This choice: Her Handmaidens Mira and Sera being harassed by a Lannister Guard • Go Back... A new noise played to Margaery's ears as she emerged from the privy. She quickly found its source further down the hallway, nearby the door of her handmaiden's quarters. There the two girls stood, nearly pushed back against the wall by a large man dressed in the colors of a Lannister House Guard.
His scratched gold, black, and red armor played a wonderful analogy of the house he served; red blood and black death holding the foundation, with a shimmering gold to hide it all away. There was a time, not long ago, when a man with a lute and a song was all House Lannister needed to bring unruly subjects to heel and potential enemies to peace, but that time had passed, and the realm had noticed. The bascinet on his dented klappvisor was pulled down, leaving the only part of his person visible his mouth, where thin, stubble surrounded lips sneered to reveal teeth a shade darker then the yellow of his helm. Margaery could practically smell the onions on his breath from where he stood. In a gravelly voice that screamed of a lowborn Westerlander, he persecuted the two handmaidens. Glowering, Margaery began down the hall.
Sera instinctively shrunk back before the man. He didn't seemed interested in her in the slightest, but the sternness in his tone towards Mira definitely seemed to work much more effectively on herself then the northern girl. Mira stood stoic, a look of condescension and maybe even boredom on her face and tone as she negotiated the guard's questions with learned ease.
"How did you know Ser Damien Estren?" he demanded in a growl.
"I didn't." Mira replied coolly, meeting his gaze.
"How do you know a coalboy by the name of Tom, and how is he related to Ser Damien's disappearance?" he returned, the look in his eyes growing wilder.
"I know the coalboy because he changes my coals." Mira answered in a bored tone. "He's related to Ser Damien's disappearance because you mentioned both topics in the same sentence. Now if you've quite finished at trying to intimidate a Northern girl for magical answers as to the whereabouts of a Westerland knight that disappeared almost half a year ago, I have duties to attend to."
"You listen to me, girl," he began, mounting frustration evident on his voice as he pushed closer to Mira, "the queen knows you're involved in this, and if you think you're getting out of this by playing dumb you-"
"No one here is playing dumb, Ser, you're just living it." Margaery interrupted, closing the gap between herself and the trio. "To my most recent knowledge, it is a punishable offense for a commoner to threaten a noble. Has the law changed, or are you simply daft?"
"I -" he started in aggression before remembering himself. "Queen's orders." he said submissively before producing a small scroll with the royal seal; the Baratheon stag and Lannister lion hand in hand.
"Really?" Margaery said with a tone of scrutiny. She took the scroll, broke the seal and began to read it. "I don't recall writing this letter." she continued coyly, before ripping the paper in half.
"Hey!" the large soldier emoted, reaching a hand out.
"Now since my mother-in-law trusted you with this document, I presume you have your letters?" Margaery asked of the man.
"I do, your grace." he replied begrudgingly.
"There seems to be more to you then the eyes would suggest. Come, follow me. You're going to write my reply to the queen-reagent." Margaery commanded as she began walking towards her chambers. The man hesitated, first looking towards Margaery, then towards Mira.
"This isn't over, girl." he threatened as he began down the hall. Mira and Sera exchanged looks before Margaery suddenly turned about.
"Oh, Sera." she started, putting inflection on the "oh," "Have a roast chicken sent to my room. Mira, you can return to your chambers until I have need of you." The two muttered "Yes, Lady Margaery" before once more exchanging looks and setting off in opposite directions.
...
Some twenty minutes later, Sera knocked twice on her mistress' door, a platter bearing servant behind her. A few seconds later, a faint "Come in!" was heard from the other side. She opened the door, and christened the servant in.
"Your breakfast, Lady Margaery." Sera proclaimed as the servant quickly placed the platter before her and fled the room.
"Ah, excellent, thank you." The red haired queen said with a smile from where she was sat at the end of a table. "I've found chicken to be one of the best palette cleansers there-" *URRRAAAPH* she belched suddenly and violently.
"By the Seven, excuse me!" Margaery pardoned, placing a hand gingerly on her chest, before suddenly taking in hand the stone heavy bird and bringing it to her mouth. Sera awkwardly avoided eye contact as the poultry disappeared in a manner of seconds, using the time to take in the sights of her queen's chambers.
Delicate green Tyrell laces from Highgarden covered the majority of the room, but Margaery had not neglected her husband's houses neither. Baratheon yellows and blacks were woven into the room's decor, and Lannister red and golds added in tandem. A mosaic of Highgarden was constructed along the wall in Lyseni specular stones, and a carved oaken stag stood nearby. On her desk was a number of pens and papers and inkwells. Letters in various stages of completion were scattered about. On the edge of the desk sat the dented helmet of a Lannister soldier. Sera eyed the armor carefully before a cacophonous belch brought her attention back to her mistress.
"Ah, that did me well." Margaery reported, leaning back in her chair.
"Will there be anything else, Lady Margaery?" Sera inquisited.
"No, no." she replied, pausing a moment before belching heartily once more. "We will be attending a nameday celebration at midday, however, so be ready for that. Oh, and tell Mira that she won't be having any more problems with Cersei and that cutthroat of hers."
"Very well, Lady Margaery." Sera said, as the smell from her queen's belches reached her nostrils. She winced slightly at the smell, an acrid odor of vomit, chicken, and... onions? Her eyes grew wide as they fluttered from her queen to the helmet on the desk. She quickly half-curtsied and departed with haste.
A troubling thought on her mind, Sera...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline  · Recent Additions © Copyright 2024 Ferrum ex Glacium (UN: greg432 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Ferrum ex Glacium has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author