My mother's day treat this weekend was to get to write a chapter early :)
In the books, Daven Lannister's betrothal to Desmera Redwyne is shelved in favour of marrying to a Frey as part of the Red Wedding deal, but we're ignoring that.
I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and thanks for following, favouriting or reviewing the fic.
As Margaery's eyes opened she became aware of a cramping pain in her lower abdomen and a feeling of stickiness between her legs. She rose from her bed and made her way to the small room equipped with a wash stand and chamber pot where she confirmed that her monthly bleeding was upon her. Margaery cursed under her breath; part of her had been hoping to find herself with child ever since the tryst she enjoyed with Tyrion before their wedding. As a young girl she had not been greatly interested in tending to dolls and as she grew older, when relations and banner men brought babes to Highgarden on visits, she had cooed and cuddled as expected more due to propriety than any strong maternal feelings. Margaery knew that when she had her own children she would love them, and she was even more convinced of this now that those children would have Tyrion for a father, but her current frustration was largely practical. Bearing a child would allow her to secure her position; a son who could be sent to squire at Horn Hill or the Abour or a daughter who could someday be betrothed into a powerful house. Margaery was no fool and she was well aware that all her beauty, charm and wit would amount to little if she was not able to produce a child.
Having performed her ablutions, she returned to the bedchamber to find her husband awake. Tyrion sat up in bed, his smile dropping as he took in his wife's tense demeanour.
"What troubles you, my lady?"
"My red flower is blooming."
Margaery forced out the uncharacteristically girlish phrase. Tyrion sat in silence, a hesitant expression on his face. Margery knew very well why her husband was unsure how he should react to the news. In her mind she cursed Tywin and Cersei for placing a burden on Tyrion's shoulders that was not his to bear. She gave him a small smile.
"We shall just have to try harder next month."
Tyrion reached for his wife's hand and gently pulled her into a sitting position on the bed. He then knelt behind her and began rubbing small circles across her lower back, knowing she found the action soothing. Margaery closed her eyes, loosing herself to his comforting touch. How did I ever imagine this was something I could live without? Neither Renly or Joffrey would have been loving husbands, Margaery had known that, in truth neither of them would have been passionate husbands either, but in time, passion could be sought elsewhere. She knew very well that had she not been Tyrion's bride, she would almost certainly never have found this tender intimacy within a marriage and even the perceived loss of it, caused her a pang of regret. She felt her husband tense and opened her eyes, surprised to see her youngest handmaiden standing in the room.
"Ana! You startled us!"
"Sorry, Milday, I have brought breakfast for you and Lord Tyrion."
"Very good. Please draw me a bath, whilst we eat and fetch my cloths."
The girl curtsied and left to carry out the tasks, Margery threw Tyrion a loving smile and sighed.
"Time to start the day."
That afternoon, Margaery sat under a pavilion in the Red Keep gardens and observed the ladies around her. Several of her cousins remained, although most had returned to Highgarden with Mace and Olenna. Margaery missed her grandmother's presence in the group and was aware that without the old woman's shrewd observance, she would have to work twice as hard herself. She cast her mind to Sansa's letter, smiling as she remembered its contents. She set her cup down and spoke:
"So, tell me, which among you ladies are accompanying your relations to Casterly Rock for the tourney? I can personally assure you that men of the west make fine husbands."
Her tone was light but her eyes were sharp, she saw several of her companions frown or glance away at her words, but not many; so Lord Tarly's opinion of my marriage is not shared by all. A pleasant looking girl with freckles seated to her right spoke up:
"I shall be accompanying my brothers, coz. My father is keen for my betrothal to Daven Lannister to be finalised."
"I hope you enjoy your time there Desmera. My good sister, Lady Sansa, is very friendly with Ser Daven's sisters. He is a very personable man and I think he would make you a fine husband."
Margaery smiled at the Redwyne girl, thinking back to her own interaction with the young Lannister knight at her wedding. He was the sort of man any father would be glad to see his daughter wed and it was matches such as these that she and Sansa hoped could further strengthen the bonds between the Reach and the Westerlands.
Margaery passed a few pleasant hours in the gardens, ensuring she was fully up to date with the ever shifting court politics and events within the noble families. She plied them with delicacies purchased upon her travels and made arrangements for them to spend more afternoons together, promising that her new bard would be present later in the week. Margaery allowed herself a smirk, she had engaged the services of a singer who had been intended to perform at her wedding to Joffrey, and whom she knew to have talent. In addition to playing and singing, he was composing an original work for her, and she was very keen to hear the results. During the course of her afternoon, the newest Lady Lannister also made sure to extend more intimate invitations to certain ladies, those she asked to ride out with her or to bring their husbands or brothers to dine with herself and Tyrion. The Queen of Thorns had taught her granddaughter the importance of the use of influence and patronage, as well as working towards mutual goals and Margaery knew these skills were just as useful now she was her father's heir as they would have been to her as queen.
The ladies had been attended by another of her new handmaidens; a raven haired beauty of around Margery's age called Jeyne. As the pair made their way to Margaery's apartments a shout stopped them in their tracks.
"My Lady! My Lady! I believe you have dropped this."
Margaery turned to face a handsome looking young noble man, a rose embroidered handkerchief in his outstretched hand. It was indeed one of hers, although she was sure she had not had it upon her person that day.
"Why yes, this does belong to me, I thank you for returning it, Ser?…"
"Ser Harrold Hadyng, at your service. May I be so bold as to guess, from the roses on your kerchief and your great beauty that you are Lady Margaery Tyrell?"
"I was. I recently married Lord Tyrion Lannister."
"Ah yes, I was aware of that my lady."
Margaery met his unabashed stare and wondered what game he played. She had spent nearly half her life reading the looks of men and she could see his interest in her was no more than a passing appreciation of her person. Even if he had not known her name, it was clear enough that she was no serving wench to be flattered into a tumble, yet he made no move to leave, nor had he spared the delectable Jeyne so much as a glance. She gave him a brief, sugary smile.
"I bid you good day, Ser Hardyng."
He took her hand from her side and kissed it.
"Of course, my lady, I hope we shall meet again."
Margaery smiled once more, fervently hoping they did not. There were enough young dolts amongst the banner men of the Reach without contending with those from other kingdoms too.
She returned to her chambers to find her husband seated on the solar couch, reading. She moved towards him, now with a genuine smile on her lips.
"How was the small council, husband?"
He gave her a crooked smile.
"Bigger than when I left. Lord Redwyne has been appointed Master of Ships. I am to accompany him on an inspection of the royal feet later this week. He did not seem too appalled at the prospect."
"He will have much to thank you for when he sees the good condition of the fleet. Stannis could easily have laid waste to it had it not been for you. Besides which, his daughter informs me he is still pursuing a marriage between herself and Daven. "
"My cousin in fortunate he is not to share Lancel's fate of marrying a Frey."
Tyrion and Margaery had both wondered if Lancel was to be called to the Kingsgaurd when Tywin demanded the youth accompany his father to the capital whilst Kevan acted as Hand. Whether this had never been the intention or whether it was a plan which was abandoned they did not know, however, it seemed now that Lancel was to be granted the Lordship of Darry and the hand of Amerie Frey. Margaery removed Tyrion's book from his hands and seated herself upon his lap.
"Was Lord Redwyne the only new addition?"
"Yes, although it would seem Oberyn Martell has been given the position of Master of Laws."
Tyrion frowned.
"A portion of the meeting was taken up with discussion of when Myrcella will wed Trystane Martell. It was suggested that once they are married, they should take possession of Dragonstone."
Margaery raised her brows. With Joffrey dead and his nine year old brother on the throne, Myrcella was heir and she could see the wisdom in making moves to ensure that the teenage princess started a family of her own. On the other hand, such a move would strengthen the Martells and she knew from her husband that Prince Oberyn at least was openly hostile towards house Lannister and Lord Tywin in particular.
"And how did the Red Viper react to this suggestion?"
"He was the one who made it."
Margaery felt as surprised as her husband looked. Until now they had both assumed that Tyrion's niece would remain in Dorne for the foreseeable future, a hostage albeit a well looked after one. She tired to piece things together in her mind.
"Do you think they have hopes to take the crown through Myrcella?"
"Oberyn joked about doing just that soon after Joffrey died. Of course if they declared her queen in Sunspear they would have to fight their way to King's Landing, but the same is true of Dragonstone and there Myrcella is out of their hands. I confess I am not sure what is at the root of it all."
"Was a final decision made?"
"No, I told the prince that we did not have sufficient gold to fund an expedition to take Dragonstone, and suggested that if any such was undertaken, the Dornish would provide the resources. He claimed he would put it to his brother."
"What else was discussed?"
"My negotiations with the Iron Bank although there was little discussion. The new terms were formally agreed and Varys made sure afterwards to tell me what a splendid job I had done."
"I understand that he makes you uneasy, my love, but perhaps it may be worthwhile seeking him out in regards to what Lord Baelish was up to. He is now the only small council member remaining from Littlefinger's tenure and he does seem to know everything."
"Yes he does…"
Tyrion looked into the distance, appearing slightly uneasy. He ran his hands absently along her arms for a few moments then smiled at her warmly.
"Forgive me, I was contemplating the webs the Spider weaves. Was your day pleasant enough?"
"I had an interesting time catching up with the ladies of court. I also had the dubious pleasure of meeting Ser Harrold Hardyng."
"The Young Falcon. And how did you find him?"
"Comely, enough, personable to a point, rather dull."
Tyrion returned her grin but his face quickly became serious.
"He is next in line for the Lordship of the Eyrie and from what I saw of little lord Robert, I would not say it is certain he will sire children of his own. For one thing he seems reluctant to spend the necessary time away from his mother's breast. I wonder what Lord Baelish makes of young Ser Harrold."
"Baelish concerns you much, my love."
"Indeed he does. The key to this game is knowing what galvanises the players. I may not yet be aware what the Martells are up to but I am sure that Oberyn desires revenge for his sister and her children. That gives me somewhere to start. With Baelish I am not sure at all."
Margaery pondered what she knew of the brothel keeper.
"You said he offered Sansa an escape around the time I suggested she wed my brother."
"Apparently due to the kinship he felt towards her lady mother."
The couple shared a sceptical smirk.
"Do you think he wished to wed her, and claim the North?"
"He is not a Tyrell, my love, with no army to draw on he could not have expected to take and hold the North, even with Ned Stark's daughter by his side."
Maragery grinned and stroked Tyrion's `arm.
"I cannot tell you how glad I am that particular plot did not come to fruition, if Sansa had wed Loras I do not think you and I would be married now."
"I suppose we do owe something of a debt to whoever alerted my father to your schemes."
Tyrion ran his eyes over her person and sighed.
"We should change for our dinner with the Dornish. Do you think Lannister or Tyrell colours will be more favourably received?"
Margaery smirked at his sardonic expression.
"I think perhaps we should forgo house colours on this occasion, Lord husband, and I think there is something else we need to attend to first."
She grinned and pulled him into a kiss.
Margaery sat in the comfortable well appointed apartments Oberyn and Ellaria shared and sipped some Dornish Red. Being accustomed to the sweet wines of the Arbour, she found the drink bitter and certainly did not share her husband's fondness for it. However she could not complain of any sourness from their hosts, Oberyn had greeted her with a kiss on the hand and some compliments which could have been described as gallant had the twinkle in his eye not suggested his thoughts were less than proper. Ellaria's eyes had also wandered frankly over Margaery's person, however as they began to make conversation, the younger woman had been surprised at the friendly warmth which had radiated from the notorious paramour, particularly when she spoke of her daughters. The Red Viper himself seemed to be a loving parent too, talking fondly of his eight girls. Margaery did not fail to note that the older girls in particular seemed to excel in martial pursuits and that their sire was openly proud of the moniker his 'Sand Snakes' had earned with their exploits.
"Your daughters sound very accomplished, my prince, you must be so proud."
Oberyn acknowledged her compliment with a jaunty tilt of the head, a smile playing on his lips.
"Beatuiful and charming, you are very fortunate man, Lord Tyrion."
Margaery squeezed her husband's hand.
"We both are."
Oberyn smirked at Tyrion.
"Second time lucky, eh little friend?"
Margaery felt Tyrion jolt as he briefly squeezed her hand tighter. Her husband met the Dornish prince's gaze with a sharp frown. She was shocked herself at what appeared to be a reference to her husband's first marriage. She allowed a simper to pass her lips.
"It is true I am extremely fortunate to have found Lord Tyrion after loosing Renly Baratheon so early in our marriage."
"And after the death of your betrothed, King Joffrey. Of course, when Renly was married to you, he also called himself a king. Tell me, my lady, do you think yourself lucky not to be a queen? I do not think anyone could say my sister was fortunate to have been destined to wear the crown."
Oberyn's eyes had taken on a dark look as he spoke, Margaery felt she understood far better now why he was known as a viper; there was something dangerous emanating from the man. For an instant no one spoke, then Ellaria placed a hand on her paramour's shoulder and frowned at him. The prince threw her a quick smile then turned back to Tyrion and Margaery, the picture of charm and good humour once more. Talk turned to Braavos and from there the Prince's travels in Essos. This was a pleasant and interesting subject until Oberyn came to his time with the Second Sons. Eyeing Tyrion he spoke in a jovial tone:
"Just think, if I was still among their ranks, we may be facing each other on battle field. I hear they are now sworn to Daenerys Targaryen."
"I am glad for you that is not the case, Prince Oberyn. I have no doubt your deep family loyalty would prevent you from taking up arms against you brother and nephew."
Tyrion had spoken in the same light tone used by Oberyn and Margaery was pleased to note he still had his wits about him. Since the recollection of Tysha, her husband had been consuming wine at a pace she had not witnessed since before their betrothal. In other circumstances she would have felt irritation at this loss of control in the presence of those they could not trust and although she was less than impressed as it was, she could appreciate why a remembrance of his first wife would provoke such a reaction. She met Oberyn's gaze and smiled sweetly.
"I look forward to visiting Dorne to attend my niece's wedding. Has a date yet been set?"
"Are you not tired of weddings, Lady Margaery?"
There was a hint of challenge in the Dornishman's tone which Margaery chose to ignore. Once again she placed her hand in Tyrion's
"I find that thinking of my own makes me fonder of them than ever."
Ellaria smiled at her kindly.
"I can see that you and your husband are very happy together, Lady Margaery."
"I only hope I make her as happy as she does me."
Margaery looked into her husband's green eyes and felt her heart flutter. A smile danced on her lips as she gave him a slight nod, conveying without words that he brought her more joy than she could have dreamed of.
Her husband then turned to the prince.
"Prince Oberyn, may I ask what your meeting with my father concerned the other day? I had assumed it would be brought before the council."
"No it was nothing to trouble the small council with, Lord Tyrion. A private matter between Lord Tywin and myself and a meeting long delayed, by your wedding."
"Really? I do hope you do not hold a grudge about that."
"Of course not, little friend. You will become aware of what i discussed with your father in due course. I have had be patient and so must you be."
Margaery caught the anguish which flashed across Ellaria Sand's face as her paramour spoke and suspected Oberyn's patience was not related to waiting for the Lannisters to return. She wondered what the Dornish man had discussed with her good father, but given the tension in the atmosphere, she did not seek to pursue it. She watched as Tyrion rapidly emptied his wine glass. Margery may have sympathy with the underlying cause of his behaviour, but she felt that she could not allow it to continue in their current company; Tyrion may well be abel to hold his wine better than most, but it did have a tendency to loosen his tongue and this was not the place to for frankness. She fixed her eyes on Ellaria with a smile.
"I regret that Tyrion and I must take our leave of you now, it has been a long day and we have much to attend to in the morning."
The smirk on Oberyn's face suggested he was about to pass comment on their departure but before he could speak, his mistress replied:
"Of course, my lady, thank you for a very pleasant evening."
They made their farewells and departed for their own chambers. Once they had made their way down the corridor Margaery turned to Tyrion, a wry expression on her face.
"It would seem you have a far greater fondness for Dornish Red than any of the wines of the Reach, my Lord."
Her husband had the grace to look ashamed.
"I owe you my thanks for removing me from what could have been an embarrassing situation, my lady. As well as my apologies for loosing my self control."
She offered him a small smile.
"I require neither, I simply behaved as any wife would. But, Tyrion, you must take more care, it was clear for any to see that Oberyn is not a man we can let down our guard before."
"I know, I know, but when he spoke of marriage I thought…"
She squeezed his shoulder.
"I know what you thought, which is why I am not angered, well that and the fact I am still rather starry eyed where you are concerned."
He took her hand and kissed it then gazed up at her lovingly. Margaery placed her other hand on his face.
"We are in this together now, husband, we must stay sharp for each other's sake."
He gently pulled her hand and Margaery smiled, lowering her lips for a kiss. A sudden shout from behind caused her to startle and inadvertently push Tyrion, causing him to loose his balance and end up crouched by the wall. As he made himself upright, Margaery turned to the source of the interruption and found herself faced with Harrold Hardyng for the second time that day.
The young knight took in the scene before him, concern etched on his face.
"Is everything alright, my lady?"
"It was fine until you startled us."
"Forgive me, I thought your husband was in some difficulties."
Hardyng glanced towards Tyrion and back to his wife. Margaery fixed on a pleasant smile.
"Ser Hardyng , I am unsure if you have met my lord husband. Tyrion, this is Ser Harrold Hardyng of the Vale, Ser Hardyng, my husband, Lord Tyrion Lannister."
The young knight bowed, his face grim.
"I have not had the pleasure, my lord, although I heard tales of your visit to the Vale."
Margaery took in Harold's prudish expression and had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling. Tyrion had recounted at length to her the events of his trial for the attempted murder of Bran Stark and while she was sure it was something which should scandalise a delicate young lady, she had found the account extremely funny. Tyrion was now standing beside her and she bowed her head to the younger man.
"We must thank the gods that justice prevailed in the Eyrie. Now if you will excuse us, Ser Hardyng, the hour is late."
Margaery smiled in polite dismissal but the knight made no move to pass.
"You do not require any assistance, my Lady?"
Tyrion barked a short laugh.
"With what? Finding our rooms? I should hope we are better able to locate them than you, ser."
The man of the Vale glared at her husband and Margaery fought to keep the smirk from her face. She placed a hand on Tyrion's shoulder and began to move him away.
"Good evening, Ser Hardyng."
When they knight was out of earshot she turned to Tyrion, eyes dancing.
"You were less than polite to him, my love."
"Well that is what he must expect for being a bloody fool."
"It was the second time I have endured his foolishness today, yet I managed to be polite."
"That is because you are a charming rose, and I am a belligerent lion."
Tyrion raised his brows to her. Margaery smiled and shook her head slightly.
"What am I to do with you, husband?"
Suddenly his face became soft and serious.
"Stay by my side and let me love you, that is far more than I deserve."
She felt her breath catch in her throat.
"As long as you let me love you back."
Tyrion clasped both her hands in his and squeezed them nodding his head slightly. After a moment they resumed their progress to their chambers, saying no more but occasionally bestowing each other with gentle, loving smiles.