Margaery Tyrell (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} rosed) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} somerealityrpg,@ 2020-08-31 09:58:00 |
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charles & margaery
realms and reputations
realms and reputations
Who: Charles Brandon and Margaery Tyrell
What: Charles' arrival
When: August 30th
Where: The Villa
Warnings: Naaaah
Status: Completed via GDOCS
It was invariably a shock to the system. Charles had been hazed in kinder ways than the sudden sprawling metropolis laid out before him. In his hand, he clutched the Entity’s uncomfortable note meant for quite the opposite and tried to remain calm. As a soldier, it was a skill he possessed in spades, but somehow seemed to struggle to remember it. The noises were nearly overwhelming, the ambient chatter fast-paced, and the smells…
Well, better than half of what he got a whiff of outside the palace walls.
Grimly, he made his way to the villa in the hopes that he would find a familiar face. Given the absurdity of the circumstances, he doubted there existed other amenable options. Go to the villa or stay outside under the looming metal structures while people shot him curious looks. Their clothes struck him as odd as his no doubt struck them.
It was an easy enough task, locating the villa. A group of giggling girls managed to direct him accordingly, much to his own internalized embarrassment, and he thanked them politely for their assistance. Their accents baffled him, his head shaking in confusion as he finally found the villa and wandered through its doors.
Now, he was truly at a loss.
“Where to now?” He muttered grudgingly under his breath.
Margaery’s adaptability was her greatest asset, but she was uncertain she would ever become accustomed to this strange realm. Sure, there were little pleasures to be found. The food and the delectable sweets were amongst the greatest experiences of her life. The lights without torches, the water that could be at your fingertips with the twist of a mechanism, the cool air that filled the rooms with a press of a button on the intimidating thing that hung on the wall, the loud modes of transportation, the fashions? All of those things were a conundrum.
Mingling with people hadn’t ever been a problem, though. It was what she was meant for, shaped by the finest hands in the Seven Kingdoms to be the Queen of the people’s hearts. While she internally detested it quite often? No one would ever know. Margaery was very good at playing the game.
As she entered the lobby of the villa, on her way out to explore her new home further now that the scenery was back to ‘normal’, she paused when she caught sight of the very out of sorts looking man adorned in clothing that she was more familiar with.
It did not take long to figure out that he was new, the letter in his hand a dead giveaway, and Margaery allowed that gentle smile to tug at the corner of her lips as she approached him. “Are you lost, my lord?”
Peering down at the note, the added presence of a woman went (shockingly) overlooked for a moment. This didn’t look like any particular villa he had ever seen before, though his experience was strictly with the French by and large. The bigger question weighing on his mind, other than where he needed to go next, was: what the hell was an ostrich?
Shaking his head, he went to crumple the slip of paper when he heard an oddly familiar voice. Familiar, yet somehow not the same either. Quirking a brow, he shifted to glimpse the woman in question and his eyes slowly began to widen. “Lady Anne?” He questioned, backing up a step as though he had seen a ghost.
That had been happening quite a lot to him of late. Why her? Was his guilt over her death so great that he would also be haunted by the former Queen of England? He had not wished for her death, the punishment had not fit her crime (nor did he believe she was guilty of the vast majority of her charges), but what King Henry commanded was sovereign.
Still, he had seen her head fly from her shoulders. Mouth agape he stared at her, confounded until another detail seemed to strike him as odd. Her hair color, how had she changed it? Squinting, he took a curious step forward.
“Perhaps I have found my rightful way to hell, my lady… I beg your pardon,” he offered an apologetic bow. “Yes… I am rather lost.”
Margaery continued to watch him curiously, her own brow arching at the question of her name. “I fear you are mistaken. I am Margaery Tyrell of High Garden, but I have learned since arriving that not many are familiar with my realm.”
It was proving to be a quite difficult task to remember not to refer to herself as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Upon her death, that title ceased to belong to her, but nobody- not even herself as she played the High Sparrow’s game in order to save her brother- could take the moniker of High Garden’s rose from her.
Smile firmly in place, despite his shocked expression, she offered him a proper curtsy at his bow. “I do not believe this is hell, my lord but I can understand why one might think that. Being brought here out of one's element can be rather jarring.” Boldly reaching for the letter he crumpled in his hand, she smoothed out the edges and looked over the words. “I can help you find where you are meant to stay if you like?”
Either Anne had learned some genuine witchcraft or this woman simply bore the most striking resemblance to her that he had ever seen. As Charles did not believe in the former, he had to accept the latter. What would the King think if he were here? What would he do to this strange woman from a realm he had not heard of? For her sake, and even a tiny part of his own, he prayed Henry would not show his face.
“I am not, though there are no doubt a great deal of realms in the world and it would be foolish to lay claim to bearing knowledge of them all.”
Regardless of where she was from, she had come from a cultured upbringing and he could afford this… Margaery… credit for that. What truly caught him off guard was the bold way in which she swiped the Entity’s only greeting and offered him assistance. A woman of her stature, offering him help to his quarters alone? He looked almost appalled.
“Madam, while I’m grateful for the offer… Is it customary for a woman to accompany a man alone in this manner? I’d fear for your reputation.”
“I think you will find this realm to be unlike any other.” That was a bit of an understatement, but she figured it was best not to overwhelm him any further- especially since her presence alone seemed to be doing just that. She was intrigued over this ‘Anne’ that he had mistaken her for, but she would tuck that question away for another day. For now, aiding him in gathering his bearings would take precedence.
But then, he was speaking of her reputation and Margaery had to stifle a laugh. How were women viewed where he was from if the simple notion of accompanying a man alone would spell out ruination for them? Thinking of how her grandmother would most surely respond to such a statement only served to amuse her further.
“Are women void of any independence where you are from? Bound to the opinions of men and their statuses shaped by them? An act of kindness frowned upon simply because they were not born carrying a sword?”
She allowed the implications of her cleverly worded innuendo hang in the air as she finished, looking upon him very pointedly.
Thus far, that had proved already to be an understatement. He seemed almost amused at the comment, then gave a knowing glance about their surroundings. That much was obvious to him. The machinations alone had nearly brought him to his knees, but that would have been tremendously unbecoming of the Duke of Suffolk.
Further commentary was halted when he took notice of that restrained laugh. He opened his mouth to make a remark, but she stunned him again with the ensuing words. What sort of realm was she from that a woman could speak so boldly? Henry had spoken of Queen Jane’s mouth, which had quietly impressed Charles, but he didn’t know this woman or her realm’s traditions. He was positively floored.
“Well…” He nearly stammered, hand falling to where the hilt of his sword would have been had he been stolen in his armor. Weapons were not permitted within the palace walls, however, and so he was unarmed. Unsure of whether her words warranted a slap that he would absolutely never give a woman, or a hearty laugh in return, Charles remained simply dumbfounded for a moment.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” he conceded, never having given that much thought. Women were bound to men and that simply was that. “You certainly do not speak like the ladies of my realm…” Added Charles, head shaking in disbelief. “Though, I’ve a feeling that is not such a bad thing.”
Mouthy women were a bit of a weakness for him.
At his stammering and obvious signs that she had taken him aback, Margaery internally congratulated herself on a job well done. If she were still in King’s Landing she may have slipped on a different mask to play along with his customs, but the former queen was done altering herself to fit into whatever role appeased those around her.
Watching his hand fall, she remained silent as he attempted to work through his thoughts to form a response. This was turning out to be a far more entertaining outing than she anticipated. It wasn’t every day she got to experience the pleasure of watching a handsome noble fumble beneath her words.
“And what would your domineering men do if the roles were reversed,” she asked as she meticulously folded his letter in her hands- her questioning eyes never leaving his. “Would they willingly bend beneath a woman’s judgment? Accept the title of ‘whore’ for offering an escort? Something tells me they wouldn’t be so inclined to adhere to the same fate.”
Smiling then, she offered the precisely folded letter back to him. “I assure you the ladies of your realm have all had similar thoughts without giving them voice.”
“‘Bad’ is a matter of opinion, my lord. Now, am I to know your name, or do you intend on continuing to stare at me like I have sprouted an extra head?”
The lip on this one was incomparable. If it weren’t for these incredibly displaced circumstances, he might very well have had something to say in return that was terribly untoward. Instead, Charles took it calmly, almost amused, and even gave her perspective some consideration. That wasn’t the way they did things in King Henry’s England, but they weren’t in his England.
He wasn’t even sure they were in the right time period, but he didn’t dare reflect further on that insanity.
“I cannot speak for all men, but if I had to submit to the rule of a woman… Would that it were a kingdom run by one such as yourself, my lady.” Another gracious bow was given at that, certainly not about to dispute the statement. Regardless of whether he agreed, Charles was never one to disrespect a lady of high standing.
“No doubt they have,” he agreed, accepting the paper. “None so brave as you to give it voice, I’m afraid.”
Had he gone and neglected to introduce himself? Offering her a legitimately apologetic look, he pressed his fist to his shoulder for a proper one. “Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, Commander of the Royal Army, at your service, my lady.”
A kingdom run by one such as yourself.
At those words, she could almost still feel the weight of her crown upon her head. All she ever wanted was to be queen, but in the end she discovered that those jewels meant very little when there were snakes in your garden. Cersei may have gotten the last laugh, but not before Margaery inflicted irreparable damage. She made several mistakes that ultimately led to her demise, but given the chance? She would always make the same choices when it came to protecting her family.
Pushing those thoughts back into the darkest corners of her mind, she continued to offer him that saccharine smile. Margaery was unsure if he was being sincere or merely placating her. It was probably the latter. A man such as this, accustomed to women being subservient, would require a whole lot more than a few clever words to completely alter his way of thinking. Still, she bowed her head in return.
It was more fun to play a long game, after all.
“Of course, not. Fear is a powerful adversary. Why would they ever voice such things when they have been conditioned to expect repercussions?”
“What an impressive list of titles, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.” Moving to his side, she slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow. Whether she was truly impressed or not, was for her alone to know. “Shall we then? Or are you still fearing for my reputation?”
The boldness of her reminded him vaguely of Lady Anne, but somehow it felt less duplicitous. He doubted she was entertaining Charles wholly out of the goodness of her heart, but he also doubted she wanted anything else out of their encounter. So, it left him at a bit of a disadvantage not knowing quite where on that scale she swung.
“They are merely titles,” he said humbly, proud but modest. He had done little to warrant every last one of them. Had he not been the king’s best mate, the chances afforded him would never have come his way. Learning to appreciate all that was given to him by Henry and the costs that came with it had been one of the most difficult lessons.
Startled again by her forward nature, he glanced down at their linked arms and nearly attempted to question her intentions. He was a married man, one-sided as it were, but married; he was also not in England. Graciously bowing his head, he gestured to the expansive (and no doubt confusing) path before them.
“If you possess no fear, my Lady, neither shall I,” he said reassuringly. “Please, lead the way and ponder how I may, in fact, repay your kindness.”
“Titles can be empty words, it is what you do behind them that matters. Your actions provide the weight, be it good or bad,” she replied earnestly at his display of modesty. Margaery knew the truth behind that statement better than anyone, having been briefly married to possibly the most vile creature to ever possess the title of ‘king’.
Boldness ran rampant through her veins. Even as a child she never knew any other way to behave. It always seemed like such a waste of time to cloak herself in falsities, unless of course she was slipping into a beneficial role. Those instances were largely driven by her ambition, and the only time she deemed a farce worthwhile.
Smiling again as he gestured about the lobby of the villa, she gently tugged on his arm to follow her over to the contraption that she had come to know as an ‘elevator’. “I am never afraid, my lord,” she said as she looked at the buttons on the wall and pressed the one she remembered would take them upward to his assigned quarters. “I do not require repayment, but if you insist I am sure I will think of something.”
Then with a ding the elevator doors were opening and she was leading him inside the miraculous lift. “Perhaps I shall call upon you to escort me about the city? I haven’t properly explored this realm and would like to become better acquainted with it.”
The weight of her words wasn’t lost on him. Almost faltering, an immediate reflection of the faces of slain children flashed before his eyes before her words seemed to disperse them. What did his actions say about him other than that he was first and foremost loyal to the king? Did that make him a good man? Even now, Charles doubted it still.
Lady Anne might have had more caustic things to say, words that would echo the darkest parts of his self-deprecating thoughts. From her, Charles knew he would deserve them; however, he had not thought of the fallen queen for years now. Easily attributing it to meeting this woman who bore a striking resemblance to her did little to quell the unease in his heart. Perhaps this Lady Margaery would be better off not seeking him out for repayment.
She was more than brave or bold, he suspected. There was an innate fearlessness to her that could be deemed magnetic. Despite the maelstrom in his heart, she brought him a measure of relief. They came from different realms, perhaps even times, and this strange world thrust upon them did not seem to faze her. She would make a fine queen, though he wondered if that were even in the cards from whence she came.
The elevator nearly took him by surprise all over again. She moved so effortlessly, not at all bothered by the curious sound or look of it. He hesitated a moment, only coaxed on by her progress, and he looked about in absolute wonder when the machination began to move with the press of a number.
“Apologies, my Lady,” he said, glancing back to her in bewilderment. “Ah, yes. The city. Of course. Once you have so graciously shown me to my quarters, I would not be averse to discovering this city with you. You have only to call upon me at your leisure.”
Ever observant, it wasn't difficult to catch the slightest change in his eyes as she spoke of one's actions shaping them. There was more to this man, something lurking under the surface of his handsome features and well-learned manners. Though, she supposed there was always more to someone than met the eye. Everyone possessed pages of their own story, and the one belonging to Charles Brandon certainly piqued her curiosity.
Knowledge was one of the most coveted things in the Seven Kingdoms, and she had a hard time believing it didn’t hold the same status in every realm. It was, after all, a form of power and could be weaponized just as easily as it could be used for good- bring kings to their knees and raise even the lowest class of citizens to heights they never fathomed. Not that Margaery viewed anyone below her station beneath her in any way. In her eyes, everyone was equal. Just because she had been afforded a better lot in life did not make her a better person than the man begging for a scrap of food in the streets.
It made her luckier and luck was a fickle master.
Looking upon his endearing expression as the elevator began to move, she couldn’t help the sincere smile that tugged at her lips. “No apologies needed, but it is quite a wonder isn’t it,” she asked- her free hand moving over the nearby wall. “This entire realm is filled with such things. I admit it is a bit intimidating trying to acclimate to foreign accommodations, but it is all delightful as well.”
“It pleases me that you would indulge my adventurous spirit. Perhaps as we discover it together you will indulge me further with tales of your home?” At that, the elevator was making its dinging sound once more, as the doors opened to the proper floor of the overwhelmingly tall building.
Given that she was also displaced here, the expression he bore must have been familiar. Who could accept these advances in technology so readily? Perhaps those who lived here, those already accustomed to the trappings of their society. They were the fortunate ones. Charles was in for a very severe learning curve.
“Delightful?” He questioned, brow arching again. “You’ve a most optimistic way of viewing the world, my Lady.” Perhaps it was due to his older age that he saw the darkness in every crevice, every shadow a potential threat.
And… perhaps he was also headed for a breakdown once left to his own devices.
“I never shy away from an opportunity to please a lady,” he said, opting to ignore the unwanted heavier thoughts. His womanizing days were truly behind him, but what harm was there in playing? At the very least it could take his mind off of the current confounding reality.
A bit more prepared for the doors opening this time, he extended an arm out to allow her passage first. “My Lady, it would be my honour to share a story or two with you, provided you would do me the same.”
Margaery wasn’t afforded much time to grow accustomed to this world before they were all thrust into a setting she came to know as ‘summer camp’. It was certainly an interesting experience, and not unlike her time spent with Renly Baratheon, but as soon as they returned? She made it her mission to familiarize herself with her new ‘home’. She still wasn’t very adept at using the phone device and found herself baffled by a great deal but just like with everything else in her life? The former queen was very good at pretending otherwise.
“I am not free of pessimism. One can not live a life as I have and be completely void of cynical thoughts.” Yet, as she spoke her smile never waivered. “I suppose I am grateful that this Entity generously saw fit to provide a new life for me here.” Despite all of that gratitude, she’d still experienced a breakdown of her own once she was behind the closed door of her quarters. It was cathartic in a way, dispelling all of that anguish over everything she lost- the majority of it revolving around her brother and the fall of her House.
Not to mention the last few moments before her death.
“And have these ladies appreciated your pleasing efforts, my lord,” she teased with a bit of a smirk. Margaery was discovering that she was thoroughly enjoying this exchange with him. It was nice to fall into this sort of playful banter that she hadn’t engaged in with anyone for quite some time.
Offering him a nod of her head in appreciation, she slipped by him into the long hallway of apartments, threading her arm with his once more when he was by her side again. “I believe that could be arranged.”
How had she lived her life, he wondered, to have garnered that level of wisdom? The Lady Margaery somehow naturally exuded strength and grace. Much remained hidden beneath the surface, though he didn’t deem it unsettling. If anything, the stories written behind her easy smile instilled further curiosity.
Perhaps a time for that would indeed come.
“A new life,” he mused aloud, glancing from her to the path outstretched before them. The calm he found in her expression fell with a twinge of anxiety. Charles had never enjoyed solitude, not unless he was wrestling with his own thoughts. Those moments had become far more frequent, certainly, but occasionally at least he had his son to distract him with a game or two. Despite the cold shoulder he received from his wife, he had kept true to his promise to her and only prayed she would accept him again.
What was he to do here without her, his boy, or even his king?
“The trick is not to stick around to listen for any complaints,” he spoke, leaning into her for good measure. The distraction she provided from his concerns was definitely preferable. He’d take advantage of her presence as long as she tolerated him.
Falling back into step with her, arm and arm, he looked back over his shoulder as the elevator mysteriously closed of its own accord. “So, I must remember this level and my room… number for as long as I am trapped here? I might be calling upon you for more than company, but also for recollection.”
“One that I do not intend to waste,” she responded with a hint of determination lacing her words. Unlike Sansa, Margaery did not have a life to go home to. So, perhaps that was why she was able to slip into this world with ease, aside from the modern accommodations.
At his next words, a laugh expelled from her lips- filling the hallway around them. “A wise move on your part. Though, I feel I would find a situation where you were forced to suffer the complaints of a lady quite humorous.” She spoke in jest, made apparent by the way she nudged him with her shoulder, but there was some truth there too. She would indeed find humor in such a situation.
Upon leaving her quarters, Margaery didn’t anticipate meeting someone she would find herself wanting to spend more time with, and yet here she was.
“It is fortunate that I stumbled across you then isn’t it?” She was sure he would have found his way eventually or that someone else would have been so kind to aid him, but this was definitely a preferable outcome. “And you may call on me any time you wish.”
Leading him down the remainder of the hallway, she stopped just shy of the door marked ‘1-E’. “Here we are, my lord.”
That was a topic he’d bring up later, curious to know the path her life may have taken her back in her realm. That concept alone still baffled him, but he would adjust in time. First, he needed a moment to sit in the dark and contemplate this brand new reality. Then, perhaps he ought to find a church. Charles was a man of faith, not always a good one, but always made the effort for prayer when times were dire.
This seemed like as good of a time as any.
Her teasing was in warm receipt of a grin. “Indeed, it would be a good bout of mirth even for me.” When it came to matters of the bedroom, he had always been brazen, bold, and even foolish. Nevertheless, Charles prided himself on his prowess, and lamented the absence of utilizing it with his beautiful wife that continued to reject him.
For good reason, but rejection still hurt.
“A fortune for me, certainly,” he agreed, humor shifting back to an appreciative smile. Without her assistance, Charles doubted he would have even made it into the elevator before the sun fell. “Do keep me abreast of your stance on that after our next assured meeting, my Lady.”
Once they reached the door in question, he freed himself from her helpful grasp and turned to offer a courteous bow in respect of her efforts. As anxious as he was to have a moment to himself, the more he spoke to Margaery, the more curious he grew. He could wait until their next meeting, however, he reminded himself. No need to be hasty.
“You have my utmost gratitude once more, Lady Margaery. Long it has been since a woman put her reputation at risk to escort me somewhere,” he finished with a bemused grin. “Be well and… I look forward to the next time our paths cross.”
What: Charles' arrival
When: August 30th
Where: The Villa
Warnings: Naaaah
Status: Completed via GDOCS
It was invariably a shock to the system. Charles had been hazed in kinder ways than the sudden sprawling metropolis laid out before him. In his hand, he clutched the Entity’s uncomfortable note meant for quite the opposite and tried to remain calm. As a soldier, it was a skill he possessed in spades, but somehow seemed to struggle to remember it. The noises were nearly overwhelming, the ambient chatter fast-paced, and the smells…
Well, better than half of what he got a whiff of outside the palace walls.
Grimly, he made his way to the villa in the hopes that he would find a familiar face. Given the absurdity of the circumstances, he doubted there existed other amenable options. Go to the villa or stay outside under the looming metal structures while people shot him curious looks. Their clothes struck him as odd as his no doubt struck them.
It was an easy enough task, locating the villa. A group of giggling girls managed to direct him accordingly, much to his own internalized embarrassment, and he thanked them politely for their assistance. Their accents baffled him, his head shaking in confusion as he finally found the villa and wandered through its doors.
Now, he was truly at a loss.
“Where to now?” He muttered grudgingly under his breath.
Margaery’s adaptability was her greatest asset, but she was uncertain she would ever become accustomed to this strange realm. Sure, there were little pleasures to be found. The food and the delectable sweets were amongst the greatest experiences of her life. The lights without torches, the water that could be at your fingertips with the twist of a mechanism, the cool air that filled the rooms with a press of a button on the intimidating thing that hung on the wall, the loud modes of transportation, the fashions? All of those things were a conundrum.
Mingling with people hadn’t ever been a problem, though. It was what she was meant for, shaped by the finest hands in the Seven Kingdoms to be the Queen of the people’s hearts. While she internally detested it quite often? No one would ever know. Margaery was very good at playing the game.
As she entered the lobby of the villa, on her way out to explore her new home further now that the scenery was back to ‘normal’, she paused when she caught sight of the very out of sorts looking man adorned in clothing that she was more familiar with.
It did not take long to figure out that he was new, the letter in his hand a dead giveaway, and Margaery allowed that gentle smile to tug at the corner of her lips as she approached him. “Are you lost, my lord?”
Peering down at the note, the added presence of a woman went (shockingly) overlooked for a moment. This didn’t look like any particular villa he had ever seen before, though his experience was strictly with the French by and large. The bigger question weighing on his mind, other than where he needed to go next, was: what the hell was an ostrich?
Shaking his head, he went to crumple the slip of paper when he heard an oddly familiar voice. Familiar, yet somehow not the same either. Quirking a brow, he shifted to glimpse the woman in question and his eyes slowly began to widen. “Lady Anne?” He questioned, backing up a step as though he had seen a ghost.
That had been happening quite a lot to him of late. Why her? Was his guilt over her death so great that he would also be haunted by the former Queen of England? He had not wished for her death, the punishment had not fit her crime (nor did he believe she was guilty of the vast majority of her charges), but what King Henry commanded was sovereign.
Still, he had seen her head fly from her shoulders. Mouth agape he stared at her, confounded until another detail seemed to strike him as odd. Her hair color, how had she changed it? Squinting, he took a curious step forward.
“Perhaps I have found my rightful way to hell, my lady… I beg your pardon,” he offered an apologetic bow. “Yes… I am rather lost.”
Margaery continued to watch him curiously, her own brow arching at the question of her name. “I fear you are mistaken. I am Margaery Tyrell of High Garden, but I have learned since arriving that not many are familiar with my realm.”
It was proving to be a quite difficult task to remember not to refer to herself as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Upon her death, that title ceased to belong to her, but nobody- not even herself as she played the High Sparrow’s game in order to save her brother- could take the moniker of High Garden’s rose from her.
Smile firmly in place, despite his shocked expression, she offered him a proper curtsy at his bow. “I do not believe this is hell, my lord but I can understand why one might think that. Being brought here out of one's element can be rather jarring.” Boldly reaching for the letter he crumpled in his hand, she smoothed out the edges and looked over the words. “I can help you find where you are meant to stay if you like?”
Either Anne had learned some genuine witchcraft or this woman simply bore the most striking resemblance to her that he had ever seen. As Charles did not believe in the former, he had to accept the latter. What would the King think if he were here? What would he do to this strange woman from a realm he had not heard of? For her sake, and even a tiny part of his own, he prayed Henry would not show his face.
“I am not, though there are no doubt a great deal of realms in the world and it would be foolish to lay claim to bearing knowledge of them all.”
Regardless of where she was from, she had come from a cultured upbringing and he could afford this… Margaery… credit for that. What truly caught him off guard was the bold way in which she swiped the Entity’s only greeting and offered him assistance. A woman of her stature, offering him help to his quarters alone? He looked almost appalled.
“Madam, while I’m grateful for the offer… Is it customary for a woman to accompany a man alone in this manner? I’d fear for your reputation.”
“I think you will find this realm to be unlike any other.” That was a bit of an understatement, but she figured it was best not to overwhelm him any further- especially since her presence alone seemed to be doing just that. She was intrigued over this ‘Anne’ that he had mistaken her for, but she would tuck that question away for another day. For now, aiding him in gathering his bearings would take precedence.
But then, he was speaking of her reputation and Margaery had to stifle a laugh. How were women viewed where he was from if the simple notion of accompanying a man alone would spell out ruination for them? Thinking of how her grandmother would most surely respond to such a statement only served to amuse her further.
“Are women void of any independence where you are from? Bound to the opinions of men and their statuses shaped by them? An act of kindness frowned upon simply because they were not born carrying a sword?”
She allowed the implications of her cleverly worded innuendo hang in the air as she finished, looking upon him very pointedly.
Thus far, that had proved already to be an understatement. He seemed almost amused at the comment, then gave a knowing glance about their surroundings. That much was obvious to him. The machinations alone had nearly brought him to his knees, but that would have been tremendously unbecoming of the Duke of Suffolk.
Further commentary was halted when he took notice of that restrained laugh. He opened his mouth to make a remark, but she stunned him again with the ensuing words. What sort of realm was she from that a woman could speak so boldly? Henry had spoken of Queen Jane’s mouth, which had quietly impressed Charles, but he didn’t know this woman or her realm’s traditions. He was positively floored.
“Well…” He nearly stammered, hand falling to where the hilt of his sword would have been had he been stolen in his armor. Weapons were not permitted within the palace walls, however, and so he was unarmed. Unsure of whether her words warranted a slap that he would absolutely never give a woman, or a hearty laugh in return, Charles remained simply dumbfounded for a moment.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” he conceded, never having given that much thought. Women were bound to men and that simply was that. “You certainly do not speak like the ladies of my realm…” Added Charles, head shaking in disbelief. “Though, I’ve a feeling that is not such a bad thing.”
Mouthy women were a bit of a weakness for him.
At his stammering and obvious signs that she had taken him aback, Margaery internally congratulated herself on a job well done. If she were still in King’s Landing she may have slipped on a different mask to play along with his customs, but the former queen was done altering herself to fit into whatever role appeased those around her.
Watching his hand fall, she remained silent as he attempted to work through his thoughts to form a response. This was turning out to be a far more entertaining outing than she anticipated. It wasn’t every day she got to experience the pleasure of watching a handsome noble fumble beneath her words.
“And what would your domineering men do if the roles were reversed,” she asked as she meticulously folded his letter in her hands- her questioning eyes never leaving his. “Would they willingly bend beneath a woman’s judgment? Accept the title of ‘whore’ for offering an escort? Something tells me they wouldn’t be so inclined to adhere to the same fate.”
Smiling then, she offered the precisely folded letter back to him. “I assure you the ladies of your realm have all had similar thoughts without giving them voice.”
“‘Bad’ is a matter of opinion, my lord. Now, am I to know your name, or do you intend on continuing to stare at me like I have sprouted an extra head?”
The lip on this one was incomparable. If it weren’t for these incredibly displaced circumstances, he might very well have had something to say in return that was terribly untoward. Instead, Charles took it calmly, almost amused, and even gave her perspective some consideration. That wasn’t the way they did things in King Henry’s England, but they weren’t in his England.
He wasn’t even sure they were in the right time period, but he didn’t dare reflect further on that insanity.
“I cannot speak for all men, but if I had to submit to the rule of a woman… Would that it were a kingdom run by one such as yourself, my lady.” Another gracious bow was given at that, certainly not about to dispute the statement. Regardless of whether he agreed, Charles was never one to disrespect a lady of high standing.
“No doubt they have,” he agreed, accepting the paper. “None so brave as you to give it voice, I’m afraid.”
Had he gone and neglected to introduce himself? Offering her a legitimately apologetic look, he pressed his fist to his shoulder for a proper one. “Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, Commander of the Royal Army, at your service, my lady.”
A kingdom run by one such as yourself.
At those words, she could almost still feel the weight of her crown upon her head. All she ever wanted was to be queen, but in the end she discovered that those jewels meant very little when there were snakes in your garden. Cersei may have gotten the last laugh, but not before Margaery inflicted irreparable damage. She made several mistakes that ultimately led to her demise, but given the chance? She would always make the same choices when it came to protecting her family.
Pushing those thoughts back into the darkest corners of her mind, she continued to offer him that saccharine smile. Margaery was unsure if he was being sincere or merely placating her. It was probably the latter. A man such as this, accustomed to women being subservient, would require a whole lot more than a few clever words to completely alter his way of thinking. Still, she bowed her head in return.
It was more fun to play a long game, after all.
“Of course, not. Fear is a powerful adversary. Why would they ever voice such things when they have been conditioned to expect repercussions?”
“What an impressive list of titles, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk.” Moving to his side, she slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow. Whether she was truly impressed or not, was for her alone to know. “Shall we then? Or are you still fearing for my reputation?”
The boldness of her reminded him vaguely of Lady Anne, but somehow it felt less duplicitous. He doubted she was entertaining Charles wholly out of the goodness of her heart, but he also doubted she wanted anything else out of their encounter. So, it left him at a bit of a disadvantage not knowing quite where on that scale she swung.
“They are merely titles,” he said humbly, proud but modest. He had done little to warrant every last one of them. Had he not been the king’s best mate, the chances afforded him would never have come his way. Learning to appreciate all that was given to him by Henry and the costs that came with it had been one of the most difficult lessons.
Startled again by her forward nature, he glanced down at their linked arms and nearly attempted to question her intentions. He was a married man, one-sided as it were, but married; he was also not in England. Graciously bowing his head, he gestured to the expansive (and no doubt confusing) path before them.
“If you possess no fear, my Lady, neither shall I,” he said reassuringly. “Please, lead the way and ponder how I may, in fact, repay your kindness.”
“Titles can be empty words, it is what you do behind them that matters. Your actions provide the weight, be it good or bad,” she replied earnestly at his display of modesty. Margaery knew the truth behind that statement better than anyone, having been briefly married to possibly the most vile creature to ever possess the title of ‘king’.
Boldness ran rampant through her veins. Even as a child she never knew any other way to behave. It always seemed like such a waste of time to cloak herself in falsities, unless of course she was slipping into a beneficial role. Those instances were largely driven by her ambition, and the only time she deemed a farce worthwhile.
Smiling again as he gestured about the lobby of the villa, she gently tugged on his arm to follow her over to the contraption that she had come to know as an ‘elevator’. “I am never afraid, my lord,” she said as she looked at the buttons on the wall and pressed the one she remembered would take them upward to his assigned quarters. “I do not require repayment, but if you insist I am sure I will think of something.”
Then with a ding the elevator doors were opening and she was leading him inside the miraculous lift. “Perhaps I shall call upon you to escort me about the city? I haven’t properly explored this realm and would like to become better acquainted with it.”
The weight of her words wasn’t lost on him. Almost faltering, an immediate reflection of the faces of slain children flashed before his eyes before her words seemed to disperse them. What did his actions say about him other than that he was first and foremost loyal to the king? Did that make him a good man? Even now, Charles doubted it still.
Lady Anne might have had more caustic things to say, words that would echo the darkest parts of his self-deprecating thoughts. From her, Charles knew he would deserve them; however, he had not thought of the fallen queen for years now. Easily attributing it to meeting this woman who bore a striking resemblance to her did little to quell the unease in his heart. Perhaps this Lady Margaery would be better off not seeking him out for repayment.
She was more than brave or bold, he suspected. There was an innate fearlessness to her that could be deemed magnetic. Despite the maelstrom in his heart, she brought him a measure of relief. They came from different realms, perhaps even times, and this strange world thrust upon them did not seem to faze her. She would make a fine queen, though he wondered if that were even in the cards from whence she came.
The elevator nearly took him by surprise all over again. She moved so effortlessly, not at all bothered by the curious sound or look of it. He hesitated a moment, only coaxed on by her progress, and he looked about in absolute wonder when the machination began to move with the press of a number.
“Apologies, my Lady,” he said, glancing back to her in bewilderment. “Ah, yes. The city. Of course. Once you have so graciously shown me to my quarters, I would not be averse to discovering this city with you. You have only to call upon me at your leisure.”
Ever observant, it wasn't difficult to catch the slightest change in his eyes as she spoke of one's actions shaping them. There was more to this man, something lurking under the surface of his handsome features and well-learned manners. Though, she supposed there was always more to someone than met the eye. Everyone possessed pages of their own story, and the one belonging to Charles Brandon certainly piqued her curiosity.
Knowledge was one of the most coveted things in the Seven Kingdoms, and she had a hard time believing it didn’t hold the same status in every realm. It was, after all, a form of power and could be weaponized just as easily as it could be used for good- bring kings to their knees and raise even the lowest class of citizens to heights they never fathomed. Not that Margaery viewed anyone below her station beneath her in any way. In her eyes, everyone was equal. Just because she had been afforded a better lot in life did not make her a better person than the man begging for a scrap of food in the streets.
It made her luckier and luck was a fickle master.
Looking upon his endearing expression as the elevator began to move, she couldn’t help the sincere smile that tugged at her lips. “No apologies needed, but it is quite a wonder isn’t it,” she asked- her free hand moving over the nearby wall. “This entire realm is filled with such things. I admit it is a bit intimidating trying to acclimate to foreign accommodations, but it is all delightful as well.”
“It pleases me that you would indulge my adventurous spirit. Perhaps as we discover it together you will indulge me further with tales of your home?” At that, the elevator was making its dinging sound once more, as the doors opened to the proper floor of the overwhelmingly tall building.
Given that she was also displaced here, the expression he bore must have been familiar. Who could accept these advances in technology so readily? Perhaps those who lived here, those already accustomed to the trappings of their society. They were the fortunate ones. Charles was in for a very severe learning curve.
“Delightful?” He questioned, brow arching again. “You’ve a most optimistic way of viewing the world, my Lady.” Perhaps it was due to his older age that he saw the darkness in every crevice, every shadow a potential threat.
And… perhaps he was also headed for a breakdown once left to his own devices.
“I never shy away from an opportunity to please a lady,” he said, opting to ignore the unwanted heavier thoughts. His womanizing days were truly behind him, but what harm was there in playing? At the very least it could take his mind off of the current confounding reality.
A bit more prepared for the doors opening this time, he extended an arm out to allow her passage first. “My Lady, it would be my honour to share a story or two with you, provided you would do me the same.”
Margaery wasn’t afforded much time to grow accustomed to this world before they were all thrust into a setting she came to know as ‘summer camp’. It was certainly an interesting experience, and not unlike her time spent with Renly Baratheon, but as soon as they returned? She made it her mission to familiarize herself with her new ‘home’. She still wasn’t very adept at using the phone device and found herself baffled by a great deal but just like with everything else in her life? The former queen was very good at pretending otherwise.
“I am not free of pessimism. One can not live a life as I have and be completely void of cynical thoughts.” Yet, as she spoke her smile never waivered. “I suppose I am grateful that this Entity generously saw fit to provide a new life for me here.” Despite all of that gratitude, she’d still experienced a breakdown of her own once she was behind the closed door of her quarters. It was cathartic in a way, dispelling all of that anguish over everything she lost- the majority of it revolving around her brother and the fall of her House.
Not to mention the last few moments before her death.
“And have these ladies appreciated your pleasing efforts, my lord,” she teased with a bit of a smirk. Margaery was discovering that she was thoroughly enjoying this exchange with him. It was nice to fall into this sort of playful banter that she hadn’t engaged in with anyone for quite some time.
Offering him a nod of her head in appreciation, she slipped by him into the long hallway of apartments, threading her arm with his once more when he was by her side again. “I believe that could be arranged.”
How had she lived her life, he wondered, to have garnered that level of wisdom? The Lady Margaery somehow naturally exuded strength and grace. Much remained hidden beneath the surface, though he didn’t deem it unsettling. If anything, the stories written behind her easy smile instilled further curiosity.
Perhaps a time for that would indeed come.
“A new life,” he mused aloud, glancing from her to the path outstretched before them. The calm he found in her expression fell with a twinge of anxiety. Charles had never enjoyed solitude, not unless he was wrestling with his own thoughts. Those moments had become far more frequent, certainly, but occasionally at least he had his son to distract him with a game or two. Despite the cold shoulder he received from his wife, he had kept true to his promise to her and only prayed she would accept him again.
What was he to do here without her, his boy, or even his king?
“The trick is not to stick around to listen for any complaints,” he spoke, leaning into her for good measure. The distraction she provided from his concerns was definitely preferable. He’d take advantage of her presence as long as she tolerated him.
Falling back into step with her, arm and arm, he looked back over his shoulder as the elevator mysteriously closed of its own accord. “So, I must remember this level and my room… number for as long as I am trapped here? I might be calling upon you for more than company, but also for recollection.”
“One that I do not intend to waste,” she responded with a hint of determination lacing her words. Unlike Sansa, Margaery did not have a life to go home to. So, perhaps that was why she was able to slip into this world with ease, aside from the modern accommodations.
At his next words, a laugh expelled from her lips- filling the hallway around them. “A wise move on your part. Though, I feel I would find a situation where you were forced to suffer the complaints of a lady quite humorous.” She spoke in jest, made apparent by the way she nudged him with her shoulder, but there was some truth there too. She would indeed find humor in such a situation.
Upon leaving her quarters, Margaery didn’t anticipate meeting someone she would find herself wanting to spend more time with, and yet here she was.
“It is fortunate that I stumbled across you then isn’t it?” She was sure he would have found his way eventually or that someone else would have been so kind to aid him, but this was definitely a preferable outcome. “And you may call on me any time you wish.”
Leading him down the remainder of the hallway, she stopped just shy of the door marked ‘1-E’. “Here we are, my lord.”
That was a topic he’d bring up later, curious to know the path her life may have taken her back in her realm. That concept alone still baffled him, but he would adjust in time. First, he needed a moment to sit in the dark and contemplate this brand new reality. Then, perhaps he ought to find a church. Charles was a man of faith, not always a good one, but always made the effort for prayer when times were dire.
This seemed like as good of a time as any.
Her teasing was in warm receipt of a grin. “Indeed, it would be a good bout of mirth even for me.” When it came to matters of the bedroom, he had always been brazen, bold, and even foolish. Nevertheless, Charles prided himself on his prowess, and lamented the absence of utilizing it with his beautiful wife that continued to reject him.
For good reason, but rejection still hurt.
“A fortune for me, certainly,” he agreed, humor shifting back to an appreciative smile. Without her assistance, Charles doubted he would have even made it into the elevator before the sun fell. “Do keep me abreast of your stance on that after our next assured meeting, my Lady.”
Once they reached the door in question, he freed himself from her helpful grasp and turned to offer a courteous bow in respect of her efforts. As anxious as he was to have a moment to himself, the more he spoke to Margaery, the more curious he grew. He could wait until their next meeting, however, he reminded himself. No need to be hasty.
“You have my utmost gratitude once more, Lady Margaery. Long it has been since a woman put her reputation at risk to escort me somewhere,” he finished with a bemused grin. “Be well and… I look forward to the next time our paths cross.”