Le Loup et la Rose | Margaery Tyrell

Chapter one

Chapter one

When the Lady Catelyn Stark arrived at Renly Baratheon's court, Margaery could see the tightness grow at Loras' mouth, and his vaguely suppressed annoyance behind his veil of mere seriousness.

Catelyn had spoken of her son vigorously. Margaery had only heard of the Lord Robb Stark, the king in the north through rumours. They said he was a man that was immune to death, seen riding on the back of a direwolf through the mountains of snow. Margaery could not deny Robb hadn't piqued her curiosity.

Catelyn did not speak of his war plans as plainly as Renly would've wanted, but much of his character.

Robb knew his duty, Margaery remembered Catelyn's words, and his sword all the same. He could wield it better than any man in Westeros. Robb Stark does not play with wars, she said, he fights wars. And, that caught Margaery's attention.

"You look most beautiful tonight, my lady, Margaery," Catelyn pointed out. Renly had invited Catelyn as an honoured guest at court, so she was bound to be seated at their table at supper. "I am sure you make his grace a very proud man."

"Why, thank you, Lady Catelyn," Margaery said with nothing more than a hint of a smile. Margaery was at the tender age of seventeen, blue eyed and graceful and slender as a knife. Cloaked with only the finest silks and cottons Renly Baratheon thought possible, to embrace only his wife's best features. Not that he cared very much what she looked like. He preferred the likes of her brother, Loras Tyrell. But her gowns and ornaments did appear like he did.

Renly was laughing in his cup with Loras when Catelyn spoke to her, and Margaery couldn't help but feel her bowels turn to water with jealousy. She just wished, for her own sake, maybe one day Renly would regard her as he did her brother. Maybe then she would been with child.

"Your family too," Catelyn said with her voice low.

Margaery didn't quite believe that. She may have been a queen at Renly's court, but she wasn't the queen. If Renly were to succeed in usurping the Iron Throne from the Lannisters, she would've been made the queen of all of Westeros, her family's only desire. But her grandmother, Olenna Tyrell, didn't see the delicate stag, Renly Baratheon doing anything of the sort. Yet, it would've given their family greater power in Westeros, and then surely, the Tyrells would be more than proud of their little Margaery.

Margaery tried to hide her doubt in her voice when she responded to Catelyn, but it was too obvious to go unnoticed by the Stark. Renly wasn't going to take back the Iron Throne from the Lannisters, despite his influence. He wasn't like Robb, Margaery thought and Catelyn knew.

When Catelyn retreated to her quarters, she had held Margaery's hand in a way that she felt something slide under her sleeve.

"Good night, your grace," Catelyn said, smiling.

*

Renly died in the battle against the Lannisters and their grandmother had sent their brother Garlan Tyrell to bring Margaery and Loras home.

"It should've been..." Loras said, "it should've been me that died..."

They were surrounded by Margaery's handmaids when Garlan arrived at Bitterbridge; like mice the women ran around the tent packing Margaery's gowns and ornaments into crates, ready to be taken to Highgarden. She was about to help them when Loras began sobbing, loud and unexpected. Margaery turned, softened by his tears.

She dismissed her ladies with a wave of her hand, and turned to him. "... that doesn't matter anymore, Loras, he fought and he fought and the Lannisters won. Nothing would've changed had you died."

That brought no ease to Loras. "But..."

Garlan's voice came through the tent before anything. "Margaery? Loras? Are you ready?"

"Your pain will be paid for, dear brother," Margaery whispered as she clutched his shoulders. They heard Garlan call again, and as though he could see through the tent, Margaery nodded absently and Garlan came through.

Garlan Tyrell was a tall stocky golden man. His eyes were the Tyrell's blue, and quick so he saw much and he was not pleased. He hoped Margaery was ready to leave, Garlan was growing restless with Bitterbridge and wanted set forth to Highgarden as soon as possible.

Garlan looked irritated. "We should've already been on our way," he said.

"And soon we will be, Garlan... Loras is just a little upset you see. We'll be done with packing as soon you leave, just give us a little longer... please."

Garlan nodded mutely. He had little patience, but did not show it any longer when he walked out of the tent, leaving Margaery and Loras alone.

The handmaids came in afterwards, and the tent emptied with just a bed and dresser left, Loras took Margaery by her elbow away from the crowd that led toward Highgarden's bannermen.

"What did the Lady Catelyn give to you that evening?" He asked. "I saw her slip something to you, Margaery. What was it?"

Under the heavy weight of her cloak, Margaery swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Margaery..." Loras tightened his grip, and Margaery shot him a stern look. "We are brother and sister, we tell each other everything, there is no need to start keeping secrets."

Margaery knew that all to be true, but what Catelyn gave her were for her eyes, and her eyes only. So she pulled her arm away when they came close to their horses and allowed an attendant to mount her up on the saddle. Loras watched her attentively, shaking his head when she refused to reveal what he had suspected.

Margaery pulled the tent open when Catelyn called out for her to enter. Inside, it was no different to that of her own, a bed, a dresser and table and a few candles here and there. Catelyn stood from the table with a warm smile plastered against her face, Margaery bowed her head and Catelyn, the same.

"I am pleased, my lady, decided to meet me here," she started, "I know how late it must be, you ought to have been put to sleep by your bedmaids."

Margaery smiled softly. "It doesn't matter, my lady..." she trailed off, somewhat uncertain. "You did want to discuss something private to me."

"Yes," Catelyn admitted.

"Then please,"

"I only wish to offer an alliance between the Tyrells and Starks," Catelyn said. Margaery held onto her sleeves tightly, her eyebrows rise in curiosity.

"Alliance..." she began. "How? Why?"

Catelyn crossed the room toward her, and took her arm. "Renly Baratheon is going to die," she said. "He is not built for things such as war, he is too soft, too feeble for the matters of men." Catelyn would've expected Margaery to feel somewhat insulted. She was insinuating that her husband was weak despite his title as king. But, Margaery didn't even like Renly, so she took no obvious offence, and Catelyn smiled hopelessly at that.

Her eyes searched her face. "So...?"

"Form an alliance with the Starks will strengthen the Tyrells, together they'd create a force made to be reckoned with," Catelyn said. "Marry my son, Robb Stark, and together we will destroy Cersei Lannister and her men."

Margaery tightened her grip at the reins of the horse, and moved lightly back and forth when they started their journey. Marry the Stark king? She thought to herself. Really?