Margaery stood at the window, looking out over the rooftops of Braavos. The sky was a dull grey and a drizzle of rain further obscured her view; but the Titan was still visible. She thought back to the day of their arrival when they had seen the wonder close at hand. Tyrion had been open mouthed and transfixed. Margaery herself had been impressed by the colossal structure but as she had squeezed Tyrion's hand firmly until he finally turned his head to her with an expression of pure delight, she had been aware that what made the moment memorable for her was being there with the man she loved and sharing the spectacle with him.
It had been raining that day too. It rained frequently in Braavos. Margaery would have expected that exposure to a climate so different from that of her beloved Highgarden would have made her feel dull and dreary, but in truth she felt joyous. She had never dreamed that she would travel beyond Westeros any more than she had imagined she would marry for love; the gods must truly laugh when people make plans. Margaery was practical by nature and, as a young girl, had been content to focus her attention on learning which would be of use to her when she became a great lady, or even queen. She had never given much thought to pursuing knowledge for its own sake and was aware that such studiousness was not considered desirable in a young lady. At the same time, she was intelligent and was finding that this visit to Braavos, with its varied sights, experiences and cultures exhilarating. Of course, there was also much delight in being with Tyrion, even if they did not have quite such exclusive access to each other as they had enjoyed during the sea voyage.
"My heart, much as I enjoy gazing upon your heavenly form, I feel I must humbly beg that you return to my bed at once so I can enjoy more than just gazing."
A smirk rose to her lips as she turned toward the bed. Tyrion had raised himself up on one elbow and was grinning at her mischievously, his hair still tousled from sleep. She walked slowly and elegantly toward him, her hands loosening the belt of the green silk robe she wore. She reached the bed and dropped the garment completely, his eyes raking hungrily over her naked form serving to heighten her arousal. With supple grace, she slipped onto the bed beside him and placed her hands on on his shoulders.
"How long do we have, my love?"
"Long enough."
Tyrion placed several deep kisses along her collarbone before giving a huff of laugher.
"Well, we never have long enough."
"This is true, even the weeks on the ship have done little to sate my desire for you, husband, I'm afraid you have an insatiable wife."
"That is my burden to bear."
Tyrion's jape ended in a low growl as Margaery ran her fingers lightly over his balls giving them the slightest squeeze. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and sucked hard at the point where it joined her shoulder. Margaery gasped as she felt shivers of pleasure course through her. She moved one hand to his member, gently stroking the head, the other she trailed lightly up and down his spine. soon his teeth where on her earlobe, his hand lightly stroking her neck and shoulders, drawing her flesh to goosebumps. He murmured endearments between his playful nips, sighing happily as she planted kissed on his neck and jaw. As his hips began to buck at her taunting touch, she fixed him with a smouldering stare and guided him inside of her, leaning on top of him, supporting herself with her hands. he pulled her into a long, passionate kiss and together they tumbled on the bed until Tyrion was atop his wife. Holding her gaze, he thrust himself into her, slowly and deeply, pulling back until he was nearly out before repeating the action. Margaery made no effort to stop the moans which escaped her lips and as her husband's movements became faster, she gave herself up to a climax; crying out his name as he flopped against her, declarations of love on his lips.
They remained in an embrace for several minutes, then the contented silence of the bedchamber was punctuated by a tentative know at the door.
"Breakfast, Lord Tyrion."
Tyrion grinned at Margaery
"Very well Podrick, give us a minute or two."
They rose from their bed and donned small clothes and robes before making their way to the room next door where they took their meals. Very early in their sea voyage Podrick and Margaery's handmaiden had learned to be cautious about entering the couple's bed chamber without due warning. Margaery smiled at the lad as he deposited the breakfast things. Tyrion climbed into he chair opposite her.
"What are your plans for the day, wife?"
"Tycho Nestoris's wife has invited me to lunch with her and some of her friends. After that I think I shall take a walk around the Purple Harbour. You don't mind if Bronn accompanies me today do you?"
"Not at all, much as I despise Meryn Trant, I would far rather endure him than subject you to his presence. If father was so adamant we have a Kingsgaurd with us, why could he not send Loras?"
"Having your good brother stand guard on your bedchamber would not have dampened your ardour, my love?"
"I cannot think of much which would dampen my ardour where you are concerned, sweetling."
Margaery returned his smirk as she buttered a slice of bread.
"I think there will be a number of high ranking merchant's wives at lunch today. Let us hope they enjoy the wine and produce I have to gift them with."
When she had found out Tyrion and Margaery were journeying to Braavos, Olenna Tyrell had seen to it that their ship contained samples of the finest delicacies of the Reach. The Queen of Thorns had rightly guessed that Margaery would have ample opportunities to meet and charm the wives of the city's guild leaders and could use the visit as a way to encourage even greater trade between the Reach and the merchants of Braavos.
"I have no doubt they will be well received, even if they have mouldered on the voyage, you could charm the birds from the trees, wife."
Margaery gave a mock bow of her head, acknowledging the compliment.
"Let us hope your silver tongue also stands you in good stead at the Iron Bank."
Tyrion smiled but she could see he was apprehensive. Following discussions between Tywin Lannister and the Tyrells, her husband did have an amount of gold to return to the bank. But it was less than a tenth of the crown's total debt. Mace Tyrell had protested that he could easily afford to provide more but Tywin had dismissed this out of hand. Margaery could see that despite her marriage to Tyrion, the Lannister patriarch still saw her family as a potential threat to his power. But this was not fore most in her mind today, she touched Tyrion's hand.
"Do you think they will be able to provide you with their records of the loans made to the Crown?"
"I don't see why not, there is always a chance they were complicit in Littlefinger's schemes but I do not think that likely."
After much pouring over the crown ledgers, Tyrion had come to the conclusion that Littlefinger must have been purposely running up greater debts than required. Why he should have taken such a course of action was not clear; his brothels had easily made him more money than he could ever spend. Tyrion was going to try and obtain copies of the Iron Bank's records of the Crown's debts in the hope that these would give him a clearer picture of what Baelish had been up to.
Her husband pushed away his plate and jumped out of his chair, walking to her side and kissing her cheek.
"I shall wash myself, then dress and depart. I hope you have a pleasant day, my love."
"And you, husband. Whatever the outcome of your meeting be assured I shall reward you for your endeavours when we meet again."
Margaery smirked, enjoying the way Tyrion's eyes sparkled and flicked over her person as she spoke. She met his lips in a brief kiss, then allowed him to depart to ready himself for the day.
Tyrion sat in the hard, marble chair trying to ignore the growing ache at the base of his spine. The three bankers opposite him all sat on cushioned chairs. Tycho Nestoris smiled at him: Tyrion had seen enough false smiles to be able to recognise one without difficulty.
"Gentlemen, I trust that the payment of gold my ship brought has been transported to the bank in full?"
"It would appear so, Lord Tyrion, however it is far less than the sum we asked for."
"I am sure you can appreciate that King Tommen is wary of sending large amounts of gold by ship. Thankfully the war of five kings is at an end, but this does not mean the seas are free of pirates."
"You say the war is over, yet Stannis Baratheon still lives."
"He does for now, however we have had reports he has chosen to take his armies to the Wall. Winter is all but upon us in Westeros, and while Stannis is a seasoned commander, he is not used to that harsh climate any more than the men he commands are. I can only assume that having exhausted every other avenue he seeks support from the Northern Lords. I am sure I do not have to tell you gentlemen that such support will not be forthcoming. Any in the North who do not support the Boltons, remain loyal to House Stark. The last living Stark is married to my brother. I fear the Iron Bank will very likely loose the investment it made in Stannis Baratheon."
Tyrion noticed their almost imperceptible glances; so they had financed the Baratheon cause, he wondered how the fanatical prig had managed to convince them. Nestoris smiled once more.
"If what you say is true then you should be able to repay your debts to us quickly, my Lord. I have no doubt your father will support his grandson's throne, it is not as if there is a lack of gold in Casterly Rock."
The banker's laughed discreetly. Tyrion joined in, wondering if they somehow knew. Jaime had spoken to him before Tyrion and Margaery had left the Rock. It seemed the gold mines were not yielding as they once had. His mind working, he spoke again:
"Indeed there is not. However, there is a question of time, which I hope you will give to us. King Tommen's throne is stable, he has the backing of House Lannister and House Tyrell, I am sure you agree it is in all our interests that Westeros remains peaceful and prosperous."
"I can certainly see it is in your interest, Lord Tyrion, the Iron Bank only concerns itself with investments. If King Tommen is not in a position to honour his debts, we may need to invest elsewhere."
Tyrion held the banker's gaze for a moment.
"During my time here, I have heard much talk of Daeneyrs Targaryen. Although more often she is called other things. 'Mother of Dragons', 'Breaker of Chains'. How has trade been with Mereen since she freed all the slaves there?'
Nestoris' smile dropped.
"We do not have slaves in Braavos, Lord Tyrion."
"Nor do we in Westeros. But in most of Essos slave labour is used and it seems the Mother of Dragons takes issue with this. Now, if she was to… receive outside assistance, who could say whether she would use it to bring her dragons to Westeros or whether she would spend more time breaking chains. In any case, despite not keeping slaves, the Westerosi do depend on small folk to harvest our crops and tend our livestock. Who is to say Daeneyrs Targaryen would not want to disrupt this too?"
As Tyrion spoke he watched the three men closely. He could see he was voicing concerns they already had. This relieved him immensely; if the Iron Bank was loathe to fund the Targaryen girl, then they were all the more likely to look favourably on what was now Tommen's debt. They had not answered the last question he posed so he spoke again:
"Gentlemen, as pleasant as our time together is, I have no doubt you are all busy. Shall we proceed to the details of my proposal for repayment of the loan?"
Margaery walked through the bustling harbour area, Bronn and Rosa beside her. She had enjoyed her lunch with the Bravosi women enormously. The Isle's inhabitants, came from a multitude of cultures and backgrounds and the women she had met were far more engaging company than the simpering maids all too often found at court in King's Landing. Margaery was also satisfied with how the wine and preserved fruits of the Reach had been received. Such things were already sold in Braavos but Margaery knew if these women could be persuaded to purchase greater quantities, and to discuss the items with their mercantile spouses, this trade could be increased. As she had expected the women she met had similar ideas about the items their husbands' traded in and she had agreed to return to Westeros with recommendations for the ladies of court and for her own good sisters I can only imagine how Cersei would react to a recommendation from me, burn the item like as not.
"Oysters, Clams, Cockles!"
The shout caught Margaery's attention and she looked over to see a small, slight girl with brown hair, holding a tray of shellfish before her. She took Rosa's arm.
"Come, I want to buy some oysters for Tyrion."
Margaery approached the girl, asking the price of her wares. Bronn appeared behind them with a snigger.
"Of course, you know what they say about oysters, m'lady?"
Margaery looked at him with an innocent expression.
"Yes, that they are very nourishing. I am not accustomed to shellfish but Tyrion ate them frequently as a boy. I know that Maester Creylan has advised Lady Sansa to eat them daily once she gives birth to help her regain her strength. I have no doubt Ser Jaime will have the rocks at Lannisport stripped bare if his wife takes a fancy to them!"
Margaery turned her head back to the oyster seller and was taken aback to see the young girl staring at her, with a fierce frown. The girl caught Margaery's eye and quickly her face became devoid of expression.
"Please, m'lady, are you wanting these for your evening meal? If you tell me where to find you, I can deliver some fresh."
Margaery smiled her agreement. She gave directions to the rooms she and Tyrion were being accommodated in, and a price and time was agreed. Then Margaery and her escorts moved on through the harbour, not seeing the oyster seller scamper quickly away.
Tyrion opened the door to the suite of rooms his party had been given the use of while in Braavos, and turned turned to Podrick who was standing behind him.
"Fetch me some water to wash with, Pod. You can bring it to the sitting room."
His squire nodded and departed for the kitchens. Mercifully, Trant had parted ways with them shortly after they left the bank, off on his own pursuits. Tyrion grimaced to himself. He was not in a position to judge any man for frequenting brothels but, if Bronn was to be believed, the kingsguard had a preference for extremely young girls and for brutality.
Rather than dwell on what the odious knight might be doing at that moment, Tyrion made his way to the sitting room, where, as he had hoped, he found his wife. Margaery stood and approached him, a loving smile on her face, then dropped to her knees and pulled him into a kiss. She proceeded to unfasten the cloak he had been wearing and placed it over a chair near the door.
"Would you like some wine, my love? I hope the bankers were not too tedious."
"My wife is a hopeful woman. Please, pour me a small glass."
She moved to the jug on the sideboard and he watched her graceful steps. Newly married as he was, Tyrion found he derived an absurd amount of joy from such mundane displays of care from Margaery. His wife could inflame him to greater lusts than any other woman he had laid eyes on, but it was these simple, natural displays of affection which reminded him again and again that they were in a loving marriage and that he now held something he would previously never have dared to dream of. He thought back to the moment he realised he was in love with Margaery; when he had acknowledged to himself that had she asked him to flee Joffrey with her, he would have done so without a moment's hesitation. He fleetingly wished they could remain here forever, without smirking courtiers and mocking stares. He thought of what his father had done to Tysha and Cersei's threats against Shae. He started when his wife handed him a glass.
"Where has your mind wandered too, love?"
"I was thinking, let us not sail back to Westeros. When we depart Braavos, I think I would prefer to keep you on the ship, so I can have you all to myself."
Margaery's eyes sparkled.
"Shall we become pirates? You would make a very handsome pirate, Captain Lannister."
He returned her grin, but Podrick's appearance with the water, prevented him from responding more fully. As he cleaned his hands and face, he recounted the day's negotiations at the bank.
"Nestrosi makes my father seem like a soft touch! I am having to fight for every minor concession I gain and I can tell already it will not add up to much."
"Do they seem favourable to the plan you have presented?"
"They give very little away, but they have not dismissed it out of hand. How went your day, my love?"
"Rather well, I think Lord Redwyne will be well disposed towards us when he sees increased orders for Arbour Gold from the merchants of Braavos. Tell me, do your cousins have any fondness for Myrish lace?"
"I am sure Myrell and Cerenna do, Daven I think will not and I am never quite sure about Lancel…"
He smiled at her, walking across the room to take her hand.
"Of course, none of them could look so well in the fabric as you do, my love, particularly that night gown you have which consists of very little else…"
Margaery smirked at him before turning to Pod, who was hurriedly departing, spilling water on the floor.
"You do not need to rush, Podrick, Lord Tyrion and I are not about to be improper. Oh! I ordered some oysters in the market today, the seller should be here with them soon."
"Yes, M'lady"
The squire bowed his head and exited, at a marginally slower speed. Tyrion grinned up at his wife.
"Oysters? You do know what they say about oysters, wife?"
"I am afraid Bronn has beaten you to that particular joke, dear."
"I do not believe I made a joke. I was simply complimenting you on a nourishing choice."
Margaery raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Tyrion took a deep draft of his wine and exhaled in satisfaction.
"I am glad you have not given all the best vintages to your new friends. Now I am moderating my consumption, I am all the more particular about quality."
"Do you only apply this rule to wine?"
He could tell his wife enjoyed the way his eyes raked over her by the satisfied grin that came to her lips. She was so perfect and far more than he deserved. He thought of how already he could not imagine his life without her beside him and about the absurd amount of luck it had taken to bring about their marriage. He felt uneasy thinking about how quickly luck could change.
"Gods, Margaery, but I love you. I do not know what I would do without you."
His wife smiled at him warmly.
"I would not worry about that, my love. I know you fear Cersei may do me harm. I am on my guard against her, I have even taken some practical measures."
Tyrion looked at his wife in interest. Margaery smiled.
"Before we left Westeros, I spoke with my grandmother about sending me some new handmaidens. Rosa and the others who serve me now will be sent to Cersei, grandmother spoke to Lord Tywin and he agreed the proposal. He is not keen to see your sister disgrace herself with anymore foolish plots, we will be able to keep a very close eye upon her."
"You clever creature. I am so glad we are married, I would not like to have you as an enemy."
There was a knock on the door and Podrick entered, carrying plates for supper. Behind him stood a small girl with a platter of oysters. Tyrion noticed the lad murmur to her kindly: "I said you could've knocked and gone in." His squire entered and made for the room's small dining table. Margaery smiled at Pod.
"What plans have you this evening, Podrick?"
"Um, Ser Bronn wishes to take me to…a place, m'lady."
"'A place'? how intriguing!"
Tyrion threw his squire a kindly look.
"Go with him, Podrick, just do not let me hear either of you have been in the company of Meryn Trant!"
"No, m'lord."
Podrick spoke emphatically. Margaery moved to the girl at the door and gave her the sum of money owed for the oysters and the pair departed.
Later that night, Tyrion lay in his wife's arms, deliciously satisfied and drifitng towards sleep. His tranquilty was shatter by pounding on his door and Bronn's voice:
"You better wake the fuck up! Trant's been butchered!"