Game of Thrones: New Era

Chapter 6 of my Game of Thrones story, we finally reach a new POV, enjoy.

Reviews

Boris Yeltsin: Indeed, sadly it's not had much effect.
wazzup11: Yup, well, she's not quite right in the head remember; thanks :)
Veridissima: Thanks, glad you enjoyed it :)
Marina Ka-Fai: She certain is :)
Wolfgirl2013: Thanks :)

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

Margaery

The colours were still too bright; but her vision no longer spun, she felt steady on her feet again. Margaery Tyrell bit her lip, blushing profusely as she looked around the room again, desperation once more colouring her actions. The reason for her embarrassment was simple.

'I've not idea how many days I've been captive here, but still they do not give me clothes...' She thought frantically, flinched as the cold air caused her naked skin to pebble. 'Urgh, I still can't think properly, or too clearly...Those drugs they force on me are still working.'

She shuddered at the thought of it; it had been Gods knows how many days she ended up being forced into taking an alternative route back to the castle. Yet that turned out to be a trap and she was ambushed by a group of six men who easily killed her escort and drugged her. When she had woken up, she was naked and still was. She was still held prisoner by these men who did not tell her what they wanted or who they were working for.

She shuddered at one implication which scared her. 'I've been kept naked all this time; but they haven't laid a hand on me yet, if that is not their purpose, what is?'

She didn't have an answer and that scared her more than anything.

She looked around the room, shivering and doing her best to cover her breasts and intimate area with her hands, for all the good it did her. The room wasn't all that large, with only a single stone bed, a thin ragged pelt to cover herself when she slept, a small table and chair upon which writing supplies were placed and a slop bucket in the corner.

The only door was locked and the barred windows, which let the cold air in to make her even more miserable, were up high in the walls, well out of reach. Finally however, things seemed to be normal again, the drugs were wearing off, giving her a moment of lucidity.

As she had done before she made her way to the table and, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the wood against her bare skin, sat on the chair. She immediately began writing, doing her best to keep a log of what has been happening to her, in case she needed it for later.

On the off chance that she was taken from here and the place found, her documents found, she included pleas for help within what she wrote.

'I wonder, is Cersei behind this. She has cause, but this set-up is a little too elaborate for what we've come to expect from Cersei.' Margaery wondered to herself. 'But then, she wasn't always so unbalanced; perchance she had some means in place beforehand and this is it being carried out, even with her the way she is now.'

It was then she heard the footsteps and panicked; acting quickly she took the letters and hid them with the others, within the folds of the pelt. Knowing they would be taken from her if she was caught with them. She also feared what would happen to herself if caught.

Once they were hidden, she desperately attempting to maintain her composure and, while doing her best to cover herself with her hands, maintain as much dignity as possible. The door opened to admit her captors, of which she only knew the name of one of them, having overheard while pretending to still be drugged.

That one was the first to enter, the man known as Rodrik, he observed her coldly, making her blush even harder, yet he hardly reacted to her nakedness. The next was a man of seven and thirty, tall with a lean muscular build, medium length greying black hair and black eyes.

Then came the Dothraki, a man of around two and forty with long braided black hair with bells tied through it and dark eyes, taller than the rest with a muscular build.

'Neither of them show any signs of wanting to rape me either...Nor does he, the other one?' Margaery noted as she observed the last one to enter. 'Where are the other two, there were six of them, oh what do they want now?'

The last one to enter was a Braavosi of around five and thirty, tall and thin with small brown eyes and a thin brown moustache, he was otherwise bald.

Immediately Margaery began to speak. "You cannot do this to me, I am the Queen, you shall..."

The man known as Rodrik shook his head. "Enough, you have no authority here. Elden, Illeo, hold her down, Kajaevvo, you know what to do."

Margaery started and tried to back away but was quickly grabbed by the second man she noticed and the Braavosi.

She struggled desperately as they dragged her to the bed, but rather than hold her down, in an attempt to rape her, they simply forced her down on the bed, holding her arms. The Dothraki then approached and put a stop to her screaming by grabbing her jaw and forcing it open.

Her eyes were wide and fearful until the reason became clear, Rodrik approached calmly and held out a vial, the liquid contents were then poured down her throat, despite her efforts to resist.

The effects were almost immediate and Margaery felt strange afterwards; they let her go and she sat up, trying to cover herself again.

"You will listen carefully to me, and you will answer my questions, is that understood." Rodrik remarked darkly.

Margaery nodded; that strange feeling spreading through her whole body.

Rodrik observed her dispassionately before asking. "Who are your lovers?"

"I don't have any." She replied at once; shocked by the question and by how surprisingly calm her answer sounded.

Shaking his head Rodrik continued. "How many times have you been unfaithful to King Tommen, how many men have you slept with?"

She replied again, despite her shock and outrage she still sounded strangely detached. "I have never been unfaithful to Tommen, there are no men..."

"You are still a maiden then?"

"Yes." She replied; again in that same detached voice.

With sigh Rodrik shook his head and stood up, seemingly unhappy.

"Well, this does not help us..." He paused before adding. "We'll have to report back and devise another way."

Illeo raised an eyebrow. "You are certain she is telling the truth."

Rodrik glared at him. "Of course she is; that potion forces the drinker to tell the truth."

With that they left, locking the door behind them.

Margaery shivered again; shocked at the recent turn of events; she was still imprisoned; yet now she was certain. Cersei had to be behind this, nobody else had tried to slander her so.

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.

Well, we bring back more of the Bloodseekers now, only two haven't been seen now :)