Another chapter!
As usual, leave your comments below, tell me your opinions, things that you can imagine happening, etc.
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It takes another 3 days for my wounds to heal and for me to build up my strength. Everyday, without fail, someone new comes to meet me, first it was Lord Varys, the one that they call 'The Spider.' He seemed pleasant enough, he didn't try to grill me for secrets as I worried that he would, but instead treated me with dignity and class. Then, on the second day, came Ser Lancel Lannister, a handsome man who happens to look a lot like Joffrey, probably due to the fact that they share the same bloodline. On my third and final day of rest came the younger brother of the King, Tommen Baratheon.
A boy of 12, Tommen is the complete opposite to the rest of his Lannister kin. Kind and considerate, asking me questions rather than talking about himself, Tommen is the perfect prince. He told me that he'd come to visit me because the King himself asked it, wanting to ensure that I was recovering properly. I can't help but feel for him, constantly being overlooked just because he had the misfortune to be born as the younger brother. But the laws of our realm state that Tommen is still the heir to the throne, as Joffrey is not yet married and with children. So I suppose that he isn't overlooked completely.
The maester confirms that I am well enough to leave my bed and begin working for Margaery, a message that Tommen conveys on to the King. I'm glad to finally be allowed out, being stuck in a room for over a week has been driving me mad, and i've longed to be able to leave and explore. But that will have to wait, for I am expected to begin work today
I woke up early, not wanting to be late, and Dafina ran me a hot bath. She laid the gown that Margaery had sent for me as a gift, a beautiful blush pink dress, typically King's Landing style, stiff, hard to move in, but definitely beautiful. It must be one of her old dresses, that's how fine it is. The silk is plush and expensive looking, embroidered with intricate golden swirls. On the shoulders are slightly ruched red sleeves onto top of the long ones that reach to my wrists. And in the corner, though faint, embroidered in red is the Lannister Lion, mid-leap. It reminds me that the Lannister's are in charge here, from the food I eat to the clothes I wear.
The Lannister's are not to be messed with.
Many people have learnt this lesson before me. Though they tried to cover it up, it's no secret that Ned Stark was executed for spreading rumours and making allegations against the King. Allegations which a lot of people wonder if there is any truth behind.
Anyway, Dafina decides that my hair should be left loose, she braids sections and secures it with a red ribbon that matches the sleeves and under-gown. I pop a ruby earring into each ear until I am ready to be presented to the future Queen.
Margaery's quarters aren't very far from my own, I suppose that's because if she should need me, then I don't have far to travel. I still have to pass down one of the sweeping, limestone staircases that seem to adorn the Red Keep. Every I look, beautiful and expensive things are to be seen. Portraits of Kings, varnished tables that cover entire walls, flower arrangements and crests of the joint emblems of House Baratheon and House Lannister, Joffrey's coat of arms. Most of the walls are painted a pale shade of red. Ivy seems to grow around the columns of the balcony's, the only sign of how old this palace actually is.
Dafina leaves me outside Margaery's room, where a guard is waiting to show me in. Before she leaves however, she strokes my cheek, and smiles gently. "You'll be fine," she whispers soothingly. I wasn't worried until now, but suddenly I understand how bad it would be for me if I mess this up. Margaery is to be the Queen, Joffrey's Queen, that means that she has a lot of power, and that power would be enough to crush me like a bug. Sure, Joffrey stood up for me once, by dealing with my aunt and cousin, both who were still locked in their rooms, as far as I knew, but if I were to upset his wife, who knows what the punishment would be.
I don't particularly want to find out, either.
The guard hisses at Dafina to leave, as if she's no better than a common dog, but she obliges, as he's holding a large sword and wouldn't hesitate to use it. He'd make up some excuse when Margaery asked what was going on, weaving lies about how Dafina was going to make an attack upon the future Queen herself. Joffrey wouldn't be so quick to punish the guard for spilling blood as he had been to punish my aunt and cousin.
She scurries off, leaving me alone. The large man who towers above me knocks on the door, and we wait a few seconds before it's opened. Out flows a mixture of sounds and smells, laughter, music, the sweet scent of jasmine which is growing up the balcony. Stood in the doorway is a pretty young girl; her face is youthful and slightly pink, her auburn hair hanging as straight as a pin down her back, watching me with her vivid blue eyes. She's rather tall for a young girl, yet I can't be much older than her. She's dressed rather finely too, not wearing as nice a dress as I, but the baby blue shade accentuates her high cheekbones and striking eyes. Around her neck is a pendant, bearing the Lannister emblem. But despite her beautiful appearance, and job as one of the Queen's ladies, her eyes are filled with a sadness that I understand all too well; loss.
We stare at each other for a moment, taking in the other's appearance, trying to put together a possible conclusion. Do we like each other? What are our similarities? Our differences?
But just when I think i've gotten to the bottom of knowing who she is, a sweet, melodic voice that I know to be Lady Margaery sings out "Sansa, who is it?"
Sansa.
I understand who she is now, Sansa Stark. The daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, who was executed for betraying the crown and King. The Princess of Winterfell. Sister of the rebel Lord Robb Stark. She who was once the betrothed of the King herself, but is now forced to wait on her successor.
My heart pours out for her, and I understand why I felt an instant connection with her. She lost her father, as I lost my mother. Both were victims of injustice, innocently murdered. I can tell from Sansa's eyes that she knew her father was innocent.
And now her oldest brother has raised an army in the North and defeated the Lannister armies on many occasions. From what i'd overheard people say, mainly my Aunt gossiping, her sister was also missing, and her two younger brothers, one of whom is a cripple, had been killed by Theon Greyjoy when he took Winterfell.
I try to send her a message through my eyes, telling her that I understand what it feels like, but she doesn't seem to receive it, or she chooses to ignore it. For she opens her mouth and replies in a steady, monotonous voice "Lady Arienne of Syrspear, your grace."
So she does know who I am. She moves aside and beckons for me to follow her into the room, which I do carefully.
Sansa walks very elegantly, with equal grace to the Queen Regent, Cersei Lannister. She leads me into a lively room of 3 other women, all impeccably groomed, but none more beautiful than Sansa, even Margaery herself, who glides into the room wearing a silver gown and a diadem on her head at the same time I do, would have trouble being compared to the traditional beauty of Sansa Stark.
Margaery holds her arms open for me, and I curtsey as my manners dictate. She wraps her arms around me and gives me a squeeze. "Lady Arienne! I am so glad to see that you have recovered fully!" Her words seem completely sincere, so I lower my guard slightly and squeeze her back. "I'm feeling much better, your grace." She smiles at me, and squeezes my hand, before leading me over to a set of couches where the other ladies are waiting to be seated.
"Please sit, all of you." She beams at us, as if we are her friends not her servants. "Would you like some wine, your grace?" I hear Sansa ask. Margaery beams at her, but Sansa seems to ignore her optimism. "That would be delightful Sansa, some wine for all of us!"
Sansa disappears, and the other 3 ladies who are sat down smile encouragingly at me. "I'm Jayne Bracken!" An over-excited blonde exclaims, flashing me a toothy grin. I try to recall House Bracken, but it doesn't sound particularly familiar, it's importance must be limited. But I smile and bow my head anyway, the respect that befits a noble Lady. The next girl, a short brunette gives me a cheeky wink, "Marissa Lannister of Lannisport." Oh, them i've heard of, it's an infant branch of the Lannister family, less powerful than their older cousins in Casterly Rock, but they still bear the Lannister name, and that can be powerful in itself.
The final lady is older than the rest of us, by about 20 years or so. She's still very attractive though, with long silver hair and a warm face. Her resemblance to Margaery is uncanny, despite the differences in hair colour, they both emit the same friendly nature. "Lady Alerie, the mother of the one you know as Her Grace, Margaery Tyrell, soon to be Queen Margaery Baratheon." She smiles at me, and I hear a noise behind me. It's Sansa, sniffing slightly. I turn around, and see a tray carrying a jug of wine and 6 goblets in her hands. She seems to have broken her cool persona at the mention of Queen, a role that she herself was supposed to fill.
But her cold exterior is back within seconds, and as she places the tray down on the table between the couches, turns to look at me with cold eyes. "I am Sansa," she introduces herself, though I already know her name. I notice that she takes care not to mention her house, as the others have done, for it would not do for a Lady of the Queen to be seen as connected to the traitorous Starks.
She perches upon the chair beside me, delicately held upright as if there is a string running through her back and attached to the ceiling, forbidding her to relax even an inch. All this time in King's Landing must have made her more cautious.
Who can blame her really?
Not I, in fact I find her fascinating, "It's a pleasure to be in the company of such fine ladies." I say with a smile, it seems to be the right thing, because Jayne and Marissa giggle, even Lady Alerie breaks a smile. As Jayne regains herself and begins to pour out a goblet of the sweet white wine for us all, there is a knock upon the door. But this time, it opens for itself, and in strides a small, slightly chubby squire, looking rather red-faced and breathless.
"Your Grace, Ladies, his majesty, the King is here to see you."
Suddenly everything is thrown into a hive of commotion. Jayne, Marissa and Sansa rush about the room, stuffing things into drawers and trying to make the room presentable for the King to see. Margaery helps her mother stand, whilst I just sit there, looking slightly gormless. Then Marissa is lifting me to my feet, just as Joffrey strides into the room.
We all curtsey in perfect unison, bowing our heads. Sansa is beside me, and I can see that she is attempting to prevent herself from shaking with fear. What could he have done to her that would make her so terrified of him?
Joffrey looks even grander today then when I saw him last, today he is wearing a hunting attire of red and gold, the Lannister colours, though his surname and father are Baratheon. I see the stag of his father's house upon his lapel, and my thoughts are dismissed.
"Ladies," he greets us, permitting for us to rise. He doesn't care to pay any attention to Jayne, Marissa or Alerie, his gaze resting on the three of us in the centre of the line, Margaery, Sansa and I. "Margaery my dear," he decides finally, going for the most practical person to speak to first. Margaery beams up at her tall fiancee and I can't help but feel slightly jealous of her, Joffrey is very handsome. But his wicked personality takes away the charm of his looks, or so i've been told.
He kisses Margaery's cheek gently, and then takes a step back. "I'm going hunting with your brother, I'll be back by nightfall dearest," Margaery pretends to be annoyed at this, stomping her foot like a small child, and beside me, I hear Sansa snort slightly. "Anyway, you won't be bored, you have a new lady to entertain you I see."
It takes me a moment to realise that he means me. In no time at all, he has stepped in front of me and has lifted my hand to his lips, kissing it gently. I wonder if he does this to all of Margaery's servants. But from the hungry look in his eyes, I guess not.
"Lady Arienne, I am glad that you are better. I'm sorry that I wasn't there to protect you."
There it was, I, not my guards, wasn't there to protect you. That's a dangerous thing to say in front of your fiancee and her mother, but Joffrey seems to ignore their presence, instead staring into my eyes as if he can't bear to pull away. But he has to, he's been talking to me for far longer than is required, and has no choice but to return his attentions to Margaery, who doesn't seem to have noticed the manner of the conversation that just passed between Joffrey and I.
She's a sweet girl, but she reminds me of a puppy, foolish yet innocent.
Is that her true identity, or is it an act?
You can never be too sure.
He bids Margaery farewell, presenting her with a new ermine cloak before he goes. He wraps his arms around her, but whilst he is looking over her shoulder, he's staring straight at me, and a smile creeps onto his lips. Embarrassed, I avert my gaze, instead pretending to admire the beauty of a sculpture in the corner. I hear his quiet chuckle.
He leaves Margaery, and gives a quick nod to both Jayne and Marissa, both of whom seem excited to have even been notice, from the way that Jayne is hopping from one foot to the other. He gives Lady Alerie the customary bow that a man should show his mother-in-law, and leaves the room, ignoring Sansa completely.
She sighs again, but i'm not sure if it's disappointment or relief.
As soon as he's gone, everything seems to return to normal. We all sit back down again, and Margaery begins to quiz me on my life in Dorne, about how she hated leaving her home in Highgarden to marry Renly Baratheon. They listen with glee and enthusiasm as I recount the tales of my childhood, about the times I played with Kyro and Zach, booing at any mention of Agathe or my 'beloved' aunt. I'm unsure as to why I'm telling them everything about myself, but I make sure that I keep my most precious secrets to myself.
Such as the fact that i'm supposed to be a Queen amongst men.
That wouldn't sit well with the actual Queen-in-waiting herself.
By the time i've finished, it's almost dusk and Margaery dismisses Sansa and I, telling us that Jayne and Marissa can take care of her during dinner. Grateful for the time off, I make my way to my rooms. Only to be cornered by Sansa.
I try to move past her, saying excuse me, but she pushes me into the corner, trapping me in. I would whimper in fright, but I won't give her the satisfaction of that. "I don't want to hurt you Arienne, I just want to talk to you." She looks around, and grabs my wrist, pulling me into an empty room and locking the door.
"I saw what happened between Joffrey and you, even if Margaery was blind enough to miss it." I shake my head, "I don't know what you're talking about..." I trail off because she's clearly not being fooled, and there is no point arguing. "I don't want to tell anyone, I only want to warn you. You know who I am, what my family have suffered at his hands. So be careful, that's all i'm saying, if you get too close to a fire, you're going to get burned. Or in this case, if you get to close to a Lion, you're going to get attacked."
She smiles slightly at her little joke, but I don't find it very funny. "Joffrey is my King, nothing more." I argue back. She lifts an eyebrow, "I don't know why I'm warning you, I tried to warn Margaery and she ignored me. She told me it was my fault that Joffrey discarded me, like a bone being thrown to the dogs after he was finished. But for some reason, I feel like your different. You understand how I feel. Did you lose someone close to you? Like I lost my father, my sister and brothers? You know what it feels like, don't you, to be constantly listening, always on edge, listening out for any news or information that could concern them."
Her exterior has vanished, and now all that I see is the true Sansa, the frightened little girl who came here to marry a King and is now a slave at his hands. And I know that feeling, like she described, I'd listen to people's conversations, trying to gather any information about the father I never knew and the mother who was murdered when I was a mere girl.
So I nod in agreement, and her face flushes with relief. "Just be careful, for both of our sakes." Then she slips out of the room silently, and there is no evidence that the conversation ever occurred but the echo of our whispers around my mind.