She could remember how desperate and all consuming her desire to be queen had been. Ambition had seemed like the most potent of emotions, pushing her nearly past the point of reason, though some might think she crossed that line when she intentionally placed herself in the lion's jaws (so to speak.) It seemed so small and fragile now, a speck of sand set against the large expanse of a beach. She had assumed that was who she was, but Jon showed her that if she raised her eyes just a little, there was far more than that simple speck. She had an ocean to cross, a stormy sea that had presented itself as desire. She might never cross it, but it was better to lose herself in the waters than to remain standing on the sands, wondering what might have been.
She stretched beneath him, feeling the complaint of her muscles as they strained and were brought back to life. The sensation of satisfaction was dwindling away like a dying candle. It wouldn't be long before desperation returned, but for the moment, she wanted to bask in the tenderness of him. He had shown her nothing but that since she woke. That gentle warmth in him had been soothing, reminding her of how lonely she felt when he left her rooms. Just the sight of him had been enough to make her believe the hours ahead would not be so terrible. Though she'd never admit it, she had imagined what it would be like to be held and to hold in this way. She had wondered how her mind and body would respond to the sound of his heart beating, what the heat of his skin could awake in her. That had seemed like some grand thing. Now, it was a small craving compared to what he truly brought out in her.
There was a murmur of hushed voices in the hall, both male and female. She had maids that often looked in on her, bringing her food and hovering pitifully as they tried to fulfill their orders. Sansa had commanded (there was no other word for it) that they ensure that Margaery was well looked after. As the former queen made no requests, they struggled to think of what to do and how to please Sansa. They were her servants, not Margaery's. They would be turned away from the guards and scurry back to Sansa. It wouldn't surprise Margaery to learn that Jon's sister learned of what had happened before his other men.
He was neglecting his duties by remaining here. It was a matter that Margaery should fret over, sending him from the room and back to the great hall where he might act as king. Sansa likely wouldn't wait for his return and would attempt to reside in his place. The power struggle between she and Davos would be amusing, if it didn't create more problems. Jon's presence would rectify the matter, but Margaery was greedy and not about to relinquish the day she had been promised. There were so many places in her room that they could rut and chase that illusive pleasure. She wanted to lay with him in her bed, she wanted to couple by the fire and she wanted to be pressed against the wall. After so long in searching for him, without knowing she had been searching, she needed the day before she'd consider the outside world again.
"Mmm," she smiled lazily, "It doesn't seem to take much to make you come." That to her was a great triumph. She knew how to please men and had done so before, but this, as it was in many ways, was different. She kissed him in return, gently running her thumb against the length of his jaw. "I know you are. We are promised in ways that can't be undone." It was greater than a marriage. Even if Arianne became his queen, their vows wouldn't come near to Jon and Margaery's. She shivered at the feeling of his teeth, her eyes becoming smoky and black. "I expected nothing less." The idea of rutting, even when half asleep was as exciting as coupling in the busy halls or as they supped. "Better to end my day or begin it with you inside me than to suffer that emptiness again."
At least her nights would be full of him. She couldn't return to that quiet or her cold bed. She had her fill of loneliness and sorrow.
"It was the same for me. I didn't know where I would got at the end of my convalescence. I thought that I would simply be kept her as a prisoner with some flimsy excuse or married to one of your men. I didn't expect this." There was still no guarantee but that threat came from outside forces. She knew that Jon wouldn't listen to them nor would he let anyone tear her from his side.
She pressed her brow to his, gently caressing his hair and breathed in the smell of them. The rich perfume of lust and sex filled her nose, but more than that, there was him. He had a musk that she couldn't describe, made up of horses, wolves and leather. She only knew that she would crave it for the rest of her life and it would do nothing but remind her of home. "There is no going back," she whispered again. "You are the very beating of my heart. I love you more than those words can convey. I am yours and only yours."
She grinned at his rising desire, shifting beneath him, her knee brushing between his legs unintentionally. "Then we are truly well suited. Mine is returning as well."
no subject
She stretched beneath him, feeling the complaint of her muscles as they strained and were brought back to life. The sensation of satisfaction was dwindling away like a dying candle. It wouldn't be long before desperation returned, but for the moment, she wanted to bask in the tenderness of him. He had shown her nothing but that since she woke. That gentle warmth in him had been soothing, reminding her of how lonely she felt when he left her rooms. Just the sight of him had been enough to make her believe the hours ahead would not be so terrible. Though she'd never admit it, she had imagined what it would be like to be held and to hold in this way. She had wondered how her mind and body would respond to the sound of his heart beating, what the heat of his skin could awake in her. That had seemed like some grand thing. Now, it was a small craving compared to what he truly brought out in her.
There was a murmur of hushed voices in the hall, both male and female. She had maids that often looked in on her, bringing her food and hovering pitifully as they tried to fulfill their orders. Sansa had commanded (there was no other word for it) that they ensure that Margaery was well looked after. As the former queen made no requests, they struggled to think of what to do and how to please Sansa. They were her servants, not Margaery's. They would be turned away from the guards and scurry back to Sansa. It wouldn't surprise Margaery to learn that Jon's sister learned of what had happened before his other men.
He was neglecting his duties by remaining here. It was a matter that Margaery should fret over, sending him from the room and back to the great hall where he might act as king. Sansa likely wouldn't wait for his return and would attempt to reside in his place. The power struggle between she and Davos would be amusing, if it didn't create more problems. Jon's presence would rectify the matter, but Margaery was greedy and not about to relinquish the day she had been promised. There were so many places in her room that they could rut and chase that illusive pleasure. She wanted to lay with him in her bed, she wanted to couple by the fire and she wanted to be pressed against the wall. After so long in searching for him, without knowing she had been searching, she needed the day before she'd consider the outside world again.
"Mmm," she smiled lazily, "It doesn't seem to take much to make you come." That to her was a great triumph. She knew how to please men and had done so before, but this, as it was in many ways, was different. She kissed him in return, gently running her thumb against the length of his jaw. "I know you are. We are promised in ways that can't be undone." It was greater than a marriage. Even if Arianne became his queen, their vows wouldn't come near to Jon and Margaery's. She shivered at the feeling of his teeth, her eyes becoming smoky and black. "I expected nothing less." The idea of rutting, even when half asleep was as exciting as coupling in the busy halls or as they supped. "Better to end my day or begin it with you inside me than to suffer that emptiness again."
At least her nights would be full of him. She couldn't return to that quiet or her cold bed. She had her fill of loneliness and sorrow.
"It was the same for me. I didn't know where I would got at the end of my convalescence. I thought that I would simply be kept her as a prisoner with some flimsy excuse or married to one of your men. I didn't expect this." There was still no guarantee but that threat came from outside forces. She knew that Jon wouldn't listen to them nor would he let anyone tear her from his side.
She pressed her brow to his, gently caressing his hair and breathed in the smell of them. The rich perfume of lust and sex filled her nose, but more than that, there was him. He had a musk that she couldn't describe, made up of horses, wolves and leather. She only knew that she would crave it for the rest of her life and it would do nothing but remind her of home. "There is no going back," she whispered again. "You are the very beating of my heart. I love you more than those words can convey. I am yours and only yours."
She grinned at his rising desire, shifting beneath him, her knee brushing between his legs unintentionally. "Then we are truly well suited. Mine is returning as well."