A kidnapping, a reunion and being cold
Margaery
The grief was overwhelming, or at least it should have been for longer than it lasted. Loras was probably the only man she'd ever loved, although not in a romantic way. Margaery had been taught romance was never an option, so she had frozen her heart to love, it had helped her move from one dead husband, to another and now it turned out another one, although this one had taken her maidenhead thus she was no longer quite as desirable as she once was.
At first, Margaery was angry with her captors, she didn't want to leave the capital or her brother. Then she saw the Sept blow up, with almost everyone she loved inside. After that she was confused, why had she been captured, or for a better word, rescued. When the name Sansa Stark's was uttered, did her confusion increased. Why one earth would Sansa save her? The next obvious question, was where were they heading? It turned out to first be Dragonstone and then they would head north.
Their stop at Dragonstone was brief. Lord Seaworth departed to oversee the mining of some black glass while she was escorted to spend a night on dry-ish land. For the castle was dank, dark and damp. The chambers she was allocated weren't too bad. They were sumptuous, although they still had the grey stone walls and grey skies were all that could be seen. She supped with Brienne, Pod, Bronn and Ser Davos in a small room off the throne room, which Margaery had to admit, had a fantastic view.
"We've packed you some clothes Lady Margaery." Ser Davos told her. "There isn't much, just some old Targaryen items. Most of it is already at Winterfell for Lady Sansa to re-use."
"Queen Sansa." Brienne reminded him. Word had come from the north that Sansa and her half-brother, someone who's name she didn't know, had been named King and Queen in the north.
"Cersei won't care for them being named as such." Margaery said glumly.
"What can Cersei do about it?" Davos asked. "March north? Her troops wouldn't survive the cold. Jon and his armies would take the throne from them in a day." he said, handing her a letter. "This came from you, from Highgarden."
Margaery took the letter and stroked her finger over the golden wax seal of a rose. She opened the letter and read her grandmothers handwriting.
My dear Margaery
As you probably know, Loras is dead. Cersei killed him and everyone in the Sept. I was warned by Sansa Stark, who found out about the plot. She was able to rescue you but not Loras. To keep you safe, you will be sailing north to Winterfell for a while. Cersei won't be stupid enough to follow you there. I will help House Stark take care of you in every way possible, but you must make the most of your situation. I hear the northern King is most handsome although not very charming. Give Queen Sansa my best and her gratitude. Remember even roses can bloom in winter, grow strong my dear.
Your ever loving grandmother.
Tears welled up in Margaery's eyes as she read the letter twice, taking in the last part. She needed to know everything about everyone in the north, for there was a handsome King to be had.
A raven had arrived later that day, informing Ser Davos that Daenerys Targaryen had left Meereen and that the island needed to be evacuated. Although they were leaving that day, activity on the island seemed to increase tenfold. It seemed Ser Davos would be leaving the following week, which meant there would be some chaos in the north, or so Brienne told her. When they set sail for the north, Margaery didn't understand what the problem was. Then the ship stopped first at Maidenpool, to drop Bronn off, as he was returning to the Riverlands; the ship then continued on to White Harbor. According to Brienne, there needed to be at least a fortnight between the ships, preferably more. When the cargo from the large ship they'd been sailing on was transferred to a small flotilla of boats, she understood why. These were the only boats to take them up the White Knife River. They had to transport the goods to a place called Castle Cerwyn and then return to White Harbor for the next shipment. To make matters worse, it turned out King Jon wasn't even at Winterfell. For some reason; he'd gone north to Castle Black, the home of the Night's Watch, to escort his brother to Bear Island.
The north was colder than Margaery had ever imagined possible. No matter how many layers of clothing she donned, she couldn't stop shivering. To make matters worse, the accommodation on the boat was far from comfortable. She couldn't wait until she arrived on dry land. The boat journey did give Margaery time to think about the girl Sansa Stark who she'd known in Kings Landing. Her memory was of someone who was kind hearted, naive, vapid, and a scared little bird. Of course she was also beautiful and very good with a sewing needle. She knew the right words to say to flatter and was strong enough to suffer many beatings from Joffrey. Now she was the Queen in the North, although Margaery suspected she had only been granted that title due to her name and not due her leadership qualities.
The morning they reached Castle Cerwyn was grey and cold, pretty much like every day she'd experienced in the north so far. The Castle itself was even more dreary than Dragonstone. When she'd seen White Harbor, she'd had hope the northern Castles would be something akin to New Castle, which was more like a southron castle, however she was greatly disappointed by Castle Cerwyn. She was even more disappointed to meet the Lord himself, who was a scrawny man, and not particularly Lordly. No wonder Sansa had been desperate to go south if this was the quality of the northern men. Maybe the idea of the King being handsome was relative and would only be deemed that way by women who were familiar with the northern types.
As it was early morning when Margaery arrived at Castle Cerwyn, she was given the option to stay there or progress straight to Winterfell, which should only take half a day. The idea was greatly appealing, until she discovered they would need to travel by an open aired sleigh as carriages weren't viable in the snow covered ground. After much deliberation, Margaery decided Winterfell sounded more appealing, at least the castle had some sort of heating system, or so Sansa had told her. Margaery could survive another half day of cold if it meant the promise of no more travelling for a while.
A few hours later, Winterfell came into sight. Margaery had heard tell of its size, but was not prepared for what she encountered. It was even larger than the Red Keep, or so it appeared. They passed through a place which Brienne told her was called Winter Town before they reached the Castle itself. As they neared the large wooden gates, a horn sounded, notifying the inhabitants of their arrival. When the gates finally opened, Margaery was happy to see a courtyard which was significantly grander, cleaner and less dreary than the one at Castle Cerwyn. It wasn't perfect, but considering the climate, it was a design borne out of necessity rather than aesthetics.
Much to her disappointment, there was no grand welcoming party from which she was used to. Instead stood a tall woman with red hair, styled in a rather plain braid, dressed in a grey woollen dress, albeit, beautifully made. Alongside her stood a Maester and a tall portly gentleman who was dressed in a more southron manner. Margaery gingerly stepped down from the sleigh and made her way over to Sansa. Knowing her courtesy's, she curtsied in a proper manner. "Your grace." she bowed her head.
"Lady Margaery, please stand." Sansa said as Margaery got up to see a huge smile on the face of her once friend. "There is no need for such formalities between us, at least in private." she whispered with a twinkle in her eye. Clearly Sansa hadn't changed much. "Welcome to Winterfell."
Margaery took a proper look around the bustling castle grey castle. There were two forges, one seemed to be solely working on the black stuff which Brienne had called dragonglass, while the other was more traditional. There were kennels, a carpentry area, a training ground where she could see a number of men, women and children taking various lessons in swordplay and archery. The smell of baking bread wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble. The castle could only be described as alive. Despite the cold weather, the place itself had a warmth about it.
"You must be freezing." Sansa suddenly realised. "You are clearly not dressed for this weather. Let us get you inside, where it is warm and into something more appropriate for the weather." Sansa placed her arm through hers, like they used to walk, and she led her into one of the large drum keeps. "Lady Brienne, Podrick. You must both be freezing." she turned to the Maester. "Maester Wolkan, please see Lady Brienne and Podrick to their quarters, and have the servants bring them up some soup to warm them through." she returned to Margaery. "I've had the pipes fixed in the walls, so there is hot running water in the bath chambers." she grinned. "You can run a bath whenever you are ready. There are plenty of soaps and scented oils. It should warm you through." she added as they reached a doorway. The inside of her chambers was of a decent size. It wasn't ornately furnished, however there were tapestries adorning the walls, depicting wolves running through the woods. "I'm afraid our last direwolf is currently with Jon, but you'll get to meet him when they return." Sansa smiled.
Margaery was slightly unnerved at the prospect of meeting a direwolf. They had a reputation for being vicious, unruly beasts. "You have a pet wolf?" she asked.
Sansa laughed. "A direwolf is no pet, Ghost is wild." she said, Margaery looked on in horror.
"I thought you had one called Lady and she was very..." she tried to think of the most appropriate word.
"Well behaved." Sansa nodded. "She would allow me to groom her. Even Ghost allows me to brush him. Seven hells he needs it. White fur and mud are not a good combination. No, he tolerates it, then he finds more mud to roll in." she laughed as Margaery laughed with her, although she wasn't sure if it was funny or not. "You'll love him. He trusts those with true intentions. He wasn't particularly fond of Littlefinger."
Margaery frowned. "Speaking of which, where is he?" she asked.
"His ashes are in the Wolfswood." Sansa said calmly, to Margaery's surprise. "I had him executed for a number of crimes, too numerous to count. Did you know he helped organise Joffrey's death?" she asked.
Margaery swallowed. She had known her grandmother had been the key player in her former husband's death, and Sansa had played an unwitting part. Littlefinger had also been involved, but to what extent, she didn't know. How much Sansa was aware of scared Margaery. "I'm not surprised." was all she could say without implicating her grandmother. Sansa eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing more about it.
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. "Enter." Sansa said as a maid opened the door and bowed her head. "The cook sent up some chicken soup and warm bread for the Lady Margaery." she told them.
"Put it down on the table." Sansa instructed as the maid placed it on a table between the two chairs next to the blazing fire. The maid left the room and Sansa turned her attention back to Margaery once more. "I'm sorry, you must be weary from your journey. I shall leave you for now, and let you rest and get comfortable; have some food to warm you through and a nice warm bath to make you more comfortable. We can dine together tonight in my solar, have some wine and catch up on all of the gossip. I'll have some more appropriate clothes sent to your room. I'm afraid they aren't adorned with Tyrell roses, but I'm sure we can discuss ways to change them to make them more suitable for you." she smiled. "I'm afraid we have to make do and re-use our wears. After all winter is here. I will see you this evening." Sansa said.
"Thank you." Margaery smiled, and she meant it. The welcome was warm and so was the room, despite the cold outside. "I look forward to your company." she bowed her head and Sansa left her alone to relax.
Margaery had come to many conclusions when she arrived at Sansa's solar that evening. The Queen was essentially the same person, older, a little wiser, and probably stronger, but other than that, she still seemed slightly slow and of little cunning. Sansa's rooms were far more opulent than her own, a sign that she was the Queen. If these were her chambers, she wondered what the King's chambers would be like. As Sansa had never really mentioned the brother who was now King, Margaery was dying to know all about him. However, she was aware she couldn't seem too eager, after all she had only just lost her own husband, which must have been why Sansa had left her a black dress to wear, as she was officially in mourning.
They chatted as they dined, mainly about the happenings of Kings Landing. Sansa explained to her that she discovered the wildfire plot through Littlefinger's spies and had decided to save her, knowing she would want to be by Loras side. Margaery shed real tears for her brother and father, and a few fake ones for her former husband, who it turned out, had been led to believe Margaery was in the Sept, which was why he'd killed himself. Moreover, she wept for her loss of position; she was no longer a Queen. Only two moons ago, Sansa would have been kneeling to Margaery, now it was the other way around. She even mentioned the irony of it, when they started on their wine. This was when Margaery planned her attack. Sansa had never been able to hold her wine, whereas Margaery had been raised to be able to control herself while under the influence. It was a useful ability, the easiest way to loosen a tongue was with alcohol and gossip.
"Now, we've heard enough about me. What of your brother? You never mentioned him while we were in Kings Landing. I take it you weren't close." she asked.
Sansa shook her head. "When father brought home a child who wasn't my mother's, she was unhappy. To her, Jon was a living reminder of my father's indiscretions. As soon as I was old enough to understand, I was kept away from Jon. She didn't want to raise a daughter who associated with bastards. Of course, Arya adored him. They always got on." Sansa smiled. "But mother kept me away from him most of the time."
"So you don't get on?" Margaery frowned.
"It wasn't that we didn't get on. We didn't know each other. I looked down on him..." Sansa almost looked ashamed.
"And he's taken your crown. You should be Queen in your own right." Margaery offered.
Sansa took a deep breath. "What have you heard about Jon?"
"I haven't heard anything. Nobody spoke about him." Margaery shook her head. "Oh yes, I've heard he's broody and handsome. But it doesn't take a lot to make a man handsome among these northern men." she japed, but Sansa didn't laugh.
"Jon would turn heads in Kings Landing." Sansa laughed. "He has this natural ability which makes people want to follow him. He fights for what is right. He doesn't always fight fair, he does what has to be done. He listens to people..." she started as there was a knock on the door. "Come in." Sansa called out as a maid scuttled in to clear the table. "Mabel." Sansa spoke to the maid. "I have a question to ask, and I want you to speak with honesty and truth. Don't worry what I have to say, there will be no repercussions, nor will a word of what you say leave this room."
"Yes your grace." Mabel looked at Sansa cautiously.
"How would you describe his grace the King?" Sansa asked. "I'm asking from the perspective of a woman, not his servant."
Mabel blushed. "I...er.."
"How do the ladies in the kitchen describe him?" Sansa rephrased the question.
"I think what they say in kitchens might not be for the ears of such delicate ladies as your grace and My Lady." Mabel shook her head.
Margaery was fascinated. "Her grace and I are women of the world, we want the gossip. Take a seat. I've never met him." she leaned in on the maid. "Her grace might not be objective enough."
Mabel nodded. "Well, Daisy and Lettie, they were here before he joined the Watch. Because he was a bastard, all the girls thought they might have a chance with him. It was always the conversation in the kitchens, who would the girls want to bed, Lord Robb or the bastard."
"And who usually won out?" Sansa asked, clearly she hadn't heard this either.
"His grace did. Lord Robb was handsome, but he'd already had a few of the maids. His grace was...err..."
"More of a challenge?" Margaery offered and the maid nodded.
"He was too shy. Handsome, humble, kind, a bit broody but it suited him. He's also funny. Anyways the girls cried when he joined the watch. Or so Daisy and Lettie say." Mabel smiled.
"And now?" Margaery raised an eyebrow.
Mabel's eyes glazed over. "They'd all give their right arm for a night with him."
"Because he's a King?" Margaery asked.
Mabel looked at her as if she'd grown another head. "Ooh no. It's because he's...sexy." she whispered, as Sansa laughed out loud. "And because we want to know if he's hot."
"Hot?" Margaery laughed, although Sansa had suddenly stopped and gone quiet.
"To know if his dragon blood makes him hot to the touch. Of course, nobody dare ask." Mabel's eyes dropped.
"I think that's enough." Sansa said. "You can leave us now Mabel."
"Of course your grace." Mabel bowed her head and left them alone.
"Dragon blood?" Margaery asked.
Sansa nodded. "He's not my half-brother. He's my cousin. His sire was Rhaegar Targaryen. And he's no bastard either." Margaery looked at Sansa in disbelief. "I know they say prince Rhaegar had something about him, people loved him, wanted to fight for him and easily attracted attention. I always thought it was because he was a Targaryen prince, but Jon doesn't look like a Targaryen, yet he has the same qualities. Rhaegar was said to be broody, Jon is the same. Oh, Jon's real name is Aegon Targaryen, but he prefers Jon."
"Your father hid the rightful heir to the Iron Throne from his best friend, who happened to be King?" Margaery couldn't believe her ears.
Sansa nodded. "Jon is probably the most desired man in the entire Seven Kingdoms. I wouldn't be surprised if the Dragon Queen wants his hand in marriage, even if he is her nephew."
"That's very strange." Margaery frowned. "Although I suppose not for Targaryen's."
"Well, he's not available." Sansa smiled. "He's already betrothed."
"To who?" Margaery asked.
"To me." Sansa replied.