Margaery sat at the small table, absorbing the contents of Sansa's letter, as Jeyne laid out the morning meal. The brunette was reading attentively and was unaware of her husband's presence until she heard a murmur in her ear.
"Have you captivated Lord Varys so much that he is sending you tender missives, Lady wife?"
Margaery smirked, arching her neck so that Tyrion could bestow a kiss.
"Do you know, my lord, the last time I was falsely accused of being in receipt of a love letter, the supposed culprit was your good self?"
Tyrion frowned playfully.
"In that case I feel I have been derelict in my duties, having yet to send you such a letter, be assured I shall seek to rectify this at the earliest opportunity. Have you been awake long, my love?"
"Not really."
Margaery met her husband's sceptical gaze and smiled sweetly.
"I did not wish to awaken you, Tyrion, you were late to bed last night and you looked so peaceful."
In truth she had felt an urge to waken her husband and to start her day with some strenuous love making, despite the pair having partaken of a long and enjoyable coupling the night before. However, Tyrion had been exhausting himself with business of the realm of late and moreover Margaery was aware of the issues the younger Lannister had around sleep and took it as something of a point of pride that his nights had been more rested since he settled into married life. She heaped a generous portion of fruit onto her plate and began to butter a slice of bread.
"I have word from Sansa, she and Jaime will be in the capital for my name day. It seems we will also meet our nephew."
Tyrion beamed at the prospect. Margaery shared his joy at being reunited with her good sister and indeed at seeing the babe. She sighed and spoke again keeping her eyes on the letter.
"I may be reading too far between the lines, but I think Sansa suspects she is with child again."
"So soon?"
"It is not really that soon, Ty was born when we were in Braavos. Sansa comes from fertile stock, it would not really be a great surprise if she whelped her second before I had my first."
Margaery tried and failed to keep her tone light. Mytus's investigations into her food had found nothing untoward, although he had been looking for poison, the young woman had no doubt he would also have come across any substance which would have inhibited pregnancy. Still she could not shake the suspicion that something may be preventing her from conceiving an heir. She pushed the fear aside and placed a hand on Tyrion's noticing his faraway look.
"I daresay she will confirm one way or another when they arrive. How goes the shipping trade?"
"Well. We have received the monies from Braavos and building has begun on the smaller crafts. I have also had word from your kinsman, it would seem there has been no activity to speak of in regards to the Iron Islands, so we may put that one down to a rare case of Varys' birds being in the wrong."
"Yes that seems most likely."
The pair shared a significant look. After Margery's meeting with the Spider they had decided that a separate source of information regarding house Greyjoy's activities would be beneficial. House Tyrell had oversight of the city watch in Old Town and the current captain of guards was an illegitimate cousin of Margaery's. He had been agreeable to sparing a small number of his men to survey activity off the coast and they had seen nothing to be concerned about. Margaery rubbed her temple; whilst she and her husband were both sceptical as to the honesty of Vayrs' mistake they could find no explanation as to why he should have sought to deliberately deceive the council. Contemplating yet another player with ambiguous motive a part of the Tyrell heir wished nothing more than to be back at Highgarden with no greater concern than her grandmother's sharp tongue.
At that moment Podrick entered the room,carrying a plate of the blackened bacon his master favoured. Margaery held back a wretch, feeling her dull headache worsen. How I can feel like this if I am not being poisoned is quite beyond me. She stood abruptly managed to bestow a weak smile on her husband.
"I find my appetite has deserted me, I think I shall take a walk around the gardens, perhaps the fresh air will do me some good."
Tyrion glanced at her concernedly.
"Shall I accompany you, my lady?"
"Indeed you will not. I am fully aware that your father has requested the crown account books from you in one hour and you will wish to look over them first, that is why I ensured your squire was here with a full meal for you to break your fast and why I did not awaken you at first light."
Tyrion's face softened into a tender smile and Margaery sensed how much he treasured being looked after in this way. His green eyes twinkled as he sought to arrange his countenance into a mock frown.
"Very well but take your handmaiden with you, I shall ensure that some light food is left in our chambers for your return."
"Thank you, husband."
She kissed him frankly on the lips, nodded to the grinning Pod and departed in search of Ana.
A short while later, the pair were strolling among the blooms of the Red Keep grounds, Margery's head felt better in the fresh air and she sought to engage Ana in conversation. The young girl was taciturn in disposition, and while there were advantages to having handmaiden who appeared so disinclined to gossip, her mistress was also aware she knew very little about the blonde, which she sought to rectify. She turned talk to family and Ana informed her she had one elder brother who was in the Citadel forging his chain, her mother had died in childbed, taking the babe with her and their father had turned to drink, they had been taken in by an aunt when Ana was four.
"And where does this Aunt live?"
Before her handmaiden could respond, the pair rounded a corner and found their way blocked by a beaming Ser Harold Hadyng.
"Lady Margaery! What a pleasant surprise. Here I am, savouring the beauty of the roses, when I come upon the fairest flower of them all."
It was all Margaery could do not to roll her eyes. She had often chided her grandmother for making scathing remarks about young girls, easily taken in by flattery, but she could not help thinking if this was an example of the Vale knight's charm, things must be very dull there indeed. She bowed her head and gave him a tight smile.
"It is indeed unexpected, Ser. I would have thought a man such as yourself would only be about at this hour if he wished to train. And I confess, I would not have expected you to be an admirer of flowers."
Remembering Jeyne's tale of meetings between Ana and the young knight, Margery watched Hardyng closely, his hazel eyes gave no sign of recognition as they flitted over Ana and certainly he made no attempt to bestow any secret acknowledgement upon the younger girl. Indeed, as in their past meetings, save for a cursory glance, he appeared unable to tear his gaze from Margaery herself.
"You have me there, my lady, I must confess I have little knowledge of the blooms themselves, however they do remind me of Alys."
"Alys? And who is she? A love you have left in the Vale?"
Margaery pressed the topic this time keeping her eyes on Ana, if the girl was perturbed by such a notion she did not show it. Hardyng seemed to affect a bashful demeanour.
"I suppose she is, although not, I suspect in the way you mean. Alys is my eldest daughter. After her birth my aunt arranged for her mother to be wed to one of her men at arms. I see the child from time to time, she has the most beautiful curls and often bound with flowers, my aunt tells me she loves to sing and dance so I arranged for her to be sent some fine satin slippers on her last name day."
Margaery listened to this tale with half an ear. She had never been particularly interested in the doings of small children, unless they belonged to someone she cared about. Clearly her distraction had been more obvious than she was aware for the young knight fixed her with a concerned frown as he spoke again.
"Forgive me, my lady, it occurs to me I have perhaps inadvertently caused you offence."
"I cannot see how you imagine so, Ser."
"Well, if you will forgive my plain speaking, all know of your lord husband's past reputation. Perhaps you do not like to hear tales of bastards."
"Lord Tyrion has no acknowledged bastards, Ser Hardyng, surely you are aware of that?"
The young knight raised his brows.
"I confess I was not, being new to court as I am. I had simply assumed… I myself have two children born the wrong side of the blanket fathered before my twentieth name day. Well, I suppose that is a relief to you, in some ways at least."
Margaery plastered a smile over the scowl she wished to through in the young man's direction. She had long held little doubt that stories surrounding Tysha's fate would have reached the whorehouses and taverns of Lannisport and been more than enough to deter any woman from knocking on Tywin Lannister's door stating Tyrion had got them with child. She had even less doubt that this was not knowledge Hardyng was party to and it was certainly nothing she wished to discuss with him. She forced herself to keep her tone level.
"As you said yourself, Ser, this is hardly a pleasant subject to discuss with a lady. Now if you will excuse me I have yet to break my fast."
She gave him the barest of nods of the head then swept away, Ana hurrying in her wake.
Back in the privacy of her chambers, Margaery rounded on her handmaiden sharply.
"Jeyne mentioned before that you had spoken with Ser Hardyng on occasion. Did you tell him of the possets the queen mother has sent me?"
Ana's eyes went wide.
"No, m'lady, I swear it. You were right, when you said what he talked to me about. He is not an honourable man, m'lady."
Margaery gazed into the guileless blue eyes, not for the first time, she felt as if she had seen them before, in another face. Margaery knew that eyes could lie, however innocent they seemed and she had not failed to note that Ana was now contradicting her earlier assertion that she had never spoken with Hardyng. Perhaps the girl had been taken in by his charms and was embarrassed? The older woman decided she would write to her grandmother in the next week and determine if there had been any hints of scandal around either of the girls who had been sent to her. For now she simply wanted time to herself with her thoughts.
"Very well, you may leave me now, I wish to rest. Could you ask Maester Mytus to prepare me a rubbing balm for my temples? Bring it here in several hours."
The girl curtsied and exited, leaving Margaery to fully compose herself alone. Her conversation with the knight of the Vale had left her deeply irritated. Ser Hardyng lacked subtlety and it did not take much pondering to determine that the whole conversation had been a thinly veiled attempt to cast aspersions on her husband's potency. Margaery wondered what the Young Falcon hoped to achieve. He certainly made every effort to be charming towards her when the opportunity arose but her experienced eye could tell he had no deep affection towards her. Whist Margaery did not hold the young man in particularly high regard she had no doubt he was not short of willing bed mates so this elaborate pursuit of herself seemed unnecessary. Perhaps she could gain more information about from Ana, now the young girl had admitted to having met with him. Margaery was reminded by a pang of hunger that she had abandoned her breakfast prematurely. The brunette forced down some fruit and several slices of bread before retiring to her room, intending to read. However as soon as she stretched out on the coverlet, Margaery felt her eyes grow heavy and she quickly discarded the book in her hands, giving into fatigue.
She awakened several hours later, feeling rested but extremely hungry. A glance out the window showed her it was around time for luncheon but a search of her chambers revealed neither Jeyne nor Ana. Margery was puzzled as to where both girls could be but before she had time to think on it further there was a knock at the door. Smoothing her gown and hair the young woman answered and was surprised to see Ellaria Sand standing before her, a smile on her face that did not reach her eyes.
"Lady Margaery, I hope you are not busy? Oberyn has some business to attend to and I wondered if you would mind keeping me company?"
"Not at all, come in please. I am afraid my handmaidens seem to have deserted me and I can offer you no luncheon, prehaps you would care for some fruit?"
"Thank you, my lady, perhaps some donnish olives?"
"Ah, apologies, I am afraid I have lost my taste for them."
Ellaria quirked a brow and briefly became her animated self once more.
"I cannot believe it! I remember you enjoying them so much at our dinner."
Margaery smiled remembering the evening so many months before. She motioned to a chaise lounge before pouring two goblets of wine and placing them on the small table. She had met with the Dornish woman on several occasions since the dinner and found her to be pleasant and lively company. However the women were not overly friendly and Margaery could not help but wonder what had prompted this visit. Ellaria was fully aware that the majority of the court looked down on her for her base birth and status as a courtesan and generally preferred to keep company with the other Dornish. Yet here she was today, unaccompanied and paying a social call, for all she seemed in no way inclined to make conversation. Margaery sipped her drink and smiled.
"Do you think you will remain in the capital much longer, Ellaria?"
It had been intended as a pleasant, safe inquiry and Margaery was surprised to see the Dornish woman's face darken.
"That is for Oberyn to decide. If I had my way we would have left long before now."
Margaery was startled by the intensity with which the words were spoken. After a moment, the older woman seemed to remember herself and looked uncomfortable. Wanting to put Ellaria at ease, the girl from the Reach gave a sympathetic smile.
"It must be hard to be away from your daughters for so long, I know my mother misses me dreadfully."
"I am sure she does, you should go to her, Lady Margaery, I am sure she will have much to teach you now you are going to be a mother yourself."
Margaery felt as if she had been slapped at the abrupt return to the subject which had been vexing her so much of late.
"Forgive me, Ellaria, is some rumour circulating court which I am not privy to?"
The older woman raised a brow and spoke in a kindly tone:
"No, child, it is simply obvious; I can tell that you have recently awoken which means you are napping during the day; you tell me you have lost your taste for a food you adored and, well I know these things are not spoken of as frankly outside of Dorne but the change to your bosom is plain for any to see."
Margaery inhaled deeply.
"But I bled several weeks ago."
"And was it far lighter than normal? Well that is not uncommon in the early months. Feel free to check with your maester but take it from one who has four of her own and watched her mother and sisters birth many more; you are expecting a child."
Margaery placed a hand to her stomach, a beaming smile spread slowly across her face and broke into a short breath of laughter.
"Truly, I could be with child?…Having Tyrion's babe?"
The thought practically blinded her with joy. She imagined the look upon her husband's face when she revealed the news. Margaery was well aware he had conflicted feelings when it came to parenthood but she also knew how much he had longed for a loving family and how much he loved her. She was sure he would respond firstly with delight and that they could deal with the worries later.
She turned to the older woman, a barrage of questions rising to her lips, but was silenced by the pained expression on Ellaira's face.
"Your husband will be very happy, my lady, of that I am sure. And he will want to do all he can for you and your comfort. Take my advice, tell him you wish to return home as soon as possible. This place is rotten and you would both be better off elsewhere. Trust me on this one, If I could make Oberyn leave I would not waste one second in doing so."
The Dornish woman's speech had a quiet intensity about it that provoked a dread in Margaery and had her reflexively holding her belly. The loaded silence in the room was punctuated by another knock at the door, Margaery had barely called permission to enter when Bronn opened the door, looking in hastily and sketching a bow, his brows raising when he saw Margery's companion.
"'Afternoon ladies, is Lord Tyrion in his chambers?"
"He is not. Could he still be in the Tower of the Hand?"
Bronn shook his head.
"Lord Tywin's men sent me to find him, he's calling the small council together. Something's…happened."
The sellsword's uncharacteristically delicate phrasing and the way his eyes rested on Ellairia as he spoke quirked Margaery's suspicion. She frowned.
"Ser Bronn I suggest you speak plainly, why does Lord Tywin require my husband?"
She fixed him with a piercing stare and the man grimaced and sighed.
"There's been some sort of trouble, I don't know the in's and out's. One of the groomsmen went to the far stable blocks and found two men lying out cold, turns out it were Gregor Clegane and Oberyn Martell."
Ellaria let forth a piercing shriek. Margaery ran towards her and placed a steadying arm about her person, before turning back to the sellsword.
"Bronn, where is the prince of Dorne now?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, m'lady."
"Very well. Please take Ellaria back to her chambers and ensure that someone who does know where Prince Oberyn is takes her to him as soon as possible, then you may resume your search for Lord Tyrion."
The dark haired man grimaced; clearly not relishing the prospect of escorting the distraught courtesan through the keep, but nodded and offered an arm. As she turned to leave Ellaria fixed Margaery with an impassioned stare.
"I told him no good could come of this! I told him so many times. Now do you see why I tell you to leave? Margaery, if you truly love that man you will get him out of here before he is destroyed!"
Bronn cast his master's wife an incredulous look before ushering the weeping dornish woman through the door. Margaery sat down heavily, her mind in a whirl. She had long been aware the Red Viper sought vengeance for his family's deaths, now it seemed he had it but at what cost? Ellaria clearly thought it would be an easy matter for Margaery to persuade Tyrion to leave the capital, Margaery herself was not so sure. The pull on her husband to stay was as strong as Oberyn's thirst for revenge, and as she once again reflexively rubbed her stomach, she could not help but wonder if Tyrion's pursuit of his desires would leave her as anguished as Ellaria had been that afternoon.
So Oberyn battled the Mountain! Will either survive? Also yay there's a little flowery lion on the way : ) hope you enjoyed this chapter, I wanted to get it out sooner but I've got carpal tunnel. It late stage pregnancy related so if the updates slow down again that will be why :)