Seven Dreams One Kingdom

42-Margaery

Margaery stitched the final threads of her wedding cloak, her fingers guiding the needle through the green velvet fabric. As she concentrated on the intricate pattern, a tapestry golden roses that would soon adorn her shoulders.

A discreet knock interrupted her focused solitude, and with a composed invitation, she bid the visitor to enter. Maester Wolkan, draped in his grey cloak and adorned with the chain of his order, shuffled into the room. The rhythmic clinking of his maester's chain accompanied his steps, a subtle reminder of the wisdom and knowledge he carried.

"A raven came for you, my Lady," he announced, presenting her with a scroll sealed in green wax.

Margaery's gaze fell upon the green wax, the distinct mark of House Tyrell. Accepting the missive with a gracious nod, she felt her heart quicken with anticipation.

"Thank you, Maester Wolkan. That will be all," she dismissed him, watching as the maester bowed and exited the room, leaving her alone with the words that awaited within the sealed scroll.

As she broke the seal, Lady Olenna's distinctive voice seemed to resonate in her mind. The inked words carried the wit and charm of her grandmother's character.

My dearest Margaery,

I look forward to seeing you bloom in winter roses. I have encountered a certain Samwell Tarly and am journeying with him to witness my granddaughter wed for the last time. He is a most companionable young gentleman, although he seems partial to pies.

Grandmother

A subtle smile tugged at the corners of Margaery's lips as she absorbed the news. Lady Olenna's presence at the upcoming nuptials, comforted her for the impending festivities. The mention of Samwell Tarly, accompanied by the humour about his fondness for pies, made her laugh, a subtle nod to his portly physique.

Margaery was beyond eager at this surprise news. She had hoped her grandmother would attend, but the difficulties for a woman her age, especially in such cold, harsh conditions, were a concern. However, Winterfell was built on hot springs, keeping the castle warm.

She wished to tell Sansa, to prepare for her arrival the Lady Olenna would have certain needs because of her age. Chambers on the ground floor being of utmost importance. However, Sansa was in a war meeting with Jon and a few members of the council, of which she hadn't been invited. Not because she was inadequate, but her knowledge of warfare was of little help to them. Instead, Sansa explained what was happening in a manner more appropriate for her understanding. After all, the men spoke with the uncouth languages of soldiers in these types of meetings. This gave Margaery time to put the finishing touches to her marriage cloak.

Another knock disturbed her excitement. "Come in." She called out, expecting Sansa to walk through the door, however Podrick Payne entered the room. Margaery set aside her cloak. "How can I help, Pod?"

"Their graces wish for you to join them in the war room." He said.

"Thank you, Podrick," Margaery said, placing the wedding cloak aside. Rising, she smoothed her skirts, and with a purposeful stride, she followed Podrick through the solemn corridors of Winterfell.

The austere walls of Winterfell, with their ancient stones, bore witness to the eons of stories etched into the North. Up the weathered stairs they ascended, navigating the castle that stood as a sentinel against the cold winds of winter. Margaery, carried the scroll that bore the joyful tidings from Lady Olenna, hoping to bear news of their political alignment with the south.

As they reached the war room, a stark contrast awaited them. The warmth of a crackling fire in the hearth embraced the chamber, and sunlight spilled through the windows, casting a golden glow upon the antique table at the room's centre. The banners of Stark and Targaryen, intertwined with tales of alliances and conflicts, hung proud alongside rich tapestries that adorned the walls.