A/N: I know you all wanted to either see Robb's magical adventures or King's Landing going crazy, but we're going to do a last Margaery chapter before we dive into Robb's magical adventures. It's still pretty important - Margaery is more concerned with the politics between the two of them. This takes place roughly around the same time as the first half of Sansa's interlude (with the next chapter following Robb's half of the same time period), and the two chapters after that will be roughly in the same place timeline wise. So, in summary:

Mid-Late 298 AC

- Interlude: Sansa

- Margaery X

- Robb III

Late 298 AC/Early 299 AC

- Robb IV

- two Interludes that I will reveal soon.

I will post an appendix with timelines and ages after Arc 3 ends soon enough, but hopefully that clarifies it a bit.


MARGAERY X

I had been so stupid.

That, alongside many other unwelcome thoughts, filled my mind as I watched my husband breathe lightly in his sickroom. Grey Wind curled up next to his master, unwilling to leave except only to eat, to the strong objections of Lady Catelyn. After Maester Luwin quickly established that Grey Wind's presence improved his condition, I quickly put my foot down as best as I could, and so Grey Wind was with Robb all the time.

Robb's sudden fever had burned through him, leaving him in a coma that forced Maester Luwin to feed him with water and honey to keep him from deteriorating even more than he already was. In a world without IVs or 24/7 check-ins, it was hard for me to keep my eyes off of my husband, and do other things that needed doing.

Gods, he was so weak and pale, laying there on the bed. I thought back to the day before he was sick - an absolutely perfect day. Our betrothal, and wedding, and how amazing he was, and how lucky I felt to have him as my partner. I knew that I had well and truly fallen in love with Robb, but seeing him in this state reminded me of that in a way I would wish on no other person. Bright, shining, loving Robb….was as much as a balm to my problems as he was a weakness, an exposed factor that could make or break my survival, as well as the survival of all those around me.

If Robb died, what would I do? I was already wedded and bedded, and would either have to hope that I was pregnant and would survive the birthing, to raise the future Lord of House Stark, or I would most likely have to marry another man whose goodness I had no guarantee of, or, if House Tyrell could swing it, a marriage with Aegon VI, and end up burning to death under a rival claimant. There were no defenses for me - I had already thrown in my chips with Robb for better or for worse. Sure, House Stark could switch over for a marriage between Bran and I, but the thought of marrying Bran made me feel absolutely sick with disgust - he, like the rest of the children of House Stark, was just like another sibling to me. Robb couldn't die, and he wouldn't die though; it was far too early for Robb to pass.

I mentally reminded myself of the situation again. What did I know? I knew that I had prevented Bran's fall. Bran was, in canon, supposed to be a greenseer of renown; and in show canon, if it were to be believed, the strongest greenseer in the world, and his fall opened up his power. I had expected that Bran would have received another, less debilitating injury, that would open up his mind to the powers of the Three-Eyed Crow? Raven? Either way, I had expected Bran to have a much easier entry into the world of Greenseeing, but he hadn't, or at least, that I knew of yet.

Robb...though, Robb was of the same bloodline as Bran, and unlike me, a bloodline likely descended from the ancient magics of the Children of the Forest, if the theories I read about had any meaning. Robb had seen at least one prophetic vision - he had seen the execution of Eddard Stark in a manner too eerily accurate to be faked, or merely a dream. He had even quoted Sansa's refrain, or at least, a version of it from the show, which made me wonder exactly which canon was correct. But that was besides the point - the point was that Robb, in some form or fashion, has some level of greenseeing ability, or something of a similar nature.

Not only that, Robb's visions had been getting worse and worse lately, as far as I could tell from hindsight. He had not been sleeping well, I knew, both from the experience of sharing his bed, but also, his tendencies to wake up very early and go to sleep early in response, claiming bad dreams, or other things. He had fallen ill the day after Bran was supposed to have fallen, with a very unsubtle fever that burned through him until he was in a coma, but no worse than that. He had been possibly...compelled to go into the Godswood, perhaps, and collapsed in front of the Heart Tree. I was certainly no fool, and I was not about to start now; all of those factors added up to a singular conclusion. Robb had replaced Bran to become the next powerful greenseer.

That was...interesting. I was unsure of what that meant. Would Robb slowly lose his personality and become a soulless husk? What did it mean to be a powerful greenseer? Greenseeing was a supposed one-in-a-million trait, which I knew, but it was hardly random - it was a magical ability limited to only magical bloodlines, which meant that with all of the people in Planetos, it was entirely possible for greenseeing to occur in two members of one family, if they possessed the same bloodline exactly. Bran had been noted to be born to become the next powerful greenseer, though, and if the theories were right, it was entirely possible that everything had occurred to ensure Bran had been born, but given that it was the case, why Robb, and not Bran, even if they shared the exact same bloodline? What had changed?

The implications though...Robb could enhance his military strategy and personal wisdom with the powers of the greenseers in a frightening manner. If he could warg, being able to warg into a bird to see battlefields or into Grey Wind to protect him and I while we were vulnerable would be utterly useful, and if he could see into the past, or the future...well, there was certainly room to exploit that to our absolute advantage, between military strategy, and if Robb could manage it, learning more about Valyrian magics long lost to the world.

However, that also meant we had new enemies - Bloodraven was a neutral actor, at best, assuming that him and the Three-Eyed Crow were one and the same, and I had no idea what his, or their intentions were. Varys would certainly love to see Robb's head on a spike for the use of magic, meaning we could not trust him, but he was already suspect to begin with. Euron Greyjoy and the other powerful magicians of the world...well, I assume that Robb's powerful greenseeing abilities put us on the radar. This was both very good and very, very bad - it was a mixed blessing that we would have to be wary of, especially as Robb's use of these magics could potentially risk his identity itself.

I hated the thought of more unknown variables in the Game itself, but I also realized that we had somehow become unwilling participants to another game that I was blindsided in. One, at least, with even more dangerous actors, with years more experience, and with even deadlier consequences if we failed. Who knew what powers these magicians or greenseers held? Who knew the level of influence that each of these actors had sunken into the realm? In a world with "shadow-baby" blood sacrifices actual, breathing dragons, and demonic ice zombies that literally could only be killed with fire, or fire-adjacent material like obsidian, the actual political Game was minimal compared to the threats Robb and I had suddenly been thrust into.

That was, if Robb had truly replaced Bran as the next greenseer. Even then, if Bran had truly become the greenseer he was meant to be in canon, we had to help him as best as we possibly could, and secure the future for House Stark and House Tyrell in the face of a dangerously uncertain world. There was simply too much at stake.

Grandmother's words, and the sudden turn of events of Robb's injury had awoken me to a terrible truth; I had fucked up the Game by acting too passively. Sure, I had tied myself to the most stable House, and my actions in changing Willas's injury, indirectly creating an alliance, that could contest the biggest alliance in the realm and could absolutely break Tywin Lannister himself, but nothing was guaranteed. It was entirely possible that Tywin had plotted some secret collaboration with the Free Cities, or so on, and if I had played assuming I knew all of the cards, I could miss it and doom my family to death.

I had been stupid. I had been complacent. Most importantly though, I was clearly not a player of the Game yet, and I needed to be, if I wanted to secure our family's future. Even more embarrassingly, I knew where the cards had lain, and I had the power to manipulate it a little earlier than I had thought. I couldn't risk a surprise coming up and blindsiding me again, though I suspect that would occur regardless. The only thing I could do is to secure my world as best as I could, and prepare for the worst.

The first order of business, when Robb awoke, was to tell him everything. Perhaps he would know through greenseeing, if I had been proven right, but either way, he was my Lord Husband, and we were bound together. If he fell, I fell, and vice versa - there was simply no other option. That was clear to me, and that was something I could hold on the backburner until he awoke (because he had to, what would happen if he didn't?). Robb would know what to do with the information, or at least, he would know how to approach the information with his family.

However, there were other things I could do right now. I had no doubt that Grandmother had acted proactively with the knowledge, but there were a few things I could do, specifically, to make sure that Robb and I were as secure could be, before the impending chaos that would follow King Robert's death could fall upon us.

Specifically, I needed to secure the North. There were three threats that the North would face in the midst of the War, and of the Others, who had already begun to spawn, if the words of the deserter had been accurate. Specifically, House Bolton, the Ironborn, and the Free Folk.

The Free Folk could work well enough - we could resettle them into the Gift, long-term, and there was plenty of unused land that Robb and I could move them to, not only to secure the realm more firmly against the Others, but also, because I wanted the North to develop and flourish, and with a freely trickling in population to settle the lands, it would be easier to fulfill my visions of creating trade and prosperity in the North.

Second was House Bolton. Roose Bolton would only serve House Stark for as long as it was convenient, and I fully intended to convince Robb to send Roose out into a warzone where he would surely die when war broke out, but our only defense against House Bolton at the moment was Domeric's betrothal to Arya. Thank the Old Gods that Domeric had never tried to visit his brother Ramsay, and had been pulled away at every possible moment to avoid attempting to meet him, but Ramsay Snow needed to be dead now, if I wanted to avoid the massive issue that he would pose later. I had been complacent enough in letting him live, and I wasn't going to allow him to become even more of a threat to House Stark than he already was.

Unfortunately for me, though Ramsay had been a violent boy, my understanding of the timeline, as well as my knowledge from traveling merchants and spies around the Dreadfort had indicated that Ramsay had not dared commit any crimes as of yet, which made sense, as Domeric was not dead as of this point in time. Ramsay still needed to die though, and I had talked to Grandmother about the subject. She had chastised me for holding open loose ends, especially ones dangerous enough to threaten my claim and the claim of my future children. Thankfully, though Ramsay was unofficially the bastard of Lord Bolton, he was not yet known to anyone but Roose, meaning that he would be very easy to kill off, or so Grandmother said. Grandmother had arranged for a bandit attack to conveniently get rid of Ramsay and of his bastard boys, with the express instruction to kill both Ramsay and Reek - I was not about to be blindsided yet again.

Finally, the Ironborn. The Ironborn would not respect anyone other than an Ironborn to rule the Iron Islands, unless they were so thoroughly conquered that there was simply no opposition. I wasn't stupid, of course, the Reach would not be able to conquer the Iron Islands unless we wasted a ton of resources to do so. What the Iron Islands had, though, were ships that could be used in plenty, and those were always useful, and even if Euron Greyjoy would most likely sit on the Seastone Chair after deposing of his brother, what I could do was to artificially create some doubt by giving Theon a strong position as a rival claimant, and perhaps, tying him firmly to the North or the Reach.

Theon would need a fleet of comparable power to even think about matching his Father and Uncle, and would need an incentive to keep him allied to us, as opposed to running to the Ironborn. What better way would there be of doing thing than tying Theon to Desmera Redwyne, and to the Redwyne fleet? I wasn't sure if that was a politically astute move to make, but in theory, it sounded great - Theon would have a beautiful wife living in the Arbor, and some level of command over a fleet, and House Redwyne would have claim to the Iron Islands, and would be able to bolster their strength with the rich iron deposits of the Iron Islands. Paxter Redwyne would suddenly be rewarded with a good-son in a Lord Paramount's seat, which is something he has aimed for, even if it was the Iron Islands.

Perhaps if there was enough power and political capital used, we could even directly contest Euron Greyjoy and place Theon firmly on the Iron Islands. Especially if we had a fleet that could oppose the Ironborn, we could also use the fleet to hit the Westerlands hard, and keep the Ironborn distracted enough to see the opportunity in assaulting the Westerlands, and not the North. Preventing Theon's stupidity in going to his father and outright demanding an alliance with the North would be a good way to avoid drawing Balon Greyjoy's ire.

However, there were plenty of other methods we could use to ensure that Theon and Desmera, alongside House Redwyne, would profit, including a split of the Westerlands and some pilfered Lannister gold. This would make the betrothal even more attractive to Paxter Redwyne, and place our actor in an advantageous position when the fight for the Iron Islands inevitably broke out. Besides, the reward was astounding. Imagining a combined Redwyne/Ironborn fleet with the resources of House Redwyne and the martial and naval powers of the Ironborn, indebted to Robb and I was a mouthwatering thought and would be incredibly useful for any conflicts that followed.

Most importantly though, Theon needed to be tied to House Stark or Tyrell to give him an incentive to defend us against the Ironborn, his people. Theon was not all too fond of his father, but he wanted to prove himself as heir, and would only go to the Ironborn if there were no other options. As his position as a hostage was a dangerous position for one to be in, giving him a reason to stay would be a major win, and show Theon that he needn't go back to his family and side with them if he didn't want to. That meant that Theon would have to be married to either Sansa (who was currently betrothed to Joffrey), or to a family member of mine.

There were plenty of options for Sansa that didn't involve tying herself to Theon when her betrothal to Joffrey inevitably broke, being the daughter of a Lord Paramount (maybe Sansa and Garlan, if our plan with Myrcella didn't work out? A thought I would shelve for another day). But not only that, even if Theon wanted to be connected to House Stark, he needed a position that could afford him some level of real power that House Stark simply could not provide if he really wanted to claim the Iron Islands, or carve a place for himself in the world. Desmera wasn't immediate family, but she was my second cousin, and very closely tied to House Tyrell and I in truth, giving him the benefit of family, while providing him a position of real power.

I had not actually talked to grandmother about this, and to be honest, it might be a sloppy move that could blow in my face. At the same time, knowing what I knew. I could not do nothing, and Grandmother wasn't going to live forever and clean up all of my messes, which meant that I needed to be proactive now. Thus, the only way I could ensure it would happen was to get Theon onboard to supersede his Father's will, and that meant a conversation with the erstwhile Greyjoy heir.


"Theon?"

"Ah, Lady Margaery!" Theon replied in surprise. "What brings you to visit me? I had thought you were planning on tending to Robb."

A sad silence fell over the both of us; Theon, thinking of his unconscious best friend, and me, thinking about my husband.

"Maester Luwin is doing everything he can, and his condition is improving little by little. I am certain Robb will wake up soon." I said, fervently. It had to be the truth. The alternative was unthinkable.

"Good. That's...good to hear, Lady Margaery. All of Winterfell is worried about Robb's condition." Theon noted quietly, a departure from the normally carefree boy he seemed to be. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"I...no, not for Robb, specifically, but I think there is something that can be done for the mutual benefit for both of us and for House Stark while we wait." I answered.

Theon raised his eyebrow.

"I, uh...nothing too crazy, but something that would help you, and House Stark, in extension, so I have some questions for you. Do you know what sort of plans your father has for you?" I asked.

Theon's face flashed into a pained grin, but he quickly tried to conceal it as best as he could. "I'm not certain, but I will be eventually called back to the Iron Islands to train for heirship…if Father hasn't already declared Asha heir."

"Oh, that won't do at all!" I exclaimed, exaggeratedly. "You are Theon of House Greyjoy, and the Heir by the laws of the gods and the men to the Iron Islands, and you have every right to the Islands themselves. There must be something Robb and I can do to help."

Theon looked morosely at the ground.

"Father may claim me too much of a Greenlander, and unfit in our cultural traditions, because of the time I have spent up North." Theon muttered quietly. "Even if I am the legitimate heir, Asha has spent more time on the Iron Islands than me."

"Hmm…" I sounded out, pretending to think. "Would a bountiful marriage help out in that regard?"

"No, I would most likely need a rock wife." Theon answered. "Though there are not any real eligible maidens on the Iron Islands, House Greyjoy usually has salt-wives."

"For shame, Theon, salt-wives? Robb has his hands full with me; I cannot imagine what Ironborn men must face with multiple spouses. Why, the cost of dresses alone, and the children - that would be a nightmare!" I pronounced.

"I…" Theon looked away. "It's an outdated practice anyways, my lady. I am not sure what my options would be, if I could not find a salt wife."

"Come now, you are to call me Margaery, you are my lord husband's best friend and practically another sibling!" I implored Theon. "There are plenty of options for a bountiful marriage for you, and you know that Robb and I are fond of you, so of course we would help!"

"I...Drowned God, how exactly? Not many Greenlander ladies would be willing to marry an Ironborn like me." Theon said.

"There are plenty of women who would want to marry an Ironborn like you, especially one as kind, yet powerful, as you; I know for sure of at least one" I said, honey-sweet. "And not only that, she is a close relative of mine, which would allow Robb and you to be related to one another, however distantly."

Theon was taken aback. "Who? Pray tell, Margaery."

I looked at Theon demurely. "My first cousin, Desmera, is looking for a close match. She is of House Redwyne, you see, and even though House Redwyne is known for their Arbor Reds, they are also known for their fleet of ships. So I thought to myself, who did I know that had a powerful claim, as Heir Paramount of the Iron Islands, and who had the expertise to help out House Redwyne? And that was you, Theon. You and Robb would be good-cousins, then, and a part of my family as well."

"Surely there are more eligible bachelors in the Reach, more well suited to the lady Desmera's hand?" Theon asked incredulously.

"Not so, unfortunately. Desmera was originally supposed to be betrothed to Sam Tarly, but unfortunately, Lord Rowan's daughter, that bint, Jeyne Rowan, snatched him up first, to cousin Desmera's anguish, and Uncle Paxter's anger. Despite the offers from other eligible men, Desmera has not been able to find a suitable offer worthy of her house." I gossiped. I let my voice take a bit more of a serious undertone.

"House Greyjoy, though….Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands is a weighty thing, with plenty of riches in Iron, and paired with the combined threat of a united fleet of two Houses, both House Redwyne and House Greyjoy would be formidable indeed."

"I—" Theon stammered.

"Desmera is a beautiful woman, Theon. Freckles and auburn hair, of course, and a beautiful spring rose, to boot. She takes after Aunt Mina very well in facial features, and may even be more beautiful, and definitely more bold than I. And she lives in the Arbor, with it's bounties, and all the Arbor Reds a person could want," I added. "What more could a man truly need?"

"I—could it work?" Theon asked, hastily, breaking out of his stammering fit.

Hook, line, and sinker.

"Why of course! Grandmother is Aunt Mina's mother and aunt to Uncle Paxter as well. I could see what I could do, as a daughter to House Tyrell, but…" I purposely adopted an affect of tearfulness to sell the act further, "I only want what is best for you, as Robb's best friend, and practically a sibling to me, Theon. Is that something you would like?"

Theon nodded frantically. I smiled at him, pleased by this turn of events.

"Great! I will most certainly write a letter to grandmother and let you know what occurs." I exclaimed. "Now, let us go visit Robb and see how he is doing. His state is certainly improving, but I worry for him, you know…."


A week had passed from my conversation with Theon, as I spent my time morosely waiting for Robb to wake up. His pallor had lightened with every day, and Maester Luwin had been cautiously hopeful that Robb was to wake within the week. News from the South had been steadily trickling in as we waited, and there was no sign that Joffrey, or any other members of House Stark traveling to King's Landing knew of Robb's coma, meaning that there had been no assassins sent after Robb. Not only that, the gossip about Robb's coma had begun to die down, with the announcement that Mikken would be receiving a new apprentice under the direction of Lord Stark, traveling up from King's Landing to Winterfell.

The more interesting piece of information though, was the death of the now Actually Late Lord Walder Frey, and the subsequent Frey Civil War that seemed to have broken out in the process, delaying the King's Party for another fortnight. What news I heard from the gossiping servants, and my good-father's hastily penned letter to Winterfell was certainly not pretty: it seemed as though Lord Walder had never actually set up a chain of succession, or assumed, at least, that the chain of succession would accommodate his plentiful brood. Those resentments seemed to carry over into all out warfare, which was certainly not surprising to me, but either way, by the end of the conflict, House Frey would simply be too devastated to truly play a role in any of the future conflicts that would occur.

I had decided to check the Rookery for letters, knowing that my grandmother would send me a letter at any point now with her progress, and her plans for the future, and sure enough, a black raven swooped into my hand with a letter attached to its talons. Interestingly enough, Grandmother had used the written form of a secret Tyrell code, known only to main branch Tyrell members, to communicate to me, indicating that there were subterfuge and hidden plots at work. I wasted no time rushing to my room. Once the coast was clear, and the doors secured, I opened the letter.

Little Rose,

I have taken a few steps to secure our House after the illuminating conversation we had before you were wedded and bedded.

First, the old rat has been exterminated, and if the Gods have any sense, the other rats will feast on one another before they dare to go toe-to-toe with the Wolf or the Rose. The rats will be too weakened to dare dream of betrayal when the winds of winter blow.

Second, the flayed man has been fruitlessly searching for his son. Bandits were happily willing to "intercept" his son, as well as the poor company held, and all have been slain in the process. Never leave loose ends opened, girl, it will catch you unawares in the end.

Third, I have made steps to assist your good-father with his investigation, and have taken a few of the King's blood as insurance against the Queen. You will know one of them: a young stag, headed to the wolf's den as of right now. Your good-father will have his insurance, and the knightly rose has been explicitly instructed to flee with the lesser stag at the first opportunity. He will, as assured by the rose, deliver the Stormlands, and the Pack, safe in our gardens.

Certain complications have occurred, however. The enunch is simply too slippery and too powerful to be removed, and it is possible that he is aware of my plots, and is only allowing it to further stabilize the realm in the conflict that follows. The mockingbird is a similarly slippery foe, though the trap will close on the mockingjay soon enough, as he is not particularly well-liked in this realm. Finally, do not toy with the lion. They are encircled, but they are still dangerous.

Your oaf of a father refuses to secure the Reach through a betrothal between our rose and the huntress, claiming insult to the King, and that a Lord of the Reach needs a lady of similar stock. I have agreed on that notion, but have asked him to privately revisit these manners in the future, at another, more secure time. Your father is suspicious, little rose, but he is not stupid. He will not breathe a word of this to anyone, not even your mother. What suggestions do you have?

The dragons also deliver word - they have agreed to the proposal, and thus, a rose in the sun may sit on the Throne one day. I am uncertain of this dragon's inclinations or legitimacy, though a few options have been proposed to the dragon. Mayhaps a union of dragons (something I have personally suggested), another sun-kissed dragon, or, to my surprise, a union of fire and ice. Regardless, we are growing strong, and will not commit too hastily in the face of opportunity or danger.

Keep me updated posthaste,

This letter did not seem particularly subtle for grandmother, but it was clear she had not meant for anyone to intercept this letter, or at least, assumed that nobody would be able to break the Tyrell code. However, it's contents though...there were plenty of implications.

First, Grandmother had sped Walder Frey's death along to specifically destabilize House Frey, and it seemed as though she was perfectly willing to allow the house to die out in the wars that would follow. That was...very good; it would secure house Tully's claim while giving us one less possible enemy in the coming wars.

Secondly, Ramsay was dead, and it was up to me to get rid of Roose Bolton and watch for Domeric's sanity to ensure Arya's safety, and House Bolton's power. I had absolutely no intention of allowing the Bolton-Stark marriage to go through if Arya's children would seek to oust mine own from Winterfell a generation later. Either way, Domeric would obey his liege lord.

Third, the other actors in the game were untouchable, save for Littlefinger, who was being encircled in a Tyrell-made trap. Perhaps in the chaos of the war, he could suddenly be killed, but either way, it reminded me that Grandmother wasn't the best actor in the Game, and that caution would have to be kept with the uncertainty ahead.

Grandmother had certainly taken steps to secure King's Landing though. I suspected that the investigations my good-father would be undertaking would be even faster than in canon, leading roughly to the same timeline, which made sense, as the Others would be at their peak in about 1-2 years. It would be better to secure the throne now rather than later, and with the secret band of alliances, it was possible we could clean up this realm much faster.

Fourth, the future of House Tyrell remained shaky. I had personally wanted to marry Sansa to Garlan once their respective betrothals were broken, as they were similarly well-matched, but Grandmother had a point about securing the realm. Father, as ambitious as he was, would certainly like that offer, and it seemed as though he did not suspect anything about the coming storm, and he would likely prioritize ambitious moves.

To be honest, it wasn't necessarily a bad idea - his generations's unions of Hightower, Redwyne, and Tyrell secured the most powerful houses of the Reach outside of House Florent (who were our enemies, anyways), and so the only really powerful Houses we needed were the Rowans and the Tarly, and if Loras married Talla, we would still have the advantage of a powerful match that would bind the houses of the Reach together while still ensuring that we would have a strong hand for a future move. Daenerys would never consent to marrying Garlan, and to be honest, he needed a strong Lady Tyrell. Even if Sansa and Garlan's union would do the same thing as Robb and I's, Sansa would be a good Lady Tyrell besides, and of noble Stark blood. House Tyrell would need the expertise of Stark blood to survive the Long Night, even if I was already married to Robb, and Sansa would do that very nicely.

Finally, the dragons were beginning to mobilize. I hoped for an Aegon/Daenerys match, with Aegon truly ferrying his aunt to Westeros to unite the realm in time, but I wasn't surprised - Prince Doran clearly had his own personal agenda, and wanted a match with the Martells, to safeguard against the possibility of an illegitimate king, and to push his claim, but considering that Aegon agreed to have his future son marry Willas and Arianne's future daughter, it would be kind of redundant. Aegon and Sansa as a match had merit as well, looking good on paper, but with Daenerys and her three dragons, Sansa would likely become barbeque if she was married to Aegon in the ensuing struggle, and I wanted to avoid that eventuality as best as possible. Knowing Westeros though, there would be stupidity, and I was determined to avoid it as much as I could.

I began to write my response with the same secret code, on another sheet of paper.

"Grandmother…"

Suddenly, the sound of commotion filled my ears and I suddenly heard the knocking on my door.

"Margaery! Robb's awake!" I heard Theon shout excitedly.

My quill fell to the ground, forgotten, as I stood up and grabbed my skirts, rushing out of the door. He was awake! He was hale and hearty! The ink bottle spilled onto the table in my haste to get out, but I could hardly care.

And so I rushed to Robb's sickroom to see my husband, yet again.


Ending A/N: I hope you like the chapter! I know there's a lot of alliance-building and planning in the chapter, but keep in mind that Margaery, Olenna, and Bloodraven know that shit (i.e the Realm) is about to explode when King Robert dies, which is why they're rushing to get their stage ready before chaos breaks out like any prepared actor would. Let me know if you think Garlan needs an external marriage or an internal marriage in the Reach, and what you think of Margaery's latest plans!