Hello my lovelies... here is the chapter with the repercussions of the recent developments. Thank you so much for all your wonderful feedback! Hope you enjoy!
„My Lord, I… I think we should start?" tiny, fat and timid Mace Tyrell suggested with a slight stutter. Tywin Lannister gave him a sideward glance that made the smaller man's eyes widen and shoulders slump. It was out of character for Cersei to be late to a small council meeting, but he was not going to start discussing this bloody wedding without her present. His brother Kevan shifted in his seat and raised an eyebrow at him. Tywin knew he was thinking the same thing.
"Maybe, in the meantime, we can discuss something else. Something that does not involve the lovely Cersei," Oberyn Martell piped up from his left. He was also slumped in his seat, but on the contrary to Mace Tyrell, he looked at ease. Tywin never thought that the Small Council seat that was offered to Dorne would actually be accepted, much less by the Red Viper himself. He knew that every second they spent in the same room, his hatred for him and his family grew larger. Alas, he had not figured out what the Martell's End Game was.
"What matter does Dorne have to bring to the small council?" Tywin asked in a steady tone of voice. He would not let the Prince's blasé attitude get to him.
"Actually, this does not only involve Dorne, am I right, Lord Tyrell?" the Red Viper said and his gaze rested on the Lord of Highgarden, who finally straightened in his seat.
"Yes, in fact, and I hope the Crown forgives us for making this arrangement so quickly, but you see, I think it really would be a wonderful alliance, given all the history, and the bad blood…," he started talking way too fast and stumbling over his own words.
"What alliance are you talking about?" Tywin cut in, impatient with the ramblings of a lesser man than him.
"Oh, right, you see, the generous Prince Oberyn here brought it before me some days ago, and I have to say..:" he started explaining again when Oberyn cut in.
"I will marry the Lady Samaya. Lord Tyrell has agreed, now all we need is the Crown's blessing," he said matter-of-factly. The table grew quiet. The sly Spider was trying to mask a grin, and Lord Pycelle looked baffled. Kevan let out a little snort.
"I have to say, this comes as a surprise, Prince Oberyn. I thought you would never marry, least of all a girl from the Reach," Tywin finally commented after taking a careful look at Oberyn's face. Like always, he could not read him.
"Neither did I, but the girl has grown on me, and Dorne thinks it time for another alliance. Hopefully, it will end better than the last," he added with a sly, but threatening smile.
"And how did the girl take it? I have to say, she did not seem the… marrying kind," Kevan Lannister commented, sending Mace Tyrell in a huff and puff. Oberyn turned his head, showing the side that was facing the door, which revealed a colourful black eye.
"She did not see it coming, but after fists and words were thrown around, she agreed," he chuckled at the memory.
"Well then… if all parties are willing, the Crown gives its blessing. However, if the wedding will be held here, do not expect that we pay for it as well," Tywin concluded in a stern voice.
"That will not be a problem, I assure you, Lord Tywin," Mace Tyrell was eager to assure him. He hated it when the little man threw his wealth around, but this time, it did no harm.
"What will not be a problem?" a voice piped up from the door and the six men looked up to see Cersei gliding into to room. "Apologies for my delay, I had some urgent matters to attend."
"You are excused, but next time, attend to them outside of council meeting sessions," Tywin gave her a scolding look.
"What did I miss?" she said, ignoring his gaze and sitting down at the other head of the table.
"Prince Oberyn has just informed the Crown of his upcoming wedding to the Lady Samaya Tyrell. The Crown has blessed this union and moves on to the next item on the agenda: the other Tyrell wedding," Tywin stated, ignoring the furious look that swept over Cersei's face. He had no interest in discussing her hatred of the Tyrells, and quickly moved on.
Cersei, however, was fuming. Her father obviously did not understand what significance this held. The Tyrells were allying themselves with the most powerful families in Westeros, to which end she could only guess… domination.
Margaery Tyrell had a wonderful morning so far. She woke up to bright sunshine, picked one of her favourite dresses to wear, and then made her way down into the gardens, surrounded by her ever so delightful handmaidens. Wherever the little group went, appreciative gazes followed. Nothing could darker her mood today, so much was sure.
Shortly after she had taken a place on the lavishly decorated table, she saw her grandmother approaching. She was in company of her two household guards, which she had aptly named left and right. Margaery sometimes wondered if they ever switched sides and silently delighted in the fact that she did not notice. But then, if there was one thing one should never do when dealing with Olenna Tyrell was to underestimate her. Her grandmother's mind was still as sharp as it always had been.
Today, she was wearing a sly smile, something unusual on her face, and Margaery wondered why. Most likely, one of her plans had blossomed. She sighed and took a sip of her wine. Maybe this time, she would be told that plan as well.
"My darling Margaery, it is good to see you so radiant," the older woman said as she gave her a kiss and sat down. The sweet words disguised an accusation, though; one that Margaery could easily put to rest.
"You can rest easy, grandmamma, I am not with child. You know I am saving myself for marriage," she told her.
"That's not what that smith's apprentice told me two seasons ago," her grandmother commented dryly, making Margaery choke on piece of bread she was just taking a bite of. How was it that whenever she thought there were no more surprises, the older woman revealed a titbit of information she never thought was even in her knowledge?
Defeated, Margaery bowed her head and sighed. Silent chuckles were shaking her shoulders. No mummer's play could ever outdo the hilarity that was Olenna Tyrell.
"Have you seen your sister today?" she asked her.
"No, not yet. I thought she was supposed to break fast with us?" Margaery answered, wondering where Sam could be. Olenna's face was graced by that sly smile again, alerting her granddaughter. "Grandmamma, what have you done?" she asked.
"About time," the older woman pointed her chin in the direction of the castle, where Margaery's older sister appeared around a corner. She had to stifle a laugh. Not only did she almost trip over her lavish gown, but she looked amusingly angry. With quick steps, she thundered towards them, her hands balled into fists at her side, and her face a frown. She would be intimidated if there were not a small kitten following on her heels. She could hear it meowing loudly. Sam blinked, stopped in her stride, and picked the little animal up. Once nestled safely in her arms, she continued her march.
"I was wondering whether you took off during the night. Alas, you stayed. I am pleased," her grandmother said casually as Sam reached the table and sat down, putting the kitten into her lap.
"Hmpf," was the only answer she got. Green eyes shining with anger, the girl reached for her wine glass and emptied it in one, long gulp.
"Sam… where does the kitten come from?" Margaery had to ask.
"It's Prince Tommen's. I found him last night and returned him, but he's grown very attached," her sister explained, resting her hand on the small animal's head. Margaery smiled. Back in Highgarden, her siblings secretly called Sam 'Mother of Cats'… wherever she went, they seemed to follow her, especially as a child.
"Enough with talk about cats, Margaery dear, you will be pleased to hear that your sister became engaged recently. Of course, the wedding will be after…" Olenna Tyrell cut in, but did not get far as Margaery's excited shriek rang through the gardens. She got up quickly and gave her sister an awkward hug. Samaya, she noticed, did not move, nor seemed excited.
"I am so happy for you, dear sister! Oh, what a day! I knew it would be a good one as soon as I opened my eyes this morning! This is exciting! When will the wedding take place? Oh, and more importantly, who is your husband to be?" she asked really fast, bouncing with joy. Samaya shot a deadly glare at her grandmother, but remained silent.
"Samaya will marry Prince Oberyn of the House Martell," the older woman stated. Margaery's eyes widened and she looked at her sister, who remained impassive, stroking the little kitten repeatedly.
"Martell? I thought they hated us!" Margaery said quietly, sitting back down.
"He has taken a liking to Sam, and it is in our House's best interest. Allied to both Lannister and Martell can only give us advantages," Olenna answered her in the same tone. Samaya on the other hand seemed disinterested by their whole conversation. Olenna noticed Margaery's confusion and waved a hand nonchalantly at the older girl.
"Do not mind her, she is mad at me. Did not see it coming, apparently," she explained.
"Did not see it coming? Grandmamma, I punched him when he told me!" Samaya finally started talking, holding up her left hand, which was slightly bruised.
"And I saw the result of that, well done, darling. It's best he knows early on he can not control a Tyrell woman," Olenna praised her with a wicked grin. Samaya groaned and slouched back in her seat.
"You have asked me many times if I ever wish to marry, and I have never told you yes. Yet you go off and make arrangements without my consent," Samaya said accusingly. Olenna stared at her, and Margaery feared she had gone too far.
"I see all these travels have made you forget your place, Samaya. I am the oldest member of this House, and you will damn well do what I tell you to," the old woman spat out. The mood at the table had suddenly changed drastically.
"I have seen enough blood, tears and loss to serve me three lifetimes, and you, of all people, will not berate me! What hardships have you two ever had to face? Last fireplum you ate was a little too sweet? New gown a little itchy? This is enough now! We are building a future here for Highgarden, and when they look back on us many moons from now, the history books will not read 'two spoiled girls who refused to marry', but 'that was the time House Tyrell became the most influential in Westeros'!"
Silence ensued. Margaery looked down into her lap. She did not want to marry the monster Joffrey, but her grandmother spoke the truth. If there was anything she had to do in this life, it was to follow her rules and ensure the survival of their house. After a few moments, she looked up at her sister to find her staring at their grandmother with tears in her eyes. She looked determined. Silently, she started speaking.
"How dare you insult me like this after everything you have done? I have never asked for any part in your plans, but that does not keep you from playing with me like a doll. This will be the last thing I ever do for House Tyrell, trust me. You can ship me off to Dorne and forget I ever existed for all I care," she said with menace in her voice before she got up and left hurriedly. Margaery was shocked and confused. She had never seen her sister like this, her words made no sense to her. Questioningly, she looked at her grandmother only to see that she had tears in her eyes as well.
"Grandmamma… what does she mean?" Margery asked carefully. The old woman sighed loudly and turned to her after a few moments.
"I fear I have pushed your sister too far."
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