"The wolf drew his greatest strength from his beloved wife... the queen of roses."
After the death of Renly Baratheon, Margaery Tyrell is sent North to seduce Robb Stark into an alliance between the Tyrells of the south and the Starks of the north...
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Robb Stark The Young Wolf
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Prologue
Despite the years, Margaery hadn't quite liked Winterfell. She was a Tyrell of Highgarden. There, everything was bright and airy, with trees, heavy with fruit and flowers, and fluffy evergreen bushes stretching far as the eye could see. Music dwindling through the city with thrills of laughter and cherry voices, and the continual clatter of carts from the market places. From her solar, she would have been able to see all of Highgarden's wonders, amidst the tall vines of golden roses.
Winterfell had different wonders. It had its dark places surrounded by a forest unwavering though it's years. Music didn't play here in Winterfell. It was not often that there was laughter and cherry voices that Margaery had remembered from Highgarden, but the sharp shrieks of metal, over the sound of the never ending hoarse voices that spoke of honour, family and war and of course: winter. Within the walls of the castle, doors were always closed to dampened the noise, though Margaery found it to be no use especially when the king, Robb Stark parlayed with several other noble houses of the north.
It wasn't everyday Margaery would be privileged to be alone in Winterfell. She always remained in her solar, surrounded by her handmaids that occupied themselves with tedious needlework and games. This was where her daughter, Lyarra would frown down at her stitches and glare over at her sister, Kenna and her beautiful needlework, whilst she sat among women far older than her. Margaery would glance furtively at Eddard's wet nurse sometimes, and then become desperate to play with him. But none of that happened today. They were all in godswood, with their smiles and laughter, enjoying what remained of winter whilst she hid inside Winterfell's walls.
Whenever Robb called the other houses in the north, Margaery knew where she would find them. She found a way through the labyrinth of halls and winding staircases to a large set of wood and iron doors left open for her appearance.
