"Margaery, the escort is here."

"Thank you Ser Arryk," she said, smiling at the knight as he looked in through the carriage window. "We should go and meet them ourselves, be on your best behaviour ladies," she grinned at her ladies and handmaidens, who giggled as they prepared to follow her from the carriage. They dismounted at the bridge near the town of Smokeshelm, almost directly due west of King's Landing, straddling the Blackwater Rush. It was a small place, no walls to watch over it, and only the wooden keep of the Knight of Smokeshelm and his pitiable garrison, half the buildings in the town were taverns to accommodate the only other thing of note there, the bridge.

Tyrell soldiers had taken position in the town, lining the road and manning the bridge into the royal demesnes of the crownlands. After weeks of travel, they were finally entering the last leg of the journey, and would be escorted the rest of the way by representatives from King's Landing, as befit her station as the soon to be queen. "Who do you think will come?" She heard Elinor ask Mira.

"Cersei was escorted by Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, as well as two other councillors and a hundred knights of the King's own household," Mira replied, "surely they would do no less for lady Margaery?" In fact, her brothers had been in charge of attempting to arrange their escort appropriately; her entry into the city had to be perfect.

On the bridge stood a knight in gleaming white plate, one that Margaery did not know, next to him was a man in Lannister crimson, holding the twinned lion and stag banner of the king. Beyond the bridge she saw two lines of horses stretching out, mounted by men in gleaming plate and burning sigils. She frowned, this didn't seem right. She approached the knight of the Kingsguard, who knelt before her, head bowed. "Lady Margaery."

"Ser knight," she replied, smiling widely, "might I have the honour of your name?"

He got to his feet. "I am Ser Balon Swann, my lady, acting Lord Commander of the Kingsguard until the release of Ser Jaime Lannister. I am to command your escort of honour into the capital. I have fifty knights with me, men of good hearts and true steel, sworn among them to Casterly Rock, King's Landing and Highgarden. On my oath, no harm will befall you for the journey."

That couldn't have sounded more rehearsed if he tried. She could tell from the way Ser Balon held himself that he was a warrior, and his reputation on the tourney field spoke for him, but fine words were clearly not his strong suit. "And I do not believe I could be in safer hands," she told him. "But, forgive me Ser Balon, but I was led to believe that more members of the Council would be accompanying me."

"I'm afraid that you were misinformed, my lady, by word of the Queen Regent, the council is needed to remain in the capital and continue directing the war."

She frowned. "Not even Lord Loren?"

Ser Balon shook his head. "Lord Loren's duties as the King's Marshall keep him too busy to exit the keep, particularly with the enemies of the king still at large."

Damn.

"The people of the capital praise Lord Loren to the skies above, they like our food, but he saved them from swords."

"And it is far easier to love someone standing between you and a blade than bringing you food," Margaery finished, her mouth thin. "Would it be possible to have Lord Loren as part of our escort to the capital, it would do a great deal for us if we can share some of that love."

It seems that part had not gone to plan.

"Very well Ser Balon, then we place ourselves in your capable hands." She returned to the carriage, leant her head in through the window. "I will rejoin you shortly my dears," she told her handmaidens, "but I must speak with grandmother first."

She moved to the second carriage of the caravan, smaller than the first but furnished with far more cushions. Her grandmother was resting back against the soft backed seat specially made for her. She looked peaceful, but when Margaery stepped inside her eyes flashed open, her wrinkled face twitching and grey hair tied up neatly and hidden beneath a soft cowl. "Hello dearest," Olenna Tyrell said as Margaery sat opposite her.

"Lord Loren isn't with the escort," she said.

"Is he not?" Olenna sighed. "Pity."

"Grandmother, this is a significant blow to our ambitions."

"Not as much as you seem to believe Margaery," Olenna replied. "We may not be able to so easily tie ourselves to Lord Loren's victories but-"

A knocking on the carriage door made then stop and look over. She opened the slot in the door and an armoured hand slipped a letter through. She snatched it up and closed the door to the fist. Slitting open the letter and scanned it over. "Oh by the Seven, Loras!"

"What has my grandson done now?" Olenna asked.

Margaery sighed. "He says that father went himself to try and persuade Lord Loren to come. We told him that it should be him."

"I warned you this might happen," Olenna said, closing her eyes and leaning back. "Loras wasn't going to do it."

"But with Garlan injured, it was up to Loras. Father would hardly go to Lord Tywin's second son with tact."

"You remember how Loras came back to the camp after Storm's End," Olenna said. "Ranting like an old man and raging like a bull, he holds the Lannisters to blame for Renly's death, and as he was acting Hand of the King, Lord Loren in particular." Margaery did remember, it had taken all that Garlan and she could do to persuade him not to try and hunt down Lord Loren Lannister when he got to the city. Still, they'd expected more than this.

"He's probably right," Margaery said. The arrow attack, that came very close to ending the lives of both Renly and Stannis certainly worked in the favour of the Lannisters a great deal, though the survival of Lord Stannis meant that he gained a powerful army for the Battle of the Blackwater, an army still largely intact, according to reports.

"Probably, but not certainly, and besides, we're in bed with the Lannisters now, Loras is going to have to behave himself to keep this relationship sweet in its infancy. At least until you provide an infant prince," Olenna said. Margaery nodded. As it turned out, it was a relief that Renly's seed hadn't taken within her, if she'd had an heir with him this would all be different. House Tyrell would likely be fighting for the rights of an infant and half their vassals would be courting either Stannis or Tywin. "Come now," Olenna said, sitting forward. "Let's not focus so much on this one failing, together with House Lannister we have the resources to overcome the future and push forward with confidence. Our entrance into the city is already being taken care of by the boys of the family, so you remember all we have been told of the King?"

Margaery nodded. Lord Tyrion had told them a great deal during the negotiations, and the spies they sent amongst his followers said just as much and what they said was promising. They spoke of how Joffrey could be easily raised to anger when harm came to his family, his Lannister cousins at Oxcross for example. They should well be able to use that to get him to protect them. He was still showing some of the recklessness and immaturity of his young years. But these were all things that Margaery could work with. "I have everything prepared grandmother."

"I don't doubt it. But there is more than that. We may not have been able to so easily tie ourselves to Lord Loren's victory, but could he prove to be an ally? The man disappeared for years, and I have heard interesting rumours regarding him and his father."

Margaery glanced back at the letter and shook her head. "No, Loras says that Lord Loren has started frequenting the lower taverns, and has a habit of driving off any Tyrell man who claims to have played a part in the battle. I'll do what I can, but things will have to change for him to take us seriously."

"There's nothing to be done?"

"Well..." Margaery said, "father says that Lord Loren has been pressing for quick action in the war, perhaps if we backed him up on that?"

Olenna nodded, deep in thought. "Perhaps. I suspect Lord Tywin would be keen to put our numbers to use, and if Lord Loren were to march with a Tyrell army it would give us the opportunity to work on him. Something to consider at least. What about the Stark girl, and the last Targaryen?"

"We're not planning on meeting them at the moment," Margaery told Olenna. "Our position isn't so secure yet that we want to draw too much attention to Joffrey's previous betrothed and the last woman of the old dynasty."

"Agreed, keep them at arm's reach until we know more about where we stand. Still, they could have useful information, they have been under the Lannister regime since it began. And the Stark girl, if the boys were all to fall, unlikely, but possible, she could be the key to the North."

"I'll take her close if I must," Margaery said. "I'm sure Mira will be able to befriend her easily enough."

"Splendid, it seems you have things in hand." Olenna settled back again. "Now my dear, leave me to rest my eyes a little, I fear I must dine with your mother later and I'll need to prepare my mind."

Margaery bit back her retort, her grandmother's tongue savaged anyone and everyone, but did she have to speak in such a manner to her own family? "Very well grandmother." She leaned in and brushed a kiss across her grandmother's forehead before slipping out of the carriage.

"Was your grandmother well my lady?" Mira asked as Margaery returned to her own carriage.

"Yes, thank you Mira," she replied with a smile. "Could you fetch me ink and paper, I must pen a missive to my brother." Willas was not travelling with them, but he always had sage advice for her and the family, and was in charge of Highgarden in their absence. "How many more ravens do we have trained to fly to Highgarden?" She asked.

"Two I believe," Elinor replied.

She nodded, she could write one more now and save the other for if they needed it closer to the time.

After recording the events, assuring Willas of her safety, and asking him on his health, she sealed the letter and made to move away when a thought struck her.

She took another page, dipped the quill in ink again, and started scratching out a message to King's Landing.