Margaery II
''How long do we have until we reach Harrenhal?'' Her cousin Desmera asked.
''A fortnight, I think. It depends on the weather.'' Ser Hobber Redwyne answered.
''You're wrong; it's just a few days. We just crossed the Blackwater Rush.'' His brother, Ser Horas, said.
''You complete imbecille. We have not passed Stoney Sept yet. It's not a few days.'' Ser Hobbar replied, slightly vexxed.
''Why in the seven hells would we pass Stoney Sept? It's west of us, and we're going north. This is why Father will name me the next Lord of the Arbor.''
''Shut up! You know nothing. I will be the next Lord of the Arbor.''
''No, you can't even read a map. I will b-...''
''Gods, will you both shut it?'' Loras Tyrell snapped, his voice pure venom. Margaery and her female cousins startled, and both the Redwyne twins lips tightened, a satisfied Loras turned his head back towards the window of the carriage, looking at nothing. Margaery was a little concerned for her brother, he had not been himself as of late. He had always been a little short-tempered, but it had grown worse now. Just a day before they were finally leaving Highgarden, a big farewell feast was held, with most of the Reach attending. Loras had still not recovered from Renly's death, but he had been getting a lot better. Margaery had even danced with him, as well as her Redwyne cousins, a Tarly boy, a Fossoway, and her Hightower cousin. Loras had been smiling a lot more, and she was hopeful, but then he had found out about a raven that had arrived some time ago from Castle Black. Men from both The Wall and Winterfell had perished beyond-the-wall. No one in the entire Reach seemed to be too bothered by the latest news, but her brother, in a fit, had thrown a table before storming out of the hall. And just like that, her brother had been just as he was when he had returned to her from King's Landing. Prone to anger and melancholy.
''I'm sure we will be there soon.'' Margaery said softly to Ser Hobber and Ser Horas. Both nodded, and the carriage fell into an uncomfortable silence. The carriage itself was a marvel of craftsmanship, spacious and opulently adorned with cushions of velvet and embroidered silks. Its large windows framed the picturesque landscape outside: fields of blooming flowers swaying in the gentle breeze and distant orchards filled with ripe fruit.
It was a large carriage, and Margaery Tyrell sat next to her brother near the window, who had once again fallen into melancholy. Across from them, Desmera Redwyne sat with her twin brothers, Hobber and Horas. And further away, on the seats to the far left of the carriage, sat Elinor, Alla, and Megga. The carriage continued its smooth journey through the pleasing landscape. Margaery leaned slightly forward, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm and a desperation to break the silence as she spoke.
''I heard that my brother Ser Garlan is going to win the joust, he has been training every day in Highgarden before we left.''
Desmera Redwyne's eyes lit up with excitement. ''Oh, I can't wait to see him unseat that smug Ser Jaime Lannister! Garlan's grace and skill will surely be unmatched.''
Ser Horas' eyes calmed as a new conversation began to flow, and he nodded. ''Let's not forget the archery, it will be just as exciting, I wager. I heard that an unknown archer from the Riverlands is causing quite a stir.''
''Truly?'' Elinor Tyrell asked, her eyes on their seats despite the distance between them. Desperate for a conversation, Alla and Megga were embroidering.
''Yes, a commoner. I forgot what they called him. But he is fairly young.''
Hobber grinned, his orange curls bouncing as the carriage hit a stone on the road. ''And the melee! I heard that King Robert has planned a melee with adults and young men fighting separately.''
''Oh? So you're saying that you have a chance of not coming last at the melee?'' Desmera said, smirking, her eyes sparkling. Loras snorted.
Hobber's face reddened, but he remained composed. ''You'll see, sister.''
''Have you trained?'' Margaery asked.
Hobber flushed. ''Yes, of course, my lady.''
''Then I'm sure you'll do fine. Don't listen to them,'' Margaery said with a soft smile. Loras turned his head toward her, one eyebrow raised. Margaery shook her head and rolled her eyes, amused.
''And the feasts! The grand feasts after each day of the tourney. The food, the music, the dancing—it's going to be splendid! Mira has insisted that she will get a dance with Ser Cobber.'' Elinor said, clapping her hands together.
Desmera laughed, a melodic sound that filled the carriage. ''Oh, Elinor, always thinking of the celebrations.'' Elinor frowned, making Margaery giggle.
Loras' shoulder struck hers, his amber-gold eyes amused. ''And let's not forget the suitors, sweet sister. There will be plenty of lords and knights eager to win your favor, I'm sure.''
Margaery's cheeks flushed slightly, but she maintained her composed smile. ''I am more interested in seeing our house shine. The tournament is an opportunity for us to demonstrate our strength.''
Horas turned his head towards his sister, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief. ''And you? Have you thought of the worthy knight you will bestow your favour on?''
Desmera ignored her brother and decided to join Loras in the teasing, her voice playful. ''Yes, Margaery, which knight will you choose to honor with your favor? It will be the talk of the tourney!''
The carriage echoed with their laughter and excitement, the anticipation of the tourney adding fresh energy to their journey. They kept discussing the upcoming event and ended up writing down on a huge piece of parchment all the knights that would be competing, and putting them against each other, discussing which would defeat which. They ended up declaring Barristan Selmy the winner. They moved on to the melee, where they had predicted Ser Jaime Lannister. And lastly, the archery, where they gave the winners medal to the mystery archer, despite none of them having ever seen him.
Both Ser Hobber and Ser Horas were wrong, it did not take a fortnight, nor did it take a few days. They ended up arriving at Harrenhal within a week. As the carriage approached the sprawling ruins of Harrenhal, Margaery leaned forward on the window, her eyes widening with amazement. Never before had she seen such a spectacle. The once-mighty castle, now in an imposing state of crumbling towers and scorched walls, loomed in the distance. Yet it was the buzzing of people and activity that truly captured her attention. The road leading to Harrenhal was lined with merchants selling their trade of food, trinkets, and coloured banners that fluttered in the breeze. Knights, nobles, and common folk mingled in a vibrant tapestry of activity. Children darted between the crowds, their laughter blending with the calls of merchants and the clatter of horses' hooves. The air was alive with the scents of roasted meats, sweet pastries, and the unmistakable aroma of excitement.
''Look!'' Desmera gasped, her eyes alight with wonder as she pointed to the sea of flags. ''The leaping silver trout of House Tully. The two blue towers of House Frey, a flock of ravens on scarlet surrounding a dead weirwood—that's House Blackwood. And there, the red and gold of House Bracken.''
''I've never seen so many people in one place.'' Hobber said, amazed.
As they neared the gates of Harrenhal, they spotted more banners. A golden inverted pile on sky blue with a yellow sun—that was House Lefford. The six white seashells on sand of House Westerling and House Farman's three silver ships on blue, with a border of crimson and gold. She froze for a second when she spotted the golden lion of House Lannister. ''If the Queen did it, she most certainly knows of our involvement.'' None saw the crowned stag of House Baratheon or the golden spear and red sun of House Nymeros Martell. Grandmother must be grateful.
The carriage came to a stop once they passed the main entrance, where a herald in the colors of House Whent announced them. She could feel hundreds of eyes on her as they disembarked the carriage. Marg smoothed her green-golden gown and took a deep breath, readying herself for the grand event ahead. She saw an old woman who could only be Lady Shella Whent, with her four sons and one daughter awaiting them. Next to them stood a man dressed in Tully colours. On the carriage behind her, she saw her father, mother, grandmother, brother Garlan, and good-sister Lady Leonette Fossoway disembarking. Margaery and Loras waited for their family to catch up before they all gracefully walked deeper inside the castle, to the Whent family awaiting them.
''Welcome, Lord and Lady Tyrell. House Whent is honoured to host such esteemed visitors.''
''The honour is all mine. These are my sons, Loras and Garlan. And my daughter, Margaery.'' Loras and Garlan bowed while Margaery curtsied.
''It's a pleasure to see all of you.'' Lady Shella said, her tone a mixture of fatigue and softness. ''My sons, Hoster, Rickard, and Devan.'' Her sons bowed.
''Lord Mace. Lady Alerie.'' The Tully man acknowledged.
''Lord Edmure.'' Her mother said softly while curtsing.
''Lord Edmure. It's been a long time since I've seen you last. The tourney at Lannisport, I believe.'' Lord Mace bellowed.
''Yes, it's good to see you in good health, my lord.'' Lord Edmure answered.
''Hoster, will you be so kind as to show them where they will be staying?'' Lady Shella asked. Before turning her head towards them. ''We have prepared chambers for all of you.''
''Yes, mother. Come with me, my lords and ladies.'' Hoster Whent spoke. The group followed Hoster Whent through the bustling courtyard, their path lined with curious onlookers and the occasional noble who offered polite nods of recognition. Margaery and Desmera walked beside each other, their heads held high and their arms crossed. While Loras and the rest of their cousins trailed closely behind, in front of them were her father and mother, together with Ser Garlan, who escorted her grandmother and his wife. The grandeur of Harrenhal was evident even in its current state. Massive stone walls towered above them, casting long shadows across the cobblestone paths. The air was filled with the sounds of preparation for the tourney—blacksmiths hammering, servants bustling about, and the distant laughter of children at play.
''Since King Robert asked for us to host this tourney two years ago, and with the crown's financial help, Harrenhal is looking a lot better than it did before. As of right now, work on the castle's west wing is still underway. So I would ask you all to avoid the area until further notice. We have prepared chambers befitting your status in the east wing, overlooking the Godswood.'' Hoster Whent said.
''It sounds lovely, Lord Whent. I have always found a Godswood to be a place of peace and reflection.'' Her mother said, smiling softly.
Hoster Whent returned her smile. ''I am pleased to hear that, my lady. The chambers are among the finest we have, and I trust you all will find them comfortable.''
They ascended a grand staircase, and with each step they took, they produced a soft echo. Tapestries depicting historical events and noble deeds adorned the walls, each telling a story of valor and legend. Margaery found herself momentarily lost in the rich details of one tapestry, depicting the legendary construction of Harrenhal by Harren the Black. Eventually, they arrived at a set of ornate wooden doors. With a nod from Hoster, the guard swung the door open to reveal a hall that had a dozen small wooden doors on the west, north, and east sides of the wall. Several Tyrell banners hung proudly on the walls between their chamber doors. She could also spot the banners of House Tully, House Arryn, House Martell, and House Stark.
''Here we are. These chambers to the left are at your disposal. Should you require anything, our servants are at your service. The tourney grounds are just outside the castle. This hall holds all the chambers of the Great Houses. With the royal family and House Lannister having their own separate hall. We are still awaiting the North, Dorne and the royal family. Once they arrive, a feast will be held in the Great Hall to welcome our honored guests.''
Garlan and Leonette claimed one of the chambers, their eyes taking in their chamber. ''Thank you, Lord Hoster. Your generosity is most appreciated.'' Her brother spoke with a smile.
Hoster Whent bowed and turned his head towards the Redwynes. ''If you would follow me, my lady and lords, your chambers are a few walks from here.'' Desmera, Horas, and Hobber followed him back from the hall before the door closed, and they were out of sight.
The Great Chamber Hall was truly a sight, a testament to lavishness and grandeur. High, vaulted ceilings were adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents, while rich tapestries depicting the histories and heraldry of noble families hung along the walls. Banners of the Great Houses draped proudly from polished wooden beams and the black stone walls. Creating a vibrant display of different colours. Plush, velvet-covered seating areas are arranged throughout, offering both comfort and luxury. Soft, golden light from ornate candle chandeliers bathed the hall in a warm glow, casting gentle shadows that danced across the polished black marble floor. The scent of fresh flowers and aromatic candles filled the air, adding to the sense of elegance and refinement. And a big carpet displaying the continent of Westeros was placed in the middle of the hall. They were alone in the hall; Stark and Martell had yet to arrive. Jon Arryn and his family presumably travelled with the king, and Edmure Tully was greeting arriving guests.
''Well, it certainly looks pleasing. I had feared King Robert would've had us sleep in the east wing as soon as the boy mentioned that they were building there.'' Olenna said.
''The King would not have gone so far, surely?'' Mace gasped.
''I would not slip anything by our king. He is still bitter about our allegiance during the Rebellion.'' Olenna replied candidly.
''Loras, brother.'' Garlan wrapped an arm around Loras' shoulder. ''I've already had a servant bring our stuff to the grounds; let us get comfortable there. We will both be spending a lot of our time there.'' Garlan said, and Loras answered with a vigorous nod.
''Be careful, husband.'' Leonette said slightly distraught.
''I always am!'' Garlan spoke with feigned shock before giving his wife a peck on the cheek and walked out of the hall with Loras.
''Where are our servants?'' Olenna asked impeniently.
The household servants and guards arrived a few minutes later with all their luggage. Margaery immediately began to unpack and claim her chamber. It was a haven of elegance and comfort, a perfect blend of opulence and serenity. The room was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows that allowed sunlight to stream in, casting a warm and inviting glow over the carefully chosen furnishings. With a four-poster bed draped with sheer, flowing curtains in shades of gold and green, the colors of House Tyrell. Once she was done unpacking, she approached and looked out the window. She could see the entire Godswood from here, and the large weirwood tree with crimson leaves and roots as big as men overstretched the entirety of the woods.
The day passed quickly, and she never had the time to properly explore everything before a tiny feast was held in the Great Hall to celebrate her family's arrival. She sat next to her brother Loras to her right and Desmera to her left. Around her sat the rest of her family. Platters of exquisitely prepared dishes were served with care: roasted pheasant glazed with honey and herbs, succulent slices of beef accompanied by rich gravy, and a variety of fresh vegetables, all cooked to perfection. Bowls of steaming soups, fragrant with spices, were served alongside baskets of freshly baked bread.
At the upper table sat Lady Whent and her sons. Although Margaery supposed that the royal family would eat there as well once they arrived. She could also spot various other nobles sitting at various tables around the Great Hall. Lord Tully, who sat with various Vale lords, and Kevan Lannister, Lord Tywin's brother, who sat with his sons and other Lannisters, Marg could not place them. Servants moved quietly among the diners, refilling goblets with fine wines and ensuring that each guest's plate remained full. The air was filled with the harmonious sounds of clinking glasses, soft applause, and the occasional burst of laughter for a particularly witty remark or a delightful piece of music played by a trio of musicians in the corner. It was a fairy-peaceful feast. Desmera spoke about being disappointed about the neutral atmosphere, but Horas claimed it was because many lords and ladies had yet to arrive. Things started to pick up, though, as more wine was served and the music got louder. Edmure Tully was preticoulary loud with his Riverlords. A Bracken and a Blackwood got into a little confrontation about a servant. The Blackwood son claimed that the servant served more wine to the Brackens than the Blackwoods. But it got defused before it got worse. Soon, all that could be heard were conversations and music. Margaery, Mira, and Elinor were talking with Ser Cobber and Ser Baelor Hightower when the door to the Great Hall suddenly opened. And a herald stood up, his chest puffing out as he announced.
''King Robert I of House Baratheon! The First of His Name! King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men! Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!''