Alla Tyrell
The beautiful summer adorned Highgarden in a feeling of perpetual bloom. Flowers, chivalry, and abundance had been staples in Alla's life since she could remember. She belonged to a cadet branch of the main line of the Tyrells, making her, Megga, and Elinor a great choice to befriend Highgarden's most precious bloom, Margaery Tyrell.
They got along well. Margaery respected her and understood her silences, Elinor led them due to being the oldest, and Megga offered the necessary noise that made their conversations pleasant. From them, she learned about "northern barbarians."
"You think they will rob me and kiss me under the moonlight?" Megga asked with a maiden's laugh, fantasizing about her promised kiss.
"Perhaps, but first come, first served, dear cousin. I wanted to see the goods first, but alas, a supposed 'sickness' kept them in their rooms all day, just as a tourney was being celebrated. What a coincidence," Elinor said, rolling her eyes.
"Did the servants confirm it?" asked a curious Megga.
"Do we need confirmation? Four mystery knights appeared as four of our six guests disappeared. The real question would be how fast they are recovering from their wounds," said Margaery, offering her insight on the matter.
Alla wholeheartedly agreed with her cousin's opinion.
"Hope it's not the face. Imagine going to a ball with a purple eye" Megga said.
"In that we disagree, cousin. A good scar here and there can enhance a man's beauty. Just look at Garlan the Gallant," Elinor said, glancing in Margaery's direction.
"Oh yes, my brother is quite handsome, or so I've been told by his fiancée, Lady Leonette," Margaery responded with an angelic smile.
Alla could see some tension forming, but Megga had not.
"Yes, yes, Ser Garlan is so handsome. Maybe a small scar here and there for my promised northerner would be well received," Megga fantasized.
"But Megga, you haven't met any of them" Alla added timidly.
"Yet, dear cousin" Elinor interrupted with a naughty smirk.
Margaery's voice interrupted the girls.
"So, did you like the dresses?" she asked with an innocent smile.
"Yes! Yes, it's so beautiful and comfortable. I really liked it. It came in a lacquered silver box with a black wolf embossed on the lid, so gorgeous! I asked for the name of the tailor to order more, but they said they belong to the 'Funtom Company'…? Are they like a sellsword group that makes dresses?" Megga asked in confusion.
"Well, the tag did say 'Funtom Company: Winter Collection,'" Margaery said.
"Can you imagine? A bunch of rugged and smelly men hunched over chairs making pretty dresses?" Elinor said, and the girls laughed at the idea.
"Maybe they are. Does it matter? They did a wonderful job with mine. As long as they wash their hands while making them, I could order three more" Margaery said with a smile.
"A merchant group related to the Starks, perhaps. Its name was in the invitation along with the instructions," Alla offered.
"Yes, the invitation! Wait, why did they make us wait to be in the castle to put them on?" Megga asked.
"We would be sweaty and uncomfortable otherwise. The dresses were gorgeous but heavy and more suitable for colder climates" Alla answered.
"Now that you mention it, this room does feel a little cold. If we had prepared normally, we would be a mess of sweat and dirt" Elinor said.
"And also, it will be a most wonderful occasion, to finally see Princess Arianne with more clothes on her than usual" Elinor added with a smirk, while the girls laughed at the absurd truth of her statement.
Knock, knock.
"Come in," Margaery said.
"My ladies, the preparations are ready" the servant said and retired.
"So, ready to see the barbarians?" Elinor said.
"I want the most handsome one for me!" Megga declared confidently.
They laughed and went to the salon closest to the three sisters.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Megga Tyrell
Megga Tyrell entered the salon wearing a beautiful black dress. It felt cozy, like a mother's embrace, yet protected from the cold like a father's reassurance.
'Cold?' she thought, surprised, for it had been a year of summer across Westeros.
The view of the salon was absolutely astounding, unlike anything she had seen before.
Sky blue decorations adorned the walls.
Humongous translucent statues of wolves stood throughout the venue, like sentinels guarding something precious.
And then,
Then she saw them.
Six people stood in the middle of the salon.
She was smitten.
The leader, Robert Stark, had deep red hair crowned his head, with deep blue eyes taking her breath away. He was dressed in white, with details of fur that added a touch of wildness to his appearance.
And the other boys,
One had a wild, almost wet look, black hair, and a smile that promised only trouble, making her shiver in anticipation. He wore black, accentuating his face.
Another looked more restrained, but no less handsome. Pale, with sharp features, dark hair worn loose, he possessed a quiet, almost ghoulish charm,the kind that tempted you to fall and sin.
Another figure had a lean build, a long face, black hair, and piercing grey eyes. He wore more furs than the others, adding wildness to his solemn and attentive look.
The last of the northern men wore green, which complemented his wise green eyes, making him seem older than he was.
And a girl, also wearing green, shared the boy's colors in both clothes and eyes. Her gaze was lively, full of mischief. She had a beautiful smile, like a child of the forest from her nan's stories, promising trouble.
A voice interrupted her, and everyone else in the room.
"My Lords and Ladies, we welcome you to this celebratio. We are thankful of the warm reception we have received in the Reach. You have our gratitude, so we wished to share our joy by bringing a little piece of home for you to enjoy. I present myself, my name is Sebastian Phantomhive, and these are my Lords and Ladies. Heir of Winterfell, Robert Stark!"
Applause resounded through the room.
"His brother, Jon Snow!"
Some hesitated, but still clapped.
"Heir of the Iron Islands, Theon Greyjoy!"
A few grimaced, but most applauded.
"Heir of the Dreadfort, Domeric Bolton!"
The younger girls clapped eagerly, while the older guests watched with caution.
"And from the crannogmen, heir to the Greywater Watch Jojen Reed and Lady Meera Reed!"
More applause followed.
"And for your entertainment, my sister and I will be in charge of it. I come first and for my first piece, Sway. Enjoy."
The masked man took a fiddle and began to play.
"When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway'"
And then,
Megga was completely smitten.
'GODS BE GOOD, COULD I PICK MORE THAN ONE?' she screamed in her mind
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Oberyn Martell
The Red Viper had been traveling at his leisure on his brother's orders for quite some time. He had to go to the north to meet that blasted boy, but a letter from his brother stopped him.
His dear niece had escaped from Dorne to meet and arrange herself a betrothal to Willas Tyrell. The problem, she succeeded in escaping, and so he had to deviate to look out for his dear niece in a place where he was hated and unsolicited.
He took a sip from his cup, while observing the finer details of the feast.
The humongous direwolves must have cost a fortune, for you could even see small hairs in the sculptures. The place felt cold, which he did not like.
"Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore"
Music was a delight, and while he needed to talk with the masked boy, he had to talk with that old raisin first
'what a joy' he mused
"Greetings, Lady Olenna," he mustered, as the Queen of Thorns looked at him with boredom.
"Oh yes, the exiled viper comes to our gardens, here to retrieve a naughty snake, are you?" she said while tasting a nearby fig, unconcerned about the man.
Oberyn sat beside her without invitation and took a fig from a nearby table.
"We can talk about alignments, if you so wish, for I still remember a grape that became a thorn years ago. " Oberyn added while taking a sip from some vodka on the ice.
'I can see the appeal' he thought while he felt his throat burning.
"Oh, people that still remember that? Well, it makes sense, for even the best Tyroshi dye cannot hide those blooming silver streaks. How often do you do it? Call it mild curiosity if you must" the queen of thorns said with the elegance of a sharp knife.
"Once a month, for at least I have something to use dye for. It's been years since anyone has seen you with that imposing headpiece.-" he left the silence fester slightly in the conversation "-In my travels for Lys, I met a wonderful wigmaker. I can arrange something for you my lady, a gift one my part" he shared with jest.
She laughed.
"I will have to decline, for I would loathe having some vermin in my head. I am not used to that, unlike you.-" she paused a little to take a sip of her wine "-After all, we old and crippled tend to accept life as it is. It reminds me, how is your older brother Doran? Life always tend to get harder when you are old or cripple. Imagine being both" she added with a smiling venom.
"He is good, he will have your regards when I am back in Sunspear, but first I would inquire about young Willas. We had shared correspondence before, but I did not have time to share my thoughts with him. You, as his family should know, right?" he offered his sympathy.
"Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you"
She smiled and laughed.
"He is well enough, my thanks for your worry" she shared with him with all smiles.
He was alert.
'Something happened,' he realized, for he was good at reading people, and the thorny woman was telling the truth.
'She didn't lie. Hmm. Doesn't matter now' he thought.
"And what about the northern guests? Tales from his valor and travels are spreading like wildfire. Ready for the northern barbarians to steal some precious flowers?" he asked, part curiosity and part venom in his lips.
She rolled her eyes.
"Not even knowledge and travels can bring some wisdom to an old viper. How quaint" she said with boredom in her eyes.
"Just because you are versed in the ways of Lyseni pillow biters, does not mean that we all do. Marriage is a joyful union, do try to appreciate it" she reproached.
"And deprive the world of the joys of my spear? That would be most tragic" he mused with faux regret.
"Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more"
She smiled.
"Well, it seems your concern has finally arrived. Do make a good show, will you" she said while they both looked at a couple that entered the room.
They both turned as the music reached it's final crescendo.
"Stay with me, Sway with me!"
Through the doors came Princess Arianne Martell, radiant and bold, leaning on the arm of handsome and smiling Willas Tyrell.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author thoughts: Hope you liked the previous chapter (dead god silence) and hope you like this one. Sorry for the descriptions, I am not fond of them, but they were necessary to describe the world from a maiden's pov.
Also, Olenna was Olenna Redwine. She married Luthor Tyrell ( a grape that became a thorn).
So yeah, changes. Arianne Martell did escaped from Dorne, giving a headache to her father and uncle. I think that the next one will be the last for Highgarden, then we go to sunspear!.
And Oberyn + Olenna was so fun to write:
"exiled viper"
"Traitorous grape"
"Old and in denial"
"bald"
"bald and old and your brother is a cripple on his way to old"
"Your grandson is also a cripple"
"pillowbiter, get married and fk off"
"No"
Hope you like it.