A/N: Tyrell back-story in this chapter…enjoy!

Chapter 12

Margaery POV

I've always been an observer. Throughout my life, I've watched people from afar: my classmates, my family, anyone who interests me. I learn about who they are, who their family are, whom or what they care most about, what they want. Only then, if I consider it suitable and necessary, do I find a way to interact with them.

This is how my grandmother operates, too. She's always been my confidant, while my father has remained oblivious to my thoughts, and those of others around me. She helped me after my brother Loras met Renly, a boy in my form, and encouraged me to protect him from the prying eyes of the class bullies, given that Iron Throne isn't the most tolerant school around. This led to me orchestrating the façade of my relationship with Renly, to throw anyone trying to get at either of them off the scent.

As I wait at the crowded bus stop, Loras and Renly too distracted with each other to pay much attention to me, I casually observe those around me. My eyes pass over various groups of siblings and friends, and smaller children holding hands with their parents, until I notice the auburn-haired girl with her brunette sister, members of the family that's always interested me. The Starks.

I smile sadly at the thought of their family name. It should be none of my business what happens to them, but I'm too compassionate to just ignore what I see. I'm also too observant to miss that there was something strange about the timing of Ned Stark's death. I don't know much about the long-lasting Lannister/Stark feud, but I do know that during last year, Stark Inc. had reached a high in popularity, while Tywin Lannister's firm had had some significant losses of some sort. And then, during the first week of summer, Ned Stark had a fatal driving accident travelling through Lannisport. It's too big a coincidence to ignore. And since Ned's death, I've always thought about helping them, in whatever way I can.

And my need to help them only gets more intense when the car pulls over. Cersei Lannister's car. I don't hear everything Joffrey and Sansa say to each other, but I don't need to. Joffrey, a notorious bully who's always targeted the Starks, is now suddenly nice to the pretty Stark girl in his year? I would know not to fall for something like that, but I worry Sansa will not, and nor will any of her family. I've seen what Cersei is capable of, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, let alone someone as innocent and gentle as Sansa. I want to help her, to save her, and I believe she'll listen to me.

When the bus arrives, I sit across the aisle from Loras and Renly, not wanting to tell them of my plans just yet. I stare through the windows at the uninspiring suburbs near school, and lose myself in thought, of Joffrey, of Cersei, of Sansa, and of how best to reach through to each of them.

Sansa POV

"So then I put a laser beam through the alien's heart, and that was the end of him!" Joffrey makes a sound more akin to a cackle than a laugh, as he eagerly recounts his latest video game exploits.

Cersei looks at him sternly. "Save talking about alien murder for Meryn and Boros, darling," she says. I give her a thankful glance. I have to admit that Joffrey's monologue had become a little macabre, but maybe all boys my age are like that, and I'm just too naïve to have realised it before now. "Right now, we have guests to entertain."

I try to defuse the awkwardness this has created between Joffrey and me. "I hardly think catching a ride counts as being your guests, Ms Lann– "

"Cersei."

"It hardly counts as being your guests, Cersei." I correct myself.

She looks me in the eye with a facial expression that walks the line between "harsh glare" and "playful smirk". "Anyone who a Lannister invites anywhere, even into a car for half an hour, can be called a guest. And besides, I believe next Saturday you will be our 'guest' in a more conventional fashion, won't you?"

"Yes," I smile. "Joffrey invited me."

"I heard," Cersei replies. "He could barely keep quiet about it yesterday."

Joffrey's cheeks flush with embarrassment. That's so adorable, I think to myself, he talked to his mum about me. "It'll be a great party," he says, turning to me. "I hired a band to play a private set for us. One of my favourites, you'll love them."

Arya suddenly opens her mouth. "Oh, she probably won't. Sansa only likes mainstream rubbish. She's so stupid. She won't even touch the punk-rock albums I try to lend her."

I'm livid inside. Arya is so tactless! And she was so sweet and quiet up until now. More than a part of me wants to playfully hit her on the arm like I would at home, but then I remember this is a Lannister car, and I must be polite. "Excuse my sister," I say, holding in my rage. "She's still young. I'm sure I'll love this band you hired. I do like quite a lot of music, you know, it's just that Arya here thinks everything that isn't hopelessly obscure is mainstream." I glare at my sister.

"I see," says Joffrey, and I notice with relief that he's still smiling. "I know how you feel. My little brother Tommen is exactly the same." He rolls his eyes.

"We're just about here, guys," Cersei says, pulling over. We're still a couple of blocks from school, but I suppose the Lannisters don't like to park near everyone else. They're far too superior for that. "I should be going now," she continues. "I need to get ready for this afternoon. I'm speaking with your Mr Baelish, about Joffrey. Nothing bad, of course, just how best the school can recognise his successes!" She beams, and looks fondly at her son. Of course, I know the real reason Cersei's meeting with Mr Baelish, but I'm not about to let the Lannisters know that I do.

"I need to hurry too," Joffrey says, already walking quickly towards school, leaving us standing on the kerb. "I have extra classes before school." Cersei smiles even more at this.

"Bye, Joffrey." I say, and Arya sulkily mumbles 'bye' from her place beside me.

"See you both around." He smiles genuinely, before disappearing around the block. Finally I'm alone with Arya, and I can tell her what I think.

"What the hell was that?" I don't usually curse, not even mild words like 'hell', but when I do, I do it around people who I know can take it, like my sister.

"What the hell was what?" She asks, with faux innocence.

"You know what." I seethe. "You had one job, Arya. Pretend you're my nice, quiet sister, just for half an hour, and not the fearless, occasionally violent girl that you are. And don't say anything bad about me. You failed on both those points."

"I don't trust them, Sansa," she sighs. "I just find them a bit…dodgy. Can't you just make friends with people who like the Starks, and go out with boys who like the Starks? Why does it have to be so complicated?"

I push her at this point, harder than I usually do, but still not as hard as Arya would with her friends. "You do not get to pick who I trust. I'm very capable of making that judgement myself." I say through gritted teeth. "You also definitely don't get to pick my friends. I don't need advice on that front from a twelve-year-old who only hangs out with violent little boys." She stares daggers at me, but I don't regret what I said.

After a bit of glaring at each other, I walk off in the direction of school, leaving Arya standing on the pavement, confused and pathetic.