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

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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

[learned_to_die]

"There is always a choice, m'lady, but oft times the alternative is so unthinkable that it may as well not be an option at all," Ned replies, eyes flicking from her to the fire. He thinks about that - not often, not most days - but every so often, he wonders what life might've been like had he arrived and not been met so immediately and wondrously by his children. He wonders whether he would've been able to have endured thus far had they not been reunited.

But now is not the time for such dark musings.

His gaze doesn't return to her face as she speaks. Even now, he can hear the careful filtration of her words, the deliberate secrecy she maintains.

Gods, he thinks, how terrible had it been that there isn't a soul to spare the truth?

He nods a bit, to acknowledge that he's heard her words and the facts she's decided to share with him - however vague they might be. Mention of Cat feels like a dull dagger in his chest, gnawing and aching all at once, and he absently rubs his fingers against his breastbone to ease it away.

"And then?" he asks, voice a bit more grave and weighty.

[thekittenqueen]

She watched him carefully, sensing a silent plea in him to know the full details of what happened after his death. As much as she didn't want to overstep her place, Ned was no fool and didn't want to be left in the dark. His children didn't seem eager to tell their ordeals with him, but he wasn't blind. He had to know there was some darkness in their pasts.

Margaery sighed, rising to her feet to collect a bottle of wine. This wasn't a conversation to have without some libation. She handed him a cup and returned to her seat. Turned towards him, she leaned on her knees, careful to hold his gaze. If she was to reveal the truth to him, she would make certain she would only give as much as he could manage for one day.

"What happened still weighs heavily on Robb, I believe. He wishes to make you proud. He s not to blame for the duplicity of Roose Bolton, Walder Frey or Tywin Lannister. I wish I knew how to make him understand that, but perhaps you could help him?" It was difficult to see him punishing himself. "He is a good man and I think a better king than any of the others that seemed to emerge shortly after Joffery took the throne."

But that was neither here no there. "I was in King's Landing with Sansa when I learned what happened. Robb had pledged himself to Walder Frey's daughter to earn Lord Frey's support. However, Robb wed a daughter from House Westerling." A woman Margaery knew little about, save for her association to House Lannister. "Robb was undefeated on the field, so Tywin Lannister sought other means to remove the threat of him."

She took a long drink of her wine. "I don't know how it came about, but Walder Frey and Roose Bolton seem to have conspired with Tywin. Lord Edmure Tully was to marry one of Walder Frey's daughters. During the wedding, while supposedly protected by Guest Rights, Robb and his men were killed. It was..." barbaric, heartbreaking. There were a number of words to describe it. "Walder Frey was given Riverrun and Roose Bolton was named Warden of the North."

The rest, how Joffery celebrated, how Sansa was tormented, she would spare Ned for now. The knowledge of the Red Wedding would be painful enough. She nearly reached for his hand, but kept hers folded in her lap. "Both Joffery and Tywin were killed not long after." As though that could be any comfort.

[learned_to_die]

When she shifts and moves, then returns with a fetched bottle of wine, Ned can only breathe out something like a laugh. But there's no joy in his eyes, no glitter of amusement that she's now seen more often than perhaps some of his family. There is foreboding, worry, concern. If she deemed it necessary to allow the comfort of spirits to infiltrate his mind (and perhaps his heart), he can only begin to predict what might be to come

He takes the cup all the same, nodding a small bit of gratitude. He lets his gaze linger in its whirling liquid, his hand lightly circling the cup in the air. He knows enough to raise his eyes to meet hers, though - it's the least he could do, if she is going to finally lay the truth at his feet.

"Jon revealed to me Bolton's betrayal; I could not believe my ears when he first told. Our houses had been allies for a thousand years." Just the thought of it made his blood boil with rage, though he kept his fury tamped down. Mention of Walder Frey's betrayal, however, is something new. Ned feels the grip on his cup tighten somewhat as he listens. He has no doubt of his son's ability to rule, though he had wished the title forced upon him at a much later age - long after Ned had been able to impart the wisdom he'd accumulated over the years.

He exhales a quiet sigh at the mention of Robb betraying an oath to Frey's daughter, especially given that it had been for an alliance. But all of that fades as Margaery continues. He can feel the color draining from his face, puddling at his boots. He rests the bottom of his cup on his leg to keep it steady, his hands trembling with -

He isn't sure what. Sadness, anger, devastation, disbelief .. it was a great many emotion currently surging its way through Ned's veins, and it took all of his strength to keep himself moderately composed in the presence of another person.

His jaw clenches as his gaze lands somewhere on the ground. There are tears stinging the backs of his eyes, though no liquid falls onto his cheeks. He wants nothing more than to run to Robb, embrace him with every ounce of strength he might have left, and attempt to soothe away whatever guilt he might still carry. How could Robb have met such a cruel fate? My son, he thinks through the tremors wracking his body. My boy, my son.

Ned barely hears mention of Joffrey and Tywin's fate, though something in the back of his mind registers it with some exaltation of joy. There will be no tears spared for their deaths, especially when news of Robb's .. (he cannot even think the word death) .. demands all of them. He presses his fore and middle fingers to his lips, willing the rumbling bile to stay in his stomach instead of spouting forth the way it wants.

"Thank you for telling me," he manages to whisper, though his voice sounds far away, as though echoing through a canyon from a great distance. "Thank you for your honesty."

[thekittenqueen]

There was no joy in the telling of it all. Even before the words passed through her lips, she knew the pain this would cause him. While she didn't understand what it was to be a parent, she knew that Ned loved his children deeply. Before meeting him, she had seen the pride they each carried when they spoke of him. It was the sort of respect and reverence that came from a loving family, one that was close and deeply entwined.

She had offered to tell him, lifting that burden from Robb's shoulders, but it didn't make it any easier for Ned. She was glad that she had enough foresight to stagger what she would tell him. Better to let him absorb and process this before she told him of his wife and how she had been killed alongside Robb. There was only so much a man could take and Ned, while strong and weathered, could easily break from the sorrow.

"Power has a way of corrupting." She murmured, able to understand what prompted House Bolton's betrayal, though it was strange such deceit came from a Northern house. The Northmen were normally renown for their honor and loyalty. Roose Bolton shifted with the turning tides, seeing an opportunity and seizing it, no matter if it meant going against the laws and traditions of men.

She set her glass to the side, reaching out to place her hand on his arm. A small touch of comfort as she watched him absorb it all. "I can't imagine what you must think or feel in hearing this. It is all justified. These seasoned men didn't know how else to defeat Robb, so they used underhanded means." Just as Cersei had, but as soon as that thought appeared in her head, she pushed it away hastily. This wasn't about Cersei or herself, it was about the Starks. They were a house that suffered greatly and far too often.

"He didn't know how to tell you." Her hold tightened, trying to impress strength into him as well as all of the compassion that burned within her heart. "Ever since he arrived in this place, I think he's carried this guilt and belief that he is the cause of your family's struggles. Or that he isn't the man you would want him to be. It isn't his fault, none of what happened is his fault." He wasn't ready to hear about his wife yet, but it was important to press that fact to him. He would need to bear in mind what cowards these men were when he learned the rest.

She gave his arm a tug, urging him into a hug. "Don't let this defeat you." Her voice was soft, a soothing murmur in the night. "This is a place of second chances, for all the strangeness and frightening occurrences. Whatever else happens here, you have your children and the opportunity to live as a family. You can start again and find happiness with them. They need you to show them that." He was the iron that strengthened his house and the one who could show his children that they could be happy. She had no doubt of that.

Finally, she pulled back, catching his gaze. "You will find the way forward. I know you will."

[learned_to_die]

Power has a way of corrupting. It echoes in his ears and although he knows it to be true, Ned's heart still cannot fathom a desire, an urge, a hunger so great that it would drive a once-great house to betrayal. He knows that his biggest downfall had been believing in the purity of others, holding them to the same standard to which he held himself and his family when it came to honor and duty, and that he had put his trust into a basket laden with holes and tears. He knows this is what ultimately brought about his demise, believing Cersei would have done the right thing, but how many had taken drink from the same sort of river? How many would be so quick to disregard and murder others in the pursuit of power, perceived or otherwise?

The touch of her hand on his arm manages to draw him away from the darkness of his thoughts for but a moment, and he's only able to keep his gaze on hers for a breath before it retreats to the floor once again.

"No, surely not. None of it should fall upon his shoulders," Ned whispers, his other hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "If it is anyone's burden to bear, it is my own; had it not been for me, Robb would never have been unjustly thrust into becoming a Lord before his time. It is a guilt that is all my own." And it is one that consistently ate away at Ned, from morn until eve, made worse whenever he gazed upon his eldest.

Her embrace is a shock, but not an unwelcome one. He does not return it with his own arms, now devoid of strength and ability, but he appreciates it all the same.

"Yes, you - you are right," he murmurs into her shoulder. "I've not done enough to help them. I've been too caught in my own thoughts and musings that I've been blinded to their needs and what they require of me. I will - I will show them."