Margaery had thought she had forgotten the sound of the capital celebrating. In truth, she had never known it. She remembered the people cheering as she entered the city distributing food in the aftermath of the Blackwater, lining the streets, desperate and grateful. She remembered the stories their men had told them of how the people treated them after the battle. It was nothing compared to how the people cheered now. Children sat on their fathers' shoulders or looked around their mother's skirts, desperate for a glimpse of the convoy. Flowers were being thrown on the road ahead of the men and wagons, and only the cordon of gold cloaks between the soldiers and the citizens prevented a great surge of people. Others were crowding roofs, waving at the passing column. Whores looked out from balconies of the brothels, and innkeeps were advertising rooms cheaply for the soldiers. And they cheered the loudest for the man who rode at the head of the column.

Loren Lannister rode on a proud warhorse in battered war plate under a tattered banner, leading a column of men who bore all the tears and scars of war. Far from her own escort into the city, that had gleamed like the sun, Lord Loren's men showed every exertion and sacrifice they had made for the people now cheering them. He raised his hand from to the people cheering him, smiling at them, nodding to the men and bowing his head to the ladies.

They marched into the square before the Red Keep and gathered in two large squares before the royal court, who had come out to witness their arrival. Joffrey stood at the top of the steps leading to the gatehouse and drawbridge, flanked by his Kingsguard and royal council, Lord Tywin at his shoulder. Both were dressed in fine red and gold and Joffrey's twin Lannister-Baratheon banner hung behind them. Around them were clustered most of the lords and ladies. She saw ser Kevan, Lord Baelish, and ser Harys Swyft close by, while ser Ilyn Payne, stood further back with lady Stokeworth and her daughters, Lord and Lady Rosby and Sansa and Daenerys. Normally Daenerys was the more assured of the two, but Margaery thought that today it looked like Sansa was helping her friend through it. Indeed, Daenerys did look rather ill.

Margaery had her own court about herself, smaller and off to one side. She was an important woman, but not as important as the King, and she was not to overshadow him in any way.

The two squares left a corridor to the king's position, but at the far end of it Loren first turned and held out his hands for silence. What was he doing? This wasn't the agreed-upon procedure, he was supposed to come to the king, bow and confirm his allegiance. Garlan had said in his letter that Lord Loren was emotional, but surely in this place at this time he could follow the correct procedure.

When silence came, Loren spoke, his voice commanding the attention of all. "My people. I know you have suffered much hardship these past weeks and months. I wish I had been here sooner to alleviate your burdens. Alas I was not. Alas, I cannot even offer you generous bounty. You have heard of my battles to bring you this food. But the supply road remains closed. This is all we have. It must be managed and rationed carefully. I ask for your forgiveness in this matter. Would that I could give it to you as freely as you deserve for having suffered so long. But that time will be upon us, my people. Today I shall meet with the King and his council. I shall take full command of the armies as the King's Marshall, and then I shall march again against our enemies. And this time, I will open the supply road permanently!" He pumped his fist in the air and the people cheered. Loren then turned his horse and, with the cheers leading him on, rode to the foot of the steps, dismounted and knelt before Joffrey. "Your Grace. I am your servant. Returned to you now to serve you and your realm."

"Rise as my marshall, Lord Loren. At the will of me and my council, you will serve."

Loren rose and began ascending the steps. Before he reached the top, Tywin tapped Joffrey on the shoulder and Joff turned, leading the court inside. Margaery, waiting for this, followed on closely hoping to catch Loren as he walked at the back of the council. Stablehands took Loren's horse in behind them, which was almost as reverently treated as Loren himself.

Using the Tyrell knights as a subtle ram, Margaery was able to work her way to Loren's side. "Lord Loren," she smiled up at him, "it's good to see you."

When Loren looked down at her, her smile nearly faltered, his eyes were so cold, so full of disdain. "Lady Margaery, you as well," he nodded, turning his gaze forward again.

"Is your squire not coming with you, to help with your armour?" She asked. Garlan had told her that Loren's bodyguard and squire had both survived, though the bodyguard had lost an eye in the battle.

Loren didn't look as he answered. "Tyland is not a part of what must happen here."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see at the council meeting. I'm told you're now attending them."

"I am."

"Well then." He carried on, she struggled to keep up.

"Lord Loren, I was hoping to have a word with you before the meeting begins."

"There's no time for that, I'm afraid."

"The meeting isn't starting immediately," she said. Lord Tywin had only sprung that on her just before they headed out to await Loren's arrival. "The Hand has some private matters to discuss with the king, he will be along to convene the meeting shortly."

Loren's steps faltered. "Is he now," he said through gritted teeth. "Wonderful. Well then, I suppose I can give you a few moments."

There was no need to sound like that. But Margaery didn't push him.

Soon the court dispersed, Loren and Margaery following the council to the council chambers, the rest spreading throughout the castle. In the chambers, Pycelle sat at his seat, having never attended the gathering outside, claiming old age. There was nothing to disprove that, she supposed. Littlefinger immediately poured himself a wine and started talking with ser Kevan. Margaery smiled. A chamber maid of Lord Tywin had informed her that Kevan had been instructed not to speak to Loren beyond formal greetings before the meeting, which gave her the time she needed. She took two cups of wine, smiling as Littlefinger poured them and headed over to Loren, who waited in his armour not far away. "What did you want to speak about, lady Margaery?"

"I just wanted to inform you that we have received word from Lord Redwyne. His fleet arrived at Planky Town a week ago, they will be sailing in the next few days when they've refilled their supplies."

"They're coming here?"

Margaery nodded. "Yes. Lord Tywin's plan is to use the fleet to conquer Lord Stannis' home islands, open the sea lanes to King's Landing again."

Loren sipped his wine, nodding. "Not a bad plan, assuming we can wrest control of the bay from Stannis Baratheon's fleet."

"You think we can't?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen Lord Redwyne command before, but if he's as good on the waves as the rest of you are on land, I don't fancy his chances."

Margaery opened her mouth to respond but couldn't think of anything, so closed it again. What right did he have to say that? He may be skilled, but that didn't give him the right to assume the skills of others. "Lord Redwyne has been commanding ships his entire life."

"And your father has been commanding men for just as long, he's now in the hands of Robb Stark."

She felt her cheeks flush in embarrasment and anger at that, but kept it down, he was probably just frustrated from the march. "So what do you think of attacking Dragonstone?"

"If we can defeat Stannis' fleet, I'll consent to it."

"You'll consent? My lord, you may be the King's Marshall, but if we're going to save our families we will have to work together."

"Then work with me, let me do what I am meant to do and defeat our enemies, and give me what I need to do so." He downed the rest of his wine and set the cup down. "You just have to accept that we are in a terrible position and that I can get us out, work with me, finally."

Margaery fought to keep her face from showing her anger. "Lord Loren, we are working together, your father and sister would have kept you in Casterly Rock if I hadn't sent for you. I am the one that had you called here to command these armies that you are now demanding."

"And if you hadn't, you would be here, slowly starving, and I would be safe in Casterly Rock with my wife and children. Do not pretend that you have suffered some great inconvenience to bring me here. Go back out there and look at my army, then you'll see the men who have suffered for your regime."

"I never said that," Margaery defended herself. "I am just saying we should work together."

"You're not my queen yet, when you are, you will have the right to command me."

Before she could reply, Loren stalked back to the main table and sat down, putting his fist to his mouth and staring blankly at the wall. Margaery unclenched her fists and went to sit down the table from him, finishing her cup of wine. When Lord Tywin came, that would be something to observe.

The table had fallen silent when Loren took his seat, if he noticed he didn't show it, and the silence was palpable until the door opened. Tywin entered, followed by Joffrey, much to Margaery's surprise, had he ever attended before, not while she was there. She saw the white cloaks of two Kingsguard taking their position outside the door as Lord Tywin closed the door. Joffrey circled the table, lent down to plant a kiss on her cheek before sitting at the head of the table, Lord Tywin at his side.

"Let's begin." Tywin said. "Lord Marshall, how long will your supplies last the city before we start running low again."

"Several months at least," Loren replied. "It depends how much you want to give to the army, how strictly we begin to ration here in the city."

"The strictest," Lord Tywin said, "we must ensure that this food lasts as long as possible. Kevan, ensure that the food for the city is placed under loyal and strong guards, and prepare to introduce a strict rationing system for the city, even the castle."

"But grandfather," Joffrey said, "we still need to eat, and there are many important dates coming up that will need to have feasts to celebrate."

"My love," Margaery said, smiling at him, "perhaps in these hard times, we could all trim eat a little less, for the good of the realm."

"The king is the realm," Joffrey said, "I will not go hungry for the peasants in the city, if there isn't enough food here they can go elsewhere."

"There aren't many places they can go, your grace," Lord Varys said, wringing his hands. "Our enemies surround us on all points of the compass."

"Yes, I had to fight through two of them just to bring you this food," Loren said, "perhaps a little consideration for the thousands of men who died so that you can eat it."

Joffrey's face went hot with anger, but before he could say anything Littlefinger slid into the conversation. "My lord, that is an excellent point you raise. If I am correct, you have faced both Robb Stark and Stannis Baratheon in battle. Tell us about them, what do we need to know in order to beat them."

So Loren told them. He told them about gathering the supplies at Highgarden with Willas, of his march up the roseroad and linking with the Hightower forces. He spoke about march along the Mander, in the battlefront between the two enemy armies, the ambush of the Stark host along the roseroad and the battle at Bitterbridge. He told them of every lord killed or captured, every knight; who had lost how many men. He glared at her as he told them how no one had come to their aid, how they had fought for two days before the line had broken and the slaughter had followed.

"So what you need to do is give me full command of the army and let me lead it against the enemy. I hear you want to sail to Dragonstone. That's an acceptable target, opening the capital's sea lanes will be useful. I'll leave you enough to do that and keep the capital safe, you'll give me the rest."

Lord Tywin fixed Loren with his green eyes. Loren matched it, emerald staring into emerald. "That has not been decided."

Loren's jaw tightened. "What?"

"That," Lord Tywin repeated slowly, "has not been decided."

What was happening? The air seemed to chill, and Margaery sat back into her chair. "I am the King's Marshall. I have command of the King's armies," he looked at Joffrey, "so I will command them."

"You will command them in the field. But the king and his council still decide where they will march."

"And how well has that been going for you all?" Loren stood up, planted his fists on the table and looked them over. "Tell me, how many armies have you sent to defeat? How many have died because of where you sent them? Do you know? Do you even care?"

"They give their lives for me! I'm the king, it's their duty!" Joffrey declared.

"The Mad King would have said the same about Jaime," Loren pointed out.

"You speak out of turn, ser," Margaery said. They couldn't have splits between the council, they had to hold together.

Loren smashed the table with his fist. "No I do not speak out of line! What's out of turn is the way that this council has mismanaged everything from the beginning of the war to the end." He spun and pointed at Tywin. "You let yourself get fooled by the Young Wolf, three times. All of you," he looked at Littlefinger, Varys and Pycelle, "let the capital fall into ruin. All would have been lost if Robert's brothers hadn't gone after each other. That gave me just enough time to reinforce the city to repel Stannis' assault, which you," he glared at Tywin, Kevan and Margaery, "took your time coming to stop. Then I go to stop the ironmen attacking our west coast and what do you all do, nothing. You do nothing while Stannis' fleet reclaims Tarth, you did nothing while the Young Wolf recovered from his injuries, you did nothing while Stannis refound his confidence and when the Reach, and your food supplies, were under threat, then you sent armies to destruction under the command of an incompetant fool. This regime has had one day of success, Eddard Stark's treason was stopped, but everything else has fucked up," he glared at Joffrey. "From the king to the clerks."

"You can't talk to me that way!" Joffrey snarled, leaping to his feet. "I am the king!"

Loren stood tall and looked down at Joffrey. "Be quiet boy, listen your elders and betters are trying to fix the mistakes you and your council have made."

Margaery seethed, but she kept her fists clenched under the table. She and her brothers had tried to work with him. They recognised that he was their best commander and did all they could to get him what he needed, and to prod the council into action, how dare he disregard that just so he can vent his own anger.

"Lord Marshall, resume your seat," Kevan growled.

"Give me the army, give me command of the war so that I can actually defeat our enemies, then I will resume my seat."

"You are not the king and you are not the hand, you don't get to make demands."

"Demands! Father, this me telling you what is necessary to save your failures, to stop another Mad King to keep ruining the realm until he ends the same way."

"Kingsguard!" Tywin stood taller than Loren as the two Kingsguard outside entered, hands on their swords. "The Lord Marshall has made a threat against the King's Life and the personages of this council. Take him to his assigned chambers, he is under house arrest until he is ready to recant such threats and resume his place. Until that time, he is no longer King's Marshall."

The Kingsguard seized Loren and dragged him away. "You great bloody fool, father, your all great bloody fools! This will fall back on you. You need me, if you're going to win this war then you need me!" He continued roaring in defiance as the Kingsguard removed him from the room. Margaery smiled savagely as he was taken away. Let him remember that was not alone here.

As he was taken further away, his roars of anger became high pitched, hysterical laughter that rang around the room, echoing and swirling around them in the silent council chamber.