sixthiterationlogs | "Burn Them All!"

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"Burn Them All!"

WHO: Margaery and Robb
WHERE: Bunglaow #4
WHEN: July 1
OPEN TO: Robb Stark
WARNINGS: Mentions of death, destruction, wildfire, etc.

Margaery's garden had accelerated in growth quickly. Within only a few months, she had blooming roses and an abundance of fruit trees. There was a sweet perfume in the air when she woke each morning, reminiscent to her childhood in High Garden. That world that seemed so distant to her, more like a dream than reality, had become more tangible as each blossom unfolded and filled her senses. She didn't need to search among the brushes and bushes for wild strawberries, ripe and small. All she needed to do was walk into her garden and harvest those that had grown.

It was the cotton though that had her focus that afternoon. Deciding against gloves, Margaery picked the cotton as best as she was able. There were cuts, but nothing worse than her work tilling the fields. Her mind filled with thoughts of the things she could make and weave with cotton, the new fabrics that would be available to them. They were in a different state now when they arrived. So many luxuries were available to them that seemed impossible before. Perhaps if she was fortunate, the observers might send silk worms?

The day was quiet, reminding her of the summer when she first arrived. While the heat was difficult, it was largely ignored. It was too beautiful to spend inside. The blue sky was dazzling and she wanted to stare out over the landscape. She was pushing a curl back from her brow when a familiar rumble rolled beneath her feet.

Her blood went cold as that fleeting warning shifted, breaking into a violent quake. She cried out loudly, instinctively reaching for Loras. STAY WITH ME! The world seemed to turn green before her eyes, that familiar heat and pain present in her mind. Was it fear that made her feel wildfire on her skin or was it bursting beneath her again?

She collapsed to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest as she watched her fruit trees sway wildly. Fruit fell to the ground, some of the peaches bursting, spilling juice across the grass. The sweet smell now mixed with the sickening scent of burnt flesh. She forced her eyes open, refusing to close them and see the images of the Sept bathed in green.

She was trembling after the earthquake passed, mistaking her body's tremors for the shaking of the ground. She was locked in place, rigid and stiff. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest. She wasn't one to faint, but she felt that urge race through her. Gods, not again.

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The moment the earth began to shake, two thoughts rose rapid-fire to Robb's mind, pushing out all others: His family, and Maragery. He'd been at home, washing up in the kitchen after dressing the morning's catch, and had found himself nearly tumbled to the floor, clutching the edge of the counter with one hand while the other lifted to shield his head from items sliding and bouncing from the shelves.

The mere instant seemed to last ages, but he got his feet beneath him more quickly this time, dashing from the room, steadying himself on doorways and walls as the swaying slowed and he moved from room to room, taking stock.

The moment it was clear no one was seriously injured, he burst through the front door, feet kicking up dust that rapidly turned to mud as the skies opened up above him.

"Margaery!" he called out, heart leaping into his throat when he caught sight of her. "Margaery," he repeated as he slid to a halt beside her on his knees, reaching for her with shaking, uncertain hands, attempting to shield her from the rain with his body.

"Look at me," he panted, pushing her hair back and cupping her wet cheek. "Margaery, look at me," he pleaded. "Are you injured?"

For a moment, the rain seemed to be a shower of blood, soaking her face and form. Red and green merged before her eyes, disappearing as a voice pierced through the haze. Fingers brushed against her cheek, jolting her from her daze. She nearly lashed out, fighting to survive in a way she had failed to do before. But there was tenderness in that touch and it stilled her instinctual need for fight or flight, calming her heart before it burst out of her chest.

"Robb." There was barely any breath left in her. She lifted herself up, weak and unsteady before collapsing into his arms. She had torn down her walls with him before and so there was nothing to hide behind now. It was too late for that with him and she was so tired of burying her emotions beyond sight and sense. It was inevitable that they would burst from beneath her, better it be in Robb's arms than alone and in the open.

She shuddered against him, gripping his shirt between her fingers. Her heart opened as wide as the sky, tears streaming from her face as she sobbed against him. She felt weak and vulnerable, yet safe against him. No one had shared her grief before, not even Loras. She had been his shoulder and refused to acknowledge her own pain, even in the black cells. These tears needed to be shed and they needed to be shared, otherwise she might go as mad as Cersei.

When the torrent of panic passed, she was able to catch her breath again and answer him. "No. I'm not hurt." Not physically. "You...you're all right?" She leaned back on her knees, her gaze sweeping over him with a wide and worried expression. "You're safe? I didn't think..." she hadn't thought about him as she curled against the ground. What if something had happened to him? "Robb..."

Edited 2017-07-11 10:33 (UTC)

"Everything is well, everyone is well," Robb was quick to answer, cutting her off before her mind could go running off to dark possibilities. And if it was potentially a stretching of the truth, if he didn't know the precise state of his home or hers, or if her animals had fled, or if someone outside his own family had been harmed, it hardly mattered in the moment.

"Put your arms around my neck," he instructed, and hefted her body up against his own, arms tucked behind her back and knees. It was difficult to be certain in the deluge, but it seemed her home had fared better this time, and he stepped carefully through the mud and up onto the front porch, where he settled them both on the well-worn slats of the floor, out of the rain.

"You're all right," he murmured, as much for his own hammering heart as for hers, and pressed a fierce kiss to her damp forehead. "I'm here. We're both all right now."

It was only when she was placed against the hard floor of her porch that she realized how soak she was. She trembled as a slight flutter of the breeze brushed against her skin. Was it that feeling of cold or the realization that harm might of come to Robb and she would never have known it? His touch was her only reassurance, grounding her and keeping the darker thoughts lurking at a distance. It was wrong of her, but she didn't care about the outside world. Everything that truly mattered was already at her side.

The sudden feel of his lips against her forehead caused her to whimper, weak and vulnerable still. Her hand cupped the back of his neck, her fingers tightening against him. A silent acknowledgement of the gesture and intensity of feeling it evoked within her. He was here.

"I can't lose you, Robb." She confessed, rainwater streaming from her hair, down along her cheeks, as fresh and pure as tears. Curling against him, she sought the warmth and comfort that had always been intrinsically Robb's. She held fiercely to him, holding him close so that she might feel his heartbeat next to hers. That panic ever present at her heels.

"You're here." She repeated, said once more to make this all the more real. "I don't want to-" she broke off. 'I don't want to die.' But he knew and he understood. Even as she was about to finish that thought, something stronger and deeper took root. "I don't want to lose you." She shook her head, as though that were enough to keep him safe. "Do you understand?"

Edited 2017-07-15 17:09 (UTC)

"I do," Robb replied, his hand finding her cheeks, sliding back her damp hair and carefully wiping away rainwater from her skin. He hated seeing her this way -- So afraid, so shaken to her core, but it was different now than before. Once, it had unsettled him because it seemed the headstrong, fearless woman he had known had disappeared. Now, he was simply afraid for her and hated the idea of her in pain.

"Look at me," he repeated, gently tipping up her chin so that he could again look her in the eye. "I'm right here and you're with me and we're safe. We're together. I'm never going to leave you again. Do you understand me, Margaery? I'm here. I have you."

She had learned long ago that words had a deeper meaning, the unspoken was more poignant than what was said. His eyes shared everything, saying what words failed to. "I do, Robb." She leaned her cheek against his hand, rough and weathered like her own. They were on equal footing, no longer king and queen, but man and woman, tillers of the soil and survivors in this wilderness. Knowing that, she felt relief. She didn't belong to House Tyrell anymore, she was only Margaery...and perhaps, for the first time, she understood what that woman felt and wanted.

"Where you go, I go." She hadn't realized it, but her fingers found their way to his damp curls, drawing him closer so that she could rest her brow to his. There was a sudden ringing in her ears and a light around her, burning and hot against her eyes. Her head was screaming in pain as she felt herself grow weak, slumping against him as sounds and sights passed in front of her, as real as though she were living it.

She could see Robb, seated near a building under construction...a barn? His tools were scattered to the side, abandoned as he caught his breath and eased his muscles. The sun was beating down against him, his skin still slick with sweat. There were others, but she was at his side, gently rubbing his shoulders as she whispered in his ear.

The white of the sun overpowered the scene, blinding her until it all disappeared and a sharp cold suffocated the summer air. There was snow beneath her feet and flurries sprinkling in her hair. She was in the woods, everything still and asleep. It was a quiet that let her clearly hear the rapid beating of her heart as Robbb leaned close to her. They were beneath a tree, their tree. The branches still as high as she remembered, but the climb not as daunting as before. Their lips met as the wind rustled and a fresh shower of snow fell around them.

Her name was murmured in the distance, pain filtering back into her senses. With a gasp of breath, she was back on her porch, still soaked and crumpled in Robb's arms. "I'm fine." Her voice felt rough in her throat. She shifted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness knocked her back down. "Gods, my head. Did you see that?"

"No, I— What happened?" Robb asked, abruptly alarmed. "What just happened?" He had seen nothing, not even a flash of lightning from the sudden torrent, only Margaery jerking in his arms.

"Stay here," he instructed, loathe to leave her but knowing they needed to remove themselves from the porch to somewhere more comfortable and more dry. "I'm going to check the house and see if it's safe enough to move inside."

He gently extracted himself from Margaery's arms and moved to the front door. It opened easily, which was a good sign: Had this side of the house shifted much, it likely would have been stuck. The light was thin and gray inside, the sun's unrelenting light finally cut by the deluge of rain, but through the swirling motes of dust, it was easy enough to see that the house had been luckier than her last: Apart from shifted furniture and items broken from sliding off shelves and tables, the damage was minimal. No sagging beams, no cracks in the ceiling or floor.

"It will need to be cleaned, but it looks as though your home survived," he said when he returned outside after having quickly checked each of the rooms. "Do you think you can stand?" he asked, kneeling beside her again.

"The snow...the barn?" There was no recognition in his eyes, no sign that he understood what she had seen. What did I see? If it weren't for the pain in her head, she might wonder if she suffered a temporary insanity, but it couldn't have been. She had been in this world long enough to understand that the unexplained could and often did happen. "I don't know. I saw something...it doesn't matter now."

Somehow, she hadn't thought about whether the house was standing or survived. It didn't change her evident relief. "I don't want to have to move again." The pounding behind her eyes seemed to only get worse as she staggered to her feet, the light piercing through her. Gods, but she longed for Milk of the Poppy. Gritting her teeth, she swallowed her complaints and followed Robb inside.

"Let me find some towels and blankets." The stairs looked steady and she could hear Gilbert whining in her room. It was safe to go upstairs. "I don't have any clothes for you to change into. We might need to light a fire instead." There was mud on their feet and clothes, now spread across the floor as well.

Somewhere between frustration and shock, she suddenly burst into laughter, flinching from the pain. She looked to Robb, knowing that they both were in the same state, drowned, dirty and tangled. "If Claire came home now, she would think we were wrestling in the mud."

Edited 2017-07-22 02:25 (UTC)

Robb huffed out his own laugh, and glanced down to himself: Drenched, dirty and apparently looking ridiculous. The levity felt sweet, and eased the band that he'd not realized had been closed tight around his chest.

"If she's been outside at all, she'll probably be in a similar state," he allowed, tipping his glance up to Margaery where she'd paused on the stairs above him.

"Don't worry yourself with the linens. I can manage. You've had a turn, you ought to lie down."

She didn't want to linger on the unpleasant, whether it was her death or something else. Despite her attempts to be more honest in her emotions and to loosen her control, it was still easier to laugh than to weep. Robb was right, they were both safe and they were together. She had enough of fear.

It didn't cross her mind that Claire might be hurt, but she suspected that she was safe. As much as Margaery might want confirmation, she didn't want to have this time with Robb interrupted.

"You will get sick, Robb." It's said gently as she offers him her hand. "I'd rather not sleep now." She knew herself well enough to know there would be nightmares again. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

"I won't get sick taking a moment to fetch linens," Robb countered, but accepted Margaery's hand all the same and allowed himself to be led. It occurred to him that she was only delaying their both being damp with whatever it was she wanted to show him, but he knew enough to keep his mouth shut about it.

He also refrained from making the joke that he'd already seen her bedroom, and quite sufficiently.

"What is this, then? Some new farming project?"

"You'll see." Buried at the bottom of her dresser was something large, wrapped in torn sheets from her first home. It was a long cloak...or what looked like one. The leather was mismatched, creating a patchwork pattern, all different colors and material. There was no fur lining, the cloak still unfinished and poorly made. On the back was some sort of squiggle, embroidered on by uncertain hands.

She laughed, "I was trying to stitch a direwolf on the back, but it became some sort of spider." Her face was warm as she looked back up at him, bashful at his response. She didn't mind if he laughed, it was a poor attempt at a cloak. "My sewing skills have improved, thankfully."

It at least had a double purpose, allowing her to fetch a few sheets and towels from her dresser. She offered them out to him. "I won't ask you to wear it. No man deserves such torture."

Truthfully, the attempted cloak was hideous. Even for Robb, someone who had as little experience in sewing as it were possible to have, it was obvious the hands that had crafted the thing were eager but uncertain. The mismatched leather perhaps couldn't be helped, but the embroidery on the back truly capped the entire thing off in spectacular form.

"I don't think that's a spider, either," he finally allowed with a soft little laugh, and reached out to accept the proffered linens.

His brow pinched as he watched her, his fingers curling around the towels. "You made that for me?"

Compared to her cousins and Sansa, Margaery was less than an amateur when she first arrived in the village. The cloak was a testament to how far she had come since the day she had picked up a needle and attempted to craft it for him. "My grandmother thought embroidery was for idle hands and idle minds." She tugged at one of the loose threads. Even a horse wouldn't want it as a saddle blanket.

She met his eyes, a glimmer of a smile in her eyes. "I did."

Lifting a towel from the pile, she brushed it along his brow, wiping away any stray raindrops. " I will have something better for you when winter comes."

How she could forgive him to such an extent, Robb truly would never be able to fathom, but just the notion that she'd go to so much trouble all over again was enough to leave him feeling foolish. Margaery would insist the fault for their parting didn't lay only with him, but that didn't mean he hadn't been absolutely idiotic.

Emotion swelled inside his chest, and Robb surged forward, losing the towels to the floor as he caught both hands against Margaery's damp cheeks and pressed a feverish kiss to her mouth. This lasted a mere moment, however, before he pulled away, cursing under his breath as he turned and put several steps between them.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. He glanced back to Margaery, brow creased with dismay. "I'm—"

Blinking, he pulled in a shuddering breath and then shook his head again. "No. No, I'm not."

Stepping forward, he caught a hand against the small of her back, pulling her in against himself so that their mouths could meet once more.

It seemed that at last she had come up for air, the pressure against her chest finally released as his lips found hers. She had witnessed his kiss at a distance, beneath the long branches of their tree as the snow fluttered about them. She had thought that was enough, a simple glimpse of what she desired, as bright and beautiful as a dream. Yet as his mouth found hers, she knew that it was a hollow experience.

He pulled back, breaking the spell between them and casting Margaery into uncertainty. She didn't move, only letting her fingers brush against her lips, struggling to believe it was real. Words were on the tip of her tongue, a simple reassurance that she wasn't offended and he hadn't harmed her, but she couldn't seem to find the ability to speak.

She didn't need to. Within the span of two heartbeats, he was back at her side and pulling her flush and firm against him. Mouths met and she was able to remind herself again just how soft his lips were. A hand skimmed over the back of his neck, holding him fiercely as two fingers slipped beneath his collar. She had almost forgotten how his body felt against hers, hard and muscular. She smiled as they kissed, letting her free hand caress and trace his jaw. Gods, but he was so beautiful and she loved him so deeply.

Edited 2017-07-30 15:18 (UTC)

For just a moment, Robb worried that perhaps he had misinterpreted the situation between them, that Margaery's feelings had cooled and her flirting and smiles were more perfunctory than genuine. An attempt perhaps to guard against the weapons he alone could wield against her.

But then she was touching him freely, her mouth parting against his own, the meeting of their bodies feeling more like relief rather than the blind passion that had guided them together the first time they met.

Their lips parted, Robb tipping his forehead to rest against her own, their panted breath mingling between them.

"I love you," he said, sliding a hand up to curve against the back of Margaery's neck. "I'm sorry I'm such an idiot."

She had cried when the words had first been spoken between them, taken by surprise that she was capable of such feelings. Now, it was like seeing sunlight again after months in the Black Cells. She was blinded, not knowing how to respond or react until she at last thrust into the moment. Lips and hands acted instinctively as her heart started again. The words were warm and shook the ground beneath her.

He loved her.

She shook her head, carefully not to pull away from this proximity and intimacy. "It doesn't matter now. We're here, we're together." She echoed his words, overwhelmed but laughing. "I love you. I have always loved you." There was that instinctual fear in the back of her mind, that one day this could end. He could disappear through the fountain or she could or that they might part again. But that was buried and dulled by happiness. "Everything has been so empty. I don't want to live like this anymore. This is my home, this is my life. I want you and to share this life with you." She took a small breath, realizing her hands were shaking. Another gurgle of laughter, "Am I speaking nonsense again?"

"No, no," Robb began, smiling with a slight shake of his head, his wet curls catching against her hair. "Well—" he amended, and softly laughed. "Maybe, but only a little," he teased. "I wouldn't mind in any case."

Even soaked and half-covered in mud, she was beautiful, and it was wonderful to see her laugh again. And on account of himself, even; would wonders never cease?

He pressed another kiss to her mouth, warm and lingering, and then looked her in the eye as he drew away, hands framing her face. "I don't want to hurt you again," he admitted, brow fleetingly pinching. "I'm not— That isn't an excuse, I don't take any of it back. But I'm giving you permission to give me a swift kick if I even come close to hurting you again, all right?"

"It's good madness." She was shivering, both from the cold air against her damp skin and the wonder of the moment. "I'll try not to get carried away by it. Pull me back to the ground if I start floating away."

The floor was slick beneath her feet, both creating a puddle of water and mud. Gently, she brushed away a stray raindrop with her thumb, her eyes sweeping over him in awe.

"I know." She nodded, clasping the wrists that held her cheeks. "I'm not afraid of that, Robb. We are different people than we were. So long as we are honest with each other. I will try to be understanding to your honor and morals." She took a shaky breath, her heart beating loudly in her chest. Somewhere along the way, her headache was forgotten. "Do you want to start again?"

"I'm sorry, was that not obvious?" Robb asked with a smile, teasing her again. And as for his morals... Well, Margaery had been right in suggesting they'd both changed. In this place, after everything, he had begun to see how senseless it was in being inflexible.

"You're shivering," he added, scuffing his hands over her arms. "You need to get out of those wet clothes and into something dry." The linens were still at their feet, and he bent to retrieve them.

"I'm afraid I've made a mess of some of these," he said, the carefully-folded items now tangled, and several of them wet and dirty from what they two had tracked inside. "This one looks decent enough," he added, and held a towel Margaery's way.

"I wanted to hear it again, it seemed too perfect to be true." She stole a kiss from him, lingering and sweet, the price he must pay for his teasing. It was a strange thing to consider how far they had both traveled and changed. There was a confidence and steadiness in Robb that she hadn't seen before. She didn't feel the need to battle for control, he was safe and kind. "If I must kick you, you must pinch me. Otherwise I might think this is..."

She trailed off, as the pieces started to fall in place. What she had seen on the porch, it wasn't a dream. It was a glimpse into their future. The cloak she would make for him, their tree and the barn she was planning. How...?

The thought and question broke away as he rubbed her arms, holding out the linens for her. She stared down at his hands for a moment, letting her mind process the weight of information. "What about you?" She tugged at his wet shirt for emphasis.

"Well, seeing as I don't live here, I haven't anything to dry to put on," Robb answered, and set aside the remainder of the linens so he could toss the towel about Margaery's shoulders and rub against her arms again.

"And obviously someone will have to go back out into the deluge to check on your cow," he added with a knowing, if fondly beleaguered arch of his eyebrows. "It won't be you. And I've been in worse, I assure you."

She hesitated, afraid for him to go back into that storm. There had been no further tremors, but that underlying tension was still there. But he was right, someone needed to see if her animals were safe and standing. Whatever her concerns, he needed something clean and warm. "If you are going to go, at least cover yourself with that." She nodded to the hideous cloak. "It should keep you somewhat dry."

She toed out of her shoes, kicking them towards the dresser. Her body finally stilled as he dried her arms. So long as there were no leaks in the pipes, they both could use the tub and wash away the mud. "Bring back what you need. While you clean up, I'll make us something to eat." She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "You are welcome to stay tonight, if you like? We have an empty bedroom or...it eases my mind to know that you are here."

Edited (completely forgot the number of bedrooms in the house.) 2017-08-01 23:31 (UTC)

It would have been a lie to suggest that there wasn't a distinct appeal in sharing Margaery's bed, but just as present was Robb's concern for her and how she might weather the night, if she might wake trembling or screaming from nightmares. He had enough experience with them himself to understand how easily they returned.

"You strike a hard bargain, my lady," he allowed, and tipped her chin up again for another slow kiss. "It might take me some time. I ought to check on Jon after your animals, perhaps take a quick walk around the village, make sure no one's been seriously injured. Will you be all right alone?"

She hadn't had nightmares for some time, having made her peace with the manner of her death. Or she thought she had. The earthquake had jarred a number of things back to the surface. Alone in the night, her imagination had a way of taking her back to that time.

Her fingers brushed over his cheek as she smiled against his lips. "Yes, of course." The quake had been severe, it was likely there were several damaged houses and possible injuries. "I will. I have something to focus on instead." Cooking and cleaning had never been such a relief. Another kiss and another embrace. "Be careful, my love."

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"Burn Them All!"

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