missed the long gazes he would give to her in the first months of their marriage, and she regretted she had to reach for him more often now, instead of letting him reach for her. Tyrion initiated things between them much less since he revealed the truth of his first marriage, and she wished he was like before. But if he had stayed there, watching her… A warm feeling grew in her belly.

"I hope I am. A rose who's not a pretty sight isn't a rose," she said, her eyes still shut.

Tyrion laughed shortly with her. "You're more than a pretty sight. You're a vision."

"I thought I gave orders to the guards to let no one get in there."

"Do you really think you can order my men to keep me away from you?" he asked playfully.

His voice was closer now. She heard something crack. Tyrion had sat in a chair next to her. She felt his hand seizing her own laying on the arm of the chair. She intertwined her fingers with his and began to rub the back of his own hand with her thumb. Tyrion did a similar movement, though his other hand joined in taking hold of her own. He played with the ring of diamond she had at her middle finger. She heard one day that there was a vein that started from this finger and went right to the heart, hence the reason the marriage ring was passed onto this particular place. She had never really cared about this kind of details. For her, it was more superstition than anything else, only good for childhood romance, when you were not aware of the real world, but here she had the impression to actually feel a strange energy travelling from her hand to her heart, speeding up its pulse. She liked it. That was something entirely new to her, and she liked it.

"Six months since I gave you this ring," Tyrion said, probably more to himself than to her.

"Six wonderful months," Margaery specified.

"Were they? For you?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "They were."

She smiled at him, sincerely, without any backthought. Tyrion looked happier than she ever saw him, and that made the warm feeling in her belly grow bigger. They just stood there, she laying on her back, he sitting at her side, holding hands, looking at each other.

"Have I made you happy?" she asked him.

"You have. More than you believe. More than I ever believed someone could make me happy."

The warm feeling grew again and started to spread. He kept looking at her, but his eyes began to wander all over her body. There was an opening in the skirt that displayed one of her legs, and of course Tyrion's eyes went to it, but also to her arms and shoulders, uncovered, before they waited a long time on her neckline. Margaery closed her eyes again.

"I had it made last week," she told him. "Do you like it?"

"Very much."

It was the first time Margaery had ordered a gown made in the style of the Reach with the colors of House Lannister. For sure it attracted her husband's attention. His hand that wasn't intertwined with hers began to wander on her arm, caressing it slowly, brushing her skin. At the same time, she felt his eyes scanning every part of her. Her breathing quickened. Soon his hand was wandering all over her body, from her cheek to her ankle. The warm feeling kept growing, spreading all over her body and not limited anymore to her chest. She was more aware than ever of every sensation, of the sun, the wind, her husband's fingers and his eyes caressing her skin, of the fabric of her clothes against her flesh. She could hear Tyrion's quick breath as well.

Then she felt him moving, and before she could think about moving or opening her eyes, all her instincts being slowed down in that very moment, Tyrion's lips were on hers. They were sweet, and tasted of wine, like they always did. She liked that taste on his lips. It had become very familiar to her, but she felt it even more right now. They released each other's hand. Tyrion's was now using both his hands to caress her body. Not that it bothered her very much. She was doing the same with him. Her hands passed on his face, through his hair, on his chest, then in lower places. Heat was spreading all over her, almost with violence, threatening to explode. Their kiss went from sweet at the beginning to passionate, and very soon, she was removing his doublet and he was removing the upper part of her gown.

They were in the Golden Tower. She lied on her tummy, trying to catch her breath. People may believe that after you had to catch it so often in the last hours, you were getting better at it, but you were not. You were only getting used to it, not better at doing it. She kept her eyes shut. The linen under her felt good on her skin, though not as good as her husband's touch. The same thing could be said about her hair falling on her back. She lazily opened her eyes and looked at the stars outside. They looked brighter than she ever saw them before. The moon wasn't even at its quarter. Slowly, she turned on her back and looked in the other direction.

Tyrion was still recovering his breath, just like her. He was also sweating, and she was too. They hadn't left each other since the end of the afternoon, when he joined her in the garden. The first time they did it had been an explosion of pleasure she had never experienced, except maybe for their wedding night, though right now she couldn't dare to compare it to anything. She had screamed so loud that Tyrion wondered if the people of Lannisport had heard their lady. They had both laughed uncontrollably to his jape. Then they had done it a second time before they put their clothes on again… only to walk quickly to the Golden Tower, the very place where they spent their wedding night and their first week of marriage, where they resumed their conjugal activities. Margaery couldn't remember with precision how many times they did it, but it was a lot of times, and they did it in all the ways someone could imagine or not. Now here they were, together, after what could be the hundredth time as far as she knew. They were both resolved enough for that to be possible.

Tyrion opened his eyes. He seemed to have a harder time to recover than her this time. A little pride made its way into Margaery's mind. He smiled at her and she returned it, sincerely again. They had nothing to hide from each other.

"I wonder how much time I will last," Tyrion said jokingly.

Margaery laughed, sat in the bed, then moved to be on top of him. "All the night I hope. I still have great plans for us." She leaned and kissed him. Tyrion still had some hard time to breath, and their kiss didn't help him. She released him from this torture, though this may only be a way to submit him to another one. The way his hands rubbed her hips were proof that he wasn't worn out yet, and Margaery wasn't either. After the short respite that she allowed him, she resumed the torture and kissed him again with her full mouth. Tyrion grunted and moaned in her mouth, which meant he liked it.

"Maybe… we'll be so tired… tomorrow… on the morning… that we cannot leave… We could stay in bed… for the day… and leave next day," she suggested while her tongue danced with his.

"I don't think… we can," he replied.

"Don't you want it?" she asked seductively the time of a breath.

"I want it… but I can't do it."

She knew he was right. They had planned this journey long ago, and everything was ready for departure on the morrow. Still, she punished him. She broke their embrace and kept her upper body straight tall before him, pushing his hands away from her hips. He tried to bring them back, only to find them slap, Margaery smiling wickedly at the same time. Tyrion knew what this meant. He wasn't allowed to touch her as long as she didn't allow it. That was the worst punishment he could receive. Be forced to look at his wife, all naked, without the possibility to touch her body with anything else than his eyes. That was the best way, and the most amusing one as well, to torture him. When she thought he had enough of it, after a few minutes, she kissed him again, granting him the right to lay hands on her, which he did immediately in a very soft way.

She interrupted their kiss for a moment, and he used it to speak. "I love you, Margaery. I never thought I could love someone so much… my lovely wife."

Their eyes were locked together. Margaery knew that Tyrion loved her. He had loved her for sure ever since their first month of marriage, probably since their first week, and maybe from the first day of their union, ever since they said the words. I am his and he is mine, she said back then. I am hers and she is mine, he had said. From this day until the end on my days, they had repeated together. Margaery thought about the words that were said on this day as she looked deeply into Tyrion's eyes. Back then, they had only been a formality for her. That was only a ceremony that cemented the alliance between her family and Tyrion's, and nothing more. She wasn't really giving herself to Tyrion at this time, not from her opinion. But now…

Let it be known that Margaery of House Tyrell and Tyrion of House Lannister are one flesh, one soul, one heart. She thought of these last words. One flesh, one soul, one heart. One flesh. She and Tyrion had been one flesh from the very beginning. That was the one thing in their life together that never posed a problem. Tyrion had proved to be quite experienced, maybe even more than Margaery expected, and after a week of marriage, she doubted she would ever want to lie down with another man. Only for their lovemaking at night… and at day… there were times she thought that it was enough a good reason alone to justify her marriage. The fact he didn't lay with another woman all this time made this link much stronger between them.

They hadn't been one soul however at that time, far from it. Margaery was thinking about using this marriage to strengthen her family's position, and to use her influence on Tyrion to that end. She wasn't exactly working against him, at least she hoped so, though now that she thought about it, she felt a little ashamed by the fact she tried to manipulate her husband. That wasn't something she would have been ashamed before, but now she was, even if it was only a little. She had thought she could manipulate Tyrion and make him do whatever she wanted when the time would come, but she had been deceived in that hope. Tyrion was intelligent, very cunning, and quite clever. His reputation may have people believe he would be manipulated easily by any pair of breasts he would see, but that wasn't the case. He had seen through her, just like the way he saw her fully at night.

So, Margaery had changed her ways with her husband. She couldn't control him. She decided to work with him, to make of him an ally. She had seen it during these last months. Tyrion was always faithful and loyal to those who were faithful and loyal to him. If she was, he would be like this with her as well. Through this change of behaviour, she and Tyrion had become allies, and friends as well. Margaery had liked it. When you knew Tyrion, he was someone very good to spend time with, and you came to respect, value, and even admire him. Hence, they had become one soul, working together to the same ends, on the trade agreement for example.

As for being one heart… Margaery remembered how miserable Tyrion had been when he told her about Tysha. She still couldn't understand Lord Tywin's actions. No girl, no matter she was a whore, deserved to be mistreated that way, and no man deserved to see his own wife raped by other men under his own eyes. As for the other thing that his father forced him to do… With the explanations Genna and Tyrion gave, Margaery understood now why Tyrion visited brothels and drank so often, and also why he was suspicious of her. Not that he had been entirely wrong about it. She had tried to manipulate him. She would never attempt to manipulate him again. Never. She wanted him to be happy with her, and she wanted to be happy with him. She had been fond of him even before the revelation, and she had become fonder of him afterwards. She cared about him more than ever. Sometimes she felt she cared about him more than she cared about her mother, her father, and her brother. She wanted to be his wife. She wanted to be his real wife. One flesh, one soul… one heart. One heart.

"You said something this afternoon, when we fucked the first time," Tyrion said all of a sudden. His face was serious despite the choice of words. "Did you mean it?"

Margaery remembered very well what she said at this moment. In fact, she screamed it more than she said it. It was the first time she said these words to him. She kept looking into his green eyes. Wonderful green eyes. They were only a few inches from each other's face. Their noses were almost touching.

"I meant it," she said softly, then she repeated the three small words she screamed this afternoon, though this time with a sweetness that was truer than any sweetness she ever displayed in her life. "I love you."

Then she kissed him, tenderly, slowly, and he returned her kiss in the same way, a huge smile forming on his lips. A smile that her own lips copied. She heard the voice of the septon. One flesh, one soul, one heart, now and forever. Now and forever.


This chapter is in some way the equivalent of chapter 73 in "A Shadow and a Wolf", though far shorter. It took four times less many chapters and a chapter three times shorter to mostly arrive at the same result. However, if it was to write again, I may include a song or two.

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Next chapter: Tyrion