31

Chapter 31: Ch31 Awkward

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 31 Awkward

Margaery Tyrell

She was walking as befit a lady, and the future Lady of Highgarden. The day was filled with strangeness...and alarm...mainly alarm. Alarm, most of all. And she hadn't been this alarmed since she'd realised that Cersei wasn't coming to her own trial.

Father and Grandmother had been locked in talks with Grandfather and Cousin Paxter since the moment they'd arrived and she had no idea what was happening.

Normally, she wouldn't be worried but having seen Maester Lomys head suddenly put on a spike...normal had gone out the window and she'd been sitting on her nerves since that development. As the meeting dragged on, it ate at her not knowing what was really going on. This second life had been filled to the brim with surprises and unexpected developments...Lomys's sudden execution and the length of the meeting was not filling her with any comfort.

Just as Grandmother had taught her, she'd been hiding it all day. She'd played the part of the dutiful lady, seeing to the guests and the men that come along with the Lords.

And even then she'd had to hide her surprise. She'd found among grandfather's men Dickon Tarly. She'd known him for years, Randyll Tarly's favourite son. He'd looked immensely uncomfortable and he kept his head down and tried to hide among the Hightower men.

She understood why he was so discomforted, in the other life he'd helped his father sack Highgarden. She hadn't missed the looks of hostility that were being shot at him by a great many of the Tyrell guardsmen. When he'd finally noticed her, he'd turned a very amusing shade of red and stammered a greeting, that had put a smile on her face at the sheer awkwardness of the greeting. He'd been evasive, though friendly as he'd then avoided answering any in depth questions she asked him.

It had been an amusing distraction for her, at least momentarily from her worries...but the day went on and Margaery's worries continued to plague her.

Thankfully, she'd have some answers soon. A servant had informed her that Grandmother was waiting for Margaery in Grandmother's special garden.

She entered the garden and looked around, grandmother's table was set, with wine and cheeses laid out, candles giving light illumination to the darkened garden. A couple of moderately distant torches gave the garden further light.

Wine and cheese? At this hour? Margaery thought in surprise. Grandmother never had neither this late, it was already almost sundown. She always complained that it gave her too much gas during the night.

The garden was deserted except for Grandmother's two distant guards, Left and Right as she called them. They stood at attention at the entrance of the garden. She passed them by and entered the garden. Her eyes quickly found Grandmother.

Grandmother was in her garden...but she wasn't sitting in her usual place. Or at the table waiting for her to join her. Grandmother was pacing back and forth.

Margaery's already intense worry grew worse.

Grandmother never paced.

She always said that pacing was a waste of time and effort- and it betrayed ones intentions. It was better to sit quietly and think. To stay in control and not give any watchers a clue about one's thoughts.

She approached quickly, "Grandmother?" she called out hesitantly.

Grandmother turned towards her voice, she looked strained, with an unreadable expression on her face. She gestured Margaery towards her as she stopped pacing and quietly took a seat at the prepared table.

Grandmother was uncharacteristically quiet as she sat, Margaery took the seat next to her. Grandmother gave her a searching look as her face remained unreadable. Margaery waiting for Grandmother to begin...but the silence stretched out.

"Grandmother..." Margaery prompted, "What's happened?"

Grandmother's face twisted, "My dear, sweet Margaery...for once in my life, I find that I don't know where to start," she said with a deep sigh. Sitting with Grandmother now, Margaery could her face better now. Close up now, the unreadable expression was recognizable.

She looked scared.

Panic...that was what Margaery was leaning towards now. First, Grandmother was pacing and now she looked afraid? In the name of the Old Gods and the New! What was going on? What had happened?!

"Surly, it can't be that bad, Grandmother?" Margaery began urgently, "We know what is coming now. And neither of us will underestimate Cersei this time."

Grandmother snorted with derision, "We have already underestimated several, most recently, Samwell."

"Sam?" Margaery gave her a look of disbelief, "Sam's harmless. He wouldn't hurt a fly..."

"Samwell Tarly is the new Lord of the Reach and Warden of the South," she retorted interrupting Margaery.

Margaery's mind came to an abrupt stop, "What?"

"The boy has become very good at playing the game of thrones," Grandmother remarked in a very dry tone.

She gaped, her composure failing her, "And you agreed to this? Father agreed to this?" She didn't think that Father's ego could accept this...

Grandmother gave her a strained smile, "When not even your Grandfather or my nephew are willing to support your father, it doesn't become a choice..."

She felt lightheaded, Grandfather was...

"...We were lucky that they spoke privately with us, if they had spoken openly things would have gone much worse for our House," Grandmother finished. Outright fear flashed across her face for a moment, "In light of what is happening...this is actually a good thing, your father cannot face what is coming. Samwell knows the threat that is facing us all- romantic fool that he is"

A threat. Yes, though more like threats, the Targaryens and the Lannisters. Both Houses would rip apart Westeros to claim the Iron Throne. And Jaime Lannister would pay dearly for taking Loras from her!

"So what will become of us then? Will father swear fealty to Sam?" she asked as her mind began working thought he implications of this upheaval in the Reach.

Grandmother shook her head, "No, he will not, the title of Lord of the Reach will revert back to House to Tyrell after the crisis has passed- but not to your father. Your husband will be the next Lord of the Reach."

Margaery nodded once, "That will keep Father quiet...now all we have to do is find me a proper husband."

Grandmother was giving her an amused smile, her eyes sparkled and she raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, so I already have a new betrothed already?" she asked amused at how some things didn't change.

"Clever girl," Grandmother nodded, "Your grandfather arranged it, and it will help consolidate much of the Reach behind you and Samwell."

She was a little dismayed as the obvious husband came to mind, "So I'm to marry Sam?" It wasn't that she disliked him, he was kind and gentle. Or at least he was. But he was fat, her previous husbands for all of Renly's lack desire for her, for Joffrey's cruelties, and Tommen's youth, they had all been handsome- or outright pretty at times.

Grandmother's lips twisted into a grimace, "Unfortunately no. The Romantic fool already has a future intended despite the disapproval of the rest of us. No, you are going to marry Dickon."

Margaery started, "Dickon?" she paused for moment as something occurred to her, "Sam refused to marry me? If not me, than who is he marrying?"

"He called her, Gilly, and she is a Wildling," Grandmother said with exasperation, "The boy's smart, but a romantic fool."

For a moment she balked at the words, "A Wildling...instead of me?"

Grandmother shook her head, "As I said, a romantic fool," she muttered in disgust, she waved her hand irritably, "his children could have ruled the Reach, but no- the boy's in love."

Margaery blinked and found herself rather insulted and bewildered at Sam's refusal.

"Dickon was the second best option. By marrying him, we'll have the backing of both the Tarly's and the Florents. I imagined a grander marriage for you, but all things considered- and I considered many of the second sons of the other Great Houses, particularity the Starks, but this is a still a very good option," Grandmother continued unabated, almost rambling, "Samwell is also ally and friend of the Starks and in light of the secrets he revealed, I have no desire to cross them. And Samwell is very close to them now."

"And the Starks matter? The Starks were fools. They were mighty on the battlefield but weak at playing the game," Margaery remarked confused by why, all of sudden the Starks mattered so much to Grandmother.

"Eddard Stark is cannier than I ever imagined- he is one more person that has managed to outplay us. House Stark has grown in strength beyond anything I, or you, could realistically imagine," Grandmother admitted with a disbelieving laugh.

Margaery frowned, "You called him an honorable fool. Robb Stark as well."

Grandmother nodded, "Aye, they are. Robb Stark is another romantic fool, but men like them do not make the same mistakes twice. They have made terrible mistakes...and this makes them all the more dangerous now," she finished gravely, her eyes hard with emotion.

Margaery thought carefully, before pursing her lips and asked, "You said Eddard Stark was canny. What did you mean?"

Grandmother gave her a wolfish and rueful smile, "His bastard son, Jon Snow...is no bastard. He is Rhaegar Targaryen's trueborn heir. He is the King we are declaring for now. He is also as close to Samwell as Eddard and Robert once were."

And just like that she was beginning to see why grandmother was so out of sorts....and envious.

"A...Stark King," Margaery sputtered.

Grandmother nodded, "Yes, for all intents and purposes, a Stark King. One wearing Targaryen colors."

This changed the entire political map of Westeros. This would shatter the Kingdoms, and cause even more turmoil than the War of the Five Kings. The North and the Riverlands would stand behind that King. The Stormlands would stand with Robert. The Westerlands would stand alone, as would Dorne, the Iron Islands would attack everyone again...and the Vale would do whatever that madwoman Lysa Arryn decided to do- or Baelish pushed her towards. It would be utter chaos. She said as much to grandmother.

Grandmother snorted, "You would think so but Samwell has informed me that Tyrion Lannister is now Lord of the West- and he is also apparently a friend of our new King. And Lord Royce is apparently seizing power in the Vale and is bowing to the Stark King. So that's the North, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Iron Islands and the Westerlands all bowing to Stark's hidden King." Grandmother looked impressed and disturbed at the same time, "And according to Samwell, Daenerys will also support her nephew- in the Targaryen fashion," she paused and held her hands up, "And just like that, there is no war between the Kingdoms. There will be fighting but no war- not against the living. Neither Dorne nor the Stormlands can stand against us all."

Margaery sat back in shock, "This is...very well planned," she managed to say. Yes, it was all a masterful stroke. She paused and frowned, it was far beyond a masterful stroke, and yet... "You seem afraid of the Starks now. Why? What else has happened?"

"Of course I am! With good reason!" exclaimed Grandmother, "Eddard Stark's nephew is going to be King! And Stark's youngest daughter is a Faceless Man! Arya Stark didn't die, she became a bloody Faceless Man!"

"A Fa..faceless Man?" Margaery stuttered. How in the name of the Old Gods and the new had something like that happened?!

"Yes! A damned Faceless Man, to cross the Starks now is death- and by extension both the King and House Tully," Grandmother spat angrily, "She also happens to be the King's favourite sister. She even destroyed the Freys is a single night...and it is a dark tale. Very Dark...and even Sansa is to be feared! Cersei always called her a little dove. Well Cersei was wrong! Sansa is wolf and my...are her teeth sharp. We all underestimated Sansa," she ranted unhappily.

Margaery hadn't even recovered from the first shock, she stared at her Grandmother and snorted is disbelief, "Sansa...the girl is as naive as they come!"

"Once perhaps, but not now," she paused and pursed her lips unhappily, "You remember the rumors they told of Bolton's bastard?"

Margaery shifted uncomfortably, the rumors that reached King's Landing had said that he practiced House Bolton's ancient and bloody legacy. She nodded unhappily.

"The weak little girl fed him to his own dogs," Grandmother explained in fascinated exasperation.

Sansa...Sansa...now Margaery was feeling faint as she remembered the sweet and kind girl she'd met in King's Landing. The world didn't make any sense any more. Loras was gone and now Sansa was a fearsome woman not to be crossed...

Silence descended on them, as the two Ladies of House Tyrell became lost in thought.

"And Lomys? Why is his head on a spike?" she asked suddenly. What prompted the sudden execution of the loyal maester? Nothing grandmother had said yet, explained that.

Grandmother paled and then turned red, anger suddenly shining in her eyes, she took Margaery's hand into her own, "Because he's a traitor of the worst kind! Forgive me, my dear, there is no delicate way to say this." Grandmother hesitated and sighed, "He murdered your mother."

All sense fled her, and she felt faint. She couldn't believe grandmother's words, but this was not something she would jape about. Memories flashed by her mind's eye of how Lomys had always been there for them after mother was gone...for both her and Loras. And Father. He'd been so supportive and kind to them...but the truth was he'd murdered her mother!

"...your father acted rightly," Grandmother continued with a proud tone, "He stabbed Lomys to death, before your Grandfather could..."

Because why not? Winter had finally come to the Seven Hells, if Grandmother was proud of how father was acting...not to mention father was now stabbing people to death...

"Why...why?" was all she managed to say.

Grandmother paused again before speaking of the how far Lomys and the Citadel's betrayal went. It was spread all across Westeros. It was incomprehensible...Unimaginable...And oh so true...

No wonder Grandfather had stirred from his Hightower, he'd come for vengeance for mother!

She felt a tear run down her face as she mourned her mother.

She shook herself before melancholy could seize her, as a fear gripped her instead, she sensed that Grandmother wasn't finished, "But that isn't all of it...is it?"

The fear returned to Grandmother's face, "There is one more...catastrophe. No one in Highgarden could have predicted this."

She carefully explained Brandon Stark's part in it all...because the Starks actually needed to be even more powerful! Never mind the sheer gratitude so many in Westeros would feel towards the boy for this second chance!

And then grandmother spoke of the Others...and even mother's murder and Loras's death seemed insignificant next to that. A second Long Night was coming and Margaery wanted to scream in rage and frustration.

"...so monsters are coming to kill us all," Grandmother spat in disgust and fear, finishing her horrifying tale, "If we survive, then we get back to consolidating our hold on the Reach...unopposed, this time."

Margaery sat back deep in thought, terrified of all of Grandmother's revelations. This wasn't the world she remembered, the people she knew were all present but only their resemblance remained...and since when did the world contain monsters that were not men? First Dragons...and now White Walkers?

Men like Gregor Clegane and Tywin Lannister were facts of life, such men always existed but...the Others? Ancient legends should stay ancient legends! They should not become true! They most certainly should not be coming to kill them all!

She shuddered, ice eating at her innards, suddenly afraid of the coming future.

Now...now, she understood why her grandmother, the indomitable Queen of Thorns was so afraid.

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Time passed as they sat in the garden, the sun set and servants came and lit more torches as they sat silently. There were no more words to be had between them. Time was what she needed- what they both needed. Time to adjust to this new reality they were trapped in. Monsters, magic and conspiracies that spoke of unimaginable evil and harm.

They sat quietly together in contemplation, drinking the wine and nibbling at the cheese. A servant had brought sweets and they both devoured them quickly, neither paying attention to the proper manners of a lady. This was their spot now, to come to terms with all that had changed.

Their quiet place didn't stay undisturbed. Visitors came to see them. Sam and Dickon entered the garden, Sam looking confidant and Dickon looking discomforted as Left and Right gave him acid looks as he passed between them.

"Lady Olenna, Lady Margaery," Sam bowed deeply and smiled at the pair of them. Dickon followed his lead and bowed.

Grandmother nodded at Sam before turning piercing eyes at Dickon, "Ah, Lord Dickon come to see your betrothed, have you?"

"What?!" exclaimed Dickon, his head turning back and forth between Sam and her.

"Congratulations, brother, I've arranged a betrothal for you to the Lady Margaery, you will the next Lord of Highgarden," Sam said innocently, with a satisfied smile on his face.

Dickon stared at Sam, his face turning pale, his mouth wide open with shock.

Didn't Sam tell him?

Dickon looked at Margaery and then back at Sam, "This your revenge for all I did to you growing up...isn't it?" he declared in a mournful tone.

"I have no idea what you're talking about brother," Sam said with the same sweet innocence tone, "Perhaps you should have a walk with your betrothed, I have some things to discuss with Lady Olenna," he suggested, just as sweetly, as he took a seat next to grandmother. The kind smile with the chubby cheeks and round face was just as she remembered it, unchanged by the madness of the new world. But, the cheeky tone and words, were far too bold for the old Sam.

Grandmother raised an eyebrow at the byplay, before waving them off, "Go, my dear I'm sure you much to discuss with Lord Dickon."

Dickon nervously swallowed as he fearfully met grandmother's eyes before turning to Margaery and bowing, he held out an arm for her to take, "It would be my honor to walk with you, my lady," he said in a fairly steady tone.

She stood up and took his arm gracefully, "It has been a long time since we talked...and now we have wedding preparations to discuss."

Dickon looked a more than a little pained now, but he didn't add anything more, he just guided her out of grandmother's garden, leaving Sam and Grandmother to their talk.

They walked arm in arm, even with all her training, she found she didn't know how to start speaking with him. She knew that he'd helped to sack Highgarden in the other life. Enough of the guards had cursed him for her to know how much he wouldn't be welcome as the next Lord of Highgarden, in spite of all Sam and Grandmother's schemes.

She'd have to deal with that...soon.

She led him to a bench gestured for him to sit with her. They sat down together.

The silence continued unabated.

Dickon cleared his throat and stuttered, "I'm...uh, sorry you died in the other life."

She stared at him for a moment...he was beginning with that? She gave him a gracious smile, "Thank you, Dickon." She pursed her lips, "What happened to you? I'm afraid I don't know much of what happened after Grandmother died."

He winced and grimaced, "Daenerys Targaryen burned me and father with dragon fire."

Her eyes widened in surprise, she stared for a moment before suddenly giggling.

He stared at her in surprise, "Uh..."

Suddenly, mirth overcame her, "So, I burned in Wildfire, and you burned in Dragon fire?!"

Oh...the absurdity of it all! It wasn't funny, but still she laughed and giggled out loud, completely overcome with mirth. Dickon was startled but grinned back after a moment and then he too started to laugh as he realised just how absurd sharing that in common was.

The laughter subsided after a several long moments, leaving smiles on both their faces, and Margaery was reminded of all the good times they had once shared in their youth.

"This isn't something I thought we would share in common," she commented on the irony, a smile still on her face.

He shook his head, "Yes...uh, fire...bad..." he declared lamely.

She giggled, it was all so absurd! "Yes...Fire- bad. I think we can agree on that."

He grinned back, starting to resemble the boy she'd known for so long, "Yes...that that is something we can both agree on!"

She returned the smile, No, this wasn't such a bad match...

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Yara Greyjoy

She glared at the man in front of her in what was once father's solar.

He shifted unhappily from foot to foot and looked back at her uneasily.

"You know, I should send you to meet the Drowned God again for what you did to Theon," she snapped angrily.

Dagmer Cleftjaw winced as he stood at attention in front of her.

"Aye...mistakes were made," the man who betrayed Theon to Ramsay Bolton admitted, "We shouldn't have tried to hold Winterfell."

"Ya think?" she grumbled in disgust, "We are Ironborn, we reave and leave, we don't try to hold Greenlander lands...the last one to do that was Harren the Black and everyone knows what happened to him!"

Dagmer grimaced again. Fire and Blood had shown the folly of holding Greenlander lands nearly three centuries ago.

She took a step towards him and pushed him, "I'm fucking tempted to gut you here and now. And ain't a single man going to complain if I do," she threatened darkly.

Dagmer took a step away from her, "Then why don't you?"

"I met that fucker Ramsay, and I saw what he did to Theon, I think you've had pain enough. You'll be smarter about things- and loyal to me."

Dagmer puffed up and opened his mouth then abruptly closed it and then shuddered unhappily, "Gods damn fucking bastard. Perverted fucker, he flayed the lot of us just for fun. Laughed as we screamed." His face was contorted with pain and anger, "Aye I'll not make the same mistake again. Me and mine are loyal to you."

She sneered, "You betray me and I'll find something worse to do to you."

Dagmer didn't respond he just a nodded his head in obedience.

Yara turned away from him and grabbed a goblet of wine from the table, she drained it quickly and then refilled it. She took another gulp and then sat at the table, thinking deeply. Things had changed on Pyke since the spell. Father was locked away and screaming his irate rage at any servants that entered. She didn't have the patience to deal with him now- knocking sense into him would be a long and arduous task, and she had much more important things to deal with. The rest of her preparations were ongoing, with the heads of any rebellious captain were currently being put on pikes at the docks, arrayed to show just how brutally she'd deal with any rebellion to her rule.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of Euron. Her Uncle was probably half way to Yi Ti, or in the Shivering Sea, or Slaver's Bay. He'd be a threat till she had his head on a spike. He was just far too dangerous to continue living...and too far from her grasp to do anything about it now.

The sound of a throat clearing itself interrupted her thoughts, she looked up and frowned, "What? Why are you still here?"

Dagmer frowned at her, "What's out next step? Who are we going to attack?"

"Right now? No one, you know what I've told you is coming. It's not the time to attack the Living," Yara explained with a disgusted roll of her eyes.

"So for now we're just sitting on our thumbs, waiting?" Dagmer retorted in annoyance.

She snorted in derision, and gave him a scathing look, sitting up and slamming her goblet down in the table, wine sloshed on her hand, "You're sitting on your thumb, I'm consolidating my hold on the Iron Islands. And stopping moronic fools, like you and my father, from starting wars we can't afford now."

Dagmer shut his trap and looked more annoyed, but he didn't dare say anything more to her. He knew just close she was to having his head join the other more vocal captains' heads.

A knocking came, interrupting her as she continued to stare balefully at Dagmer.

"What!" she called out irritably.

A muffled, hesitant voice came through the door, "Ya...Yara?"

Yara blinked and started, "Theon?" she called out her tone turning surprised. "Get you ass in here!"

The door opened and in walked her brother, he was finally home and Jon had kept his promise. Theon stood there, bedraggled and dirty, his eyes looked around with fear and confusion at everything, his face looked bruised but otherwise he looked unhurt. The bruises looked old and were almost healed, but he didn't look confidant or sure of anything, he looked more like the creature, Reek, than the Theon she'd known at the end. He looked at her with empty eyes. The despondent and defeated look in his eyes reminded her far- far too much of Reek. That creature hadn't been her brother. That creature had been Ramsay's dog. She'd worked hard to reclaim her brother before and it looked like she had to redo what had she'd worked hard to undo.

She walked towards him and he flinched as she approached. She ignored it and dragged him into a hug, "I've missed you, brother," she whispered happily into his ear. She broke the embrace, but kept a hold of his arms and looked him in the eye.

He smiled miserably, "Yara."

She gave him a happy smile, brushing her unease aside, "You're home, Theon."

He blinked owlishly, almost in confusion.

"...I'm ruling the Iron Islands now," she continued, "We'll do things right this time."

Theon blinked again and then opened his mouth, for a moment nothing came out, "...it's like dream Yara. I saw...Robb again. And Lord Stark...they were...angry. Jon and Sansa were there as well. And Arya and Bran...even Rickon. Maester Luwin, he was there as well...he was so disappointed in me."

She mentally winced, keeping her discomfort from her face and keeping her pleasant smile in place.

They stood there talking quietly for several moments, Theon's words remaining unsure and fearful as she tried to reassure him...but he opened up a bit...but he still stayed far too Reek-like for her peace of mind. Despite everything that Jon and Sansa had told him before leaving Winterfell, despite everything she said to him now, it all seemed like an impossible dream to him.

Time for a different plan...

She lifted his chin and looked him directly in the eye before smiling sweetly.

After several long moments, he returned the smile...which was when she then brought her knee up sharply into her brother's crotch.

Theon's smile froze and his eyes crossed as his face went white before his legs failed him, he collapsed at her feet, groaning in pain.

He lay there for a moment before looking up at her with betrayed eyes.

She gave him a pointed look before giving him a sharp smile, "You've got your balls back. Just had to give you a friendly reminder...also try to keep a fucking hand on your balls...this time."

He gave her a confused, pained look but didn't say anything in response.

She turned around and found Dagmer standing there with a surprised look on his face. He'd been silent as she initially dealt with Theon. He broke his silence now.

"You're not going to fucking kick me in the balls now are you?" he asked a little intimidated, his hands coming to cover his crotch.

She raised an eyebrow at him and sneered, "Maybe..." she pursed her lips and cast a look at Theon as he was sprawled on the ground. An idea occurred to her, "Pick him up and find him a proper whore- or a couple of them...if that doesn't snap him out of..." she waved her hand at her brother, "...of whatever he is in now, nothing will..." Her eyes hardened as she turned back to glare at Dagmer, "Fuck this up and..."

Dagmer held his hands up placatingly, "...my head goes on a spike."

"It won't be your head that I take..." Yara retorted with a dark stare.

Dagmer gulped in fear and made to obey the true Queen of the Iron Islands.

Notes: