Gather Ye Roses

[thekittenqueen]

WHO: Margaery
WHERE: #4 Bungalow, Woods, the police station
WHEN: 4/3 - 4/4
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Nothing, but will update if needed
STATUS: OPEN

---

The Woods

The mornings were much the same as ever. With winter slowly coming to a close, it meant that many of the plants and flowers would bloom again, allowing Margaery to gather with the same fervency and delight as before. While her walk through the woods had been to collect kindling and winter fruit, she made a point to stop by many of her favored places to inspect how the plants were faring. Were there buds yet? How far along were they?

It wasn't uncommon to hear noises in the woods. There were others more often about now, many hunters or villagers exploring. When she heard a twig snap behind her, Margaery expected to see a familiar face. Instead, a deer slowly walked from the underbrush, sniffing the ground and listening for potential predators. Margaery rooted herself, hardly daring to move or breathe.

She could sense someone nearing behind her. Taking the risk, she raised her hand, signalling for them to stop. "I have never seen a doe this close before." She whispered.

The Police Station (Outside)

The usual sounds of animals protesting filled the air as Margaery opened the station doors to allow her animals out, her dog Gilbert herding them towards the fields where they could graze. There was still no large pen for her to let them roam about in, much to her chagrin. However, this was better. Gilbert had become diligent in keeping the animals in check, ushering back a sheep that strayed too far or yapping at a cow that lingered too long in the grass. It was pleasant, comforting.

She watched from a reasonable distance, scanning the fields for wolves or any other predators. She counted her animals in her head, tallying the amount she saw ever half hour. Many of the sheep were growing fat, a few pregnant with lambs. She would need to find a place for them all soon.

As someone passed her, Margaery tore her eyes away for a moment to smile at the nearby figure. "It is finally becoming warm again!" She announced happily. "We can begin planting again and think more about what we wish to do with the animals."

#4 Bungalow - Closed to Ned

It was common routine for Margaery to work on her weaving once her animals had finished grazing until the sun could no longer provide her proper light. The cold weather no longer hindered her from sitting on her porch, listening to the sounds of the world around her. She had fond memories of spinning during the summer, now she could weave during the spring. There were birds in the distance, optimistic for the coming warmth. Gilbert was at her feet, worn out from his work and napping as she lightly sang "The Bear and the Maiden Fair."

It was only when she came to the chorus that she noticed Lord Stark nearing her home. They had walked together earlier in the morning, having explored the woods and simply spoken about what he needed to learn. Once they returned to the village, they had parted ways and she had left to let her animals graze. She hadn't paid much mind to what the Starks might be doing, but she assumed they'd be together. Not that it wasn't pleasant to find one Stark or another turning up at her door.

She paused in her work, rubbing her hands on her skirts. "Back so soon?"

Comments

[thekittenqueen]

That was a "no" then. She nodded, crossing her arms as though she had been struck by a cold wind. It was the answer she expected, truth be told. It was no simple matter to move past self imposed expectations, though she had hoped that Lord Eddard's presence would help alleviate that guilt. One look at Robb should have served as a better answer than the actual response.

"I don't expect it to be easy, Robb. If it were, you would have reconciled with it long ago. I merely hoped that seeing your father again would have helped." There was a side of her that could be idealistic. "I suppose it must have made things more difficult."

[king_in_the_north]

"Don't be cross with me," Robb pleaded, his smile chagrined as he composed himself, his eyes soft as he looked back to her. "It's impossible for you to understand. I was laughing at myself, not your idealism. I swear it."

Her arms were crossed, an invisible wall fallen abruptly between them at his misstep, and without thinking he reached out, calloused fingers squeezing imploringly against Margaery's closest forearm. He ducked a bit to better catch her eye.

"Don't be cross with me," he repeated. "You're right, of course. It simply isn't an easy thing."

[thekittenqueen]

She flinched at the feel of his hand against her arm. The gesture was more familiar than they had been with each other in some time. Despite her hesitation and fear, she let her arms fall away from her chest. Gently, she linked their hands, clasping his between her equally calloused fingers. "I'm not cross with you, Robb."

It was said softly, her gazed locked on him. Instinct told her to smile and return to a certain level of levity and flirtation, but it wasn't appropriate and she wanted to be honest with Robb. As hard as it was, he was one of the few (if only person) in the village who had seen her true self. She wasn't certain she even know who that was, but Robb had a better idea than she did. As difficult as it was, she would temporarily lower her walls.

"I wasn't cross with you. I was thinking of the expectations we place on ourselves. We seem to be the greatest obstacle to actual happiness or ease." With others or with themselves. "I'm sorry. I know that I'm only saying things that you already know. I do understand though what it is you are carrying."

[king_in_the_north]

The image of Margaery's hands clasped over his own gave Robb pause, his eyes fixed on the image, his throat gone dry. His brow pinched as he wrestled with himself, the feeling of her fingers warm and temptingly familiar.

"Don't apologize," he said at length, and looked up to her eyes again. "You're a good woman, Margaery." Doubtless better than he ever deserved. "I know you only mean well. I oughtn't have laughed, it's only..."

He trailed off, finally extracting his hand from hers to push his fingers restlessly through his hair as his gaze skipped off to the trees. "It's the alternative to weeping, I suppose," he quietly admitted.

[thekittenqueen]

She overstepped herself perhaps, the gesture was familiar and she couldn't decide whether it was wise or not to push too much on him. When he extracted his hands, she took a half step back and lowered her gaze once more. They had stopped along the path, the sound of the wind in the trees was the only disruption to their conversation.

He called her good, but she didn't believe herself to be as good as others claimed. She was realistic. If she were truly good, she wouldn't have chosen to wed the Lannisters or placed her ambitions above justice. The compliment was at least kind and coaxed a sad smile from her. "As are you." A far better person than she was. His motives had at least been pure. "A better man than you give yourself credit for."

She set her basket on the ground, unconcerned with any animals that might steal her harvest. They were safe and alone in this spot and she didn't want to leave yet, not when they spoke on something deep and difficult. "Do you weep?" It was a personal question, but as he pointed out, they were well beyond it now. "Robb, you are a good man." She said it before, but it bore repeating. "You were a good king who made a mistake, as all kings do. What happened was not your doing and you are not to blame for what happened to your men. It was the treachery and unconscionable actions of three men that didn't think of the consequences."

And there were consequences, each paid a price. "Near a year and you still punish yourself. There is nothing to be gained from it, only a continual torture that will prevent you from finding happiness and, gods, that is something I want desperately for you." Even if she couldn't give it to him personally. "You are not and never were to blame. I refuse to let you think it anymore. If I must come to your house and follow you while you hunt, shouting it at you, I will." Now she was the one to laugh, letting it take the place of deeper emotions.

"I truly do know that guilt of believing you are the cause for your family's demise. I bear it as well. You are not alone in this, even if you feel you are. I will always be willing to shoulder your burden, if you let me."

[king_in_the_north]

For so long, Robb had believed himself a good man. An honorable man. Never the man his father had been, but a man who could live within his shadow and continue his legacy, a man worthy of sharing the same name.

He was a Stark, and that had meant something. It hadn't been until much later, well after his father had died and Robb had put the North and his own house on the road to ruin that it had truly occurred to him that he might have what it meant to be a Stark all wrong.

He squeezed his eyes closed, listening to the sudden rush of his pulse in his own ears until he could no longer bear the images his mind wanted to conjure behind his eyelids. Once, his sorrow and regret had fueled an implacable, irrational anger, but now, it was simply exhausting. With his father here, some days it felt too great a weight to bear. That Margaery wanted to help him carry it was an overwhelming relief, even if the mere idea of it came with its own measure of guilt.

"My mother—" he began, and then stopped, his face going pinched as his throat tried to close. "I watched. I saw." He looked back to Margaery, blue eyes magnified by unshed tears. "How can I tell him?"

[thekittenqueen]

Theirs was a world where House came before anything else. The name they carried held weight, but it seemed the Starks carried theirs to a degree that it nearly crushed them. She had seen Robb and Jon, both stoic and grim, but merely assumed it was because all they suffered. Now in knowing Ned, it was clear that the Stark men bore the burden of honor and guilt, wearing it as though it were a cloak of the North. Even the strongest man would break beneath that weight and she had no desire to see Robb fall.

His mother. There had been talk in King's Landing of what had happened to Catelyn Tully. Lady Brienne said nothing, but Joffery was all too happy to crow about it. The image was difficult to stomach, even second hand. It wasn't hard to imagine how Ned would take the news. She could understand Robb's hesitation to inflict that sorrow. It certainly wouldn't help ease his guilt.

"I could speak to him about what happened?" She offered in a soft voice. He wouldn't be told the entire story, not the gruesome details that Joffery was all too willing to share, especially in front of Sansa. But he could at least know what happened to both Robb and Catelyn, gently and over time. "It wouldn't be wise to tell him everything at once, but I could do that for you?"

[king_in_the_north]

Never would Robb have ever considered suggesting such a thing, and the offer seemed so overwhelmingly generous, so beyond what he might have expected anyone to do for him that he could not find his voice to reply. It was not a burden he ought to have allowed Margaery to take upon herself, he understood that clearly. But the sheer, unfettered relief the idea brought was near enough to topple him over had he less of a hold on himself.

Margaery had the benefit of distance, and a canny hand at politesse. Could it be possible that such a thing might be better heard from her, instead of a son so broken that he could scarcely utter the words aloud?

Wordless, face pinched, he nodded, and allowing himself to move without thinking, pulled Margaery into a tight, grateful embrace.

[thekittenqueen]

The change in expression was near instantaneous, allowing her to see how much weight her offer removed from his shoulders. Her eyes softened once more, moved by the level of emotion he displayed and the knowledge that her suggestion could make such a difference. Given what she was willing to do to ensure his happiness, this hadn't been a difficult suggestion to make, but never did she imagine how greatly it would help him.

She had no illusions that the information would hurt Ned, this was not an easy topic for a man to hear. This was countered in her eyes by a more distant goal that she had little idea how to bring about. This subject might bring closure to the Starks and allow them to find that happiness that seemed to be so elusive. There would be no more secrets and no more guilt that Robb punished himself with. She was willing to do anything to see that come about.

She felt her throat constrict as he pulled her into an embrace. She offered these displays to her friends, but rarely were they bestowed on her and never in this way. Her arms tightened around him, holding him close as emotion passed through her like a rough current. Things she felt, but didn't think she should and feelings that she had never easily displayed. Her fingers threaded through the soft silk of his curls, gently stroking his hair to offer him further comfort. He was grateful, but she was as well. She knew now how to help him.