authorsnotes: chapter 20 and we have something new

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songrecs: I wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

Her feet were starting to hurt.

She felt like she'd been waiting for hours, but she knew it was closer to just one, but still.

At Willas' note, knowing her brother always had a method to any scheme he proposed (and a method that would have been thoroughly thought out, planned, debated in his head and perhaps with their Grandmother and then planned again before being handed to her), she had quickly brushed her hair, sprayed perfume and put a dab of mint on her tongue, before hurrying out into the halls of White Harbour in just a night gown and robe.

She was quick and deft and knew her goal, knew how to dive into nooks to avoid being seen by either Stark guards or her own. Knew how to sneak out the side door to her rooms and stick to the shadows to get to her destination.

Which was Robb Stark, the King himself.

She had done this before, sneaking around at night, quiet as a mouse, avoiding servants, even sometimes family members. She was quick and clever, and that was to her benefit now as she waited, hidden in the shadows, waited and waited.

It was tiring, as what felt like hours (but she knew was really only minutes) passed, and yet then, she heard the door to the room Willas had instructed her to wait by, open, close, and two quiet voices.

"I'll always be with you brother" That was Robb Stark, the King, her intended, or at the very least the man she needed to make her intended.

"Always" The second voice she recognized as Jon Snow, Robbs bastard brother who'd arrived earlier. Willas was clearly concerned about this changing dynamic, urging her to secure their alliance quicker than planned, she wasn't sure why, but she'd longed stopped questioning Willas' plans, bar her Grandmother he was the most cunning of them all.

And so, if Willas had sent her an urgent note asking her to 'go to the King' 'urgently' 'with haste' 'secure the alliance', she wasn't going to question why things in the official channels per-say had broken down or weren't moving quickly enough, she would do as asked and question later.

She could wonder though.

It had to be to do with Jon Snow surely. Was Willas worried Jon Snow would steal his brother's crown? No, surely not, there was no precedence for that. Was he worried Jon would be Robbs Heir instead of Sansa? And so if Robb died the North would be useless to them? That seemed likely and could explain the urgency for her to marry Robb and get her own Heir, but she was still sure she was missing something.

And yet, she had no further time to ruminate and try to guess her brothers thoughts (which in truth was a pointless endeavor, Willas revealed things at his own pace and was impossible to read, she wondered how Sansa managed such an annoyance), as she heard the brothers part, and saw Robb Stark turn down the corridor she was hiding in.

Like a stroke of fate, or luck, she grinned, and then quickly darting out into the corridor, to obscure the fact she'd been hiding at all, she kept her head on her toes, and with two deliberate steps crashed into the King as he turned down the corridor.

Perfect timing if she did say so herself.

"Oh" She said, and that was authentic, she'd always found it was easier to fake some elements of being innocent or conniving, and easier to have some happen through her falsehoods, and so when she bumped into Robb Stark, King of the North and prospective groom, she threw herself into the 'fall' hard enough for it to be real, and so the gasp that left her lips was quite authentic indeed.

And yet, she didn't hit the floor, giving her the ability to fake an injury or to need a hand up, as she'd anticipated. Instead, Robb Stark, with the hands and arms she was now noticing were quite strong, caught her, his hands quickly gripping her waist, not painfully, but firmly, to right her, with a nod.

He was proper too, as soon as he righted her (with those strong arms, and the hands had she been wearing one of her dresses that exposed her ribs, she was sure would feel rough and calloused), he released her and took a proper step back, countering her intentions entirely.

But, Margaery was not one to let her first plan being interrupted, interrupt her, or what she needed to do, and so with a bashful smile (one she'd quite literally practiced in the mirror several times), she quickly dipped into a low curtsey, her head bowing, the skirts of her robe swirling on the floor, open just enough to show a hint of her leg, but not enough to be truly improper.

She'd spent five minutes fixing it just so at the waist, she wouldn't waste that now.

"Your Grace" She said in a voice that was part teasing, part innocence. She didn't quite have a read on Robb Stark yet, but he was a Northerner, she doubted he wanted a Southern seductress, and so she was trying to be what she was guessing he wanted to see; an innocent, pretty bride, beautiful and sweet.

She'd tried to learn more about him, asking Sansa just enough questions to seem like an eager match for her brother, and not enough to tip her into suspicion. She'd learned that Robb was kind, honest, driven by duty (weren't all Starks?), had always been trained to be the Lord of Winterfell, and that Sansa had been unsurprised when he'd called the banners to defend their home, avenge their Father and rescue her and Arya, according to Sansa that had been the exact thing she would have expected Robb to do, which said a lot about him.

Margaery had tried to joke with Sansa about whether Robb had ever had any crushes but Sansa had been scandalized, said Robb would never put a woman in a compromising position, Margaery had simply shared a look with Willas and backed off.

And so though she knew Robb wouldn't mistreat her, and was kind (all good things in her books), she really had no clue as to what he was looking for in someone, and how to ensnare him.

In truth, Margaery knew the alliance was solid for him, the Reach had soldiers, but more importantly to Northerners they had an abundance of food and supplies, which the King needed.

And yet, Margaery knew there would be reluctance for the alliance. Northerners were different, Willas had told her so just weeks earlier when they'd reached Highgarden, and met up with their Grandmother to discuss the trip North and her marriage.

'You have to remember Margaery, Northerners are a different beast' Willas said gently, which worried her, Willas wasn't really gentle to her anymore, he was a kind and loving brother but he'd long stopped shielding her from the realities of the world, they couldn't afford for her to be sheltered.

'Beasts indeed' Her Grandmother had chimed in, 'The North is wild and untamed, and so are the men'

'Indeed' Willas had nodded, 'By all accounts King Robb is just and fair, but we do not know his character. We know he will not dishonor you, but little beyond that.'

'I understand' Margaery had said with a nod, she would not give them any reason to doubt her commitment to this match, she wanted to be Queen, not a Queen, the Queen, and this was realistically the only path to that at the moment. 'He can't be any worse than Joffrey.'

'No' Willas acquiesced, she knew Willas cared about her, he and their Grandmother had plotted to kill a King when he'd mistreated her after all, but she also knew he cared for this family, for the Tyrell name too.

House Tyrell: Growing Strong, they had a precarious position in the Reach, a hard Kingdom to rule, not for the same reasons as the North, with its vastness and hardships, the Reach was much more political, there was little loyalty to the Tyrells, where she knew the Starks had it from their bannermen in spades. Here it was politicking and cunning, and they had to be always careful, always making the next move to secure their future.

This was the next move.

'But we don't know him' Willas said with a sad smile, 'Not at all really'

'We know he is the best person though?' Margaery said, 'For what we want?'

'Yes' Her Grandmother said simply, 'There are fewer and fewer options, this is the best'

'Then we are decided' Margaery said with a small smile, for it was, this was her role, one she took willingly, but also the only she'd ever known.

'Lets hope we don't have to ..deal with another King' Willas offered as levity, but it was only when her Grandmother scolded him did Margaery manage a small laugh, even as fear fluttered in her heart.

"My Lady" Robb nodded to her, and she grinned as she pulled herself to standing, she was a few inches shorter than the King, who was several inches shorter than Willas lanky frame, and yet he seemed bigger somehow than his height, occupying the space, and Margaery felt nerves flutter in her tummy before she clamped down on them.

There was no time for nerves now.

"I apologize for my clumsiness" She teased, and the King smiled at her, and yet he seemed reserved, and that concerned her, she had hoped the King would be a green boy, and yet his smile was tight.

Though she swore as she 'fixed' her robe, flashing a tiny bit more skin she saw something glimmer in his gaze.

There.

"It is quite alright" He said, and then he continued, and Margaery though her expression remained with a small, pleasant smile knew she had something here, "Are you well? Do you need something?"

He was humble, she had learned that, for a King to be asking a Lady if she needed something, humble, and noble. She learned more and more about Robb Stark as the seconds ticked on.

Not the best thing, but she could work with it. Many boys were noble, until they were tempted.

For a moment Margaery wished she didn't have to do this, this game as she offered him a gentle smile, wished they could meet and talk, and just be a normal betrothed couple. Get to know each other, fall in love, spend time together, be happy without any deceptions, at least on her part.

But she wasn't normal, neither was he. He was a King, she wanted to be Queen, and they both had Kingdoms and families to think of.

There was no normality here.

"I'm quite well your Grace" She said with a dip of her head, "Not quite used to the cold yet I'm afraid" She teased, and at the small smile that flickered on his lips she grinned, and even mocked rubbing her arms up and down her shoulders, "I don't know how you don't all freeze" She joked, just teasing enough, she didn't insult his home, but complimented him instead, and did so in a voice that added an edge of being impressed but didn't move over to simpering.

Honestly sometimes it was utterly and completely exhausting being her.

"This is almost warm for me here, I'm afraid my Lady being a Southerner, I'm not sure you've ever felt real cold, and I don't recommend it" He joked back, and she could see something there, underneath the layers of royalty and duty and responsibility, she could see a man, only a year or two older than her, a man with more responsibility than she, a woman forced into marriage, had even ever known, but a man with wants and desires all the same.

Maybe that she could work with.

"Indeed?" She said, and then decided to be bold, "Then perhaps I shouldn't want to marry you, if you'll sweep me off to Winterfell and I'll be chilly forever in the real cold!" She teased. She knew it was risky, to mention their possible impending marriage so soon, reminding them both of it, and yet they both knew it, to her it made sense to be open about it, one of the few times she would and could be open.

Also, she knew with Robb she'd need to be more honest. As much as she could see him smiling, and found herself drawn to said smile, he was no green boy, and she knew Starks above all else appreciated justice, duty, honour, and honesty, she would not get far by deceiving him.

At least any more than she already had.

Robb Stark would not be flattered or manipulated, or at least he couldn't know he was being so.

With that in mind, and his kind, handsome smile, his broad shoulders, the look in his eye that was only getting stronger, Margaery was just realizing as Robb smiled at her … a handsome smile, this might be much, much more difficult than she'd hoped.

"Even Winterfell isn't real cold" Robb offered, and then he said with a bashful smile, and oh goodness he was handsome, "I've been to the Wall and even I near froze"

"I'll have to avoid that then" Margaery teased, and then feeling as though she was losing some ground in ... something, "Though there are ways to keep warm" She said with a little grin trying to get back on path.

But then –

"There are" Robb said, and something smoldered in his gaze, and oh goodness, a fire she hadn't known Northerners or maybe any man could possess was clear in his gaze, not a glimmer, a burning, that had been fostering since she'd flashed some leg and dipped her head. "I wouldn't let you freeze my Lady"

"No?" She said adjusting herself as her voice was just a pitch high, unplanned, and normally she would have taken a step forward then, perhaps brushed a hand over Robbs collar, and yet she knew that wouldn't work here, had enough left to know it wouldn't, and even felt some nerves at the idea, and...and instead cocked her head, "Will the great King save me from some icicles?" She teased, and at his grin she giggled, and that felt natural, normal, real and-

Oh gods.

"You are trouble" He said against all convention, and Margaery gasped in mock indignation smothering her surprise, but also … she'd never been called trouble before, trouble suggested not innocence, and something worried her that he thought that, worried her that he was seeing past her, that was dangerous.

"I think you'll find I am a dutiful daughter and Lady" She said scoldingly, but the teasing edge remained, even as worry crawled at her belly, even as she struggled to hold onto keeping her voice neutral, that high pitch she only ever got when she was nervous creeping back in.

"I wasn't questioning that" Robb said quickly, "I apologise if you thought otherwise, I just meant … you seem far too charming for your own good" She could see the honestly there, she found herself liking it, terrifying as it was. He'd both reassured her and apologized for any implied insult, and then complimented her …this was something she didn't quite know how to handle, well she didn't know how to handle any of this in truth.

One conversation with Robb Stark where she was supposed to be charming him, perhaps getting too close and forcing his marriage hand, perhaps teasing and playing with him, and it felt like she had fallen on the floor at the start, the wind, and the wiles knocked out of her.

"Can a person be too charming?" She mused, but mainly because in truth she was a little stumped, she wasn't used to such honesty, to a lack of back-and-forth teasing, and that smolder in the Kings eye … how did she deal with that? How did she deal with any of this?

"I'll no doubt find out" He offered with a smirk, and the way he said it so assured.. what did that mean? He bowed his head then, "Shall I walk you back to your rooms my Lady?" The way he said it, as though their marriage was pre-decided when nothing had been discussed, it made her hopeful, and yet … worried. Here he was, he'd called her charming, even with his honesty, the lack of ... smoothness so many Southern men practiced that in truth she hated, he had a natural charm, and that look ... knocked off her feet indeed.

Could she handle Robb Stark?

What if she couldn't? And not out of concern for her wellbeing, no, she knew just looking at him, wild as Northerners were, and she could see some of that wildness here, in that look, in all of him, he would never hurt her, and yet her heart, was that at risk?

Or worse … her façade?

"That would be lovely" She said with a shy smile, forgetting any of the pretense she'd meant to use for her wandering the corridors, and instead as he held an arm out to her, she took it.

Took it, and as he offered another smile, one full of confidence that she often faked but Robb Stark just seemed to have, Margaery shivered, and stepped closer, though not out of any desire to manipulate this time, it just felt natural.

And was, as Robb took her arm and walked her back up the corridor, that fire in his eyes (for that was what it was), not fading, even as he asked her for her first impressions of the North and she managed answers, finding composure (not enough, not enough), even as she thought to herself that Robb Stark was different, and this wouldn't be easy, and that terrified her.

and there we go, pairing two established (and the rest of it will be quickly), only one to go - any guesses?

margaery might be a little out of her depth here, how do you manipulate an honorable stark? she'll try ... will she fail? and will that be good or bad?

sansa/willas will be back next chapter and woooosh there might be some ... issues with marital bliss

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