Miriam
"Miriam…"
Highgarden was one of those places farmers and lesser nobles alike dreamed of visiting. With skies always blue and roses forever in bloom, it was comfortable. Not too cold like the North, and not too hot like the Capital.
"...Miriam…"
It sported a good market place and the latest fashions. These were things important to Miriam Tyrell's sister, Margaery, but for Miriam, they held little importance. Only the comings and goings, the wild fluxes of the economy that could mean the prosperity or the downfall of all civilizations, that's what held Miriam's interest. If only because it was quite fascinating how oysters and fabrics could control the commonwealth so easily.
"Miriam…" A small vat of ink barely caught Miriam's vision, hovering just above the incredibly important documents she was writing up, threatening to spill and force her to start over. Miriam quickly grabbed the vat, covering it with both hands begging the teasing hand to stop. Her grandmother Lady Olenna chuckled to herself as she watched Miriam panic and set the vat down. "Look at you. It's noon and you haven't even left your bed clothes! And you complain you don't measure up to your siblings."
Margaery and Loras, both beautiful and charismatic, they were the full blossoms of Highgarden. Brilliant as the sun beat down on them, grace wherever they walked. Miriam, not having shared a mother with them, never felt she could follow properly. Charisma always fell short. Beauty always on the brink, but never quite fully reached.
"Some very important business has come through, I was excited, that's all. I'll get dressed soon Grandmother."
Walking back to the empty seat, Olenna slowly sat down across the massive desk littered in books and papers and pens. Miriam seemed to always lose hers though they never left the room. "I hate to say it dear, you're a terrible bore. Your biggest excitement is business propositions?" she tisked, "If there was a mythical land I could send you to earn better interests, I would in a heartbeat."
Miriam laughed quietly, "Yes but Grandmother, who would you have to listen to how much you hate everyone? Only a true bore could tolerate that."
A blush rose on Miriam's cheeks at Olenna's great laughter, "So she learns to snap back! There may yet be hope for you!"
Letting silence sink in, Olenna spoke up with grim news. "Jon Arryn is dead. Lucky bastard…in some ways I suppose. Sometimes I think it would be better to be dead than deal with this cesspool called politics." She snorted.
"I thought you liked putting snooty rich 'twats' in their place?" Miriam spoke, still writing, still concentrating on her documents.
Olenna gasped, "You're absolutely right! Perhaps I drank too much wine. I wouldn't want to die; how boring."
"I do think we should be weary." Stacking a finished paper on one of her mountains of books, Miriam picked up a blank paper, dipped her pen and began filling it. "He was a very influential man, his death is going to shake some people. While we can hope those people stay far away from us, there's no guaranteeing it's not going to disrupt certain trade, even cause fights for dominance over land disputes. Small people so often like to take advantage without really thinking. I've looked into possible options, we could send dignitaries or at least spies into-"
"I'm sorry what? I fell asleep for a moment." Olenna tossed one of Miriam's books causing a tower to tumble over. The snicker was barely hidden.
Miriam held back her huff and looked her Grandmother in the eye for the first time since she entered. "I'm serious Grandmother." Miriam tossed her head back to get her mess of brown bed hair out of her face, regretting not braiding it. Turning back to her paper, she mumbled under her breath. "We already know his wife is crazier than a two copper whore."
Olenna smiled, pride brimming in her eyes. "I'm so glad I have me to influence you."
There was always something about impressing her Grandmother that caused Miriam to tickle in glee. Miriam dreamed of one day being so quick witted, so in control of the world around her as Olenna Tyrell was. It made her feel not only like a successful pupil, but like a successful granddaughter as Margaery was. Just another one of those things Miriam felt she never quite held up to.
Dipping her pen in the ink, Miriam continued. "I wouldn't put it past someone to shift the blame. I don't know if Lord Arryn died of natural causes or not, but I think we best be prepared for future threats. I believe his death will influence certain events, and none in a good way."
Her grandmother smiled approvingly and Miriam felt her heart leap.
"You've given this a fair bit of thought," she nodded. "So how are these books going to help us? Let's pray nothing does happen, and that no one comes to their own conclusions of Arryn's passing. I do hate inconveniences…"
Lady Tyrell flipped one of the book covers closed and read the title aloud:
"Finances and Stability of the Second Century. Gods, does that sound boring. They say the most boring books are the most informative, though. Congratulations, clever girl. I'd be in my grave before I could get your brother and sister to read anything like it."
Miriam pushed the book aside and frowned, getting somewhat impatient with her Grandmother's bored roaming. There was a subject Miriam had been holding onto for months, and now with steady planning, it was time to build up courage and tell Olenna.
"House Tyrell is the wealthiest house in the realm, behind House Lannister of course. Future threats could mean either improvements to our land's economy or disadvantages. We need to be prepared for anything. And if there's nothing to be prepared for, then we need to sustain our current position," Miriam said more to herself than her grandmother.
"Very true," Lady Olenna agreed. "We've traded with nearly every country out there. Where do you think we should make an alliance next in order to further our cause?"
Miriam already knew the answer, and she'd been waiting for her grandmother to ask her. But now that the subject was seconds from being broached, a timidness filled her. For a moment she doubted her abilities but it was quickly shaken off, she could do this, and when she did, all of the world would know just how much the Tyrell blood flowed in her veins.
"When was the last time we traded with the Iron Islands?" Miriam asked slowly.
"Oh, them," Lady Olenna said disdainfully. "Are you still thinking about what your father told you?"
"Grandmother," Miriam began, running her own mental script in her head. "Father suggested that I wed Theon Greyjoy, Lord Balon Greyjoy's only son and thus true heir –"
"The ward of Winterfell as well, a hostage to the Starks. I don't see Eddard Stark handing over his ward anytime soon to Balon Greyjoy –" Lady Olenna started.
"Eddard Stark is an honorable man and only took Theon Greyjoy hostage because it was what he had to do. I don't know when, but someday Theon will return to his father and be named heir of the Iron Islands. When that happens, he will need a wife, and if we create an alliance with the Iron Islands that would supply us with ships, men, and permanent access to its harbor, creating jobs and an almost endless supply of fish for our people –"
"We can get fish from another harbor!" Lady Olenna cut in.
"And the ships? The men?" She pressed.
Olenna mauled it over, a grumpy look taking her face before she snickered. "You know more about warfare than your brother that fancies himself a knight."
Miriam grinned at her grandmother. "That's because I know how to read."
Lady Olenna burst into laughter at that.
"The boy knows how to read. He's just an idiot. Much like his father and my late husband. I've always thought women had more brains in Highgarden." she mused.
"You see why we can't pass this offer up, don't you?" Miriam asked.
"And will you ask Lord Stark for Theon's hand?" Lady Olenna asked her. "I don't think he'll accept, and Balon Greyjoy certainly wouldn't like a match chosen by his son's captor."
"I don't expect to strike a deal with Eddard Stark," said Miriam. Then she took a deep breath, the plan making her nervous again. "I want to go to Winterfell. I want to propose the offer to Theon himself, and I want to see what he says to it. When Theon returns to his family, we will make them an offer they can't refuse. I will then strike the deal with Balon Greyjoy."
"So why is it necessary to travel all the way to the cold?" A disagreeable look took Olenna again. "Avoid the cold my dear. It's nasty."
"Because Theon will have a better time convincing his father if he already knows me and has some feelings for me," Miriam said.
"So you want him to fall in love with you?" Lady Olenna wondered.
"Not fall in love, but get to know me, yes." In truth Miriam stressed over that part. Her Grandmother wasn't the only person to complain she was boring. But Miriam was open minded and gave freedoms willingly. She never believed a political marriage could thrive under the illusion of a loving marriage. Miriam could only hope it was enough to sway Theon if her looks and speech couldn't.
Lady Olenna began picking at her fingernails on one hand with the other. Miriam waited for her grandmother's response. If she got her grandmother's approval, she'd feel more confident in her conclusions. Each second felt like an hour.
"You do realize that Balon Greyjoy already has another child he can name his heir, don't you?" Lady Olenna finally said.
"A daughter," Miriam said, rolling her eyes. "A woman can't rule the Iron Islands. At least not in name anyways. He will give his seat to Theon eventually."
"Are you positive? Have you ever spoken with Balon before? Have you ever dined in his halls?" Lady Olenna raised an eyebrow.
"No, Grandmother, I haven't," Miriam admitted. "But I am confident. I feel good about this. This alliance will open up many doorways for our family. Margaery will marry someone more powerful of course. In the meantime, I'm doing no good here, wasting away over these books. I want to help my house."
Lady Olenna sighed heavily.
"I don't see myself convincing you otherwise of this arrangement," her words sounded tired already. But on a dime she was full of energy, angry energy. "But dear girl, honestly! I've heard rumor after rumor that Greyjoy boy is nothing but a whoremonger! I hear tell he's not even very handsome! I don't want to marry my precious blood off to some idiot that won't even appreciate her!"
Not knowing what came upon her, Miriam burst. "It's the best I can do as a bastard!"
Olenna halted and fiercely glared at her grandchild. Miriam reeled back and bowed her head, reminded why her Grandmother had the nickname Queen of Thorns.
"Don't you ever call yourself a bastard again!" the Matriarch hissed. "We do not have bastards in House Tyrell. You are my granddaughter, and you are to be treated as a lady of Highgarden. Never forget where you come from. Your surname isn't Stone or Snow or whatever the bloody hell they use to dub bastards, it's Tyrell, because you are a Tyrell."
"My apologies, Grandmother." Miriam's cheeks turned red. She nodded once.
"Don't apologize," Olenna waved a hand. "Servants apologize. When you have enough money, you don't have to apologize for anything. Look at House Lannister for example. They should be apologizing around the world for being such cunts, but thanks to gold, they do whatever they damn well please –"
"Grandmother," Miriam cut her off, the shame of her outburst keeping her head down, twirling her pen. "I don't want to marry Theon Greyjoy because I'm selling myself short for being a…well, not being the daughter of Lady Alerie. I know you've always accepted me, but the world knows deep down that my mother wasn't Father's wife. I don't know if they'd accept my marriage proposal. Not all the lands share the liberal views of House Tyrell."
"Do what you think is best, child," said Olenna suddenly. The sudden switch shocked Miriam, nearly dropping her pen onto the half finished document. "Don't let any rumors or misdeeds put you down though. But if this Theon is a beast, you are to return immediately. I will not have any of my grandchildren marry beasts. I'd sooner kill the boy if he planned on hurting one of you."
"Yes, Grandmother, I know," Miriam said, a small smile returning. "Don't worry. No one will take advantage of our House. We are growing strong as our sigil says. Roses shall always bloom."
"Even in the cold north." Lady Olenna added and rose from her seat.
Miriam had already been seated, sneaking small pieces of chicken when Margaery came in and kissed her cheek while Loras sat down next to her.
"You've got that look about you." Popping a grape in his mouth he smiled down at her, "The I've got a million things to plan look. Its cute, you get this little crinkle in your forehead and don't realize I've stolen all your utensils..."
Looking down Miriam in fact had no forks or spoons or even a plate. Smiling she took all her things back from his pile in front of him. "Thank the Gods I have you and Grandmother to remind me I need to guard my things like a mad dog while I think."
Miriam adored them both. The single biggest regret Miriam ever had was that she couldn't have been born of their mother. They were both so beautiful in their own ways, clearly having taken after Lady Alerie. Miriam would give anything to have those small little signs. That when people looked at her they could see her blood was as pure and as lovely as those two. It was a plague to look in the mirror and see pieces of the mysterious woman who abandoned her at birth. Why her father was willing to take her in was beyond Miriam. An illegitimate babe in the arms of a fleeting affair, sounded like more trouble than it was worth. But Mace Tyrell took in his bastard daughter, gave her a loving family so few bastards ever see, even Lady Alerie was a treasure to Miriam, who raised her and went as far as to feed her at her breast. Miriam was truly gifted for her family. Still, no matter how much love she was given, the word bastard hissed in her mind at every turn.
The servants hadn't yet finished setting up the long table as the three siblings snacked. Miriam related her plan to them, eager to know what they thought of it.
"But if you go, when will I see you again?" Margaery asked, her lips pouty and her doe eyes genuinely hurt.
"I don't know, but not too long I imagine. Just long enough to get pregnant or kicked into the gutter. We will see one another soon enough." Miriam promised.
"I'm not too interested in Theon Greyjoy." Loras spoke thoughtlessly, not having paid too much attention to the whole explanation. "I've heard he's an ugly little prick who fancies himself steward of a nice cock," a smirk broke out across his face. "I hear Robb Stark is handsome, though."
"Yes, well, I would never get the approval to marry him, so why bother?" The sigh was imminent but Miriam had to feel solid in her plan. She kept her voice even, not giving in to disappointment or anger.
"Oh Miriam," Margaery sighed, "You really do sell yourself too short. I agree with Grandmother, you could do better."
"I appreciate your concern, but while Highgarden might forget my legitimacy, the rest of the world certainly won't. The only place no one seems to care is in business-"
Loras groaned to himself and whispered, "Oh please don't get started on the economy again-" Margaery elbowed him hard in the ribs but Miriam just laughed.
"Well write us always, every day," Margaery told Miriam. "Tell us how you're doing and how the plans are going. We don't know when or even if Theon will return to his family, so don't waste your time there. Do what needs to be done and come home to us. From there we will decide what needs to be done and make the wedding plans if all goes according."
"I'd like to go to the North. It sounds romantic," said Loras, his eyes far off in the sunlight. "Freezing air and a nice warm bed covered in furs. Someone to share that bed with…"
Margaery rolled her eyes. "Am I the only one that knows how to have a decent conversation around here?"
Miriam laughed and continued to talk with them, falling in love with every word they'd say. Her mind played, mimicking so maybe one day she could act the same, speak the same, shed off all doubt and shine like a true flower of Highgarden.
The dinner went as always, but it was clear Olenna had informed her father. After dinner, as Miriam expected, he was wrapped up in a tissy reassuring her he'd find a real knight for her, that the Iron Islands was the place of raiders and pirates and the marriage idea was just a fleeting thought. After calming his worrisome heart, she explained again and told him he was right in saying it was the most beneficial for the house. What was meant as an insult, saying she was just like Olenna, only brought a sense of pride and comforted her in thinking she was on the right path.
The rest of the week was busy with preparation. There were certainly things that needed to be done, certain arrangements to be made in order for her to go to Winterfell. Miriam decided that she wouldn't announce her arrival to the Starks. It was Theon she wanted to see, and she didn't want the Stark family getting in the way for whatever reason. She'd deal with them accordingly in time. The journey would be almost in secret. Hopefully it'd be quick too, the cold didn't sound all that pleasant. She'd go, she'd seduce the Greyjoy boy, and she'd return to Highgarden until she was able to travel to the Iron Islands.
Her grandmother fussed over her the entire time, but she never got in Miriam's way. She did, however, insist that Miriam travel in something more fashionable than her usual browns and beiges.
"I'll buy some wolf furs," Miriam waved off.
"No granddaughter of mine is going to drape herself in wolf fur," cried Lady Olenna. "You must arrive with style, for once. You must make the Greyjoy boy understand exactly what this could mean for him, his house, and his future. Let me buy your clothes for you."
"Yes, grandmother," said Miriam, smiling.
Lady Olenna began moving away, chatting to herself as she went. "The girl dresses just like me…and I'm an old bat! Get something more revealing on her for a change…"
Miriam turned on her heel and went to make sure everything was in order for her trip to Winterfell. It was going to be a long trip. Made only longer by the anxiety of initiating her first big plan.
