A Greeting, a Meeting, and a Plotting
Margaery
King Jon was a broody man, of that there was no doubt. Margaery had struggled to look him in the eye since she'd witnessed him and Sansa together, although she had no problem with her friend as she'd stayed fully clothed. Jon had a habit of making her blush, something no man had truly achieved since she was a young girl. The King was handsome, sexy and clearly a fantastic lover, but he was moody and broody, which was a little off-putting. However it soon became clear that Jon and Sansa had had an argument, because Sansa was also snappier than usual. Sansa had pretended it was because they were hoping their sister Arya would return. And although Margaery wasn't convinced by her excuse, in truth she hoped the faceless assassin didn't come back for the wedding. The girl sounded terrifying. The fact that Margaery was still sharing Sansa's bed told her that Jon and Sansa were not currently on speaking terms. Then three days after Jon returned, matters were made worse and Winterfell was turned upside down.
A meeting was called of the northern council. Margaery joined the King and Sansa in the map room, as well as; Davos, Brienne, Pod, Lord Royce, Lady Lyanna, Lord Glover, Maester Wolkan, Edd Tollett, and Lord Manderly. Once they were all seated around the table, Jon stood to take command of the meeting.
"This morning, we received this letter, it was sent five days ago." he took out a scroll and began to read.
On behalf of Queen Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name, I, Tyrion Lannister will be arriving at Winterfell within the sennight to discuss a mutual partnership. My Queen commands the combined forces of Dorne and the Reach, an Ironborn fleet, legions of Unsullied, a Dothraki horde and three dragons. The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on the Iron Throne . Together we can end her tyranny. I appeal to you, one princely bastard to another, for all dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes.
Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen
"I don't like the use of the word partnership." Sansa frowned. "Is he suggesting the King marries Daenerys?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Looks like it to me." Davos nodded.
"Mayhaps we should delay the wedding." Sansa snapped.
"No." Jon shook his head. "Let him attend. That way they have no leverage for a marriage."
"Consummation will need to be proven." Margaery said, she was met with a wall of silence.
"You know him better than any of us." Jon looked to Sansa, who looked back at him for what must have been the first time in days. "What do you think?"
"Tyrion is not like the other Lannisters. He was always kind to me, but it's too great a risk. 'The Seven Kingdoms will bleed as long as Cersei sits on the Iron Throne. Join us. Together we can end her tyranny.' I wonder why he's choosing to visit instead of demanding we go to Dragonstone and swear fealty." Sansa frowned.
"She needs Westerosi partners. Grandmother said she tried to talk her into joining them, but she refused." Margaery told them.
"Lady Margaery is right. With only Dorne and the Iron Islands, Daenerys looks weak." Jon started.
"She knows who you are. She's worried. We have the combined fealty of the north, the vale and the Riverlands." Sansa said.
"And the Reach." Margaery smiled.
"We aren't asking for your fealty." Jon told her.
"But you have it anyway." Margaery smiled.
Davos picked up the letter and read it. "Sounds like a charmer. Of course, the casual mention of a Dothraki horde, a legion of Unsullied and three dragons, a bit less charming." Davos paused. "Maybe Queen Sansa is right. Daenerys wants you to bend the knee. Being married to Sansa makes her a target. As long as she is Queen, you can't bend the knee. But if you marry Daenerys, you will have access to that enormous army to fight the dead."
"No!" Jon slammed his fist on the table. Margaery realised Jon had said something which had upset Sansa, he'd tried apologies, but they weren't working. And she suspected Daenerys had something to do with the row, after all the Dragon Queen was his aunt. Mayhaps this wasn't the first mention of a potential union between the two of them. Rumour had it Daenerys was the most beautiful woman in all of the known world. Sansa was probably feeling insecure and jealous. Suddenly everything made sense. "I am not marrying my aunt. That is final!" his eyes glared, and for the first time, Margaery noticed them looking almost purple. And judging from the way everyone else was staring at Jon, she wasn't the only one to notice.
"Fuckin hell, you've gone all fire and blood on us Jon." the Lord Commander stated, then looked sheepish. "Sorry ladies, my Queen. We tend to curse a lot at the Night's Watch, it's a bad habit."
Jon frowned. "What?" everyone looked to Sansa to respond, but her lips were in a tight thin line, however Brienne came to the rescue.
"Your eyes, your grace. They look...purple." she winced.
"Well, they could be described as a funny shade of blue. Shall I burn you?" Edd japed, which for some reason made Jon chuckle and diffused the situation slightly.
"As I was saying." Jon seemed calmer. "The only woman I will ever contemplate taking as a wife is Queen Sansa. If she wants to postpone or not proceed with the wedding, I will still not consider taking Daenerys as a wife. I'd take the black first." he shuddered. That comment softened Sansa's face a little, but only someone who knew her well would spot it.
"So is the wedding to proceed as planned?" Margaery wanted to know. "I'll be going to castle Cerwyn on the morrow to meet with Dickon Tarly." she had been tasked to escort the Lord of Horn Hill to Winterfell as she was from the Reach. A task she was not looking forward to.
Sansa raised her eyes to look to the ceiling. "It will continue, unless Queen Sansa wishes to postpone it."
"The wedding will go ahead your grace." Sansa replied, without conviction.
"Good." Jon nodded. "Lady Margaery, I will be accompanying you to Castle Cerwyn, where I will escort Tyrion Lannister..." he started.
"You will do no such thing!" Sansa snapped. "He is not a King, nor is he the hand of any Queen who is recognised in Westeros. Lady Margaery is the dowager Queen in the South, the country his Mistress wishes to conquer. Therefore Dowager Queen Margaery is the most senior southron advisor we have. He should not be offended by being greeted by her." Sansa turned to Margaery. "Do you think you could entertain both Dickon Tarly and Tyrion Lannister for a day?" she asked.
"If I can entertain the court in Kings Landing, then I'm sure those two will be of little bother." Margaery was finally glad that she was being referred to by her proper title. She understood why they only ever called her Lady as opposed to Dowager Queen; after all nobody referred to her by that title after Renly died. Not only that, the person who should have been sat on the Iron Throne all along, was just a few feet away from her. Tommen and Joffrey were in truth false kings.
The meeting was over, the wedding was to take place in five days and Margaery would be leaving first thing in the morning to meet with Dickon and Tyrion. Jon and Sansa had stayed behind in the room, probably for the first time since whatever had transpired.
"I wonder what the argument was about." Margaery said quietly as they made their way down the stone steps.
"What every argument is about between married couples. Someone opens their mouth without thinking." Edd Tollett shrugged.
"Aye." Davos nodded. "The amount of rows me and me missus have had because I said something without thinking."
Brienne huffed behind them. "Men!" she complained.
Late the following afternoon, Margaery had arrived at Castle Cerwyn. She greeted the skinny Lord, but this time she was far more cordial. Having encountered him at Winterfell on a number of occasions, she knew how to flatter him sufficiently without being flirtatious.
Most of the boats had been emptied and the bushels of grain loaded onto sleighs, ready to start their journey to Winterfell the next day. The final boat in the flotilla housed both Dickon Tarly and Tyrion Lannister. Margaery was able to make out Tyrion immediately for he was of a distinctive stature, bit Margaery couldn't make out which one of the other men was Dickon Tarly. From her memory, he was fat and nervous, unless of course that was Samwell Tarly.
Tyrion waddled onto land and made his way over to her. "Dowager Queen Margaery, what a pleasant surprise." Tyrion frowned. "I had heard you were..."
"Dead?" Margaery smiled. "Her grace, Queen Sansa, knew of plots within the capital and was able to rescue me before the explosion." she said as a dark-skinned man stood behind Tyrion, who was clearly his guard and judging by his shaven head, this was one of the infamous Unsullied.
"Well I must say I am grateful for her swift actions." Tyrion took Margaery's hand and kissed the back of it. Out of the corner of her eye, Margaery noticed a tall man, completely covered from head to toe in furs, making his way over to them. Once he reached them, he pulled some of the furs down from over his mouth.
"Your Grace." he bowed and took Margaery's hand. Her stomach flew into her throat and all memory of Jon Snow disappeared from her thoughts. This man was almost as tall as the hound, broad, he had kind blue eyes, a square jaw which was currently covered with a blonde beard.
"Here in the north I am simply Lady Margaery." Margaery blushed like a little girl.
"Here in the north I am freezing cold, as is my companion, Lord Tarly." Tyrion interrupted as both she and Dickon stared at each other.
Remembering why she was there, Margaery smiled. "I will escort you to Castle Cerwyn. It isn't as grand and warm as Winterfell, and the Godswood is no where near as heavenly, but the food is warm and Lord Cerwyn will have ale at the ready."
Later that evening they were sat in the great hall at Castle Cerwyn, trying to keep warm by the fire. Normally Margaery would have gone to bed rather than being left alone with the three men, however, she knew Tyrion would try to work on Dickon to drag him to the cause of the Dragon Queen. After all, if Daenerys couldn't have Jon, she'd still want a handsome young King and Margaery was suddenly feeling very protective of the young men of Westeros and the North, especially as Dickon was one of her own bannermen.
"I was sorry to hear of your father and Ser Loras. You must be quite devastated." Dickon offered his condolences.
"It was a terrible shock at the time. I am now coming to terms of the deaths of my father, brother and husband."
"Hmm." Tyrion swirled the wine around in his goblet. "I'm surprised you haven't been vying for the role of a northern Queen." he raised an eyebrow.
"But I am still in mourning..." she started.
"Save me the tale of devastation and loss. I know you were only married to my nephew for his title. Is that why you are in the north? To gain the title of Queen? Is that why Lady Olenna has been so gracious to donate twenty thousand bushels of grain to the north?" Tyrion raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"The King is already betrothed." Margaery frowned.
"Oh yes, to my wife, I believe." Tyrion sucked in his cheeks.
"Littlefinger annulled the marriage, on the grounds of non-consummation." Margaery narrowed her eyes, suddenly feeling defensive to her new family. "She was married to Ramsay Bolton, who made Joffrey look like a kitten in comparison."
"All betrothals can be undone." Tyrion smiled slyly.
"That would require those involved in the betrothal to want it to be...undone." Margaery smiled sweetly, but inside she was getting angry with Tyrion, now she understood Sansa's anger. Tyrion knew Jon was betrothed, yet he still came anyway.
"I'm sure my former wife has had enough of marriage. She wasn't particularly fond of her bastard brother, while I knew her. I can't see she'd be too bothered about him now, other than his name and title. I suspect the marriage is political." Tyrion took a gulp of wine.
"It is a political match." Margaery agreed. "If your Queen wishes to marry King Jon, then she's too late. The marriage is to take place in three days."
"A marriage can be set aside." Tyrion shrugged. "Mine own is a perfect example of how easily that can happen. Lady Sansa is beautiful, but against the dragon Queen, I'm sure Jon would prefer..."
"How do you know what he would prefer?" Margaery raised an eyebrow. "From the stories I hear, he likes a woman to be kissed by fire."
"That is rather fortuitous, do you not think?" Tyrion chuckled, taking another sip of his wine. "The Dragon Queen can walk through the flames. She is more than kissed by fire, she is the living embodiment of it. Jon would probably want to kiss that fire." his comment was strange, so Margaery ignored it.
Margaery wanted to correct him, but decided against it. "Lord Tarly. Are you wed yet?" she asked, more for personal reasons than anything else.
"Tell her yes. Otherwise she'll have you wed, bed and then within a year you'll be dead." Tyrion whispered loudly.
"No my Lady, I mean your grace." Dickon shook his head, ignoring Tyrion.
"Wrong answer!" Tyrion slurred.
"Please, call me Margaery." she placed her hand over Dickon's and smiled sweetly, just as she heard a cough coming from Tyrion, which Margaery ignored. "Are you betrothed?"
"Don't mind me. I'm just a drunk dwarf." Tyrion snorted.
"No my...Margaery. My brother was supposed to become Lord but he took the black, and now I'm busy learning the lordly duties."
"Lordly duties? You mean fucking the local whores?" Tyrion slurred.
"Is your brother Samwell Tarly?" Margaery ignored Tyrion and decided to play stupid, she knew full well who Dickon's brother was.
"Yes." Dickon replied.
"I believe he is King Jon's best friend." she told him, but Dickon blanched.
"My father didn't want Sam to be Lord. If his grace knows..." he started.
"His grace is most kind and forgiving." Margaery smiled.
"Gods save me." Tyrion cried. "You called Joffrey caring and forgiving and kind. Can you not spout one word of truth from your mouth?" he suddenly snapped, obviously he'd had too much wine.
Dickon stood up, angry with Tyrion. "You should not speak to a Lady like that." he said, but Tyrion never replied as he slipped from the chair and onto the floor, completely unconscious. Knowing how much alcohol Tyrion Lannister could withstand and knowing he'd only had two cups, Margaery knew something was off.
"Fetch the Maester. Something is wrong with Lord Tyrion." she cried.
The next morning, Tyrion was awake and being transported in a covered sleigh to Winterfell. Nobody could establish what had caused Tyrion's problems the night before. Poison was ruled out as he had eaten and drunk the same as Dickon and Margaery, they'd even been sharing the same carafe of wine when he took ill. Yet, deep down, Margaery herself was suspicious of foul play. She knew there was a chance there could be a faceless assassin lurking somewhere in the north. Although Arya was the first person to come to Margaery's mind, another more sinister consideration had to be made. Did Cersei have someone in the north, because if she did, Tyrion wouldn't be the only major target.
When they reached Winterfell, Jon and Sansa were there to greet them as a King and Queen should, Tyrion and Dickon were shown to their quarters, while Margaery ushered Sansa into the Queen's chambers.
"Your grace, I think Tyrion may have been poisoned." she told her.
"How?" Sansa asked. "Were there not food tasters?"
"His guard, Mouse Boy, or something like that, he tasted everything Tyrion ate, he was fine. We all drank from the same carafe of wine. It is just... he seemed like he'd been given a truth serum." Margaery explained. "But whatever it was, it has made me nervous. Cersei might not try and invade the north, but she would send an assassin. Her three most hated people in the world are in Winterfell right now."
Sansa nodded. "We need to be careful. From now on all foods must be tasted, especially for us three and... Jon." she sighed.
"Are you and his grace getting on any better?" Margaery raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" Sansa asked.
"Sansa, this is me you are talking to. It is clear you and the King are having a difference or opinion on some matter. If you want to ensure he is not wed to this Dragon Queen, then you must forgive him for whatever his trespasses were." Margaery smiled. "I would alternatively suggest you flirt with Dickon Tarly to make the King jealous, but I did want to..." she blushed.
"Lady Margaery, have you actually taken a fancy to a man for his comeliness as opposed to his position?" Sansa smirked. "After all, he is rather handsome."
"And very muscular." Margaery sighed.
"You haven't... already?" Sansa looked at her in shock.
Margaery shook her head. "Gods no. but once he's out of those horrible furs, you can see his arms." she sighed. "I just wanted to touch them."
"Well I never. Margaery Tyrell in love... or at least lust. Now that is a cause for a celebration feast." Sansa smiled, looking better than she had since Jon had returned. "And don't worry about Jon and I. We have have had far worse arguments than this before. We always make up."
"Were you King and Queen the last time you argued so badly?" Margaery asked, but Sansa didn't answer. "Tyrion may have been drunk or drugged, but he spoke plainly. His intention is to talk Jon into setting you aside. He cares not whether you are married, he'll use non-consummation as the excuse."
Sansa paled. "He wouldn't."
Margaery looked at her sadly, Tyrion would want proof of the bedding. "He will. And he'll want to witness it himself."
Sansa's faced hardened. "He's going to want a show."
Margaery smiled as she suddenly had an idea. "Then give him a show. One where there is no doubt that you two are inseparable."