Gardens of the Red Keep, Red Keep - King's Landing, CrownLands -An hour later
After spending some more time with her son and helping to ease some of his worries, Visenya received a formal invite from Olenna. The Queen of Thorns invited her to the gardens for some fruits and a nice chat, although the Dragoness knew too well it would not be nice or simple the topic of their discussion.
However, knowing it would be rude to decline and also go against her and Tywin's plans, she accepted. She took a moment to enjoy the quick walk through the gardens, a place she often enjoyed visiting with her sister when they were younger since the deceased Queen had a love for flowers.
An irony that Visenya had picked up that hobby, only that instead of admiring their beauty she was more interested in the ways she could use them to kill or harm someone without too much trouble.
She eventually walked down the path towards a wooden couch covered with pillows, placed under the shade of a garden arch that was covered by growing vines and green planters, offering a nice secluded spot for chatting.
The old woman was sitting on the couch, a small table having been moved and on it were small platters with grapes, cherries, thin bread slices and even cheese. Small quick meals to keep one until lunch and were the most suited even as the weather slowly started to become colder, a sign of the upcoming winter.
She pushed back any fresh memories of those haunting dreams of hers, trying to forget those blue eyes and the huge army marching through the snow plains. She had thought to send a letter to the Wall but she had no connections there, no one truly to answer her and she did not wish to sound crazy if there was no threat, yet.
Putting on a small fake smile, she kept her composure as it should be and approached the table and the older woman.
"Lady Olenna, I thank you for your invite," she said and gave a small bow, just enough for the common courtesy since there were passing people and servants around them.
"How many times have I told you to call me Olenna?" she asked and motioned with her hand for a spot by her side. "Sit, we have a lot to discuss."
She obeyed and gracefully took a seat by her side on the comfortable pillows while a servant brought her a goblet filled with fresh sweet wine.
"Thank you," she said to the young boy and took a sip of the crimson liquid.
"I had the misfortune to talk with your Lord husband yesterday," Olenna started, drinking from her goblet. "He and I eventually agreed to another marriage between our families, specifically between Loras and Cersei. Although something tells me that you already knew that."
The Dragoness lowered her goblet slowly, her face giving nothing away.
"I will not lie. I was informed of his plans and I did speculate where your 'meeting' would result."
"Of course you did, you are the smart one in that damn prideful family of Lions. But yet again, you are not a Lion, my dear. You are a Dragon," she said, turning her body to look at her better. "Although I will admit, you are by far more pleasant to be around than him."
"Is that so? I do not think I have been told that before," she confessed honestly.
This amused the older woman. "But of course, for a starter, you frown way less," she joked and enjoyed her wine. "You are smart, still quite beautiful and know how to make yourself pleasant enough, even if it is all an act. Lord Tywin doesn't even try."
She placed her goblet on the table and grabbed a cherry. "He doesn't have to. He is a powerful man with a terrifying reputation behind him. People know what to expect from him when they are around him," she said, making something glimmer in the woman's eyes.
Was it a sign that she was pleased by her words and her honesty? Was it amusement by the way she openly talked about her husband? Visenya could not truly tell.
In the end, the Queen of Thorns took a grape herself. "Indeed, but we are not men, are we now?" she said. "We are women, intelligent women that care about our own offspring far more than their fathers ever will," she continued.
Visenya did not have to be told more to get what Olenna was talking about. To her, it was rather obvious what message she was trying to pass without openly saying it and risking being overheard by one of Cersei's spies or worse, one of Varys' little birds.
"And we are stronger by staying together since only we can understand one another when it comes to our care for our children," she commented, earning a pleased smile from her companion.
"I am happy to see that you are more open-minded than your Lord husband. It pleases me to know I can talk to someone without being blackmailed and threatened to agree upon an idea or plan," Olenna said, and the Dragoness realized what Tywin had done to persuade her.
He had not told her the details of his discussion with the older woman, let alone how he managed to persuade her, but Visenya knew him and she knew how he thought. Now, the Queen of Thorns simply confirmed what she had initially thought, although she still lacked all the details behind it.
"It's like you said, we are women in a world of men," she said right after, offering a small smile. "I do believe that such co-existence will have also better communication between us. A more equal communication for that matter."
Olenna laughed faintly. "I knew I chose well," she said and grabbed her goblet again. "Rest assured, my dear. Once the need arises, you will find out everything you need," she continued and brought her goblet up. "Now, a toast and then you can help me gossip all those snobby court ladies that buzz around us like flies around horse shit."
At the same time, on the other side of the Gardens, another duo of females had chosen to sit and talk, choosing the stone patio that overlooked the blue sea of Blackwater Bay. Everything was so peaceful, the sea especially, and it felt like a mockery after the events of the night before, when Sansa learnt of her new fate.
"Growing up at Winterfell, all I ever wanted was to escape, to come here to the capital," Sansa confessed to Margaery, their backs turned to the beautiful view. "See the southern knights and their painted armour and King's Landing after dark—all the candles burning in all those windows..." her voice started, and she tried hard not to cry. "I'm stupid...a stupid little girl with stupid dreams who never learns."
Margaery gently wrapped her hand around the girl's elbow and lifted her to her feet. "Come on. Come walk with me."
Once the young dire wolf had stood up, she withdrew her hand and the two of them started to walk back to the gardens. "I remember the first time I saw you in the throne room. I'd never seen anyone who looked so unhappy. I want very much for you to be happy, Sansa, and so does my grandmother." She slowed down her path and turned to pick a beautiful orange-yellowish rose. "You would have been happy at Highgarden. But women in our position must make the best of our circumstances." She continued and handed her the rose.
"How do I make the best of my circumstances? I have to marry him." The girl asked, looking into her brown eyes with a desperate need for answers.
"Has Lord Tyrion mistreated you?" she asked her as they started to walk again.
"No."
"Has he been kind to you?"
"He's tried."
"You don't want him, though."
"He's a Lannister." Sansa pointed out.
The young rose was amused but hid it well. "Far from the worst Lannister, wouldn't you say? I mean, I have heard all kinds of good words about his brother, Ser Trystan"
At the mention of the half-lion, Sansa felt ashamed and lowered her head slightly while her cheeks turned a faint pink hue. She shouldn't truly talk like that about his family when he had been nothing but kind and chivalrous against her.
She thought of his sweet actions, the handkerchief he had first given her still hidden and she only took it out when she was alone. He had been kind to her and looked after her, being a proper knight like the one she had read in her books growing up.
She wondered how it would be if she were to marry him, instead. Perhaps she would have the chance to be happier although she was not sure how she felt about him.
Margaery did not interrupt her silence, but instead observed how quickly Sansa's mood changed. The Young Rose was not stupid, neither was she too innocent to fail and see that the Stark girl had a crush on the Half-Lion.
"I'm sorry. Here I am complaining to you," Sansa eventually said, realizing she had been talking about her problems to someone she barely knew and who would be Queen very soon.
"My son will be king Sons learn from their mothers. I plan to teach mine a great deal. And your son, if I'm not mistaken, your son might be the Lord of Casterly Rock and the North someday" she said, trying to make her see the positive things. However, when she saw the face Sansa pulled, she frowned her eyebrows in confusion. "What?"
"My son with him. I'll have to...we'll have to..." As she finally realized it, Sansa found herself shaking faintly and her stomach turning in the wrong way; unable to even imagine the act.
"If it's the pain you're worried about-I' Margaery said, trying to help but Sansa interrupted her.
"I'm not afraid of the pain. Not after what Joffrey's done to me." The Stark girl argued.
"What is it, then?" the young rose asked and Sansa gave her a look.
"He's rather good-looking even with the scar...especially with the scar." She said with a smile as if personally finding him attractive.
Sansa looked at her with second thoughts, not truly believing someone to express such admiration or consider Tyrion pretty. "He's a dwarf." She reminded him. "And Loras...Loras."
"Some women like tall men. Some like short men. Some like hairy men. Some like bald men. Gentle men, rough men, ugly men, pretty men, pretty girls." She giggled, making Sansa smile just a tad more. "Most women don't know what they like until they've tried it. And, sadly, so many of us get to try so little before we're old and grey." Her face had changed to that of small disappointment but she did not let it linger for long. "Tyrion may surprise you. From what I've heard, he's quite experienced."
"And that's a good thing?" Sansa asked her, clearly not having much experience or talk about the subject.
Margaery could not help but smile at her innocence. "It can be. We're very complicated, you know. Pleasing us takes practice."
"How do you know all this? Did your mother teach you?"
Margaery took Sansa's arm, her smile remaining upon her lips. "Yes, sweet girl. My mother taught me." She said an obvious lie that the Stark girl could not see through. "If you ever have questions, you can try to come to me if you want. I can teach you what my mother taught me."
Sansa did not know what to say, for she thought she would be a burden if she ever did that. However, she had some questions, Margaery seemed to be the most experienced among them and her own mother was not anywhere close to helping her.
"I...thank you...I don't know if I will...I mean..."
"Do not worry, Sansa. We are friends and friends help each other. And if I cannot help you with that, your new mother might," she said with the same smile but only made Sansa pale.
"You mean...the Dragon Princess?" she asked out loud, mostly to confirm her thoughts as she felt cold sweat down her spine as she looked ahead with small fear.
Trystan had told her that his mother was a good woman and with her heart in the right place and perhaps that was true. But Sansa saw her in that Throne Room, how commanding and royal she looked that she felt intimidated standing next to her, let alone become bold enough to ask her such questions.
"Yes, she is not that bad of a woman," Margaery confessed, earning Sansa's attention.
"Have you talked to her?" she asked her latest companion.
"I did, a few times. She is a mother, you know, and she might look strict but she has a good heart for us. I am sure she would be happy to help you and between us," she pulled Sansa a tad closer and lowered her tone, "she might be the most experienced one of us all."
This made the Stark girl look at her, once again confused by the topic. "I am afraid I do not understand."
Her companion chuckled faintly. "You saw her husband, Lord Tywin, at the Throne Room, didn't you?" she asked her and Sansa nodded, trying to shiver upon remembering that strict and cold expression of the man on top of the white horse, dressed in armour. "Well, they have been married for almost 20 years. She must know more to be successful with a man like the Old Lion of Casterly Rock."
Sansa did not say anything as the two of them straightened their backs and continued walking but she was put into thought. While not that experienced on the topic or the subject, she did understand what Margaery was implying.
However, she had nothing to comment on the subject as she tried to accept the situation in general.
Sept of Baelor, King's Landing, Crown Lands - Wedding Day
When Tywin Lannister said he would rush the wedding, he was not joking, but then again, when did he truly make any sort of jokes?
With the help of Visenya, the wedding and the feast after had all been arranged in record time.
Now, everyone had been gathered into the Sept for the grand ceremony, the Union of a Wolf and a Lion. Lords Paramount with their wives had showed up and many Ladies of the Court as well.
Dresses of yellow and blue were the main thing one could distinguish in the room as the main source of light came from the candles and the huge windows shaped like the symbol of the Seven. The crowd formed two main lines, a corridor created between them for the bride to be walked and led towards the steps.
At the very top of the steps was the Septon, ready to say the words and unify the marriage. A step beneath him was Tyrion, standing next to a stool and wearing the Lannister cloak that he would drape his new wife with.
A few steps lower but still higher than the common folk, Cersei, Tywin, Visenya, and Trystan stood in that line. The Queen Regent had chosen a red dress with golden lions on the shoulders and a part of her shoulders and collarbone exposed. Her golden blond hair was in twin braids, elegantly falling across her chest.
Tywin himself had dressed more properly, as per usual dressed in black but with a long leather black coat on top. The pin of the Hand was visible, an equal golden glow coming from it similarly to the golden lion decorating his coat and the inside of his folded outwards coat collar.
By his side was Visenya, who had also dressed for the occasion.
She wore a tight red dress that wrapped around her body and curves while the bottom of it pooled faintly around her legs. Instead of sleeves, the dress had the same material wrapping elegantly in a crisscross pattern across her arms with a thin silver lace right beneath them to occupy any exposed skin.
A belt of similar design and silver shade was around her waist while her white hair had been curled by last night's braids and fell around her cheeks and neck and then covered her back up to her waist.
Last was Trystan, who stood next to his mother and had his hands behind his back. He wore a design of clothing similar to that of his father, but his coat was a very dark red with golden lions and his pants were black, representing more the Targaryen colours than the Lannister ones.
At last, the bride appeared and stood on top of the entrance steps by the door. Quickly and silently, Joffrey approached her with his smirk.
"What are you doing?" she asked him in a hushed tone, too stunned to think of adding any titles after her sentence.
"Your father's gone. As the father of the realm, it is my duty to give you away to your husband," the boy said, clearly enjoying the situation.
Having no other choice, Sansa took his arm as the great doors of the Sept closed behind them. Slowly, they descended the stairs and walked through the gathered crowd.
Sansa was nervous; her stomach had turned into a tight knot and her heart seemed to ache with each beat. She could not believe she was about to be wed, to Tyrion of all people. She tried to look forward and not trip, summoning every ounce of courage she had to help her get through this.
As she approached the steps, her eyes fell on Margaery and her family. The girl offered her a comforting smile but said nothing as the world around them remained silent.
Then, she looked at the other side where her new 'family' stood. She barely looked at Cersei or the intimidating Tywin but glanced at the other two members, who were not practically Lions.
Visenya stood beautifully as always, with her back straight and outshining the dull and bitter Queen Regent at her husband's other side. Their eyes connected and Sansa could see those beautiful exotic amber eyes soften faintly while she remembered what Margaery had told her.
Lastly, she glanced at Trystan. He stood like a statue, his lips pressed to form a thin line and he was clearly not happy with that arrangement. His beautiful green eyes seemed apologetic, offering empathy to the scared Stark girl.
The only good thing that Sansa ever saw through that marriage was the fact that she would be seeing Trystan more often. Since they were about to be siblings, in a way, no one would judge them if they talked more often.
That thought offered her some small comfort, knowing at least he would be close by and he would not let any harm come to her; she knew it.
Finally, she reached Tyrion and noticed the stool he had been brought to be closer to her height. Unfortunately, Joffrey did too and once he released her, he took the stool and went to join his family.
He had that smug smirk upon his face, pleased with what he did, but it quickly disappeared. Because the moment he set the stool down and looked at his family, he received not one but two scolding looks.
Trystan and Visenya were not happy with his actions, making it clear by the way they silently scolded and judged him, to the point that he felt uncomfortable and turned his back to them.
This boy, mother and son thought at the same time but were forced to remain quiet and focus on the event.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," the Septon said, starting with the first step of the wedding.
Sansa turned her back to Tyrion to help him place the red cloak around her shoulders, but he could not reach. He did try to jump but failed miserably to reach her shoulders, creating a comical image that caused snickers from the crowd.
However, the sound of a foot being put down with a small force was heard and everyone looked at the source of it. Visenya had taken a step forward, her glowing eyes narrowed dangerously as she scanned the crowd.
Everyone who dared to smile or snicker quickly went quiet and a lot of heads were bowed in respect, fear and embarrassment. Satisfied with that, she pulled her leg back and stood at her rightful place between her husband and son.
Tyrion gave her a thankful look and then focused on Sansa again, gathering his courage to say the next words. "Could you—" he could not finish the sentence but she understood.
She gracefully knelt and allowed him to place the cloak on her shoulder, being a little bit short since it was made mostly for Tyrion's size. Either way, she accepted it and then rose, earning a small "thank you" from her husband-to-be.
The High Septon looked at the two of them, pitying Sansa but he said nothing else. Earning a warning glare from Tywin, he cleared his throat and focused on his words, officially starting the ceremony.