Highgarden was a pleasant place to dwell – for those content to lounge around all day listening to songs, eating sweet cakes, chatting idly and leisurely strolling in the gardens. It would be a perfect home for an old lady to retire and spend the rest of her days resting and playing and cooing with young grandchildren or even great grandchildren or telling them fascinating stories about her long life. It'd be an idyllic retreat for every Dowager Lady of Highgarden.
Almost every.
For the Queen of Thorns, Highgarden was the home of songs, not intrigue and riddles. A comfortable home, yes, but far too comfortable…and safe.
Her lacquer black cane tapping the floor, Lady Olenna Tyrell tottered slowly to the Red Keep's Great Hall, her twin guardsmen Left and Right behind her. At her side was her favourite granddaughter Margaery, who'd elected to accompany her rather than with her husband, Lord Renly. What is it with two of Mace's sons and daughter wedding dull and foolish people? Olenna pondered as she finally reached the great oak-and-bronze doors. First there was Garlan who'd wedded the dainty and bright-eyed Leonette Fossoway and second the prized rose of Highgarden to King Robert's youngest brother, a frivolous and unusually cheerful man who was given the dreary island of Dragonstone to end Mace's constant demands for more lands. Oh there was nothing foolish about Leonette, but she was dull. Conversing with Lady Leonette – Olenna couldn't remember if she was a green apple or a red apple Fossoway – was like chatting to one of those gaily coloured talking birds in the Summer Islands.
As for Lord Renly, Olenna knew very well of his…tendencies. It'd work well for Margaery in the end, she thought, hobbling to the front of the Great Hall with Left and Right still behind her. There was the slightest of chances Lord Renly – no, no. Loras would ensure Lord Renly remained well away from Margaery's bed. Maybe it was clever of Mace to demand Margaery to marry Lord Renly of all lords. She'd remain a maid and Mace would be satisfied with a Baratheon good-son. Marrying Margaery to Renly Baratheon was certainly a much better solution than what the Prince of Dorne did to his daughter.
Olenna craned her neck. Ah, the Great Hall was crowded today. The news must be of the utmost importance. She watched King Robert grunt as he ascended the narrow steps to the dais and slowly sit on the most uncomfortable chair in all the Seven Kingdoms. Unusually, there were a couple of other chairs – covered with a black velvet cushion each – placed near the large council table.
"Lord Baratheon has returned," noted Margaery, nodding slightly at the glum-faced Lord Stannis Baratheon who was seated at one end of the table. "I thought he would be at Storm's End for a few months." She made a small noise of surprise. "Grandmother, the Lannister Imp is here too."
"And Lord and Lady Stark." Olenna fixed her eyes on the Starks. Odd indeed. It was Margaery's wedding the last she had seen of them – why were they at King's Landing and so soon? A mystery. No one had mentioned the Starks' arrival, not a single servant or one of the Spider's little birds. News would travel fast at court – not of the Starks this time though. Nor of Lord Stannis's return.
Before Olenna could ponder more on the matter, her oaf of a son walked up to her and Margaery, a broad beam on his face. Olenna sniffed. "What is it this time? Is Desmera to be our next queen, Mace?"
"Much better Mother," said Mace, grinning from ear to ear like a buffoon.
Olenna sniffed again. What could be better than her Redwyne granddaughter a future queen? It would only be more problematic. At least it wasn't a Florent who was set to wed the crown prince.
A herald's loud voice rang out. "All hail His Grace, Robert of House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. All hail Her Grace, Catelyn of House Tully, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. All hail Their Graces Crown Prince Orys, the Prince Ormund, Princess Lyanna and Princess Minisa of House Baratheon."
Thank the Seven the queen didn't bear more sons and daughters or we would all still be hear listening to 'all hail His or Her Grace' all night. Tullys were very fertile though, like those from all families in the Riverlands. Olenna wondered how long she'd be able to remain standing at court if the king had a Frey wife. The thought of an army of black-haired and blue-eyed Baratheon princes and princesses with weaselly chins flooding the Great Hall was horrifying indeed.
Standing at the bottom of the most uncomfortable chair in Westeros were Sers Balon Swann, Garth Hightower and Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer all in white as befitting their status as knights of the Kingsguard. The Stormlands and the Reach and the Westerlands, Olenna mused as the oak-and-bronze doors creaked open at a rather sluggish pace. Three regions that have produced the finest of knights. Her ancient bones rattled as she gradually sunk to her knees along with the lords and ladies present in the Great Hall. I would have died in agony if the king had a dozen Baratheon-Frey children.
From the corner of her eye, Olenna saw Ser Barristan Selmy walk on the roll of red carpet towards the Iron Throne first. More tired than bold now. The Crakehall knight – what was his name? Kyle? Hyle? – had the honour of walking beside the king. Following them was Ser Brynden the Blackfish who was naturally escorting his niece the queen, and between them and Ser Arys Oakheart trailing at the end were the four princes and princesses: Princess Lyanna first, then Prince Orys the heir to the Iron Throne, Prince Ormund third and little Princess Minisa last. Even Olenna could not resist the tiniest of smiles as the youngest Baratheon beamed at her sweetly, her black hair framing her heart-shaped face.
The king grunted as he sat down on the Iron Throne, the queen and their four children sitting down on the five comfortable seats provided. The king glanced at the snoring Grand Maester Pycelle and made a noise of disgust. Olenna's nephew Paxter Redwyne, leant over and poked him in the arm. Whispers broke out and a few ladies tittered as the grand maester kept sleeping. The king sighed. "Let's get on with the petitions then," he decided.
Olenna frowned. A morning of ordinary petitions? The murmuring augmented as Lord Renly stepped forward and smiled at his brother the king, attired in dark green velvet, with a dozen or so golden stags embroidered on his doublet. Olenna arched an eyebrow. He looked more a Tyrell than a Baratheon.
"Your Grace," said Renly, grinning broadly at the king. "I come here requesting a place in your small council."
"Your Grace, if I may?" spoke Varys the Spider. The king nodded. "Lord Renly," said Varys, spreading his hands. "There are no positions available."
Lord Renly laughed good-naturedly. "Surely the king will ensure a place open for his own dear brother."
"There are no places open," said Lord Stannis sharply.
"There will be a change in the small council," announced the king, ignoring the argument between his younger brothers. "The time has come for change. Upon a chat with some of the lords, I have decided I will need new councillors. It is quite a sudden change I know." Olenna squinted, furrowing her brow. Did the king just give Lord Stark a dark look? Surely not! She glanced at Lord Stannis Baratheon. It was no surprise that he was grinding his teeth again.
"Before I announce the new councillors, I have an important announcement to make," the king continued. "As you well know, my daughter Princess Lyanna has been betrothed to Robb Stark for years." The murmurs grew. Olenna frowned too. Everyone knew about the betrothal – even that witless jester at Storm's End would no doubt be familiar with it. The king's eyes darkened to a stormy blue. "My lords and ladies," he went on. "It's my sad duty to inform you that the engagement is at an end." His voice rose as the courtiers' whispers increased. "Robb Stark chose to wed the late Lord Dayne's bastard daughter to protect her honour. In doing so, he decided to break his betrothal to my daughter, a princess descended from two of the most influential and powerful Houses in the Seven Kingdoms, Baratheon and Tully! Only a fool would jilt a princess for a bastard!"
Olenna glanced at Lord and Lady Stark. Lord Stark remained stoic; Lady Stark at least looked mortified. She would be, Olenna reflected, scratching her chin with her gaunt, thin fingers thoughtfully. With her son and bastard niece at fault. If any of her grandsons were stupid enough to marry a bastard, she would hit him with her cane before persuading Mace to disinherit the fool. Thankfully, her Tyrell and Redwyne grandchildren all had more brain than the Stark boy who had too much honour and too little sense. More like an Arryn than a Stark. Then again, the Stark boy was rash enough to wed a bastard.
The bastard.
Olenna's heart almost stopped.
Lord Dayne's bastard.
If Olenna was in her chambers, she would be pacing. As she was not, she made do with twitching her fingers. Of course Robb Stark would fall head-over-heels in love with Lord Dayne's bastard! Olenna almost snorted. What was it with Starks, Baratheons and Targaryens?
Is Prince Doran aware of it? Possibly. Olenna had oft suspected that the Spider was more a Martell man than a Tyrell man. Yes, the Spider gave her various juicy titbits of information from time to time and he was invested in the Tyrell-Martell alliance as much as she was, but the king across the sea was half-Dornish without a single drop of Tyrell blood in his veins.
Of course the cautious and pensive Prince Doran Martell would've discovered Robb Stark's little blunder – why else would the Red Viper be travelling to King's Landing that very minute? Olenna inwardly shrugged to herself. What Robb done did not concern House Tyrell as much as it did to the Martells. Margaery was still to be Aegon's wife; nothing would change that.
"…and Lord Stark agreed to compensate," the king was saying. "For at least the next few months until Lady Sansa Arryn's wedding to Ser Harrold Hardyng, Lord Stark will remain at King's Landing and will serve as Master of Laws as he'd once done for me many years ago." A soft punishment, but considering that the Starks hated King's Landing, it would be suitable. "Lady Stark will also return to my wife the queen's household," the king continued, "and her two elder daughters will be honoured with positions at court. Furthermore, Houses Baratheon and Stark will still be united through my son Prince Orys's marriage to Lady Lyarra Stark."
Slightly amused, Olenna watched Lord Stark's eyes widen. Surely it would not be so much of a surprise? It'd been obvious since Princess Lyanna was born that the king would do anything to have a Stark – any Stark – in his family. It was kind of like an obsession even. Why would the king want two Stark girls at court? One – Lady Lyarra – was understandable, but two Stark girls? Unless the king planned to have the younger Stark married to Prince Ormund…
No, Olenna dismissed in her thoughts. The king would not be so stupid. Both of his sons married to Starks? Every great lord in the Seven Kingdoms with children – specifically daughters – of marriageable age would turn against him. She would not be surprised in the slightest if her oafish son was the first. Besides, if the king insisted on two Stark good-daughters, Lord Stannis wouldn't stand for it. Now he was a man who wouldn't waste two sons on one alliance or allow his heir to wed a bastard to 'protect her honour'. Oh no, Lord Stannis Baratheon would discipline his heir for having a tumble and send the girl away.
"What of Ser Kevan Your Grace?" Lord Stannis inquired to the king. "He's been a competent Master of Laws and served you faithfully for years."
"His service will not be forgotten," acknowledged the king. "I have decided Ser Kevan will remain in the small council but as Master of Coin." He looked down at a clearly unhappy Ser Kevan Lannister. "You served as Master of Coin. Quite well too I believe. You will have no trouble returning to your old position Ser Kevan, I hope. Lord Baelish will give you back all the books you need."
"Your Grace!" Lord Baelish stood up, outraged. "I have served you well as your Master of Coin! I-"
"One last matter," said the king, raising his voice to drown Lord Baelish's irate complaints. "Due to Robb Stark's actions, my daughter Princess Lyanna is in need of a new betrothed." The lords and ladies whispered enthusiastically, most likely making wagers on the Princess Lyanna's future husband. Pompous as a peacock, Mace puffed out his chest. "After careful consideration," the king went on. "I have the uh, pleasure to announce the betrothal between my eldest daughter Princess Lyanna of House Baratheon and Lord Willas of House Tyrell." The court instantly burst into applause.
Well, well. Olenna glanced at the smug Mace. The Martells will not be pleased at this. They will not be happy at all.
"House Tyrell is rising," boasted Mace once court was over, "all thanks to me. I cannot wait to tell Willas the news. See Mother? I told you I would find Willas the finest prize of the Seven Kingdoms."
"Oh be quiet Mace!" snapped Olenna grumpily. She was in no mood to listen to her oaf of a son's triumphant bragging. "You said that about Garlan yet you ended up marrying him to a Fossoway!"
"The Fossoways are one of my most loyal bannermen Mother, and Leonette is her father's only child…"
"Well her father isn't the Lord of Cider Hall now is he? Besides, they should be content with your sister as the wife of the Knight of New Barrel. You could've had Garlan wedded to Princess Arianne Martell – he would be prince consort." If that was a possibility, it would be better than the one she brokered with Prince Doran all those years ago. Much better and there would finally be some sort of peace – a fragile one even – between the Reach and Dorne.
Mace looked shocked. "Mother! You must be japing! Arianne Martell? She's no maiden Mother! Surely you'd know that! She is a harlot, a slut, a…a seductress! It is said that she slept with at least a dozen men, some lords and others bastards, a servant even." He shook his head violently. "I'll never accept a Dornish harlot as a good-daughter. Not for Loras, Garlan and especially not Willas. No, Lady Leonette Fossoway is a good match for Garlan and Princess Lyanna even better for Willas. I will find a wealthy girl for Loras one day." He chuckled, beaming proudly. "Ah, a brilliant day for House Tyrell today."
Olenna sighed. At times she wished she had beat him more when he was a boy. If she had, the oaf would not be so boastful and proud all the time. Nor would he be called by the other lords as the 'Fat Flower of Highgarden' behind his back. Ah well, the past couldn't be changed, but the future can.
Leaving Mace chattering to Paxter Redwyne, Olenna tottered to her chambers, Left and Right behind her and Margaery at her side. "Odd turn of events today, do you not agree?" commented Olenna, settling down on her favourite chair.
"Father is pleased," Margery pointed out. "Very pleased."
"Hmmph. What do you think of your future good-sister?"
Margaery stifled a giggle. "She is also my good-niece Grandmother. A beautiful girl, Princess Lyanna. Clever too. I do feel sorry for her. Since the day of her birth, she was preparing herself for a life in the cold North. When she's sewing with her mother the queen, she sews gowns of white and grey. Some of them already have embroidered direwolves on them. Poor girl. A waste of gowns too."
"House Stark's loss; our gain."
"Not a total loss, Grandmother." Margaery paused. "More of a gain honestly. It will be a Stark queen once Prince Orys becomes king. Every Baratheon ruler after him will have Stark blood."
"Lord Stark is not that cunning," Olenna remarked. "He is a deep lover of truth, no matter how brutal. It is not in his nature to be devious. I believe that whatever he told the king was the truth. Lord Stark is incapable of lying successfully. As for his wife Lady Stark…perhaps it is she who wants her daughter married to Prince Orys. She is Dornish too. She probably knows many…methods of seducing a man into doing whatever she wants."
"You think Lady Stark has been manipulating her husband all along?"
"Perhaps." Olenna scratched her chin. "You will have plenty of chances to talk to Lady Stark though, with both of you in the queen's household. Lady Stark and the queen were good friends, from what I heard. Close too. I doubt the queen will be pleased at Lady Stark at the moment though. Now, enough on the Starks. We'll invite Princess Lyanna to sup with us tonight – just us. I'll not have your fool of a father frighten her off into the arms of say, a Florent. I wish to know what type of woman my future good-granddaughter is."
"I doubt my father will frighten the princess into the arms of a Florent. Besides, it is the king who desires the alliance."
Olenna snorted. "Come now Margaery! The king is angry he lost the Stark boy he already thought as good-son. He needs a replacement – a great lord or the heir of a great lord of course – and the only one available is Willas."
"There is Theon Greyjoy, but no king in their right mind would want to have a kraken bed his daughter."
"Quite. If Lord Stark is planning to wed off his ward at all, it would be to one of those northern girls. A strong one too. A Mormont most likely. When the princess dines with us, I want you to befriend her. She will be weary of us and may not say much, but I want you to gain her trust. All girls will fall in love with Highgarden, I promise you that, but not all will trust their husbands' families."
"It will not be easy gaining Princess Lyanna's trust."
"Pah. You know her already and she knows you. Build on that."
Margaery picked up a piece of silk from her embroidery basket. "You once told me to befriend Sansa Arryn too, when Father was eager to join House Tyrell with House Arryn. Am I to befriend all my future and potential good-sisters?"
Olenna gave her a dry look. "Garlan's already married and you know as well as I do that Loras is not keen to be married off anytime soon."
"Grandmother, will I still…?"
Olenna's old eyes met Margaery's youthful brown ones. Not many were aware of the Targaryen restoration – only Olenna herself, Margaery and Willas. The sole time Mace the oaf would find out was when the king across the sea lands with his sellsword armies. However, with the latest development…
There was little chance Princess Lyanna would ascend as queen with Willas as her consort, but with a Baratheon good-granddaughter and good-grandson…
"Yes," said Olenna firmly. The Tyrells owe the Targaryens everything. "We have planned for years and House Tyrell will be remembered in history for this. You'll be queen as I promised, Margaery. It will not be long now. What is the position of Lady of Dragonstone compared to queen?" As Doran Martell would say, though a few pieces have moved, the game will end the same.
Tyrell and Martell victory.
Olenna's eyes gleamed at the thought of it. King Aegon Targaryen, the Sixth of His Name sitting rightfully on the Iron Throne with Margaery as his queen. While the Baratheon king's descendants will have Stark blood in their veins, there'll be Tyrell blood running through the veins of King Aegon's descendants. Tyrells rose under one Targaryen king; they will rise higher under another.
Margaery smiled. "There is a problem though, Grandmother. I am Lord Renly's wife. The Faith will not allow me to take another husband."
Olenna chuckled, rubbing her thin fingers together. "Don't fear about that. We have the means to rid you of an…unwanted husband. One day, Margaery, you will be queen. One day…"
This chapter is basically for all the southron lords to know about what Robb had done. The winner is Clary Sage, but as you specified in the review, I will accept your reasons :) Congratulations spectre4hire! I'm looking forward to reading about the prompt for a oneshot you want me to write for you!
I plan to take a short break from The Dance of Spring soon to get all the oneshots done.
Todd, I really liked what you wrote about Robert pressuring Ned into disinheriting Robb. Like, I really liked it. I might mention some of it in the next Ned chapter, but I kind of already had the remainder of the story roughly planned out :( I also talked to a couple of people and there was an agreement that the difference between Jenny of Oldstones and Daenerys 'Sand' is that Jenny is a commoner while Daenerys - in the eyes of most of Westeros - is a bastard from House Dayne. At least she has a little noble blood. I respect your opinions though.
The chapter after the next one will be back in the North and I'm a little stumped. Whose POV should I write in? Robb, Daenerys, Arya, Maester Luwin or someone else? It will be regarding Robb dealing with the northern lords. The obvious choice will be writing it in Robb's POV, but writing it in the eyes of an observer would be so interesting too. I've decided to let you readers decide which POV the chapter should be in. Currently the options are Robb, Daenerys, Arya, Maester Luwin or someone else (please not Jon - I feel like I might ruin his character even more). If you want to read it in the POV of someone else, please leave a suggestion who :D
