queen-of-thorns-and-roses:
“I am more than happy to wait Rath, I have ample time and I would be willing to pay for the best you can find and make.” She watched him as he continued to speak and move to show her some of his work. Basic in look but clearly meant to be built upon if so desired.
Margaery followed him, her guards hanging back to stand at the door. She stepped up to them, eyeing them carefully as she pondered just what exactly she was looking for. It was clear she was absolutely genuine and thinking quite carefully about what she wanted.
“For Garlan I was thinking some armour. I have his measurements,” she ushered for her guard to her left, he moved to hand her a piece of parchment. She had visited this area of flea bottom with intent. “These are exact I can assure you of that.” She handed him the parchment to him, below Garlans measurements were Loras’ as well. “A knew sword for Loras would be wonderful.”
She had to think one more moment before adding, “I wish for them to have small details that match to make these pieces easy to identify as the ones I have given them. Some that represents myself, did you have any thoughts on what would be possible?”
“I usually don’t smith for nobles, m’lady, but I think this could be a challenge I would like to try,” the young smith responded thoughtfully, trying to be respectful, but seeming to not be used to it. He prided himself on his craft, but that did not mean he often had nobles purchase from him, but he knew how he should speak, and he would attempt to be proper. Master Mott, however, had smithed for nobles often enough. It would be a challenge.
Reaching out, he took the parchment and scanned it, able to understand measurements even if he couldn’t read very well in anything not strictly craft-based. “I’ll see what I can do.” Her second request led him to glance over her dress, as if trying to take inspiration from that, before he responds, “I know that your family has a lot to do with flowers and plants. Is there a plant you consider yours, above anyone else in your House?”
As he asked the question, he racked his brain trying to remember everything he knew about the Tyrells. High Garden. One of his uncles had been involved with them, though he knew little beyond that. He couldn’t even recall their words, but he thought they had something to do with flowers. And thorns. There had been something about a Queen of Thorns. But most of what he had heard had been about Ser Loras and flowers and showy armor.
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