sixthiterationlogs | It Comes Crashing Down

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It Comes Crashing Down

WHO: Margaery Tyrell
WHERE: Bungalows #58, #4
WHEN: Feb 12th
OPEN TO: Logan, All
WARNINGS: Injuries, the fallout from being struck by lightening
STATUS: Open during the aftermath

I. [Closed to Logan]

Despite the danger of the lightening storm, there were some things that required Margaery to venture from her home. She was careful to keep the animals indoors, but needed to feed them and look after her pregnant cow. It was only after ensuring that her animals were safe that she returned home to weave and sew. She could at least do these chores safely inside. The growing number of injuries and damage to homes had made her wary, enough that she took care with what would pull her outside.

Seeing Logan was likely unwise, but she had wanted to make a gift of a blanket to him. Her weaving had improved and she had hoped to show him her latest creation. It was a flimsy reason to visit him, but one that encouraged her to step outside.

As she neared Bungalow 58, she could feel a tension appear in the air. There was a buzzing against her ear, a small crackle that disturbed the otherwise quiet day. Her body felt as though it were tingling, her hair suddenly standing on end. She hurried her steps, feeling her heart skip a beat. His steps were so near, only a few feet away. But before she could reach safety, there was a sudden CRACK and she collapsed to the ground. Her body felt as though it were on fire, sending her back to the moment that the Sept had erupted in a green light. Sound disappeared; she knew that she had screamed but couldn't hear herself. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, leaving her struggling for breath.

There was someone beside her but she couldn't see, only a vague outline of a figure.

II. [Open]

She had been seen and received treatment. While the injuries were minor, her mind still whirred, raising anxiety in her. The burns hadn't been severe, but they left her trembling and afraid. She kept her mind from drifting back to Westeros, focused on every small detail of her room. The feel of her mattress beneath her, the cold in the air and the sound of the bungalow settling.

It took a great deal for her to remain in bed. Gilbert rested at her side, his soft fur a sweet balm to her burned skin. Finally her heart had settled in her chest and she could breathe once more. Her eyes trailed over her room, bored and restless.

She wouldn't remain in bed for long, not if she had her way.

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"I lied and manipulated to get what I wanted." She said, thinking back to the game that she had willingly played, all in an attempt to gain the thrown. "I sided with a family that had murdered and tormented others, all in a quest for power that rivaled their own." It may seem small, but it had lead to a loss of life that she could not bear on her conscience.

"I imagine life would have gone differently for me if I had not been so intent to become Queen."

Cougar raises his brow. The first point is something they've all done. Cougar's done enough undercover work and special ops to have lied and manipulated more than enough times to earn him a scout's badge in it, but the second part isn't something that he'd ever thought to associate with her, even though it's not that she's a woman. It's that she hadn't struck him as that type, like Aisha, who could turn her power to something so malevolent.

"Why?" he says, bluntly. "Why the need for power?"

"Because that was the means to survive and prosper in our world." It was a pitiful excuse and not exactly true. She couldn't say why exactly she wanted the power, only that she wanted it. She wanted to be queen. That was all that mattered when she had lived in Westeros. Only until her brother had been placed in danger, all because of her thirst for power.

"I could safeguard and see my family prosper. My children would have been given a golden future and ruled after their father."

Edited 2017-02-28 07:52 (UTC)

Max had power. He'd taken more and more of it until he wanted to destroy. The men they took down had power, too, the kind that corrupted until it did nothing more than debase the people around them. He wonders, if they lived in the same world, if they would have been sent to stop her.

"Would you have hurt people to do it? Turned them into less? Made them suffer?"

She honestly didn't know. She hadn't harmed anyone innocent, not the people or the court. Her target had only been Cersei and removing her. Yet, she couldn't lie to herself about what price there had been to her choices. Lady Catelyn and Robb had been killed, Loras had been imprisoned, her house fell apart. How could she not feel somewhat responsible for it.

"No," she said softly. Not consciously. "That life is behind me as it is. If I leave this place, it isn't a world I will be returning to."

Cougar has to take her for her word. Doesn't he? He's not the kind of man who becomes proactive in what he does, like a vigilante. He's used to waiting for orders, taking them, and doing something with them to make the world a better place. At least, he wants to think that's what he does. "Then no, I don't think this is punishment," he says, for her injuries. "Not if you have repented."

Repented. She hated that word with a visceral loathing. She couldn't forget how her brother was mutilated to show repentance to the group of fanatics that had tormented and tortured him. Despite all of Cersei's crimes (and there were many), the one thing that Margaery could admire and agree with was that there should be no repentance. Not for the way someone lived their lives.

She had made decisions that lead to her family's death, but Loras had been innocent in that. Why did he need to repent?

She gave a small sigh, changing the subject instead. "Has everyone else been safe? No other injuries so far?"

He shakes his head, because while many have escaped, there have been some very high tolls. "Not everyone is so lucky," is what he says, quietly. There have been other injuries and there is Ren's passing, though he has to wonder if that hadn't been some kind of punishment in itself, from what he had observed about the man.

"Some other injuries," he says. "Only one life gone."

"I heard about Ren," she replied in a soft voice that matched his. She had known Ren, albeit briefly. It was hard to forget the man that dove into the fountain shortly after she arrived, searching for the means to escape. The tragic part of this was that he had, but not in the way that he had intended. "It's such a waste. he only just returned and now..."

She couldn't finish that thought.

Cougar isn't sure what he'd thought of the other man, honestly, because it had been too short a time of him being here, gone, and then back. It's not that he wishes him ill, of course, but he also doubts they would have wound up best friends. Something about him seemed like the kind of a person that wouldn't mesh very well with someone as hard to get along with as Cougar is.

"You are not him," he feels compelled to remind her of the good. "You are you and you're safe. On the mend," he points out.

She nodded before reaching over to squeeze his hand, thankful for that simple reminder and the kindness he showed her. Until this moment, she wasn't certain what he thought of her or if he considered her a friend. His visit was truly touching, enough to life her spirits.

"No, I'm not him, but the scare this gave me left me wondering if I would die." It was a frightening experience. "I died in my world by fire. The feeling of the lightening against my skin, it brought those memories back."

Cougar isn't entirely sure what happens back at home, but he feels like whatever happens with Max is going to come with an end attached. It's just a matter of what kind of end that means for him. Fire is something he feels would be circular, after the helicopter crash. "Do you need someone to talk to? I don't speak much," he says, voice low and gravelly, "but I can listen."

She shook her head. The offer was kind, but she had never been skilled at talking about her feelings or her pain. It was easier to forget it existed than to actually put to words everything that was running through her mind. "Perhaps someday." It might happen, but it wasn't something that could be forced.

"I wouldn't wish to ruin this visit."

He's not sure there's a way you can ruin a visit by being yourself, by being honest, but if that's what she wants, then Cougar doesn't intend to dissuade her. "Okay," is what he says, reaching out to give her a light squeeze of his hand to her palm. "Do you need anything? I can run, for you. I'm very quick," he guarantees.

She feels a swell of gratitude, both at the offer and the gesture of kindness. "I need someone to look after my animals until I am recovered. I haven't been able to let them graze, not during this storm. One of the cows is pregnant and she needs a bit more attention, the sheep need shearing as well. Could you take care of them for me?"

"Yes," he promises, because that much, he can do. He might not be as good with knives as Roque was, but he can manage to get the wool off a sheep. "I'll bring the wool," he promises, though he also wonders if he should find someone who can help to knit it, too. "When will the cow birth?"

"Once I am out of bed, I will be able to spin the wool. For now, the sheep will at least feel a bit of relief and mobility." With spring coming, she didn't want them to become overheated. "She should birth in a few months. If it goes well, we should have fresh milk and butter."

"When that happens, I'll trade eggs for butter," he offers, seeing as he's working on a deal to get milk, as well, but butter would be a very good thing to have, especially with his sweet tooth and need for chocolates and candies. Maybe he'll even be able to start making cookies, properly, again.

"I can help, even when you're better," he offers.

She could only hope the Observers would grant her a butter churn. It would make matters so much easier. "With eggs, milk and butter, we could make something very sweet." They could have cakes and many other things, especially with Spring coming and the fruit trees ready to bloom.

"I appreciate the offer. My animals are very dear to me. Perhaps more than is wise."

"We just have to make sure we get the chance," he says, a reprimand that she needs to focus on resting and not her animals, no matter how much she has affection for them. "They will be there, promise. If you do not heal properly, you might not be," he says, and it might be scare-mongering and dark, but he feels like he needs to get serious.

She smiled at his efforts into getting her to cooperate. "Very well." Her head was beginning to ache and she could feel a measure of exhaustion wash over her. Even a small conversation was enough to drain her quickly. "I should rest." She said, leaning back against her pillows. "It was so kind of you to visit."

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It Comes Crashing Down

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