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I'm speechless.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 16, 2016 7:10:44 GMT
Do you want to see her?
It hadn't been hard to decide, for once. Of course, he wanted, he had prayed to the gods to let him see her, like any husband would have if, their wife would had been taken away from them in this fashion. All he could see was haunting images of her mutilated body in a filthy cell, pleading for water. He wished, that his image of Margaery in her cell was twisted and wrong, that she would be okay, unhurt by the fanatics.
Margaery, out of all people, did not deserve this. She was so compassionate, and not afraid of helping the poor, even though she was high above them. An angel blessed on this Earth, and now held prisoner by the men claiming to represent the Faith. Tommen was disgusted at his own weakness, his own inability to prevent this, and later on, his unwillingness to use force against the fanatics. He was not a good king, that he should have been for Margaery.
Tommen neared the door, where a septa was standing on guard. She knew to wait for him here, didn't she. High Sparrow had a plan to make the queen confess her brother's sins, and probably saw Tommen's visit as beneficial to his own purposes, but the king had no intention of letting his presence influence her thoughts on that. After all this, he couldn't let them break her, because of him, who had let her be imprisoned.
The septa nodded at him, and he nodded back. A key slipped out of her pocket, and in painful speed, it sunk into the keyhole. She twisted it, click, and pulled the door open, just enough for him to get through.
Tommen took a step in. He found himself full of terror for what he was to come to witness, and shame for the fact it was his fault and his fault only. But he couldn't let his fear rule him now. He needed to be the king, that his queen needed right now.
"Margaery?" His voice was uncertain, pleading for forgiveness of the chained queen.
[attr="class","pknotes"]#353 ✖ Margaery Baratheon ✖ so sorry for the lack of detail, my original post, which was twice as long, disappeared and I had to remember how it went, so about 50% of the content was dropped - hope it's okay and you like it | [attr="class","psycho"]A LION & A STAG [attr="class","pkimg"] |
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I Want To Be The Queen
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Moderator || Queen
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117
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House Tyrell / Baratheon
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Lissa
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Post by Margaery Baratheon on Jun 19, 2016 20:04:05 GMT
Every Rose Has It's Thorns... Just Like Every Night Has Its Dawn... Night after night Margaery crouched in her cell. Time meant little in these four walls. You weren't aware entirely of what the world was doing around you. Though each day Septa Unella constantly came in to try and get her to confess to her brothers sin's. All she was guilty of was lying to protect her brother. She would do it again and again rather than to see her brother hurt.
Though over the past few weeks she had been allowed more freedom around the Sept. She was quick to latch onto the High Sparrow's plan to unite the Faith and the Crown. With the crown and the Faith apparently united the Faith would be untouchable. Margaery knew this, though if it was a charade, the Faith would be that much easier to bring down from the inside.
So that was when Margaery decided to play along. Believe that her turn to the Seven, was all part of her repentance. Each day after her talk with the Sparrow she would be allowed in the main hall, supervised and guarded, but a change of the four walls of her cell. That morning she crouched before a pedestal, a top it was the symbol of the Seven. She pretended to be deep in prayer as they expected her to be. When in fact she sat there head bowed and eyes closed for hours her mind consumed with other thoughts.
She looked up then when she heard the key's jingling from the doorway and she turned to look at the doorway then, still crouched on her knees. She half expected it to be the High Sparrow, as it had been every other day of the week. With that knowledge she turned back to bow her head quickly, keeping up the pretence. The door opened and closed behind her and she remained kneeling on the floor. When she heard a familiar voice say her name her head shot up turning in the direction of her husbands voice.
She didn't need to fake the happiness that shown on her face, by seeing him. She may not love him, that would come in time, though she did care for him. She pushed herself to her feet, her dirty brown rags dangling above her ankles as she approached him, "Probably hard to recognise me in these rags, hmm?" Margaery joked as she approached him taking a moment to wrap her arms around him, glad that he was here.
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