[Chapter Size: 3300 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 298 AC.

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The conversations were not limited to the Lannister family.

Other manipulators of the game of thrones were also discussing, throughout the seven kingdoms, at that very moment, what had happened in Winterfell.

In Highgarden, Margaery Tyrell was having tea on one of the highest balconies of the castle, nervously waiting for her grandmother to arrive.

She had received Willas’s letter speaking of an incident before they left Winterfell, and he ended up telling her as well about the terrible things that had happened to the queen and to her brother. The crown prince had also been injured, his arm cut, but, as it was a duel against Arya Stark, it became a great humiliation.

Margaery could not help but compare herself to Arya Stark. She could not help but frown as she felt somehow inferior to the girl, even after having spent her whole life learning how to behave in order to become the future queen of Westeros. She had heard so many things about Arya that she even began to doubt the lessons she had learned, in that moment.

Margaery was proud of her beauty and kindness. Everyone throughout the Reach described her that way. But Arya also had beauty. They said she was more beautiful than the queen — that the queen had been overshadowed by the She-Wolf.

Perhaps she wasn’t as gentle as Margaery, but Arya was fierce and fair, according to the rumors — and according to what her own brother had described seeing personally. Moreover, she knew how to fight, to advise, to command men, and to defeat them in the training yard — a girl fighting grown men and winning; who would believe such a thing?

Arya was a woman — no, she was merely a girl — and younger than Margaery.

What was it in those wild lands north of the Wall that had made her that way, that had turned her into the girl everyone spoke of lately? Not just her. All who came from that kingdom were remarkable people.

The royal knights of Arctic, as well as their guards, were better and more skilled than most in Westeros. Princess Arya and Queen Seryna dressed better than the ladies of the Seven Kingdoms. They knew how to behave and, besides that, their beauty overshadowed most of the ladies — even Margaery herself was spoken of as inferior to the queen of Arctic by the lords and ladies of the Reach during that visit.

However, that was before they received the news of the attack on Oldtown — everyone became enraged at that moment. They immediately began shouting for the country to prepare, to gather the ships and summon all the vassals. They said the wildlings had shown their true face — different from what they had displayed in Highgarden.

Margaery was with her brother Loras, while he too raged, shouting along with all the other lords, filling the main hall with insults against the Arcticans and regrets for not having put them in their place when they had the chance.

Her grandmother, on the other hand, said that they were dangerous and that they should be careful. For, just as they had taken Oldtown, the Reach would not have time to gather all its troops when the king ordered them to lay siege to Highgarden, and all those ships at sea would come for the Tyrells’ seat in fury.

Things would not be easy if they used those weapons — even if they could take the king, the queen, and the others as hostages, they would see most of the nobles killed in the first moments.

Her grandmother said they were a bunch of angry fools. But she let the men shout as they pleased, thinking they were in control, thinking they were clever.

Margaery said, at the time, that she did not believe Jon Arctic and the others had carried out a massacre in the Citadel so easily. Even after the incident with Jaime Lannister being captured and held as a hostage, it made little sense to launch an attack without any warning. They did not seem to act that way.

Her grandmother said that people could change, but she also agreed with Margaery on that point — it made no sense for Jon Arctic to kill several maesters and septons unless he had a good reason.

Even more so when he had simply taken control of an entire city, seized the Citadel, and captured Lord Hightower’s brother. No one knew for certain what had happened to him to this day. Only Willas had discovered something, but he would speak of it in person.

When they discovered that Jon was leaving Lannisport after destroying a group of Lannister ships — and with them, the Mountain had been tortured — the Redwyne fleet, according to their own lord, shouted that they would stop the Arcticans.

However, when the news arrived, the man who had been arrogant and confident enough that his men would stop the Arcticans simply fell to the ground in shock. The ships — more than a hundred of them — had been destroyed; his entire fleet was gone, and many men who survived, many of them, were captured.

That paled most of the nobles, while her grandmother became enraged for having lost one of the most powerful forces of the Reach.

But no one had the arrogance they once did. Uncertainty spread through all of Highgarden after what happened to the Redwynes. And after that, the Arcticans returned south, and there was no longer any way to reach them, with them returning home by the other route.

And all of it revolved around a single person: Jon Arctic — who never left Margaery’s mind.

Her grandmother even admitted that he was the most handsome man she had ever seen in her entire life, and Margaery could not disagree. When she danced with him in the halls of Highgarden, his bright emerald eyes captivated her like no other. For a moment, she wished he were the crown prince of Westeros, that he had no wife, and that he were simply waiting for her — to make her his queen and rule the Seven Kingdoms together.

Obviously, she could not sustain such a fantasy. After all, he was from a different kingdom — a kingdom that she and even her grandmother had underestimated. But still, that night, Margaery had been willing to give herself to him. She knew she would have given him her virginity if he had taken her to his chamber, and he could have done so with only a few words whispered in her ear.

Of course, that did not happen. Jon was with his pregnant wife, and he seemed the kind of honorable man who would not dishonor his woman — even though, at the time, he had two wives.

When he won the tournament and the wager with Renly Baratheon, Margaery had wished to be chosen as the queen of beauty and love. But he chose her little sister — only to mock her, obviously. Had he not chosen Arya, he would have chosen the mother of his child.

After the fall of Oldtown, they said he had won the jousting tournament because he cheated — that he had used witchcraft to enchant the animals, just as there were rumors that he had single-handedly defeated Jaime Lannister’s entire group before capturing him.

And after what happened to the city, the rumors grew even stronger. They said Jon controlled dogs, cats, and birds, summoning them against his enemies with an ancient and vile magic against the Seven — a magic only he knew.

After he defeated the Royal Fleet in the east, it didn’t take long for new reports to arrive — all centered around him. They said he had negotiated with the Iron Bank, dealt with each of the major Free Cities just as he had with the Reach and Dorne, faced an attack in Volantis, entered Valyria and emerged from there even richer. He had crossed the world to Yi Ti, entered the war in the East, and led the Empire of Yi Ti to victory. He brought their princess back with him to make her another of his wives.

They said he had more than three wives, with rumors about other women — one being Doran Martell’s bastard daughter, whom Jon Arctic had risked himself to abduct, and there were also whispers of a girl with platinum-blonde hair, but no one could say which rumors were true.

The news from Yi Ti would never have even reached Westeros if not for the fact that Jon Arctic was involved — and many people wanted to hear about him.

Margaery was also surprised to learn about the attack on Slaver’s Bay and, later, about the conquest in the Dothraki desert.

They could say he used magic to achieve his victories, but they could not deny that Jon Arctic had become the most powerful swordsman in the world — someone who could lead people and beings that no one else could. Some said he was blessed by the gods of the North…

Margaery could not help but envy him. While her grandmother and her family wanted her to become queen of Westeros by marrying the crown prince — the same prince who couldn’t even defeat Arya Stark in a sparring match in Winterfell’s courtyard. Could her future husband truly command an army, fight for her honor?

The ideal man she had always dreamed of was beyond the Wall — a brave and powerful man who led armies to victory, one after another, and who had never known defeat. He could be cruel at times, perhaps even use sorcery to control animals, but there was no denying his achievements.

Margaery secretly wished that Jon Arctic were the king of Westeros — and that he had no queen, so she could marry him and rule together with him. Obviously, she had a passion for him, more than she wanted to admit. It was a distant, impossible passion. While she was confined to that corner of Westeros, Jon was already a father, with children and heirs, in a place beyond anyone’s reach.

Even the sixteen thousand men who had been sent beyond the Wall against Arctic had been killed without the king himself being present, further reinforcing the threat Arctic represented to the Seven Kingdoms.

Margaery couldn’t help but wonder: if Arctic wanted to conquer Westeros, what good would it do for her to try to be queen beside the crown prince? Wouldn’t she lose the throne later anyway? She wondered if her grandmother thought the same.

And, speaking of her, it was at that moment that the door opened. The Tyrell matriarch approached, with two guards helping her walk.

“Well… now you may close the door and bring me some tea. Leave us alone,” she said.

The servants and guards obeyed, closing the door as the old woman approached the balcony of that empty chamber.

“Oh, my sweet Margaery… your cheeks are flushed. Probably thinking about that passion of yours beyond the Wall, am I wrong?” she asked.

Margaery immediately looked away. “I was only thinking about the letters my brother sent me,” she said.

But the old woman didn’t seem convinced. “You know that, no matter how incredible and handsome that man may be, he won’t make you a queen. Or do you want to become just another of his four or five women? Who knows… He gathers wives as he gathers swords, from what I see,” said Olenna, referring to the rumors that Jon Arctic used to wield different swords from time to time — like the Dark Sister before giving it to Arya Stark. They also said he used twin Valyrian steel blades in Essos and later in Yi Ti, and then a rather peculiar sword in the desert, which some believed to be the legendary Blackfyre itself, along with an armor made of Valyrian steel.

“I know, grandma… Still, that Jon Arctic never ceases to surprise me…” said Margaery, making her grandmother give a small smile.

“I was young once too; I dreamed of handsome men riding in, coming to take me away and lead me to some fanciful happiness. But you shouldn’t think too much about that, Margaery. You were trained to become a queen, so I ask that you not aim to be just another woman in the bed of a single man who already keeps a harem…” said Olenna, her gaze firm — and Margaery couldn’t help but lower hers.

The old woman merely sighed. “But I can say that I would have even allowed you to lose your virginity to him when he was here in this castle,” she added, making Margaery stare at her in horror.

“You think I don’t know about that night, all those years ago?” Olenna continued in a tone that suggested she was stating the obvious.

“I… I wasn’t going to…” Margaery tried to reply, stammering.

“You would have thrown yourself at him without a second thought, don’t lie, my Margaery. But that man had a pregnant wife. It doesn’t take much honor to see how indecent that would have been on his part. In any case, it didn’t happen, because not even your beauty made him lose his reason — and it won’t happen again. Now, you must focus on pleasing the crown prince and securing the crown,” Olenna declared.

“But if Arctic wants to attack Westeros, grandma… do you think we’d stand a chance? Even if I were queen? I could be executed, and even you…” murmured Margaery, as Olenna snorted.

“I don’t think it will be that simple, Margaery. Jon Arctic doesn’t seem to have any interest in Westeros — yet. Despite that, the North is more determined to support Arctic than to support the king. Lord Stark has even canceled the betrothal. Perhaps that’s an opportunity for us… but I can’t help being concerned, honestly,” she admitted at last.

Margaery said nothing, only looked at her grandmother, waiting for her to finish her reasoning. Olenna was always wiser, even in the worst of times. Even now, when she seemed to contradict herself…

“I don’t know what will happen in the future,” the old woman continued, “but we won’t waste this chance. We’ll provide as much support and resources as possible against the North and against Arctic. They can’t fight us the same way they fought pirates, Dothraki, or slavers. We’re much better than that. And the foundation of a war is not something so simple that just five thousand giants can decide it,” said Olenna, making Margaery frown and sigh.

“Do you think it’s worth the risk, grandma?” Margaery asked cautiously.

“It’s our chance. First, we win the crown. Then, we’ll see how to deal with Arctic if he wishes to expand. Besides, Willas has done an excellent job trying to mend House Tyrell’s relations with Arctic… I hope that will save us in the future,” Olenna replied with conviction, while Margaery only nodded in silence.

“Do you know what happened in Winterfell, grandma?” Margaery asked at last, as Olenna sighed.

“A great mess, my granddaughter… a great mess. It only fuels the flames of a possible war. However, the Arcticans seem to be more concerned with this war in the North. This is our chance to move forward with our plans. The Lannisters will probably be desperate to get a hostage — and Sansa may still be a good target, as Willas described her as rather fanciful. It could be that the lions will want at all costs a hostage from House Stark now that they’ve left Winterfell. But we must be quicker. That’s why we’ll be heading to King’s Landing soon,” said Olenna, making Margaery widen her eyes.

“We’re going to the capital?” she asked.

“Yes. We’re going to offer our condolences for the queen’s condition. They say she’s lost all her beauty… and has become something of a monster. Poor thing,” said Olenna with an ironic smile. Margaery could feel the mocking tone; there wasn’t a hint of pity in her grandmother’s voice.

Then a servant entered the room, set down the tea for them, while the two remained silent even when alone.

“You must understand something, Margaery,” Olenna continued, turning toward her and pulling her out of her thoughts. “When lions roar too loudly in pride, they lift their heads too high — and sometimes can’t see what’s right in front of them, even if it’s a predator far more dangerous.”

“But… what about my brother? He didn’t manage to secure the betrothal with Arya Stark,” said Margaery, as Olenna let out a small laugh.

“True. But I always thought that would be difficult, considering what we know about that place. That girl is quite taken with Arctic or someone there… I highly doubt we could ever take her away to live here in Westeros,” Olenna replied.

“You know, I had some hope that Lord Stark would accept a marriage between Sansa and Willas. Even Arya herself had suggested such a thing to her father, but he preferred to keep his daughter in the North,” she added.

“I see…” murmured Margaery. “I just hope Willas and Garlan have a safe journey here.”

“Well, they’re on the other side of Westeros now, sailing. They must be elsewhere, but not here yet. I sent a message to them at Gulltown while they stopped to resupply. They’ll meet us in King’s Landing, take our house in the city, and wait for us. That’s why I want you to get ready to travel. Take your finest dresses — it’s time to seduce a prince,” said Olenna, while Margaery merely pressed her lips together, resigned.

Margaery stood and began to leave, leaving her grandmother sipping her tea.

The old matriarch did not avert her gaze. She continued to stare at the garden before her, sighing softly.

“Who will be the new Hand of the King now that Lord Stark refused?” she murmured to herself. “What will Tywin do now that his precious children have been hurt — especially Jaime Lannister?”

“What will the lords of the North do to preserve themselves before so many enemies now? They have the gift now, and it will be a problem for the Reach, but we’ll honor our agreement with them… But do they think that, if they’re truly at war, they’ll be able to hold the North? I see that even without anything confirmed, they’re already in trouble. I wonder what old Lord Stark will do. Does he want to put Rhaegar’s son on the throne? Does he intend to support him?” Olenna let out a faint laugh, though her gaze remained serious.

The situation was far from easy for the Tyrells. The uncertainty of war, the possibility of the Arcticans entering the realm and simply conquering it — all of that was a threat, but also an opportunity. Nothing, however, was certain, nothing written in stone. It was a game Olenna had to play carefully — and sometimes, take risks to gain the greatest rewards.

Even if they were certain that Arctic was an enemy, it was still worth trying to seize power over Westeros through her granddaughter. If something went wrong, they could negotiate in the future. Olenna was sure it would be possible to reach an agreement.

In truth, she didn’t care if Arctic wanted to separate the North from the Seven Kingdoms — let him do so, as long as he left the rest of the realms in peace. The real question was: given his lineage, wouldn’t Jon Arctic be ambitious enough to try to take the Seven Kingdoms as well? After all, the only ones who had ever been close to that were the Targaryens, but there had been no news of them for years. They had simply vanished. Perhaps they were dead…

Now, Olenna needed to turn her attention to the North — and watch what Jon Arctic’s response would be. How would he act in the face of it all?

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