The Phoenix – A GOT Fan-Fiction

[300 AC]

Staring at the dark wooden door that was the entrance to her 'quarters', the skillful carving of a phoenix being particularly eye-catching and somewhat terror-inducing, Margaery Tyrell felt her heart beating unsteadily.

The young Southern Queen had been held hostage by the Red Temple for several weeks by now and so far her captivity had been surprisingly pleasant.

Every day a bath would be prepared for her to enjoy and the food that was delivered to her three times a day was also very much to her liking. The soft red robe, she had gotten for clothing, would be washed every two days and was made out of high-quality silk.

Besides being confined to her quarters which consisted of a bedroom, a living room, a small study with nearly a hundred books shelved in it, and a bathroom for her own use, she did not feel like a prisoner at all.

Having all sorts of grizzly stories from not only the Septa and the Maester in Highgarden, but all kinds of people about the horrifying things the Red Temple did to their enemies, including their use of blood magic, Margaery had yet to experience any kind of torture or even interrogation.

And it was that exact fact, that made her supremely uneasy.

With her own eyes, she had seen the Red God turn tens of thousands of soldiers and knights from the South into nothing but ashes, including her brother and the loyal and seasoned general Randyl Tarly, who had served her House for decades.

So Margaery knew without a doubt that the divine being ruling the temple was by no means a merciful and forgiving being, which only caused her to be more uneasy as time passed.

She could only imagine the fate that awaited her, and with every day that she was not dragged from her room to be sacrificed in some kind of dark ritual, her thoughts turned more and more frantic. Never in her life had she thought that being treated kindly and fairly could be so nightmarish, but at this point, she was already at the edge of sanity, terrible fear being her only companion.

Knowing full-well that fighting the Red Temple was an impossible undertaking, Margaery just wanted to silence the fear in her heart, the image of a giant fiery bird haunting her dreams, as cruel blazing eyes glared down at her shivering form.

She had considered slashing her own wrists several times already, but seeing as the entity wandering through her dreams was a true god, she had doubts about being able to escape the Red God's grasp that way.

It was her grandmother that had taught her everything she knew and Margaery remembered well the lessons about knowing her own strengths and weaknesses. Facing the Red God and his temple, the Young Rose of Highgarden had no confidence that her strengths could help her escape the nightmare her life had turned into.

The only thing she knew about gods was that they had to be worshipped and respected, something she had clearly not done before when it came to the Red God.

Margaery understood this as her fault and was willing to swear off her old gods in favour of becoming a sincere believer of the God of Volantis, and to that end, she had pleaded with the Fiery Hand warrior guarding her quarters to convey her wish for an audience with the Red God, so that he may see for himself the change of heart she had.

Suddenly she heard the heavy doors to her chambers being unlocked, making her jump from her seat on the soft couch in fright, even though Margaery knew that it was probably just a servant with her food.

She was wrong.

As the door opened, it wasn't one of the servants of the temple that stepped into the small living room that was part of her quarters, but a man wearing a simple set of black linen clothes, a tunic, and some pants. He didn't wear any shoes though, as he walked silently into the room, his bare feet making no sound as they moved over the polished stone floor.

The man had wild and dark locks, while his eyes shone with a purple light that made her breath hitch. His simple clothing couldn't hide the perfect physique beneath, neither could they hide the fact that he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her seventeen years of life.

Looking at her, the man smiled ever so slightly, causing her heart to palpitate for a reason entirely unrelated to fear, when suddenly a voice like well-aged wine and bittersweet chocolate rang into her ears.

“Lady Tyrell, I have heard that you wanted an audience with me.”, the man said with a soothing calm.

It took a moment for the words to settle in though, as the young Queen was somewhat captivated by the man's voice and looks. But when they did, Margaery's eyes displayed her confusion as she did not understand the meaning behind them.

The only one she had pleaded to have an audience with was the Red G-

Eyes widening in shock and fear, her whole body freezing up, the young girl felt her airways constricting and making it hard for her to breathe, as she realised who it was that had appeared before her.

"You don't have to fear me, Margaery.", the man said gently and softly, inexplicably causing the rising panic in her mind to calm and dissipate, "I have no habit of talking to those I consider enemies, nor do I enjoy torturing those I do. You may be a political hostage, but no harm will come to you as long as you stay under this roof."

These words, spoken directly by the Red God, lifted an immeasurable weight from the little Queen's shoulders, as tears of relief started to flow from her eyes. She knew that there was little reason to believe the man, or god, in front of her, but she just did as if it was an impossibility that he would lie to her.

Her legs losing strength, Margaery tumbled backwards and fell onto the couch, a shuddering breath leaving her soft lips, as she pulled her knees into her chest and whispered almost inaudibly: "Thank you, thank you, thank you … "

She repeated those words over and over, her mind a mess as the tension of the last few days seemingly just vanished from her form. The strain and constant worry had truly exhausted her spirit and very nearly drove her mad.

Having not only lost her brother and any hopes for a future, she had envisioned for herself, but also being witness to the horrifying display of absolute power, along with weeks of being terrified for her life, the young girl just collapsed.

Through her tear-filled vision, she absentmindedly saw the most beautiful man she had ever seen, approach her and crouch down before her, as his soothing voice caressed her ears once again.

“Rest now, little rose.”, the god intoned softly, a gentle sigh accompanying his words, “Once you wake up, the world won't be so bleak anymore. I promise.”

As if on instinct, Margaery found herself just giving in, as she closed her eyes and let herself fall into the comforting embrace of sleep, warmth and comfort spreading through her strained mind while she did so.

…

Sighing to himself, Phenex took hold of the lithe form of Margaery Tyrell, as he carried her to her bed and put her under the covers.

The young Queen's mind had been close to collapsing due to the overwhelming grief and crushing fear she had towards him.

Despite his ruthless nature when it came to dealing with the enemies of the Red Temple and those standing in his way, it wasn't a pleasant feeling by any means to know that his mere existence nearly drove the girl mad with terror.

Phenex knew that Margaery was an ambitious young woman that had learned to use her charms to navigate the political landscape and even to weaponise it to turn situations in her favour, but seeing her sleeping and looking so innocent, he knew that he could not hold this against her.

The young woman was much like Sansa Stark, having been raised in the belief that being Queen would be the ultimate sign of success, that the power and authority of such a position were the greatest tools she could possess to ensure her own well-being, and that she should constantly strive towards that goal.

Sansa may have been somewhat more innocent in her pursuit of marrying a Prince, but they were both victims of their upbringing.

And even though Margaery had done nothing to stop the soldiers of her army from raping and pillaging the homes of innocents after they had breached the walls of King's Landing, Phenex could see that this wasn't because she had no compassion, but simply because she had been told that this was how things were in a war.

In the end, he didn't know if it was simple pity or mercy, but Phenex decided that he would not add to the girl's fear from now on.

Instead, he would help her turn that fear into something else, along with gaining some new meaning in her life besides becoming the Queen.

If he could awaken the compassion and kindness in her heart, Margaery Tyrell would undoubtedly make for a good priestess, not to mention that fear and worship were basically just different sides of the same coin named 'faith'.