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WHO: Margaery Tyrell
WHERE: The Fountain
WHEN: July 21st
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open

There had been green before her eyes and the rumble of the ground beneath her feet. A sudden roar and then it all disappeared, replaced by the sound of splashing and swirling water before her eyes. Margaery sputtered, liquid filling her eyes, nose and mouth, pulling her down into the depths as she struggled to understand what was happening and where she was.

Pressure grew in her chest, reminding her that she didn't have time to rest in a delirium. She needed air and needed to fight to the surface for it. Kicking and struggling, she swam fiercely, channeling all of her confusion and fear into her movements. It wasn't long before the light she chased was in reach and the surface surrounded her. She took a sharp ragged breath, scanning around her environment, on edge and waiting for more danger. Her limbs trembled, shock deeply rooted in her.

Slowly, she pulled herself from the fountain (was a fountain really so deep?) and fell against the ground. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her heartbeat returning to normal. She sputtered, spitting out the excess water that had found itself into her mouth.

That was done. She had survived, but where had she landed? What place was this and what waited for her? What nightmare had she woken to?

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His identity hit her like a flash of lightening. "Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." She didn't need confirmation. Where else would Sansa go but to her half brother? It was the only place she'd feel safe. "How is Sansa? Is she all right?" The young woman who was her friend, Margaery had often wondered about her and where she would have gone.

That she had reclaimed the North brought a smile to her face. "She must be so happy to be home again."

"Well enough, my lady. She's safe now. I had to rescue her from where she was being held by the Boltons but she's well now. I made sure of that." There was no way that Jon would ever let harm come to his sister again and being here frustrated him in more ways than one. Would Sansa continue to be safe if he was here in this damnable place? He hoped so.

"You knew her in King's Landing, I presume? I know she spent a long time there. She went south after I went to the Wall and I didn't see her again until just recently."

"I did know her," she said with a fond smile, as much as she could muster in this foreign and tense situation. It was almost a relief to talk to him and to know he was from her world. She wasn't alone here. Even better that she was with a Stark, no matter if he did not bear Ned's name.

She had wondered how Sansa had fared in the upheaval and madness of Joffery's death. The girl had disappeared, spared from facing a trial and possible execution. However, it seemed that instead of at least being near some who cared about her, she was placed in the hands of the Boltons. The family that murdered her family.

"How did you come to be here?"

"I came through the fountain, my lady, same as everyone else," Jon said. It was a strange way to go from world to world and while Jon trusted magic a little more now than he did before he still didn't entirely trust things that he did not understand. The fountain was one of those.

"I don't know how it works. Others who came here aren't from Westeros and don't know the name of my house or Winterfell. I don't know how that fountain can connect to both Westeros and places beyond."

It was a strange magic, that seemed to be the only explanation available to them. It wasn't very satisfying to set her mind at ease, but it was all that she would find. Either she accepted it until a better opportunity for answers arrived or she would go mad from the frustration.

She had seen what madness could do and opted for as much patience as she could muster for now.

"Are we dead?" She asked in a soft voice. She was in Westeros, but was this the place that they came to when they died?

"Not that I know of, my lady. Last I checked, I was very much alive." He'd been made the King in the North and he'd seen Ramsay Bolton dead and his house extinct. That was as far from dead as Jon could manage at the moment - or so he thought.

"What makes you think we might be? Simply because this place is strange and so far from home? Because I don't think we are. I had just won a great battle on the fields outside Winterfell."

"So it is only me then?" Or did they not know they were dead? It was enough to make her head spin and the fear to set in once again. What was this place if not an afterlife. The gods never spoke about what happened after death, but she couldn't imagine it being any worse than this.

No matter how kind Jon was to her. It didn't erase her fear.

"The Sept of Baelor was destroyed by Wildfire." She said softly. "My family and I were inside."

Jon looked at her for a moment, utterly shocked, and shook his head. "There is no way that could have happened. I would have heard of it, wouldn't I? Winterfell isn't so far removed from the rest of the world."

Then again, who would have sent a raven north? Who would have thought to inform House Bolton of the demise of House Tyrell? It was unfathomable.

"Why would this happen?"

"It did happen." Margaery told him, wishing that he was right. "Cersei and my brother were to face trial. Loras admitted to the charges and accepted the judgement of the Sparrows. Cersei did not arrive because she didn't intend to go to trial." She could still hear her voice pleading with the High Sparrow to listen.

'She understands the consequences'

Cersei had understood and upped the ante. No one seemed to realize it or heed that warning until it was far too late and the ground rumbled beneath them.

"Cersei destroyed the Sept and all those she deemed her enemies."

"The woman is completely mad," Jon said, letting out a low curse beneath his breath. He had known that House Lannister was hell-bent on destroying any and all perceived rivals but he had thought that House Tyrell was their ally. It seemed he knew very little about politics in the South.

"Thank the Gods that my sister escaped before this happened. I hate what did happen to her, mind, but at least I know that she is alive and well." He gave Margaery a gentle look then, aware of what he'd said.

"And I'm glad you're safe here, my lady."

"Sansa is safe?" Margaery asked, feeling relief flood her. Out of all the shock and trauma, knowing that her friend had escaped and was safe put her mind at ease. Cersei was capable of anything and Sansa was someone that could easily become a target, especially as Cersei blamed her for Joffery's death. "What happened to her?"

She looked around, apprehensive and uncertain. "Am I safe? How can you be so certain? What is this place?" He wouldn't have the answer, she didn't expect that, but she had to ask nevertheless. It would be asked a million times over.

"You are safe because I would give my life to protect you, just as I hope that your brother would do the same for one of my sisters," Jon said firmly. He had no quarrel with House Tyrell and, to hear her speak, she had been a friend to his sister. That was enough for him.

"As to Sansa, we rescued her from Ramsay Bolton. Well, I should say that Sansa rescued herself. She came to me at Castle Black."

"We both would have given our lives to protect her." It was hard to know now what would have happened, had Sansa been caught by Cersei. She was safe, at least, and back at Winterfell where she belonged. Perhaps she could finally be happy, rather than tormented, as she was in King's Landing.

"That must have been a beautiful reunion."

"I missed her so much," Jon said. "We had never been close as children but considering neither of us have any family left, it was good to see her. It was good to know she was alive."

Perhaps not well, no, but Sansa was made of sterner stuff than most. Jon had faith that she would be resilient, that she wouldn't let what happened to her define her for the rest of her life.

"Considering both of your experiences, it's understandable. I imagine it also helped strengthen your relationship as well. Neither of you are children any longer. Such grudges can be put aside in favor of clinging to what you have." Her family had never had such divisions, but she had seen others that did. Despite the love that Sansa showed for Robb, she never heard the girl speak of Jon or Arya. Though given what she was experiencing, she knew that Sansa was trying not to mention her family so that she might survive.

"Do you think you could show me where I might get warm?" She asked, looking down at her wet clothes.

"Yes, my lady, I'm sorry." Jon should have seen to her comfort at the first instead of talking to her but he had been so eager for news from Westeros that her discomfort had not been readily obvious. He offered his arm to her, wanting to escort her properly.

"I'll take you to the inn for now and then we can see about finding you something more suitable in the way of a home. There's houses here. None are as fine as what you'd be used to, of course, but it's serviceable."

She took his arm with a murmur of thanks, shaking despite herself. The breeze ripped through her as sharply as the Wildfire, chilling her blood further. However nice this world was, it did not offer much in the way of comfort for new arrivals.

"I don't need much in the way of grandeur. I only want a roof over my head and a fire to warm myself by." Did she even deserve a fine place anymore? She was no Queen and titles seemed to matter little in this place.

"Still, it's my duty to see you comfortable," Jon insisted. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him in order to shield her from the wind and hopefully warm her up a bit.

"I have no cloak, my lady, but I offer you my body in hopes that this will keep you warm enough before I can get you inside. Is that acceptable?"

She leaned against him, allowing him to keep her warm and guide her towards the inn. "Thank you," she murmured, looking up at him with gratitude. "You're very kind." He was also acting like a true gentleman, chivalrous and honorable.

"I'm grateful."

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