#⸻ . ✷ ❛ elinor tyrell❜ 〉the handmaiden .

[west1rosi]

HOUSE TYREL.L AND THE OFFICIAL WIKIA ARTWORK.

Willas Tyrell Garlan Tyrell Elinor Tyrell

[aemondtargaryen]

So to avoid suffering from same face syndrome and practice a bit with faces I decided to draw the Handmaidens mentioned through ASOIAF

Irri and Jhiqui, handmaidens of Daenerys Targaryen

Jeyne Poole, handmaiden of Sansa Stark

Joanna Lannister, handmaiden of Rhaella Targaryen

Unnamed Princess of Dorne (Loreza), handmaiden of Rhaella Targaryen

Ashara Dayne, handmaiden of Elia Martell

Taena Merryweather, handmaiden of Cersei Lannister

Melara Hetherspoon, handmaiden of Cersei Lannister

Elinor Tyrell, handmaiden of Margaery Tyrell

[ddagent]

Childhood friends AU but in canon

My first time writing in seven weeks!!! Sincerest apologies if this sucks; I do hope you enjoy it. 

“Is she presentable?”

From behind the handmaiden, a choked snort of derision echoed out into the hallway. Jaime, Lord of Casterly Rock, just smiled. The handmaiden, short of stature but sweet of face, merely nodded and allowed him entry. Her gaze lingered on his crimson tunic and golden curls before the girl took her leave; no doubt to return to the kitchens and wax poetic about the Golden Lion. Jaime took a moment to bask in the admiration before he entered his oldest friend’s chambers.

Brienne was sat in front of the looking glass, staring unhappily at her reflection. Jaime crossed the room and pressed his lips to her freckled cheek. “Lady Evenstar.”

“My Lord.” Brienne sighed as he perched himself atop the dresser. “Who is it today?”

“Loras and Margaery of Highgarden.” Jaime barely restrained a yawn. “It’s been a while since we’ve had any of the great houses.”

His remark earned himself a rare smile from Brienne; Jaime’s chest puffing up at the honour. “It wouldn’t be. Not since you pushed poor Edmure Tully into a ditch.”

“Poor Edmure Tully? It wasn’t poor Edmure Tully when he was being rude to the great Evenstar of Tarth.” Jaime plucked a piece of lint from his tunic. “Anyway, it wasn’t just me. Cat helped.”

Jaime’s gaze met Brienne’s, and his dearest friend’s stoic demeanour fell apart at the memory of the Lord of Casterly Rock and the first daughter of Hoster Tully pushing the heir to Riverrun into the drained moat. Brienne’s cheeks grew flushed; her sapphire eyes alight at the recollection of his company. He fell in place behind Brienne; his firm hands resting atop her broad shoulders. His chin then placed itself upon her head; the only time Lord Jaime Lannister would ever be taller than Lady Brienne of Tarth. He earned another laugh, her hand reaching up to cover her smile, and Jaime could retire happily knowing his day’s work was done. 

“Come, my Lady Evenstar. The sooner we dispatch with the Tyrells, the sooner we can head to Maidenpool for the tourney.”

Reluctantly, Brienne took his arm, and the pair left her chambers in favour of the great hall of Casterly Rock. 

Servants and stewards passed them without question as they walked, arm-in-arm, through the halls of his ancestral home. In one year, upon his sixteenth nameday, Jaime would officially come of age, and he would no longer be subjected to these ridiculous matchmaking efforts. He had hoped, with his father’s passing five years before, that it would have put paid to maiden after maiden being thrust into his path. Brienne, too, had hoped for the same when Lord Selwyn had passed the mantle of Evenstar off to her. 

But here they both were. Dressed in their finest; the heirs of the Sunset and Narrow seas. Looking to see off their intendeds so they could watch grown men fail at fighting with sticks. 

“Addam made me promise that we’ll be there for the first bout,” Jaime proffered. “We’ll have to be quick.”

“We’ve had years of practice.” 

He grinned. “It should be easy. Tyrion says that young Loras prefers the company of the rougher sex.” 

“And Arianne says Lady Margaery will bed anything that moves.”

“Perhaps we should swap partners, my Lady, and make our mothers happy at last.” 

“And where would be the fun in that?” 

No fun at all, Jaime thought, as they passed through the last corridor that would take them to the great hall. Both his mother and the Lady Elinor despaired at being unable to find matches for their eldest children. They had been thrust upon the Tullys. They had been thrust upon the Starks. The sons and daughters of their bannermen had been trotted out intermittently since he and Brienne had been six; the Evenstar and the Lord of Casterly Rock finding fault with each and every one. 

Of course, the first of them had been Brienne herself. 

The daughter of his mother’s oldest friend; a match that would have united the east and west coasts of Westeros. Jaime had grumbled at being stuffed into an ill-fitting tunic and forced to act the part of a courting lord as he presented himself to Lord Selwyn and his wife. His mother had given him a red rose to give to his intended. But in Jaime’s shock at the sight of her – taller, with a smattering of mud-like freckles upon her broad face – he had dropped the rose at her feet. Brienne had kicked him in the shins at the slight, he’d pushed her to the ground, and the two were sent to spend the afternoon in the Sept ruminating on their behaviour. 

The next morning, after the offer of a match had been reneged, Jaime had turned up at Brienne’s chambers to offer her a sword instead. 

“Perhaps I’ll duel Loras,” Brienne mused as they came to a halt outside the doors leading to the grand hall. It had been a long time since they’d been able to disregard their suitors on a whim; their mothers’ insistence had forced them to get creative. “I’ve heard he’s good.”

“You’re better.”

Brienne grinned. “I had a good teacher.” Jaime beamed. “Ser Goodwin is a remarkable master-at-arms.” His elbow dug into her ribcage, and Brienne pinched the flesh of his stomach. Some things never changed. “I think that will send him on the first carriage back to Highgarden. Cocky young men don’t care for it when I knock them into the dirt.” 

“Funny, I rather enjoy it.” Perhaps not when he had been seven and considered himself the best swordsman of all time – only to be bested more often than not by his best friend. “But your plan has merit. Now, to dissuade Lady Margaery. It’ll be difficult. I’m incredibly handsome, rich—”

“—arrogant, vain, needy—”

“—I am not needy.”

“I hadn’t even made it onto the grounds when you were throwing open my carriage door!”

“I missed you!” Jaime huffed. “But you might have a point. If Lady Margaery is so...prolific, it is perhaps the chase she enjoys rather than the prey. I could simply annoy her into forfeiting the match.” 

Brienne frowned. “It’s risky.”

“It has merit!” Jaime’s arm slipped from hers; his hand resting upon the hilt of his sword. Brienne mimicked him; her fingers flexing at the absence of steel. “My Lady Evenstar, the jewel of the east, if you are so sure of my failings, then how about a wager? The last one to get out of their engagement has to clean the boots and armour of the victor.”

Brienne did not even flinch. Just held out her hand for a gentleman’s agreement. “I accept your terms, my Lord.” 

Jaime lifted her hand and placed his lips upon her skin. A fine blush covered Brienne’s cheeks; her chest hitching at the contact. Jaime’s stomach fluttered at the sight of her. Some days, their silly games and attendance at tourneys were enough. Other days, Jaime cursed the five-year-old who had decided that this singular woman was not enough for him when, in fact, she would grow to be his everything.  

[applcsweet]

  ♔  →  westeros  presents LEONETTE FOSSOWAY,  the  LADY of  HOUSE TYRELL of  BRIGHTWATER KEEP.  a raven sent word  that  she  bears  the resemblance to  LILY JAMES.  the  TWENTY FIVE  year  old  CIS FEMALE  was  JOYFUL  &  NURTURING  before  the dawn  of war, but  have now become  OVER-PROTECTIVE  &  MATERIALISTIC.  when  songs are  sung, their  verses speak of  JUICY RED APPLES IN BASKETS, PALE SILKS OVER PORCELAIN SKIN, THE SOOTHING MELODY OF A HIGH HARP.  whispers  throughout  the seven kingdoms  claim that their allegiance  lies with HOUSE  LANNISTER,  but  fealty  means little  when you play  the game of thrones.  (  lotto,  25, gmt,  she/her.  )

BASIC

name: leonette fossoway  nickname(s): nettie house: tyrell marital status: married age: 25 title: lady tyrell, lady of brightwater keep sexual + romantic orientation: heterosexual occupation / vocation: lady birth place: cider hall religion: faith of the seven

RELATIONS

apparent allegiance: house lannister true allegiance: house tyrell spouse: garlan tyrell children: eleyna tyrell ( 4 yr old. ) father: garth fossoway mother: elinor florent siblings: tbc

EXTERNAL

hair colour: honey blonde eye color: light brown height: 5'6 weight: 120 lbs prominent features: bright eyes, wide smile.  physical flaws: none physical qualities: slender, pear-shaped

HEADCANONS

Milk and honey, that’s how people would describe Lady Leonette. From the moment she was born, the lady practiced perfection in all aspects of her life. Always duty bound to her family, she often did their bidding without argument and with all the grace expected of a Southron Lady. Of all of Garth Fossoway and Elinor Florent’s children, Leonette was the sweetest. As a little girl she appeared quiet, delicate, but when spoken to she glowed like a butterfly unfurling it’s bright wings. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent, she was the epitome of quiet obedience. Her sisters were wild, challenging, and she was the soft flower amidst all the chaos. While her sisters squabbled, she would sit playing the high-harp or embroidering apples into panels of her gowns. 

When she turned seven, Leonette was chosen to join Margaery Tyrell’s retinue of ladies maids. It was a proud day for Garth, who knew all too well that House Fossoway was not revered or influential enough for his own lofty aspirations. Leonette went willingly to Highgarden, at the behest of her family. It suited her well and she enjoyed spending time with Margaery and her ladies far more than she did her own sisters - whom she had considered to be a headache on most days. 

For many years she knew Garlan, and for most of it, she was simply Margaery’s handmaiden. Leonette could not pinpoint the exact moment when that all changed, but one day she started looking at him differently. Her mother had already begun sending her letters about her future, claiming that her father was starting to receive interest from other Lords, all of whom wished to claim her. She feared that her interest for Garlan was not reciprocated, but was soon proven wrong. They were married not long after. 

Having a daughter gave her tremendous joy, although she’s had a gnawing fear ever since. As a woman, she is expected to give her husband many sons and from her own family, she has only ever seen girls. Leonette is concerned that all future children which she has will be girls, and she very much wishes to give Garlan a son. It’s been four years since the birth of Eleyna, and she’s still waiting for the gods to grant her a son. 

Following the Fossoway and Florent families siding with Stannis Baratheon, and the fallout which ended in Garlan being granted Lordship over Brightwater Keep, she has been unable to see her parents. She knows that her husband has profited from her family’s downfall - but she cannot forgive their betrayal to their vassal house. Despite being wife to the now Lord of Brightwater Keep, Leonette has not yet moved or visited her future home. It’s guilt which keeps her away and she knows that it’s something which she’ll have to face, once the real threat has been diminished.

[elinorxtyrell-blog]

°✧ {ARIANA GRANDE / FEMALE / SHE/HER} is that ELINOR TYRELL from HIGHGARDEN? the HANDMAIDEN hasn’t aged a day. i can’t believe they're TWENTY ONE years old and already so WITTY and GUILEFUL. it seems they’ve sworn their allegiance to house TYRELL. gods have mercy on their soul. [ bee / 21, gmt, she/her ] 

hi !! so my name’s bee, i’m 21 years old & i’m in the gmt timezone! i haven’t joined a tumblr rp in, like, 2 yeas & also english isn’t my first language so i apologize in advance if my writing is a lil rusty !!

so elinor tyrell is the youngest child of lord lorent tyrell & is a handmaiden. 

Although she is not as high up as other members of her family, Elinor has definitely developed the Tyrell charm. Her tiny frame and big, brown doe eyes are used to her advantage more often than not to gain other’s trust. She is aware of her youthful, wholesome appearance and plays it up to seem naive, although she is extremely observant, curious and calculating. Soft smiles usually grace her features and her mannerisms are gentle and captivating, always making sure the other individual’s guard is down and she gains their full trust. Though most of her actions are to ultimately manipulate individuals, she does particularly enjoy flirting and seeing the extent of her power over men’s minds. 

Being the youngest whilst growing up made her quite impulsive in her early years as she strove hard not to be underestimated due to her size and gender. She wanted to be like her older family members, climbing up trees and horseback riding - hobbies that were quickly shot down by her mother. However, as she grew older, being regarded as non threatening was something she knew would be her advantage. Over the years, she has learnt to keep her temper in check as well as fluttering through people and spaces unnoticed, gathering information and learning about other’s secrets. 

Most people don’t get past her walls as she only purely trusts and loves those in her immediate family, with many not realising how calculating the young, childlike girl actually is. Though never unnecessarily cruel, those who have wronged her have grown to regret it. All in all, however, she is described as a bright spark, striving to find the positive side to everything she does, wanting to figure out what her true role in this world is - which she considers to be more than just being a handmaiden. 

{i’ll expand this a bit more later, just wanted to have something up for now!}

you can also check out wanted connections here!

[chaosrpg]

Where would you see Sophie Skelton working?

Hi, anon! 

 We could see Sophie working as ROSLIN FREY or as a TULLY COUSIN. We could also see her working as one of the handmaidens of Margaery Tyrell, perhaps MEREDYTH CRANE, her cousin ELINOR TYRELL, or even MIRA FORRESTER. 

 We hope we’ll see an application from you soon!

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

hi! I just went on to Elinor Tyrell’s asoiaf page and it describes her as being Margaery’s ‘pillow friend’, do you know if it literally means just friends? or if it means something else bc I know that Cersei seems to think that Margaery keeps handmaidens so she can sleep with them. Margaery doesn’t seem to be straight but I’m not sure if she keeps handmaidens around to sleep with them

oh, that’s an odd phrasing on the wiki… strange that it’s managed to stick through multiple edits… will have to fix that… but anyway! Elinor Tyrell is more than just her cousin Margaery’s friend, but that term “pillow friend” is wrong, possibly from a weird translation of ASOIAF. The actual term is “bedmaid”, or “lady-in-waiting”. And yeah, Margaery sleeps with her bedmaids, but not sexually.*

The cousins took Sansa into their company as if they had known her all their lives. They spent long afternoons doing needlework and talking over lemon cakes and honeyed wine, played at tiles of an evening, sang together in the castle sept… and often one or two of them would be chosen to share Margaery’s bed, where they would whisper half the night away. –ASOS, Sansa II

“Margaery oft shares her blankets with her cousins. They sing and play games and whisper secrets to each other when the candles are snuffed out.” –AFFC, Cersei III

“Two of her ladies share her bed, different ones every night. Two others bring her breakfast and help her dress. She prays with her septa, reads with her cousin Elinor, sings with her cousin Alla, sews with her cousin Megga. When she’s not off hawking with Janna Fossoway and Merry Crane, she’s playing come-into-my-castle with that little Bulwer girl.” –AFFC, Cersei V

The thing about the term “bedmaid” though, is that pre-AFFC, GRRM almost always used it to mean merely a low-born servant, a handmaid, someone whose job it is to serve a noblewoman personally – dress her, make her bed, and such. But somewhere between writing ASOS and AFFC, the term got mixed up with the medieval job of a lady-in-waiting, a nobleborn woman who was a companion to a higher-ranking noblewoman, and whose job also often included services like dressing their lady, though not menial tasks. (See @joannalannister’s lovely meta for more.) The term also got blended with the “companionably sleep in the bed of their lady” jobs of Margaery’s cousins, which is also something ladies-in-waiting in our world did, though the position was called a “bedfellow”. I suspect this may be due to historical research GRRM did for AFFC (note his tendency to use archaic words such as “nuncle” also greatly increases for that book), though we can first see the concept in the Dunk and Egg story published between ASOS and AFFC:

“I was asleep in my bed last night, with my ladies all around me.” –The Sworn Sword

Anyway, by AFFC, “bedmaid” definitely means a nobleborn woman who sleeps in the bed of an unmarried or widowed noblewoman, and it’s used often in that book and thereafter:

Though Cersei often slept alone, she had never liked it. Her oldest memories were of sharing a bed with Jaime, when they had still been so young that no one could tell the two of them apart. Later, after they were separated, she’d had a string of bedmaids and companions, most of them girls of an age with her, the daughters of her father’s household knights and bannermen. None had pleased her, and few lasted very long. Little sneaks, the lot of them. Vapid, weepy creatures, always telling tales and trying to worm their way between me and Jaime. Still, there had been nights deep within the black bowels of the Rock when she had welcomed their warmth beside her. An empty bed was a cold bed.Here most of all. There were chills in this room, and her wretched royal husband had died beneath this canopy. Robert Baratheon, the First of His Name, may there never be a second. A dim, drunken brute of a man. Let him weep in hell. Taena warmed the bed as well as Robert ever had, and never tried to force Cersei’s legs apart. Of late she had shared the queen’s bed more often than Lord Merryweather’s. Orton did not seem to mind… or if he did, he knew better than to say so.

–AFFC, Cersei VII

“We have apartments prepared for all of you,” she told Alayne, “but if you like you may share my bed tonight. It’s large enough for four.”“I should be honored, my lady.”“Randa. Count yourself fortunate that I’m so tired. All I want to do is curl up and go to sleep. Usually when ladies share my bed they have to pay a pillow tax and tell me all about the wicked things they’ve done.”“What if they haven’t done any wicked things?”“Why, then they must confess all the wicked things they want to do. Not you, of course. I can see how virtuous you are just by looking at those rosy cheeks and big blue eyes of yours.” She yawned again. “I hope your feet are warm. I do hate bedmaids with cold feet.”

–AFFC, Alayne II

“In place of her former ladies-in-waiting, [Cersei] will henceforth be attended by a septa and three novices selected by the High Septon.”[…]The meal was served by three novices, well-scrubbed girls of good birth between the ages of twelve and sixteen. In their soft white woolens, each seemed more innocent and unworldly than the last, yet the High Septon had insisted that no girl spend more than seven days in the queen’s service, lest Cersei corrupt her. They tended the queen’s wardrobe, drew her bath, poured her wine, changed her bedclothes of a morning. One shared the queen’s bed every night, to ascertain she had no other company; the other two slept in an adjoining chamber with the septa who looked over them.

–ADWD, Epilogue

Regarding the question of Margaery’s sexuality, that’s… almost nonexistent in the books (compared with the show). There is one point where Cersei wonders if Margaery likes ladies the way Loras likes men, but that’s literally it. I personally wouldn’t use Cersei’s idle homophobia and desire for poisonous gossip as any kind of source, but I’m sure people have other reasons for their headcanons.

*Noblewomen that we know have sexually slept with their ladies: Cersei, with her companion Taena, working out her post-Robert sexual trauma and other sex/gender issues. Dany, with her handmaid Irri, initially when Irri caught her masturbating and finished the job; and few times thereafter when needing sexual relief, though she finds it uncomfortable the way Irri’s kisses “taste of duty” despite her being very willing to please her khaleesi. [edit to add post-F&B: And historically, there was Rhaena Targaryen, and her many female “favorites” (of which some were definitely sexual partners, but others may just have been friends.) There was also Saera Targaryen, who had a sexual relationship with her favorites Alys Turnberry and Perianne Moore (and her male favorites as well).]

But re Margaery and her ladies, please recall Elinor and Megga and Alla are only about 13 or younger, Sansa’s age. Which wouldn’t always stop GRRM considering his age weirdness (though the fact that the girls’ hymens were found to be broken is almost certainly because of their frequent horse rides), but the logistics of two companions always sharing a bed with Margaery, plus the general busyness of the Tyrell party (that frustrated the Kettleblacks), plus the treatment of them as innocent girls playing girlish games… well anyway, yeah. Hope that helps!

edit: a little more about the source of “pillow friend”, sigh.

[game-of-style]

Tyrell handmaidens, Alla, Megga and Elinor - Alberta Ferretti Fall 2017

[soundofcollapse-rp]

Garlan Tyrell | 27 | Married to Leonette Tyrell | OPEN | Jamie Dornan

Garlan Tyrell is the second son and second child of Mace and Alerie Tyrell. When he was younger, he was plump so his older brother, Willas, gave him the nickname “Garlan the Gallant” to save him from the fate that befell their uncle, Garth the Gross. Despite his youth, Garlan grew up to be a very respected and handsome knight and is thought of as the most chivalrous knight in the Reach. He is very similar to his younger brother Loras when it comes to fighting and tournaments, and is just as skilled, if not more so, then Loras. Garlan however, has no interest in gaining glory, making him less famous then his younger brother.

Garlan is married to Leonette Fossoway, a dainty and bright-eyed woman. The two seem to have a happy marriage, and Garlan is hopelessly in love with her. At first, many worried Leonette is not good for Garlan because she is infertile, as they had no children for a long time. However, it turned out that Leonette was not infertile, but rather one of her handmaidens was giving her moon tea instead of an fertility tea like she told Leonette. The girl was sent away, but Leonette constantly worried about it. Garlan told her it didn’t matter if they had children or not, he still loved her.

Garlan supported whatever decision his brother made when the war broke out. He supported the crown, and when the Reach finally entered the fold to fight, Garlan insisted on leading a force since his brother could not and fight for the Reach. He knew his wife worried for him, and he thought of her every day as he fought. He would return for her, if for nothing else. He did, in fact, return, to find out that Leonette was one of Willas’ top advisers. He was proud of her, but he would wish Willas would look to other things–like marrying and getting himself a true heir.

The peace in the Realm was the best thing after the long war. The Reach prospered and it seemed, so did house Tyrell. Even though Willas was still not married, and Garlan still served as his heir, his wife, Leonette became pregnant and gave birth to a baby girl, named Elinor. However, it wasn’t all great news, as around the time that Elinor was born, Loras was seriously injured during a skirmish in the Vale. Fortunately, he was able to pull through, and though his injury left his mark and he was relieved from his duties in the Kingsguard and sent home, Garlan is just happy to have his brother alive.

[khaleesi-in-the-north]

Pie Fit For A Knight

This is a little drabble written to go with a wonderful illustration by @polar-biscuit

He’s doing it again. Once more, Willas is staring at mother’s handmaiden, Lady Annette. Margaery has always liked Lady Annette. She helps her sew and makes her pretty dresses  when her father hosts other noble houses, and she makes the best Cinnamon Raisin bread. Right now, however, she wants Lady Annette to return to her Lord Redwyne’s castle and to stop distracting her brother.

“Willas, what happens to the gardener? Does he give the princess the flower?” She tugs on her brother’s sleeve. “Willas! Finish the story!”

“Huh?” asks Willas distantly. He looks down to Margaery as she makes pouty eyes and gestures to the book. “Oh right, ‘He searches far and near for the princess, yet he fails to find her. Every moment he can’t find her is a moment closer to the end. Her only hope to  grow strong once more is to touch the flower. When he believes all hope is lost, he stumbles across a dilapidated, single window tower. If not for-”

           Suddenly Margaery is fighting to get out of his lap. He lifts up his arms and the books and she bolts out of his lap.

           “Garlan! You’re back!” she cries as she runs forward to hug her second oldest brother. “I missed you!”

           Willas looks over to his crutches leaning against the wall. They’re too far for him to reach.

           Although Garlan looks sad, he puts on a smile for Margaery. “I missed you too. What happened while we were away?”

           Margaery grabbed Garlan’s hand and led him as to Willas as she told him about how Grandmother had showed her the new lilac bush and about the games she played with Elinor and Megga. “And Willas keeps staring at Lady Annette. She doesn’t look any different than usual. I think she broke him somehow,” she whispers in a voice that isn’t nearly as quiet as she believes it is.

           Garlan smiles up at Willas. “Is that so? Big brother has his eye on someone?”

           Willas rolls his eyes. “Shut up Gar.”

           Margaery climbs back into Willas’s lap. “Sorry, I forgot your crutches.” She leans back against him.

           Willas hugs her tight. “It’s okay, Margie. It’ll take time.” Following a month of bedrest since the accident, he’d been walking on his crutches for only a fortnight. It was an adjustment for everyone. “How was the tourney, Garlan?”

           Garlan pulls up a chair and sits beside them. “It was fun. Samwell and Dickon were there. The Hightowers too. Lord Fossoway brought his daughters.”

           A blush spread across Garlan’s face at the mention of Lord Fossoway, one that Margaery didn’t miss. Everyone in Highgarden knew Garlan was in love with Leonette Fossoway.

           “Did you kiss her?” Margaery asks. She swings her legs back and forth. Willas wishes she would stop, but doesn’t have the heart to ask her.

           Garlan’s blush deepens to a bright red. If it hadn’t formed in front of his eyes, Willas would have thought it was a sunburn.

           “No,” Garlan murmurs.

           “He did what all gallant knights do. He wore Lady Fossoway’s favors and bowed before her and her father at the tournament, didn’t you?” Willas teased. Somehow the blush had turned as red as Grandmother Olenna’s roses.

           “I think she’s very pretty, Gar,” says Margaery. “Did you win for her?”

           Garlan petted the side of Margaery’s hair. “No sweet sister.”

           “Who did?” she asked.

           “Look what father gave me!” Loras smiled smugly as he walked across the room, holding the largest piece of pie Margaery had ever seen.

           “Loras did,” says Garlan. Although he lost to his little brother, Garlan couldn’t stay mad at Loras. The boy was gifted, a better knight at nine than maybe even the Kingslayer had been. He still pouts though when he sees the pie. The pie that father didn’t let him have a bite of because it was “for my good little knight Loras”.

           Margaery’s eyes lit up when she saw the pie. “Wow. Father’s never given me a piece of pie so big.”

           She reaches out to touch a hand to touch it, but Loras pulls it away. “Maybe when you win a tourney, you can have some pie.”

           Margaery recoils her hand. To dampen the sting of Loras’s words, Willas holds her tighter. “What flavor is it?”

           “Lemon,” smirks Loras. He’s intentionally teasing them now. Lemon pie is Garlan and Margaery’s favorite, although Willas favored cherry. “And it’s all for me. Father said so. He said the best knights get the best pie and even sent out a raven ahead our return so the cooks could have it ready upon our arrival.”

           “Congratulations, Loras. You deserve it,” says Garlan, ever the gentleman.

           “Of course I deserve it. I knocked off Renly Baratheon, the brother of the king! Not to mention Erik Rowan. He’s older than Garlan.” Loras digs his fork into the pie. “One day I’ll be a Kingsguard and you’ll all have to bow for me. Even you, Margie!” Loras smiled a crooked little grin.

           “Not if you don’t learn some manners, boy,” snaps the Queen of Thorns. All the Tyrells had been too engrossed in Loras’s bragging to realize the family matriarch had slipped into the room. She grabbed the plate and raised it out of Loras’s grasp.

           “Hey! Father gave that to me,” cries Loras.

           “And I created your father. I think he owes me a pie every now and then.”

           Margaery giggles at her grandmother’s comment. Olenna smiles dotingly at her favorite grandchild. “How are you today, my little rose?”

           “Wonderful Grandmother. Willas was reading me a story about a gardener and a princess,” Margaery points at the picture of the gardener looking up the tower to the princess.

           “You’re going to be just as smart as him one day,” Olenna smiles.

           “Can I have my pie back, grandmother?” asks Loras as politely as Garlan would have asked.

           “It’s my pie now,” says Olenna. She takes the first bite out of the pie. Loras stomps away, failing to see Olenna blech at the taste. “Ick. Lemon. We have thousands of peaches. You’d think the bloody cooks would think to put a couple of those into a pie.” She gives the plate to Margaery. “Here, little rose, you can finish it.”

           A large smile spreads across Margaery’s face.

           “Can I have some, sister?” asks Garlan.

           For a second, Margaery mulls over her options. “Okay.”

           Garlan eats a couple bites and licks his lips. “Mmm. Thank you, Margaery.” He kisses her forehead. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

           Margaery eats a couple bites, then turns back to Willas and says. “Would you like some?”

           “No thank you, but I think I know someone who would.”

           Margaery and Willas look at Loras pouting by the window.

           “It’s my pie now,” says Margaery in a perfect imitation of Olenna.

           “It was Loras’s to begin with,” Willas tuts.

           “Loras was mean to begin with,” Margaery snarks. Clearly her evening lessons with the Queen of Thorns were productive.

           “Margaery, we both know how Loras can be.”

           Margaery hops off Willas’s lap. “Oh, alright. But I’m reading the next story to you when I come back.”

           He watches as she skips over to Loras. At first, Loras merely glares at her, probably because she’s chewing a piece of pie. Then his eyes light up and he grins wide as Margaery offers him the pie. They curl up next to each other and share it until eavery crumb is gone.

           Willas looks behind him. The pretty Redwyne girl is still there, blushing when she sees her looking at him. He winks at her and she shyly smiles at the floor.

           All around, Willas believed this moment was sweeter than any pie.

[west1rosi]

tags part 3

[rcsethcrn-archive-blog]

@ofgoldenwit

When she had arrived in King’s Landing, the battle for the great city was done. The fires had long since burnt out and the carnage had been cleared from the streets. The cobbled stone beneath her mare’s feet had looked as if it had been recently scrubbed clean as the Tyrell procession had ridden into the city and a part of her knew that it had been done in preparation for her coming. Mayhaps blood still stained the ground elsewhere but she had pushed those thoughts away. 

She had been well received by court and had quickly set to winning over the hearts and minds of the lords and ladies that roamed the halls of the Red Keep. Her interactions with the royal family themselves had mostly been limited to her courting of Joffrey and the queen mother’s occasional snide remarks. Tommen was young and preferred the company of his septa while Ser Jaime was far too preoccupied with his duties as a kingsguard honor the queen-to-be with his company.

She had heard tales of the Imp of Lannister, most sounding as if they could have been lumped in with the stories of grumpkins and snarks her older brothers once told in order to scare her. It was the tales of his wit and cunning that interested her, not the children’s stories that even grown men were prone to spreading. Though Margaery knew the youngest of Lord Tywin’s children did not have the favor of the Lord Hand or the queen but there was potential for an ally in him. She had sent an invitation for him to join her for lunch and had set her handmaidens to prepare everything in advance. Her solar was cleaned and a wide variety of foods were set out for their enjoyment, as well as water flavored with lemon and a large flagon of Arbor Red.

Her cousins Elinor and Alla were busy chattering away, just as they had done in perpetuity since she had first announced her intention to meet with Tyrion Lannister. When the page announced the aforementioned lord’s arrival, her handmaidens burst into a fit of giggles, all eager to meet the infamous dwarf. Margaery gave them a sharp look that rendered them silent before ordering the ever-present Tyrell guards to usher him in.

“Lord Tyrion,” she said, dipping her head in courtesy. “I was ever so pleased when you accepted my invitation. As Master of Coin, I’m sure the matters of Crown’s accounts must keep you busy and leave you little time for leisure.”

[west1rosi]

LIKE THIS POST for a starter from my the reach houses muses during the MAIN ASOIAF ERA. specify if you want a specific muse (or several and i'll pick). if you are a multimuse, choose your muses, or else I will ignore because I'm not good at choosing.

❝ HOUSE . . . .—tyrell

❝ OLENNA TYRELL . . . — TYRELL [the old rose.] head of the house.︱heterosexual, she/her. ︱ diana rigg. ❝ ALERIE TYRELL . . . — TYRELL [__the mother of thorns.] mother to margaery, willas, loras and garlan.︱heterosexual, she/her. ︱ joely richardson. ❝ WILLAS TYRELL . . . — TYRELL [the heir of highgarden.] the head of the house︱bisexual, he/him. ︱ gwilym lee. ❝ GARLAN TYRELL . . . — TYRELL [the knight.] the second son︱bisexual, he/him. ︱ jacob collins-levy. ❝ ELINOR TYRELL . . . — TYRELL [the handmaiden.] maergery's cousin and handmaiden.︱het, she/her. ︱ isabela merced. ❝ MARGEARY TYRELL . . . — TYRELL [the highgarden rose.] queen consort. lady of the reach. ︱bisexual, she/her. ︱ charlotte hope. ❝ RYNA HIGHTOWER . . . — TYRELLS [the rose in the tower.] lady for margaery. distant cousin.︱heterosexual, she/her. ︱ danielle rose russell.

❝ HOUSE . . . .—redwyne

❝ MINA REDWYNE . . . — REDWYNE [the vale.] lady olenna daughter. lady of the arbor.︱bisexual, she/her. ︱ claire forleni. ❝ DESMERA REDWYNE . . . — REDWYNE [the vale.] tba︱bisexual, she/her. ︱ charlotte hope.

[west1rosi]

@wedthrice asked: your taste in men always did leave something to be desired. PROMPTS FROM REIGN .

"can  you  call  it  a  taste  if  it's  broad  and  quite  impressive?"  and  elinor  laughs  briefly,  steps  going  through  the  gardens  at  the  red  keep.  it's  not  home  but  it  would  do  and  some  hot  days  made  her  feel  ease  enough,  like  things  would  all  turn  well.  the  handmaiden  is  a  flirt,  and  she  would  be  more  bothered  about  her  cousins'  words  if  they  didn't  ring  true.  "i'm  just  sayin',  dear  cousin,  not  all  of  us  can  marry  a  prince  or  a  future  king.  my  father  has  a  match  for  me.  .  .but  I  am  young  and  away  from  home."  

her  options  had  opened  and  perhaps,  she  could  have  a  better  match  for  her.  she  is  not  a  tyrell  of  highgarden  but  her  value  still  stands  and  elinor  is  willing  to  be  moved  on  the  chessboard.  "i  am  not  speaking  treason  of  any  kind,  my  lady.  I  am  simply  stating  the  fact.  my  mother  often  said  the  northmen  were  quite  brute  but.  .  .rugged  handsome."  she  would  not  mind  a  northman,  although  she  would  mind  the  north  and  it's  weather.