The city had a life to it she hadn't seen before. When she'd first arrived, Robert Baratheon, the one she'd called the Usurper most of her life had just died and the city had been in mourning, then the war had come, with it famine, unrest, revolt, the near death of the Royal Family and a siege that threatened the city, a battle, fires, looting and devastation, and a hero who rose to defend them. Then the Tyrells had come. Now there was light and laughter and food for all, shining knights and blushing maidens inhabited the keep and city, armies of warriors stood ready to defend the city from it's foes, and a new queen would soon be upon them - a queen who seemed to want to know them.
"Are you sure we should go?" Dany asked Sansa.
"We have no idea how long we'll be here," Sansa reminded her, her auburn hair shining. A new life had come to her when her betrothal to Joffrey had been called off, she smiled and she laughed and she sang her way through the days that came and went, but Dany couldn't shake off her nerves.
"True," Dany said. The Lannisters were no friends to them, only Lords Loren and Tyrion seemed to watch out for their welfare, but Lord Loren's power had been stripped, the two of them remove from his protection in the tower and placed in new chambers. They hadn't seen him since he had been named the King's Marshall. And Lord Tyrion, whatever his wit, was a dwarf, how could he possibly defend them. As for those who thought to smuggle her from the city, she had heard nothing.
Sansa turned to her, smiling. "Come," she said, holding out her arm. "Let's go see the future Queen, she can't be worse than Cersei."
Dany smiled back and linked her arm with Sana's.
As they approached the agreed meeting place with Lady Tyrell, Dany caught sight of the outer and inner courtyards of the keep. So many lordlings had come from the Reach and from the West that there wasn't enough space in the castle. These lords could hardly be expected to roost with the rabble outside the city or sup with the smallfolk inside it, so had been given permission to set up pavilions inside the outer courtyard, leaving only the inner ones for training.
And train they did. She saw one of the Redwyne twins hammering on the shield of the other, Ser Tallad the Tall drove Ser Osney Kettleblack back across the courtyard with a flurry of blows, but Osney's brother Osfryd was dealing as much damage as more to the thick knight Willem of Farlem. They'd barely just fought one battle and already prepared for the next. At the entrance to the tower, they were met by the beautiful Loras Tyrell. Sansa had described the knight who had gifted her a rose so many times she thought she'd have an inkling of him, but finally seeing him up close, Sansa hadn't done him justice. His thick brown hair fell in curls around his face, framing his pale skin and deep brown eyes, and his greeting exhuded nobility. "My ladies," he said, bowing at the waist. "You look lovely this fine day."
"Th-thank you, Ser Loras," Sansa replied breathless.
"Yes, thank you, good ser," she added. Dany glanced at Sansa, seeing a redness in her face that was more than rouged cheeks. It's a pity, Sansa, but that white cloak blocks him off from you as much as a chastity belt would you from him. She kept snatching glances at Ser Loras, but he didn't seem to pay them the slightest bit of attention in return, short of answering their questions. She couldn't help but feel a little offended.
The Tyrells had been hosted in the Maidenvault, behind the royal sept, it's long slate roof held up by buttresses that were decorated by the least grotesque grotesques she had seen, angels and maidens with hoods of innocence, singing songs of purity to the skies. It was here that Baelor the Blessed had imprisoned his sisters to avoid their temptation to carnal sin.
Outside the door stood two guardsmen in steel capped half helms and green cloaks edged in gold satin and the rose of Tyrell was sewn on their breasts. They opened the door as Ser Loras approached and ushered them in with smiles that would never be found on a Lannister man at arms.
Inside there were far fewer knights than outside, but for every one there seemed to be half a dozen ladies. Ladies in silk and satin dresses embroidered with golden roses everywhere. Ladies giggled in one corner and played the harp in another, some practiced embroidery while others were sharing the latest gossip. "Lady Sansa, Lady Daenerys!" Margaery swept down on them from one side, smiling a wide smile.
They dropped to their knees. "Your Grace," they both said.
"Won't you call me Margaery?" She asked, bringing them to their feet and giving a sisterly kiss to her brother. "Brother, I'm sure you've got duties for the King in your new role. I can take the ladies from here."
She led them down to the back of the Maidenvault where they saw a broad man, well built an a knight to the core reclining, his heavy green velvet not enough to hide the bandages at his collar, and clearly in more than a little pain, he was being tended by a dainty, bright eyed woman, who cooed in his ear and he smiled in reply. Next to him was the smallest old woman she'd ever seen, who looked delicate enough that a breeze would carry her to the wind. "Please, Sansa, Daenerys, meet my brother, Ser Garlan, and my grandmother, the Lady Olenna Tyrell, widow to Lord Luthor Tyrell, who's memory we all mourn."
"Kiss me children," the old woman commanded them, and Sansa dutifully kissed the old woman on the cheek, Daenerys doing the same. "It's good to finally see you, I suppose we should introduce this little flock of hens now." They were introduced to the Ladies of Margaery Tyrell. Lord Tyrell's tall, dignified wife, Lady Alerie, whose long silvery braid was bound with jeweled rings. There were three Tyrell cousins, Megga and Alla and Elinor, all close to Sansa"s age. The dainty, bight eyed woman was Lady Leonette, another Fossoway as well, and wed to Ser Garlan. Septa Nysterica had a homely pox-scarred face but seemed jolly. Pale, elegant Lady Graceford was with child, and Lady Bulwer was a child, no more than eight. And "Merry" was what they were to call boisterous plump Meredyth Crane, but most definitely not Lady Merryweather, a sultry black-eyed Myrish beauty.
"I knew your grandfathers you know," Old Lady Olenna said to them before any other could speak, ushering the two of them to join her. "Lord Rickard, before he died, a sight I'm glad to say I never saw, and King Jahaerys, although I was more to know his brother, Daeron. We were to be wed once, though we both had other ideas to that. Just as Joffrey is the king and Renly decided to have another idea on that, though I am rather pleased to say that I was a tad more successful than he."
"Mother!" Lady Alerie chided.
"Quiet Alerie, I'm talking, and don't call me mother, I squeezed more than one oaf out, but I'm fairly sure that you came from between a different pair of legs."
"Grandmother, what will our guests think of us, speaking such words."
"That one of us has our wits about us," Olenna snapped back at her Granddaughter. I've seen vipers that snap less than she does. Dany thought. I wonder if she'd fall asleep if someone played her a tune. If she did, it would likely be out of boredom as anything else. "No matter, I do hope you enjoy yourselves here." She said to the two of them. "This little flock may be more boring than me, but they're better company than Cersei , though many things would be better company than Cersei Lannister, and that includes my chamber pot."
"You'll be welcome among us as long as you are here," Margaery promised them, placing a soft hand on Dany's arm, but it's touch still stung of something. "I promise, even after the wedding."
"I can't wait for the wedding!" Little lady Bulwer gushed. "Just like the songs, the beautiful lady marrying the gallant pri-"
"Galant?" Sansa couldn't help but blurt out.
They all looked at her, but faster than Dany would have believed it was the old lady Tyrell who answered. "What do you mean child?" She snapped. "We've heard much of his gallantry, and he speaks well enough. He could use a little deflating, but that would be his Lannister blood. Why do you question it?"
Sansa's mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, but something nagged at Dany's mind that they shouldn't reveal too much to these woman. She stepped in before Sansa could say any more. "What Lady Sansa means is that Joffrey's mother recalled him from the battle at the walls, not the most gallant exit from a knight, you, Ser Garlan seem to have shown more gallantry on the battlefield."
He gave a pained chuckle. "Alas if only I'd made it to the battlefield," he answered. "My horse was slain from under me by an archer before I made it to the battle. I landed... poorly."
"Our brothers seem to not be fairing as well as yours in this war, Sansa," Margaery said with a smile. "Yours already has ten victories to his name is it?"
How could they ask such an insensitive question. "I... my brothers... I."
Dany took Sansa's hand. "While Lady Sansa has lost two brothers, my lady," she informed Margaery. "When the Greyjoys took Winterfell."
They all glanced at each other, not embarrassed as they should be, but confused. "Have you... not heard?" Margaery asked, tentatively, seemingly wrong footed for the first time since they" arrived.
"Your brother... what's his face... the one who likes killing people..."
"Killing people?" Sansa asked, confused.
Olenna snapped her fingers. "Yes, killing people, violent, takes after your father in looks."
"Tristan?"
"Yes, him," Olenna said, looking like shed just relieved herself after an hour on the privy. "He retook Winterfell, your younger brothers were alive and well, the Greyjoy lied." She shook her head. "Have the Lannisters been such bad hosts that they never told you even that. How rude of them."
"Bran... Rickon... they're alive?" She sounded like a ghost, just risen from the grave. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her features at that moment.
They continued talking for most of the day, spurred on to happier thoughts by the news of life rather than death, but Dany could never quite take her eyes of the old woman, who was watching Sansa intently.
They were escorted out by Lady Margaery and her companions, who said goodbye with hugs and kisses, and they returned to their chambers. On the way, Sansa regaled her with stories of the brothers she now knew were alive and Dany forced her smile to stay on her lips, even as she wanted to cry. As Sansa was telling her of Brandon and how he used to climb trees, all she could think of was the lemon tree outside the house with the red door and the children who used to play in its shadow. As she sang of Robb leading her and Arya down into the crypts where a ghost leapt out at them, a ghost that was quickly revealed to be their bastard brother covered in flour, she thought of the spectre of Viserys, but when he came at her he wasn't covered in flour. Sansa and her brothers, Margaerys and her brothers and cousins, Lyonel Baratheon and his sister, it was nothing like what she and Viserys had had. Her brother had kept her safe and it had destroyed him and lit a fire that had burned her, but not with these others, here safety didn't mean sacrifice, when a brother took his sister's hand he didn't crush the life from it.
As they made their way back towards Maegor's Holdfast a commotion in the courtyard caught their attention. A hundred Lannister horsemen were gathered, their mounts forming an aisle with two great warhorses, barded and covered in Lannister red and gold waited. The Lannister knights raised their lances in salute as two figures strode between them. Both had blonde hair, the first was young and slight, the second tall, lean, his hair cropped and moustache neat on his upper lip. Lord Loren, so he was leaving then. They'd heard he was to depart to war soon, but hadn't known when. There was no pomp to his departure, no grand ceremony, only him and the men who would be following him. It was said that he had denied a departure celebration offered by the Hand of the King, or some said the Tyrells or even the king himself, Dany couldn't believe that Joffrey would offer that, but if anyone had, it had been refused. When they got to the two horses waiting at the end, the slighter figure held the reigns while Loren swung himself up on his horse, the movement making the gems in his scabbard catch the light and twinkle like a dozen multicoloured stars. When his squire had mounted on the horse behind him, another figure rode up beside them both – Ser Gerold, Loren's right hand throughout his tenure as Hand, he was holding the great Lannister banner, a sheet of scarlet with the rampant lion shimmering on the silk. The two lines of knights fell in behind Lord Loren as he rode out of the Red Keep to where the army was gathered outside the city.
"Will we be okay?" Sansa asked.
Dany nodded, squeezing her arm. They had been removed from the Tower of the Hand and given new quarters when Lord Tywin had taken Lord Loren's place, suddenly removed from his protection, they had felt a chill of fear for the first few nights, but nothing had happened. The Lannisters seemed intent on keep Joffrey focussed on Margaery and they hadn't seen him close since the battle. "We'll be fine," she said. "We'll be fine."
