"Push the table against it, now!" Margaery ordered.
Two knights grabbed the nearest table and dragged it, spilling goblets and plates onto the floor before shoving the table up against the door just as something slammed against it on the other side.
"Well… what now?" Mace Tyrell sagged against the wall, his tunic sticking to him with sweat.
"Did anyone get out?" Margaery.
No one said anything, which meant no one did. "But we have weapons now, and supplies," said one of the knights.
"Armed rats in a trap are still rats in a trap," Margaery said.
"Complaining helps no one!" Loras limped over, still clutching a bloodied sword in his grip.
"You should be resting."
Loras looked at her, his golden eyes hard and harsh. "And you need to keep a level head. This plan failed, we need a new one."
The plan had been hastily concocted after Garlan's wife was found murdered by the Lannisters. After calming Garlan and preventing him from marching out and publically demanding Cersei's head, they had come together to bring about a plan. They were going to break out of the Red Keep and take refuge with their army beyond the city. From there they could decide their next move.
It had seemed to go well at first. The knights of House Tyrell had slain the goldcloaks keeping watch on them and they had moved through the castle, collecting their allies before breaking out into the courtyard. One of the cleaners had slipped Loras a message in his tower and he broken out himself, leaping from a window on the second floor and twisting his foot on landing, but at least he was out. Then they rushed the gatehouse, but by chance they arrived just as the goldcloaks guarding it were changing shift, and with double the number of expected guardsmen, the Tyrells were unable to break through before the alarm was sounded and they were forced to beat a retreat. It had taken time for the castle to be roused, by which point they had retreated to this tower, above the castle granary. A Garlan had led a party of men to the armoury and seized weapons and arms for them and had only just made it back inside. Now they had food and weapons, but outside, the goldcloaks, kingsguard and Lannister men-at-arms gathered.
"What do we do?" Alla asked, her fearful voice a whisper.
"Let me think!" Margaery said. She rubber her eyes furiously. They couldn't be done yet, there had to be a way out.
"Just get me within reach of Cersei," Garlan growled threateningly. "She will pay for this!"
"I would sooner have an army around us," Margaery said. "Cersei will be punished for what she's done, but Leonette would not have us all die for revenge."
"Where is ser Reginar!" Mace demanded, apparently no tlistening to Margaery and Garlan. He along with many others was making his own demands and comments, House Tyrell was floundering now they were ensconced. But ser Reginar dutifully appeared. "Were you successful?"
Reginar shook his head. "No, my lord, I failed."
"Successful at what?" Margaery asked.
"I sent ser Reginar to the rookery," Mace explained.
"You can't send a raven to the army," Loras pointed out.
"And there's nothing Willas could do from Highgarden in time."
"But one could reach Dragonstone or Storm's End."
A silence fell throughout the tower at her father's words.
"Then we need a new plan." Margaery said.
"Start thinking," Loras told her. "And come up with something quickly."
()()()
"Someone's approaching the tower!"
"Swords!" Garlan ordered.
"It's no knight, ser Garlan, it's a woman."
"A woman?" Margaery got to her feet and hurried to the window along with Garlan and Loras. So far no one had attempted to attack the tower, Ser Mandon came too close for their comfort and had to dance back from a crossbow bolt striking the cobbles near his feet.
"That's Lady Alysanne." Margaery said. She hadn't expected that Cersei would come herself, but Lord Loren's wife was a surprising sight.
A Tyrell man levelled a crossbow through the arrow slit. "Only give the command, ser Garlan."
"No!" Margaery said, Garlan looked as though he was ready to give that order. "Let us see what she wants."
Her brother glared down at her, then clenched his jaw tightly and nodded.
She hurried to the bottom level of the tower, stepping over and around her household crowding the rooms and stairwells and down to the bottom room. A small circle with four knights ready at all times. Just as she arrived there was a knock on the door, as polite as could be.
"Open it, slightly." The knights glanced at each other, then one of them stepped forward. Taking the iron rung in one hand and using his weight as a stopper, he opened the door a crack allowing Margaery to peek through the crack in the doorway.
"Your grace," Alysanne said politely.
"Lady Alysanne," Margaery said, falling back into her natural courtesies.
"I have been sent to speak with you," Aysanne spoke as if she were a neighbour visiting for a day. "May I come in?"
Why would she willingly come in and make herself a hostage? Was this a trick? "What do you have to say?"
"You can give me your terms now."
"I do not come with terms," Alysanne replied calmly. "I come to speak with you on behalf of my husband." She glanced over her shoulder, then spoke more softly. "You will want to hear what I have to say."
"Why is that?"
"It may offer you a way out of your current situation."
Margaery wanted to slam the door and spit in her face all at the same time. Curse Loren Lannister, he could have put an end to this months ago. But right now they were drowning, and needed any lifeline they could grasp. Margaery stepped back and opened the door.
Garlan, Loras and Mace joined her at the base of the tower. If she was a spy, they didn't want Alysanne to see how crowded they were, how desperate, how poorly armed. So they would speak here. If Alysanne suspected why, she showed nothing.
"What terms does Lord Loren offer?" Mace asked.
"He does not offer terms, or ask for them. I am here to talk."
"If he doesn't send you with terms, then why does he send you?"
"Because he trusts me."
And yet he sends you here, where we could take you hostage. Garlan sat forward. "Trusts you to do what?
"To speak his mind to you, and not twist what he is offering for myself or anyone else; to honestly give your response and whether I believe you are speaking truths or falsehoods." Again she looked back over her shoulder at the closed door behind her. "He wants to speak with you in person."
"Then why didn't he come in person."
"He believed you might try to take him hostage."
"And why wouldn't we take you hostage?" Margaery asked.
"Because Cersei doesn't care for me, and would order her men to storm this tower whether or not you have me hostage. I am no shield for you."
Margaery scoffed. "Loren would never storm the tower with you here."
Alysanne gave a hint of a smile. "I know. But look outside and you will see there are five gold cloaks for every one of my husband's men. Cersei is capable of storming this tower without Lannister men at her back."
"She hasn't yet," Garlan pointed out. "And if she does we have the men and strength to kill nine of every ten goldcloaks who storm this tower."
Alysanne raised an eyebrow and spoke what they were all thinking. "Do you think that Cersei cares about the lives of the goldcloaks? Cooler heads are keeping her from storming this tower today, but that will not last forever. My husband requests to speak with you, tonight, He will speak in good faith and you will want to hear what he has to say."
"Will we?" Margaery said.
"I believe so. But do you lose anything by listening?"
"Why would he speak to us?" Mace Tyrell asked, taking firm control of the conversation.
"Because he wants to try and salvage this alliance, and he does not believe that you are responsible for Lord Farman's death."
"And Leonette, what does he think of the murder of my good-sister in the custody of the gold-cloaks?" Margaery had seen Garlan's jaw tighten and fist clench and asked the question before he could give voice to his anger.
Alysanne gave Garlan a look of pity. "I mourn your loss, ser, your wife was a good woman. But my husband and I have not spoken of it, so I cannot say his thoughts. I know he has questioned the goldcloaks who were meant to be with her, but I do not know what came of that conversation." She paused, and then spoke. "I know he has doubts, I can see it in him, even if he won't voice them. But if you agree to speak with him, you can ask him directly."
"It was Cersei," Garlan growled. "On my knighthood, I swear it."
Alysanne did not rise. "So, what is your reply to my husband?"
Margaery, Garlan and Mace waited in the bottom room of the tower again that very night, as soon as the sun had set. When there was a knock at the door the opened it and Loren entered, hooded and cloaked.
"Thank you for receiving me," Loren said. "And thank you for allowing my wife to return safely."
"We considered not," Margaery said.
"And I would have in your place, again, you have my thanks. You'll have to forgive the manner of devising this meeting however, we have no time and my purpose is grave."
"What do you mean we have no time?" Garlan demanded.
"My sister will give the order to storm the tower at dawn. Mandon Moore and the Hound will lead the attack." He looked at each of them in turn. "They have been ordered to leave no survivors." Everyone upstairs. But Loren had not finished. "Madness, rank madness."
"Then why are you not with them? And why would you warn us?"
"Because Cersei is mad." Margaery hadn't expected Loren to say it so openly. "Perhaps it was Joffrey's death, or all the other killings, or maybe she always was, regardless, it is clear that she can have no further role in the upbringing of the King or the stewardship of his kingdom."
Margaery unfolded her arms. "You intend to remove her from the regency?"
Loren nodded. "But I cannot do so alone. Cersei is Tommen's mother, she has the right to serve as his regent. Alone, I cannot overcome that right, only by consensus can she be removed." He looked at Mace Tyrell. "And you are still a great lord of the realm, and officially, the Master of Ships, and you, my lady, are the intended bride of the king." Not betrothed though. "I believe I can press the rest of the council into line, but if I act alone, I am just another tyrant, I need your support."
"And why should we give it?" Margaery demanded.
"Is your freedom not enough? My wife told you I do not believe that you killed Lord Farman, I believe the coins were planted there by Cersei, she has never approved of this alliance."
"And what of my wife?" Garlan demanded.
A pained look flashed on Loren's face. "I don't know, ser Garlan. I will not discount Cersei seeking revenge. She believes that you murdered Joffrey as well."
"What?!" Margaery demanded.
Loren nodded. "She always had suspicions, but after your attempted flight, she now believes it without doubt. That gives us the chance to remove her, but we must act now, the more deranged she is, the less… unclean it looks removing her. As Tommen's uncle I will take the position of Regent and Hand of the King, if you will back me."
"You want us to give you complete control over these kingdoms?"
"I am asking you to give the realm stable government. I take the regency, and we work together as we did before Joffrey's death."
"No." Margaery said flatly.
"Margaery." Mace said calmly.
"No, father." She continued. "No more. We need more than good governance. We came to your side after Renly's death, now we have been accused of murder and treason by you. We need more than just stable governance. You will become the Regent, but my father will be the Hand of the King."
Loren stood straight and firm. "No. We are in crisis, we cannot afford to have factionalism in the stewardship of the realm, a contest of power between the regent and the Hand."
"Are we not to work together for the better stewardship of the realm? What better way of showing that than by having you serve as regent, and my father as Hand."
Mace had sat back, letting Margaery take the lead here. "I wonder if you see how perilous our position is, we cannot risk it. Even if we move in lockstep, the court will divide."
"Then what will you give us?"
And so it began, the back and forth of sparring words, offers and counter-offers until they reached an accomodation that satisfied no one but they could all work with. "So." Loren said, anger seeping every syllable. "I will serve as Regent and Hand of the King. Ser Garlan will take my place as King's Marshall and command the armies against Shireen Baratheon." Margaery felt that this matter more than any other is what Loren disliked most. "After two years, or until the defeat of Shireen Baratheon, I will turn over the position of Hand to Lord Mace. Ser Loras will become the second in command of the Kingsguard officially and groomed to replace my brother as Lord Commander. House Tyrell will have the right to choose one of the members of the Kingsguard to be filled and Tyrell and Lannister knights will retain the right to bear arms in the Red Keep. When Tommen comes of age I will resign the Regency and return to Casterly Rock. And one year from now, Lelia will wed Willas to bind our union."
"In return we will publicly support your regency and announce that we hold the assassin responsible for Leonette's death." On that matter Garlan had been reluctant to give ground. He held Cersei responsible. But Loren had pointed out that he saw insufficient evidence that Margaery was complicit in Joffrey's death, and Garlan had little more than that to name Cersei as Leonette's killer. Until more evidence was found, Garlan would hold his tongue.
An uncomfortable silence hung between them. "When do we move?" Garlan asked through gritted teeth.
"I will come just before dawn with my men, then we move on the Keep."
"And the goldcloaks, the kingsguard?"
"Neither will pose a problem." He opened the door and paused, turning back to them. "Dawn." And left without another word.
Mace turned to her. "That was well done Margaery."
She nodded, the warmth of pride rising in her. In a single night, House Tyrell had recouped all it had lost. On the verge of destruction, they were now set to become the power brokers of the new order if Loren Lannister was true to his word.
"All it took was Leonette's life," Garlan muttered.
Margaery placed her hand on Garlan's shoulder. "We will never forget it," she vowed. She would never forget what it had cost them to rise this high. How foolish they had been to think they could rise to the top on a wave and crest it in glory. Rising high was a struggle that left you bloody and ruined, and Margaery would not forget the blood they had lost to get here.