Lord Renly Baratheon

The new year had been welcomed with a feast and a celebration at court, directed by Renly, the King had said that it would be foolish to hold such a celebration when Dragonstone remained under the control of Euron Greyjoy, and it had taken every argument that Renly had to convince him otherwise. The King had attended briefly, danced with Lady Margaery and with his mother and with Lady Desmera Redwyne and then retired for the night to do work. Renly was growing frustrated with his nephew on that front, they needed a marriage and they needed it quickly. Of course, with his nephew having summoned him at this late hour he felt perhaps he would be better able to convince his nephew of the need to marry when he was tired.

The hour was late, candles were burning in their place on the walls, the Kingsguard stood silently behind his nephew, Ser Barristan as Lord Commander was of course at the King's right hand side, Ser Hugh Beesbury was to the King's left hand side. Ser Arys had gone with Myrcella to Winterfell for a time, alongside fifty yellow cloaks, from the household guard. The King was wide awake, letters strewn across his table. He looked at Renly and said. "You know something Uncle, I think there is something more going on in this very city than perhaps my own father knew. I've just read through the accounts for the fifth time and there is a missing amount of some three hundred thousand dragons, from the fifteenth of the month before father died, to the third of this current month. I do not know where this money has gone and I would not have found it had I not seen the discrepancies in payments."

Renly did not much care about the finances he had another bone to pick, but he did as he was asked and looked over the accounts. He read the numbers and frowned. "That can't be right, the feast for the wedding cost some one hundred thousand dragons, I know because I arranged it. It couldn't have cost fifty thousand dragons. Baelish has either entered that incorrectly or he has done it deliberately. And then there's this." He said pointing to another thing he'd noticed. "He cannot seriously believe that no one would notice that forty thousand dragons has gone blank. That is a foolish error on his part."

The King nodded. "I agree. So why do you think that Lord Baelish is doing this? Has he gotten slower in his advancing age? Is he working for someone who is threatening him to rewrite the accounts, or has he simply been swindling money?"

Renly thought over this and remembered something he'd heard long ago. "Baelish has always been associated with strange figures, he rose because he was good with numbers, but I remember once very early on there was some sort of trouble over an account or two with Braavos and he got reprimanded by Robert. After that he seemed more on point than before, but he still had an air of suspicion. Robert regularly checked the books, but I would not be surprised if Baelish kept separate ones, one with the actual amount and one with the forged amount."

"Why would he feel the need to forge the amount? I know that he might be swindling from me, but what else could there be? He would need to write down why this was money was going somewhere it wasn't. Perhaps there are more perpetrators than this account leads us to believe. He would want to save his own skin and ensure that he is not left out to dry." The King said, making a quick note of that.

Renly sensing that perhaps now would be the right time to bring up what he wanted to say said. "Sire, I think that should these concerns be justified, as I am sure they are, the Tyrells would be more than happy to aid you. They do possess some of the sharpest minds in the entirety of Westeros after all. They have been here since the coronation and have mentioned to me that you have not yet met with them to discuss various things amongst them the betrothal between yourself and Lady Margaery." There he had said it, and now he waited to see what would happen.

The King was slow in replying, he continued scribbling down something on a piece of paper, and when he was done, he looked up at Renly and said. "The Tyrells have been here for some time that much is true, and yet other than offer me pointless compliments they have done nothing to justify me approaching them. Lord Mace quarrelled with Ser Oberyn not once but three times, and as such I have had to ensure they do not meet. Ser Loras, your love continues to insult Quentyn almost daily, and of course there is the fact that they try and shove different girls at me at almost every opportunity. Lady Margaery herself has not yet come to talk with me beyond brief conversation. I am a King not some love-struck puppy. I do not approach people."

Renly sighed, his nephew reminded him of Robert at his most obstinate, and that was both a good thing but also a worrying concern. "Sire," he said in his most placative voice. "You know that these women, they do not approach men, let alone Kings. They are there to be courted, to be won over. You are King, you have an advantage over any other man in the realm. Lady Margaery is shy by nature, you must win her over. Especially in these heated times." That last was a lie, Margaery was anything but shy, but for some reason she'd preferred a snake over a King.

The King sighed. "I will do what I can, if it means you will stop bothering me about it." Renly bowed, turned and left, smiling as he did so, he would need to convince Margaery now and that shouldn't be hard.

Lady Margaery Tyrell

The year had changed, and an new one had been welcomed, and that was all well and good, but Margaery felt suffocated. She liked King's Landing and loved being back at court, she'd been so very mad at Papa when he'd fallen out with King Robert, but here she was back again. She was technically betrothed to the new King, Jon, but they'd barely interacted in the months that she'd been in the capital. If she were being truthful with herself, Margaery knew that it wasn't either one of theirs fault, the King was extremely busy ruling the Kingdom, and she had been at first a lady in waiting for the Princess helping her with her wedding preparations before moving toward something of an administrative role with the charities that the Queen Dowager ran. Of course neither her father or her grandmother saw it that way. As this conversation seemed to prove.

"You need to stop hanging around the Martell boy, he is a firstborn son but he won't be inheriting Sunspear, or even Dorne, instead he will simply be there as nothing more than an extra. Margaery, the King is the ultimate prize, you must keep your eye on the prize." Her father, Lord Mace said, his belly shaking as he spoke.

"The King is not a piece of meat to be won, Father. He is a person." Margaery replied.

"The King is the King, win him over to your side and you will be set for life, as his wife you can bring all the changes to Westeros that you always spoke of with Willas." Her father said. "Remember that, you are as powerful as your husband, going for some son of a Dornishman, even if they are the Lord Paramount does nothing for you. Going for the King will make sure that everything you want can be achieved." This was a different strategy from her father, usually he would be upfront about wanting to further the motives of the House and his own motives. She had to give him credit for that, perhaps grandmother had spoken to him.

Margaery was indeed quite surprised that her grandmother had not spoken about this matter, she would have expected Olenna Redwyne, the Queen of Thorns to have been incredibly outspoken on this matter. Instead it was Renly, her brother's lover who spoke. "Your father is right, Margaery, my nephew the King is someone who knows how to work and how to work, but not how to enjoy himself. He is young, you both are. If you want to improve the kingdom you can only do that with the King at your side. Quentyn Martell might be smart, but that is not enough to ensure what you want gets done."

Margaery could feel her anger rising. "How do you know that is the only thing I want? I want to be able to enjoy the company of my husband, I want to be able to share things with him, not just a bed. Yes I want to ensure the people of Westeros are better off, but that is not the only thing that matters to me." She looked at her father then and said. "Does my happiness mean so little to you?" Her father looked as if she'd just told him that Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen were alive and living right there in the Red Keep.

That was when her grandmother spoke. "Margaery dear, be honest. You have spoken with the King thrice now, and in that time what have you truly spoken about?" Margaery suspected she knew what her grandmother was doing, but nonetheless she played along.

"We've spoken about nothing of substance, perhaps the odd comment on something at court, but nothing more than that." Margaery said. "The King hasn't had the time to discuss anything serious and whenever I see him, it is always at some formal function which does not necessitate the best time to discuss serious things."

Her father spoke up then, his tone angry. "You are a woman meant to be married to a King, whether you speak of anything of substance or not is irrelevant. You have to make sure the King likes you, and then he will listen to what you have to say. He is a King not a stupid Dornish boy."

"And I am a Tyrell not some flower maid meant to do everything. We have both been busy, Quentyn has been friendly and easy to talk to, that is why I have spoken to him more than I have the King. When the King is free," Margaery snapped back. "When we are both free, then perhaps we shall speak more, until then, I would appreciate it if you left me alone on this matter, father."

Her father grumbled but walked out of the room, Renly and Loras looked at her and then walked after her father, no doubt to get him to calm down, leaving just her and her grandmother. Her grandmother looked at her and said. "You know, if you wish for the betrothal to be broken, you need only say. Your father will drop it in an instant."

"I don't want the betrothal broken, grandmother." Margaery replied. "I'm not stupid I know that things will be better for everyone if I marry the King. It's just that, I'm not sure how to approach him. He's not anything like I'd thought he'd be. And Quentyn keeps telling me that the King is a simple man, but he seems so bold, so charismatic, so different to any of the other boys I've met, I just don't know how to talk to him."

Her grandmother put her hand on hers and said. "You go up to him and you say, what do you like? What are you interested in? He is the King he won't come to you, and you are not some wilting wallflower who needs to be approached, dear. Go to him and ask him what he likes, and tell him what you like and go from there."

"Will that work?" Margaery asked.

"It did with your grandfather, and my betrothed." Grandmother said.