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I hadn't realized it had been ten chapters since the last time I wrote a chapter from Margaery's perspective. Well, here is a new one. I hope you like it.


MARGAERY XXI

The wooden swords clashed, again, again and again. One Tommen was laughing as they battled, the other one more serious and stern, though Margaery discerned the smile that appeared on his face from time to time.

It was a strange occurrence that Tommen Lydden, son and heir to Lewys Lydden, Lord of the Deep Den, bore the same name than the king. Margaery had met Lord Lydden four times in the past. The first time at her wedding, the second during her tour with Tyrion of the Westerlands, and the third and fourth on their way back and forth from King's Landing for the tourney celebrating Joffrey's name day. Margaery's opinion of him was that he was courteous and well-mannered, but also ambitious without any doubt. However, his ambition had bounds. House Lydden had been loyal to House Lannister for thousands of years, ever since their Andal ancestors settled in the Westerlands and Joffrey Lydden married into House Lannister, becoming King of the Rock under the name of Joffrey Lannister. House Lydden had always remained very close to Casterly Rock, their family multiplying marriages with all the branches of House Lannister to maintain their station. Unlike the Leffords, their wealth couldn't contend with the Lannisters'. They had mines of silver on their lands, but their time of peak was long gone. Their ties with House Lannister were their best guarantee of maintaining their position and wealth, and the Lannisters had been happy over the ages to preserve these links.

Deep Den occupied a strategic position. The Golden Tooth was the gate to enter the Westerlands from the Riverlands, Deep Den fulfilled the same function for the Crownlands. To protect its frontiers, any Lord of the Rock had to ensure the loyalty of both the Leffords and the Lyddens. Tyrion and Margaery had worked together in this sense from the beginning as well. As a result, the Westerlands were secured. No army could cross their frontiers from the east without meeting a great fortress with a powerful army guarding it. From the south, they were protected by their alliance with Margaery's family. Only the shores of the Sunset Sea were at risk, possibly vulnerable to Ironborn attacks, though they seemed occupied enough with the North and didn't bother the coast of the Westerlands and the Reach yet.

Tommen Baratheon charged Tommen Lydden, making the both of them tumble onto the ground. They both burst into laughs. They were of the same age, two children playing together, not totally aware of the war that was raging.

Her lips rolled up for an instant. She remembered how Loras used to be like them at the same age. Her mouth quivered at the memory, bringing both happiness and sadness to her heart. For a short time, all she could see were two boys playing together with wooden swords.

Then she reminded herself of who Tommen was: a bastard born of incest, the cause of her brother's death, and the cause of the actual war. And she walked away.

She wandered through the battlements and courtyards of the castle, her black dress whirling in the wind, until she reached the gardens, where she wandered as well. They needed two weeks to reach Deep Den. They had no news yet, but she was quite certain now that Stannis had taken King's Landing. She hoped he would crush Cersei and Jaime, and she didn't care if they suffered or endured the greatest pains in the world before they died. That was all they deserved.

Her thoughts wandered to Tyrion, like always. They avoided each other's company ever since they left King's Landing. Aside from when they needed to talk about the war, for Margaery's presence was essential due to the alliance between the Lannisters and the Tyrells. She had already written to her father. The night they learned of Joffrey's death. She was writing the message when he came to announce her the news.

Dear Father,

By now, you must have heard about it. Loras is dead. He was murdered in front of my eyes, in Renly Baratheon's camp. I call for your help. Joffrey Baratheon was assassinated, and Tommen is king now. We need the armies of the Reach more than ever. I need your help.

Margaery

It was short, and it didn't convey all that was going through her mind, but she didn't see what else she could say. Writing was a poor way to express grief. Poets and singers might say otherwise, but they wrote for entertainment and pleasure. Their writings were born from their imagination, unreal. Margaery didn't live in the fantasy world of writers and singers. She lived in the real world, where you could lose the people you loved and you cared about, where people died and where you had to expect a stab in your back at every turn. Right now, it was her heart that bled, stabbed twice by her brother and her husband.

She wished she could be with her parents right now, and with her grandmother so they could comfort each other. But she could not. She had to stay here for now, to avenge her brother.

She came upon a lone figure sitting on a bench when she turned a corner. The girl did not move. She didn't give any sign that she was aware of Margaery's presence. She would have expected to find Sansa in the godswood rather than the gardens. Then she remembered. Mira always went to the godswood at this time of the day. And ever since Sansa was smuggled away from King's Landing by force, she avoided Mira at all cost. Sansa resented Mira for the role she played in her kidnapping in King's Landing.

Carefully, Margaery sat next to the Stark girl. Sansa showed no more sign that she noticed her presence.

"We are only halfway from Casterly Rock now."

Sansa looked at her very quickly. Margaery had taken her by surprise. Sansa didn't display the same indifference or hostility towards Margaery than she did with Mira.

"Yes, my... Margaery." She still forgot from time to time to call Margaery only by her name and not by her title.

"I won't try to convince you that you'll be happy at Casterly Rock, Sansa. But you'll be safe, on that you have my word. And now that Joffrey is dead..."

"Shouldn't the war be over if he's dead?" The Stark girl's tone made it clear that she considered fighting useless.

"I wish it was that simple. Stannis is still out there, and he wants Tommen to be his king no more than he wanted Joffrey. And as long as your brother fights for him...ยป

"I'll be a prisoner," Sansa concluded.

"I could call you a guest or a ward, but they would only be gentler words to express the same reality. It would be like telling people that their beloved is gone to mean that he's dead." She said the latter on a mournful tone.

"I'm sorry for Ser Loras. He was a good knight."

"He was more than that."

A sword appeared through his face, and blood spurted from everywhere. Then the body fell on the floor, and she was on it, trying to bring back her brother, hoping against all odds that he was still alive. Blood covered her dress, her hands. Her brother's blood.

"I wanted you to marry him," she told Sansa, trying to chase the memory from her mind. "I was hoping I could convince him to defect from Renly and marry you, to put an end to this war between our families."

Sansa said nothing for a while. "I know. Lord Tyrion told me, while you were gone. I would have been happy to marry your brother."

Margaery smiled. "I would have cherished you as a sister, Sansa."

They remained silent for a long time. "What's going to happen to me now? I'm no longer betrothed."

"And you'll stay unbetrothed."

For now, at the very least. Depending on the situation, Sansa could be of higher value if they sent her back to her brother, or she could be of higher value if a marriage was arranged. The best option for now was to keep her unwed, while remaining aware of opportunities. If Robb Stark was ready to talk about peace, they could include a marriage for Sansa in the negotiations. For now, it was better to keep all doors opened.

"You could write to your family, if you want," Margaery told Sansa.

"I would rather not."

"You could tell them you are alive and well, and far from Joffrey. I think they would be relieved to learn that."

"Maybe I'll write to them," Sansa said after a moment. "Will they believe me?"

Margaery understood what she meant. Would Sansa's family think this could be a forgery, or a letter written under constraint, like after Edward Stark was imprisoned?

"In the very least, they would know that you're still alive."

"Will my letters be verified?"

Margaery sighed very discreetly. "Only to make sure you say nothing compromising about the war. You can tell you are far from King's Landing and in a safe place, but nothing more. Writing you are heading for Casterly Rock might give information on our troops' movements. You can tell your family that you're not authorized to say much because we're not allowing you. They'll understand. But you could reveal you're writing from Deep Den. Any maester will recognize the raven is coming from the castle anyway. Arya should be happy to receive news from you," Margaery added.

"I wish I was with her," Sansa whispered.

"I'm sorry," Margaery said. She was, but they couldn't let Sansa go, not as long as they were in war with the Starks.

"How did she manage to escape? How did she find our family back?"

Margaery didn't know if Sansa was asking the question to Margaery, or just asking aloud, but she decided to give an answer that held in only one word.

"Mira."

At that, the Stark girl looked at her, her eyes displaying surprise. "Mira?"

"Yes. We sent her to bring a peace offer to your brother. On her way, she fell upon your sister and she helped Arya to return to your family."

Margaery told her what happened on the Kingsroad and at Harrenhal, everything Mira told her during the last two weeks.

"She didn't tell me that. Why would she do that?" Sansa asked when Margaery was done. "She is serving..."

She didn't finish her sentence. But Margaery answered all the same. "Mira was a Forrester and a Northerner long before she was my handmaiden. She is very loyal to me, but her loyalty also goes to her homeland and her family. Who could blame her?"

"You didn't... punish her?"

"No." After Tyrion's revelations, she didn't have the heart to reject Mira. "Aside from banishing her from my personal tent for the week that followed, maybe," she tried to joke. "Anyway, it's done, and another Stark in King's Landing wouldn't have made much of a difference."

Mira was also very convincing when it came to explain her actions as part of the negotiations with Robb Stark, bringing back one of his sisters to improve his disposition towards the Lannisters and the Tyrells. Margaery knew this was not the only reason for her actions, but even Tyrion acknowledged it was a good idea, although it failed convincing Robb Stark to accept peace.

"You should forgive her, you know. For betraying you," Margaery suggested. "You might resent her for luring you into a trap, but she probably saved your life. I think you would be dead if we left you behind in King's Landing."

"Yes, I would be dead."

Again, Sansa was staring right in front of her, to nothing in particular. She had seen more horrors in the recent year than Margaery in her whole life before the war started. Her innocence was stolen.

Margaery thought of her parents, and she thought of Sansa's parents as well. Her lord father had focused on Loras ever since he was born. Margaery had been the responsibility of her lady mother. Her father had Loras focus on his training at arms, wanting the greatest knight in the Seven Kingdoms. Her mother focused on the womanly skills of Margaery. Just like most women in Highgarden, Margaery was taught the intrigues of politics as much as she was taught dancing and singing. Her mother also taught her how to run a castle. For the politics, however, it was her grandmother who did most of the job. Not that her lady mother considered it not important, but Olenna Tyrell ended up playing a much more significant role in her granddaughter's education in that field. Her father didn't care to interest Loras into politics very much. And as a result, Loras died.

The Starks had been at the same time different and similar to her own parents. Ned Stark didn't forget to teach his sons how to rule. Robb Stark proved quite competent in ruling the North and leading armies. Catelyn Stark, however, seemed to have totally banned politics and games of power from her daughters' education. As a result, Sansa was constantly in danger of dying if someone wasn't there to protect her, and she was unprepared to face her father's downfall.

Catelyn had not been clever in the way she educated her daughters. It seemed like she assumed they would always have a man to protect them. Only, men were not always able of defending their women, or just not willing. Life was hard for women in this world, and they had to be equipped the best way possible.

Margaery wondered if the ladies of the North were used to staying in that situation of helplessness. Probably not all of them. Mira came from the North and, although her mother was born in the Reach, she still lived in the North for the greatest part of her life and arrived as ready as she could be in Highgarden. Mira was probably the most clever of her handmaidens, sometimes against her own good. Margaery regretted Sansa didn't have the same chance as they did. Both Margaery and Mira were prepared to face the real world. Sansa was not, and as a result she was vulnerable.

"Are there any news about my brothers?" she asked Margaery.

"No, I'm sorry, Sansa. No news yet. We haven't heard of the events in the North for a while. I'm sure Bran and Rickon will be fine." She wished she believed it as much as she said it.

They talked a little more time. Then Margaery went to visit Lady Lydden, a woman in the middle of her twenties who came from a minor house of the Crownlands. Margaery noticed that she was doing her best to not show any scorn towards her. She was angry at the fact Tyrion and Margaery abandoned the Crownlands. Margaery insisted for Sansa to be present when she met Lady Lydden, and Mira and Sera were present as well, just like the women who were part of the Lady of Deep Den's retinue.

The time they spent together was courteous, if not enjoyable. Margaery took her leave and ordered Mira to escort Sansa back to her chambers. Sansa accepted without complaint, like she always did. Margaery headed for her chambers with Sera.

"My Lady, may I ask you a question? One that is personal?"

"Go on, Sera."

"Is there something wrong between you and Lord Tyrion?"

Margaery slowed down, but she resumed to walk immediately. "Just a minor disagreement. Nothing you should worry about."

"I'm afraid, my lady. Is there really nothing I should fear?"

"Nothing, Sera." Unless Cersei found another way to reach her.

"My lady, I..."

"Sera, this is a private matter. It only concerns me and my lord husband. The day I want to talk about it with you, I will. I don't want to hear more questions about it."

"Yes, my lady," Sera said reluctantly.

They arrived before her chamber. When they entered, Margaery found someone sitting on her bed, his back turned on her. Even someone who never met him would know who he was.

"What are you doing here?" she asked on a harsh tone. She wasn't sure if she regretted the tone or not.

"I need to talk with you," Tyrion replied.

His voice was broken. She seldom heard him speak that way. The last time she remembered him talking like this was... when he told her about his first wife. The girl his brother told him was only a whore, and who he sent to be raped before Tyrion's eyes.

"Sera, leave us, please." Her handmaiden did as she was told.

Margaery was alone with her husband. They remained at their respective places for quite some time, Margaery looking at him, Tyrion with his back turned on her, his shoulders slumped, breathing heavily.

"What's going on?" she asked, realizing her voice had gone very soft all of a sudden. Something terrible had happened.

He said nothing. After a moment, his body began to move, and he almost let himself fall from the bed. Slowly, walking heavily as if it was an ordeal for him, hanging on the bed frame, he came to face her, his face turned to the floor. His left hand was empty, the right one was holding a scroll, one like the ravens carried, gripping it as if his life depended on it.

He looked up to her. His lips were shaking, water threatened to fall from his eyes. A movement in his throat showed he gulped. Their eyes met for a second. His talked of unbearable suffering. He looked away very quickly. He ended placing his back against the bed and sliding to the floor until he sat there.

"Tyrion..."

The scroll was still crumpled into his hand.

"My brother is dead." He finally revealed.

For a moment, she was relieved, happy by the news. Margaery had wanted this man to die. She wanted Jaime Lannister to perish, but right now, with Tyrion right there in front of her, who just told her the news, who was devastated by it, she was unable to say anything. And she felt guilty as quickly as she had felt joyous at the news.

"I guess now I know how you feel... or at least... I know a part of it," he said.

"What about Cersei?" If Jaime Lannister was dead, she knew what this meant for King's Landing.

"Prisoner. Stannis took the city and she's still breathing. I wish she was dead."

"Me too."

For a long moment, they remained there in silent. It happened a lot since they left the capital. Usually, Tyrion was the one who didn't know what to say in such circumstances. Margaery didn't want to say anything to him, and she had nothing to tell him anyway. This time, she was the one at a loss of words. She had not forgiven him for his lies. At the same time, if someone could understand what he was going through right now, it was her. She lost a brother as well.

She realized he loved his brother, just as much as she loved Loras. He loved a brother who betrayed him, and he loved him because he didn't know Jaime betrayed him.

Should she tell him? Seeing him in this state, she decided against it. She just approached and sat by his side. After a while, she took his hand. He squeezed it gently but didn't look back at her. It had been a very long time since she saw him so miserable.

A voice was telling her to reveal the truth, to tell him everything his now dead brother confessed to her. With Tywin and Jaime Lannister dead, Margaery was probably the only person alive to know that secret. Though maybe Ser Kevan and Genna had some knowledge of it.

But then she remembered something Jaime Lannister told her before they left the city. It would destroy him. It would destroy Tyrion to know the whole truth. And as much as she wanted to hate him for hiding the truth about his brother and sister, for protecting them, she didn't want to see him destroyed. Because she still loved him.

She had two weeks to think about it. She loved him just like she loved Loras. Her own brother had wanted her to turn her back on the man she loved, to abandon him, to marry Renly in order to be queen. Loras would have killed Tyrion if he had the occasion in the war. Loras sided with Renly. He didn't care about the fact Joffrey was a bastard or not. All he cared about was that his lover would become king. He didn't even think about her when he took the decision to support Renly. He just assumed Margaery would agree with this, despite their discussion at the tourney over a year ago.

In some way, both she and Tyrion were betrayed by their siblings. Loras would never have tried to kill or harm her in any way, physically speaking, but he would have been capable of killing the man she loved. Just like Cersei was ready to kill her sister-in-law, and just like Ser Jaime allowed his sister to try to kill her and Tyrion both.

"I'm sorry," Tyrion whispered. "I didn't know who else to tell. I have no one else to tell."

"Me neither," Margaery replied.

Slowly, Tyrion got back on his feet, his hand still in Margaery's. For a long time, he stood there, holding her hand, gripping it as if he was afraid to lose her. He finally let her hand go and looked at her, still with his defeated expression. He seemed about to say something but walked away in a heavy pace. Margaery wanted to say something as well, but she couldn't find it before he left her chamber. It was only then, when she closed her eyes, that she realized she was crying just like her husband. She slept alone probably for a hundredth successive night, but this one was he first in fifteen where she actually missed Tyrion's presence.