(Margaery did not look like the Queen of the Realm. Not with her shorn dress and wretched hair. Being thrown from one pit of fire to the next was bound to do that to even the most adaptable person. She's wandering about, her mind a screeching roar, and while she can't remember much, she does remember her brother. Where was her brother...? He had to be near...
She couldn't even comprehend the foreign structure of the train or the cuts up and down her body. She just needed to find her brother, needed to find her family in all of this carnage, she needed to find-
A hand reaches out to her and grips her. Stops her in her tracks physically and mentally. She blinks a few times, dazed, but then her eyes settle on the woman. A woman who looked nearly as distraught as she, and suddenly, Margaery remembered herself. The crown she wore and what it represented, what she wanted to represent as a queen, how she wanted to be as a queen.
Her shoulders roll back, her spine straightens, and a calm spread over her. She could worry for her family later. Her brother was an excellent swordsman. She had to take care of this woman who gripped her so fiercely. She rests a gentle hand over the woman's, not trying to remove her hand. Instead, she lightly strokes it.)
It's all right. (She doesn't know if it is, but her own voice comes out soft, direct.) My name is Margaery Tyrell.
(She purses her lips, glancing around.)
I fear I do not know where we are either but worry not. (She offers a genuine smile, squeezing the woman's hand.) We are no longer alone. We should find somewhere...(A glance around, her smile fading.) Safer, perhaps. We can sort ourselves out then.
B
She couldn't even comprehend the foreign structure of the train or the cuts up and down her body. She just needed to find her brother, needed to find her family in all of this carnage, she needed to find-
A hand reaches out to her and grips her. Stops her in her tracks physically and mentally. She blinks a few times, dazed, but then her eyes settle on the woman. A woman who looked nearly as distraught as she, and suddenly, Margaery remembered herself. The crown she wore and what it represented, what she wanted to represent as a queen, how she wanted to be as a queen.
Her shoulders roll back, her spine straightens, and a calm spread over her. She could worry for her family later. Her brother was an excellent swordsman. She had to take care of this woman who gripped her so fiercely. She rests a gentle hand over the woman's, not trying to remove her hand. Instead, she lightly strokes it.)
It's all right. (She doesn't know if it is, but her own voice comes out soft, direct.) My name is Margaery Tyrell.
(She purses her lips, glancing around.)
I fear I do not know where we are either but worry not. (She offers a genuine smile, squeezing the woman's hand.) We are no longer alone. We should find somewhere...(A glance around, her smile fading.) Safer, perhaps. We can sort ourselves out then.