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[versigny]

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[starkmaiden]

[ She is only Queen Sansa now. She is the crown. She is the Red Wolf, the Crowned Wolf. She is the Stark in Winterfell.

The only Stark in Winterfell.

All she's ever wanted was to go home and be with her family. She's grateful that her remaining family lives, but they are all so far away from her. She and Bran write regularly, both as monarchs and siblings. Letters have to be sent by person to person to try and reach Arya and Jon. She doesn't even have her sworn shield Brienne. She'd left her behind in the Red Keep, for her brother needs her more in that pit of vipers than she does here in their ancestral home.

Spring is coming. The North rebuilds and soon, farming will become more feasible. She's made good trade agreements with neighboring kingdoms, and it's beginning to pay off now. Her home and her people prosper, but Sansa Stark languishes inside.

She hopes seeing Margaery again will bring her some comfort. It has been so long since they'd seen each other last. She rises from her throne to greet the Lady of Highgarden. She realizes that her old friend is alone in the world, just as she'd felt so long ago. ]

The North welcomes you, Lady Tyrell. Thank you for coming.

[ The introduction is grand and courteous as expected, but she requests a maid bring bread, salt and cheese along with some wine to her solar. She doesn't quite take Margaery's arm like she used to, but she escorts her herself. ]

How was your travels?

[versigny]

Excellent, Your Grace. I enjoyed the opportunity to roam, even if most of it was admiring landscape on horseback.

[ after Cersei Lannister's attempt on her life, Margaery had taken precautions to make sure everyone aside from a select few knew that she was alive. it meant isolation and caution in a way she'd never had to endure, an echo of her time in prison with better comforts and dignity, but every agonizing second of boredom or restless energy was worth it, in the end.

she was alive and her enemy was dead. what was that if not the game played properly? ]

Would you have time to ride with me, Your Grace? I would love to explore more of your home with you, and see it through your eyes.

[ which they will probably spend chaperoned by the Queensguard, but it's far better than staying cooped up in the same stronghold - and if there is anyone who understands imprisonment the way Margaery has experienced it these past few harrowing months, it is Sansa.

but out of respect for her friend's new position, Margaery doesn't reach out to take her hand like she longs to. there is a line that has never been there before, one that requires her reverence where there was only gentle affection before. instead, she follows half a step behind, hands folded across her front as she has always done to cultivate a demure appearance. ]

[starkmaiden]

I can make time for such an esteemed guest such as yourself.

[ The corners of her lips are slightly tilted up in a smile. Her bannermen say she is not as solemn as her lord father, but she is the ice of the North through and through. Her wolf blood is ice compared to how hot it runs for her sister. Guards walk along with them. Sansa is staunchly guarded, both as a queen and a beloved Stark. ]

There is much I would like to show you. The snows are beginning to slowly melt, so I hope the weather is tolerable for you.

[ She leads her into her solar. There are chairs with a table near the fire. It is warm enough that Sansa removed her cloak to show her dove grey dress that's embroidered with wolves and fish scales. She gestures for Margaery to take a seat with her once she sits. ]

An odd twist the game has left us, I think. Don't you agree?

[versigny]

[ tolerable is the most diplomatic way to put it, as the cold has a way of drawing out difficulties that a child of perpetual spring would never otherwise consider, but there's beauty in that, too. the delicate icicles that shine brighter than any diamond when the sun hits them just right, or the deceptive softness of snow when it blankets the land as far as the eye can see.

she sits when Sansa gives her permission, offering a smile wry enough for a dimple to surface. her gloves are taken off and left in her lap. ]

An odd twist, but we're alive. These days, that is the only truth that matters to me.

[ Margaery never speaks of it, the way the heat of the explosion felt close enough to burn even as she was far enough away to escape unscathed, the sinking feeling of knowing that it would have consumed her whole with nothing of her left afterwards. ]

And I am glad to know that you've found your rightful place as your calling, Your Grace. I'm just not sure what I am to do with my life anymore. Being the queen was what I wanted for so long.

[starkmaiden]

[ She removes her gloves as well. Sansa's hands are creamy pale and free of scars. Ramsey had ensured that all of his marks are only left on plates where they'd be covered. They start along her forearms up to her neck and down her legs to her ankles. He'd wanted to keep her pretty, he'd told her. The maid brings them their food along with some wine and tea.

Sansa cuts a slice of bread and slathers it with butter with a sprinkle of salt before she offers it to Margaery. ]

Please. Let it be Sansa and Margaery here. I think we owe each other much after all we've been through.

[ Sansa take her goblet of wine. The tea is meant for the Rose. She'd assumed she like something hot to warm her spring body. ]

I stopped dreaming of being a queen when I was a girl. After several beatings, I realized the crown is no fanciful thing to wear, but as I grew older, I learned how heavy it is upon one's brow. It is hard to be a sovereign, but harder so to be Queen, where I must work ten times as hard as a man to prove my capability. It is an exhausting job all on my own.

[ She pauses as she studies her thoughtfully. No one knows the Game and politics more than the woman sitting across from her. ]

You are not Queen, no, but how would you like to be an advisor to one?