; to be the queen

Somehow, she had found herself caught a midst a kaleidoscope. No, such a term was a criminal understatement. For it was not just a chaotic tumbling of colors surrounding her, but the smell of ladies' perfumes and fine foods, the taste of champagne on her rosy lips, the sound of laughter and of the orchestra and a general excitement that wafted throughout the crowds. This wild lavishness had all assembled itself under a single roof due to the obliging hospitality of a single figure.

Her brother had been the one to invite her to this wondrous extravagance. How she could have gone so long without even hearing of such magnificence was a great mystery. But once enlightened, curiosity was only natural. Such parties were uncommon along her side of the bay, after all. Margaery could not even fathom the bewilderment that would cross her husband's face should any of their esteemed neighbors host such an affair. Amusing, though, and far kinder a shock than he deserved. But what was the point in thinking of Joffrey Baratheon when he was not with her?

            { God knew whom he was with now. He was not one to allow his wife attendance                to such social gatherings without him, but perhaps the promise of a chance to                  yield to a greater passion had swayed him. }

Time passed, and the Tyrell only heard rumors of their patron. Where might he be? What sort of man did not entertain his guests himself? Then, she heard it. A name she thought to never grace her ears again.

                                                            "Martell? What Martell?"

As if drawn by fate, her fair head turned to the left as she saw him move down the staircase. He seemed to drift through the other guests as if they were nothing, drift through them as coolly as mist. He always did look so cool. A god among mortals, approaching her. The party seemed but a shifting dream. Only he was solid.

                   Well, she wasn’t stupid. Asha didn’t miss the way her eyes glanced                    at her hand, the way she seemed to know what she was thinking a                    moment before even Asha knew. And the way that she was a step                    ahead of her consistently. She couldn’t help but let a tiny smile                    flicker across her face. Impressive, she had to admit. This girl was                    no rookie. She might even be better than Asha.

                                      And having someone out there better at her job than                                       her was unacceptable.

                            ❝I admit, this isn’t what I was expecting. But alright, I’ll bite.                    I mean, I’m certainly impressed with your skill. And your bravery.                    Tyrell… you’re Margaery?❞

                   When she racked her brain, Asha could remember the photos of the                    beautiful blonde woman before her on the news. Or rather, one of the                    entertainment segments before the real news. Her family was rich, she                    was intelligent and beautiful, and she had just gotten engaged to the                    spoiled, bratty heir to the combined Baratheon and Lannister fortunes.

                                        ❝You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. And you can’t be                                            stupid. You want my help killing him because of course                                            they’ll question the fiancé. It’s bad business to kill people                                            you’re personally invested in. ❞

                    She thought, hand lifting to her hair and running through her hair. It                     was against most of what she believed in. Asha worked alone. But if                     she was going to have an ally, Margaery Tyrell was a good bet.

                                                                  ❝Alright. I might be interested. I have                                                                     no desire to kill you, Tyrell. But we                                                                     need to talk about what I would get                                                                     in return. Money? Protection from the                                                                     law? Killing assholes is one thing. But                                                                     a rich kid is something much more risky.❞

                     ❝I rarely am what most expect. Indeed, I am Margaery. Pleasure                    to meet you, even if our surroundings are not so. I do apologize for                    he secrecy and blackmail, but how else was I to get your attention?❞

                   She liked the other, admired the Greyjoy's style and spirit, but the                    Tyrell did not trust her. Had she openly consulted with her, it would                    have been simple enough to alert the authorities to her schemes. Or                    even worse, the Lannisters. Incriminating information about the other                    had been necessary for her own protection.

                                      She was not fool enough or desirous of friendship.                                       Allies, however, would be lovely.

                            ❝Bad business, but altogether a requirement. I appreciate                     the sentiment, for I do not wish to die❞

                   She could do it, if she wanted to very badly. Margaery wasn't one for                    hand-to-hand combat. At a distance, she supposed it would be a matter                    of which charming murderess was the quicker draw. Hiding her body                     would be incredibly difficult. She was worth more to Asha Greyjoy alive                    than dead.

                           ❝I can't promise protection from the law. I can offer you                            more money than you've ever had in your life. Vigilante                             justice is not typically a profitable business.                          

                                        That should help convince you. But looking through your                                         greatest hits, it doesn't take a genius to realize that you                                         go after womanizers and abusers.