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MoonyNightShade
MoonyNightShade

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Chapter 17 - First a Mystery and then Another

Disclaimer:

I don’t own the characters or the world appearing in this story, they are creations and property of the fantastic George R. R. Martin. I’m not sure if I can claim my OCs as my own, so I’ll play it safe and dedicate them to GRRM.

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[Year - 298 AC]

Margaery gazed at her reflection on the polished metal as the maid did her hair. Her gaze, however, was absent-minded; her mind latching on to everything but the task at hand. She absently noted as the maid tried – and unsuccessfully – to tame her hair. The maid was being careful and slow; so as to not draw her attention.

Margaery noted that the face which stared back through the metal was pretty, or at least that’s what she’d been told all her life. She herself thought some of her cousins to be prettier. She loved the shy smile Alla sometimes smiled. However, there was no questioning her standing amongst Tyrells. She doubted there was a maiden as fair as her in the seven kingdoms.

“Ah!” She yelped as a strand of hair was yanked along as the maid ran the brush through her locks.

“I’m sorry milady!” the maid spluttered frantically.

Her irritation fizzled out as the girl apologised, repeatedly; so she merely sighed. Collecting herself, she sent a smile to the poor girl. “It’s alright. Why don’t you run along, I’m sure I’ll be able to manage the rest on my own.”

“But –” The girl began, but Margaery stared pointedly.

“It’s alright, I can help Mar if she needs it,” Elinor piped up from her position at Margaery’s bed.

Glancing at Elinor, the maid reluctantly bowed and took her leave. Margaery took hold of the brush as she turned back to the mirror.

“Don’t call me that,” She said to Elinor for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past two days. Elinor only chuckled.

“But it sounds so nice, Mar,” Elinor drawled.

Margaery wanted to strangle someone. Megga and Alla chuckled along with Elinor. Her cousins had had a lot of fun at her expense this week.

Ignoring them, her thoughts wandered yet again. This time to the prince’s tourney.

Her father who had vehemently opposed her attendance at the tourney had suddenly changed his mind on the matter. She hadn’t yet managed to piece together the reason for it, but the fact that the change had occurred after Prince Renly’s arrival seemed to be the key.

Whatever the reason for the change was, her grandmother hadn’t been happy with her father since he’d overturned the decision. Grandmother was hardly ever happy with him, but she’d been even more clipped as of late. Margaery had to guess that it had to do with the reason behind his change in heart. What could it be so, she wondered – to have upset her grandmother in such a way.

Margaery lamented not having been adamant enough in persuading Garlan to take her along. Some hawking would have done her good in putting things off her mind. She was noodling herself silly trying to solve the mystery. Maybe she ought to just confront her grandmother about it? No, that wouldn’t do.

Margaery wasn’t completely witless, she had some idea of what the reason could be. She was of age after all, and it was only proper that they secure an advantageous match to propel their house forward. Is that why Renly was here? She doubted that as soon as the thought crossed her mind. She wore low-cut Myrish dresses for a reason and her greeting bow was also crafted very particularly. The prince had hardly paid her any attention, or at least any more than propriety required him to. If he was trying to court her, he was doing a piss poor job at it. If not the prince, then who else could it be?

She stayed lost in her musings for a while, until Alla’s words penetrated through the haze, quickly bringing out of her rumination.

“... Lord Harold knocked him off the horse!”

Alla was animatedly accounting to Megga. She subtly moved her attention to them, all the while continuing to run the brush through her hair.

“I hadn’t even gotten off my amazement at Loras unhorsing Ser Erryk, but then he barges in and challenges Loras,” Elinor said, joining in on the recollecting.

“I was completely bewildered, He barged in from nowhere,” Elinor continued, “I hadn’t noticed the Stark sigil at all, but obviously Loras did, otherwise he wouldn’t have accepted.”

“The soldiers shouted for Loras but then he was unhorsed in just a single tilt!” Alla cut in, not being able to contain her excitement. Margaery was a little amused at the dichotomy in the normally shy girl’s behaviour.

The girl swooned. “I won’t ever forget the moment he removed the helm – he was so handsome! His raven hair and those eyes! Nothing could overpower his grin, however. That mocking grin. I would have done anything for it…”

She flushed, realising what she’d just said.

“You couldn’t even meet his eyes, unlike me,” Elinor snorted, “Although, I would give him a kiss if he grinned that grin at me,”

“You’re betrothed!” Alla declared with wide eyes.

Margaery listened in as their talk devolved into an argument. She herself had not witnessed the joust and Megga must have been chasing after a boy to have missed it.

It had been two days ago when Loras had wanted to practise jousting against some of the knights at the castle. Loras himself had only arrived a week ago with Prince Renly. Having already witnessed Loras unhorsing knights on numerous occasions, she’d declined the offer to watch.

Once the jousts had begun, Loras had apparently made quick work of all the knights he’d been pit against, including her grandmother’s personal guards. Margaery didn’t doubt the claims, she knew herself that Loras was a very capable knight. If her father was to be believed, Loras might be the best knight in all of the seven kingdoms.

And then Harry had arrived in the middle of the jousts.

He had been on his way to Highgarden, she knew of that. A raven had been sent ahead from Horn Hill. He was to join them in their travel to King’s Landing for the prince’s tourney. But he had arrived earlier than expected.

By all accounts he had barged into the joust, already clad in armour, and challenged Loras to a joust. Which he had then won. Immediately, once the joust was done, he’d asked after Garlan. On learning that he was out on a hunt, Harry had left the castle in search of Garlan. This was two days ago. Harry’s retinue had arrived half a day later, asking if Harry had shown up at the castle. He had seemingly ditched them for the last leg of the journey.

Margaery hadn’t met with Harry ever since he’d left Oldtown for Horn Hill. The last time had been a few months before he began squiring at Horn Hill. He had always kept close with her brothers, Garlan and Willas in particular. Even Loras talked highly of him. Garlan, however, was the closest to him, even taking time to visit him at Horn Hill on occasion. Although, it might have to do with their love for spars if some of the rumours were to be believed.

Margaery knew a lot of Harry, due to her brothers and also from the occasional tidbits her grandmother let loose. The fact that her grandmother was interested in him was reason enough for her to keep a close eye. But personally, she didn’t know what to think of him, to be honest. She’d once been quite close with him just like her brothers. But it had been years since and she was not the naive girl anymore.

All accounts of Harry talked of an extraordinary heir. Even she’d had some notion of it from when they were young. She remembered feeling overwhelmed dealing with the boy when they’d first met, even though they were of the same age. She had just been a girl then and he had been a boy, but now, however, he was nearly a man grown, and would also be the Lord Paramount of North in a year’s time. However high her standing might be, she would have to act appropriately when meeting him again. Especially since recent news seemed to point towards prosperity in the North. Naivety wouldn’t stand.

“Your hair has been brushed enough, don’t you think?” Elinor’s voice claimed from her side.

“I suppose so,” She replied, replacing the comb on her dresser.

“What do you think – of the Stark, I mean?” Elinor asked with a sly smile.

“What’s there to think?” She replied curtly.

“Isn’t he close to your brothers?”

“What of it?” Margaery asked, wondering what this was leading to.

“They must have talked of him, I’d imagine. Especially if he’s so close to Garlan. Is he betrothed?”

Margaery recollected what her grandmother had muttered of Harry’s trip to Arbor. It was all hidden up, however, and she’d never seen her grandmother so angry before or after that incident. Not even her current disagreement with her father had angered her grandmother to that extent. And he definitely was not betrothed to Desmera.

“Not to my knowledge, no,” She replied.

“Really?”

Margaery nodded.

“What about you? Are you close to him?” Elinor asked. Margaery could almost feel Alla’s stare on her.

“When have I ever talked of him?” Margaery questioned, raising an eye.

“Oh, really Mar? You’re not close?”

Margaery could feel the blush that crept up. She didn’t know what he had been thinking, but Harry had asked Elinor about Margaery at the joust. Only he had called her ‘Mar’ instead. And she’s been stuck with the nickname for the past two days.

“As I’ve told you already, I am not aware of why he’d call me that, he’s never done so before,” Margaery replied, standing up from her seat. The longer this went on, the longer she’d have to endure.

“I’m off to meet with grandmother. Would you like to join me, cousin?” she asked, knowing full well that no one would take up her offer.

“It’s alright, Margaery, I’m sure we can find something to keep busy,” Elinor said quickly as she cringed.

With a nod, she left the room.

She sighed as she walked the corridor, knowing not where to go. Maybe she really should visit her grandmother?

As she reached the hall, she heard some commotion through the main door. Walking to it, her eyes found a man wearing her family sigil rushing towards her father’s court. She quickly strode towards him. Noticing her, he slowed down to greet her.

“Is there an issue?” She asked.

“Nothing grave, my lady. Lord Garlan has returned from his hunt,”

Excusing herself, she ambled to the castle gates. Her heart was beating at a quick pace in anticipation – what for, she did not know. It had only been three days since Garlan left, he’d been away for much longer in the past. But now, all she wanted was to seek him out.

She did not notice that she was running until she made out their voice. She still hadn’t seen them, however.

“...was me who caught the boar. Please explain to me – how are you coming on top?” she heard a voice. An unknown voice, although it was familiar in some sense.

“A baby boar, Harry. You keep leaving the important part out.” Garlan replied with a laugh.

“A baby boar is a boar nonetheless. Or do you make it a point to choose your game’s age in a hunt?”

“It’s important while keeping score when the hunt is hawking!” Garlan complained.

Clearing the corner she finally caught sight of them. The two of them were in a jovial mood, very clearly. Garlan was leaning against the wall to support himself as he chuckled. He smiled as the man he was talking to, turned away, to address someone else. The smile on his face was unlike any she had seen on him. For the first time in her life, she understood just how close he was with Harry.

Harry – or at least the man she thought was Harry – had his back turned to her. He was being admonished by a man larger than him, which really was something because Harry was easily taller than any of her brothers.

Garlan turned to her with a smile before it morphed into worry. “Margaery! Why were you running?”

She hunched down, struggling to contain her breathing. She was completely out of breath. “It’s… noth– nothing…” She squeaked out.

“Margaery!” Harry exclaimed, noticing her as well.

Margaery lifted her head to meet his eyes. He winked at her and smirked throughout. She did not know why he did that.

He was tall, at least half a head taller than Garlan. But they were built similarly; both with more girth than Loras. He was so different from the boy she so vaguely remembered, although she could see the similarities. He had the same hair and eyes.

“Harry,” She greeted with a small bow. She hated it almost as soon as she did it.

He looked amused. “What’s this Garlan? Her idea of a joke?”

She looked up to meet his eyes. His gaze flicked over her, lingering sometimes. “You’ve grown, Margaery,”

“So have you,” she replied.

“That I have,” he replied easily.

They just looked at each other for a moment, both not knowing what to say.

“Eh… I found it easier to manage when she barged into our conversations – screaming,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

She blushed at the reminder. She definitely wasn’t that girl anymore.

Garlan chuckled. “Margaery’s much more of a lady now,”

“I can definitely see that,” Harry replied before turning to the large man he’d been talking to. She wondered if he meant anything by the statement.

Margaery walked up to Garlan, her eyes flicking away sometimes. “I wish you’d taken me with you,” She complained.

Garlan pressed his lips together. “You know very well that I wanted some time to myself.”

“You were not alone, however, were you brother?” She bit back.

He winced. “Harry… he’s different, he doesn’t ask for much when I am with him.”

Margaery felt her ire rise.

“Then at least tell me what the matter is. Your mind has been fraught with something this past week,” She demanded.

“I’m sorry, Margaery. The time is not right,” He said with certainty, although he looked conflicted. She’d never seen him so pained.

“Garlan, if there’s a burden you have to bear, you can let me share the load. I’m your sister after all,” She urged.

He seemed to get more and more withdrawn by the moment. “The matter’s not something I can share freely, Margaery. Forgive me for wanting to keep it from you for some time.”

“What about Harry? Does he–”

“Shall we head inside? It's time for the afternoon meal, wouldn't you say?” Harry barged in, probably in the same way he’d done so at the joust. She glared at him, with probably the most fierce glare she could raise; if he noticed her, he gave no indication of it.

“Yes, of course,” Garlan said immediately. But he did look at least a little sorrowful at the poor attempt at escape.

Before she could get a single word in, they were both walking through the gates.

She glared around at the people walking about. She had always been well-loved at the castle, they could put up with her acting out for just a day.

“Shall I lead my men inside the castle, my lady?” The huge knight asked her.

“Oh yes,” She said, turning quickly to face the man. She had to lift her head quite a bit to meet his eyes.

“Wendel Manderly, my lady,” He introduced himself.

She nodded, and introduced herself, just to keep up appearances. She would have been very surprised if the man hadn’t known of her.

Handing them over to a Tyrell soldier, she stepped back into the castle. She had one more mystery to add to her ever-growing collection of things to investigate.


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