It was better Jon be king, even more so because he did not seem to want it. In all the variations of power that Margaery had seen, no man ever seemed able to resist its allure or the lust it inspired. Even Tommen, to some degree, had let himself become swept away by power, though that had been both at her urging and Cersei's. How different things might have been for the realm had they someone like Jon to act as king. There was far too much corruption, far too much greed. Jon was a brief ray of light that pierced through the fog. He was unlike the other men, perhaps more so because of his understanding of life and death. The temporal goods never seemed to matter in comparison.
It was in these rare moments of quiet and calm that Jon brought on that she considered herself beyond the present. It was only in his company that she felt safe enough to contemplate what she wanted or what she desired to do. There had been a grim acceptance, as she told him, that she'd have to accept a certain amount of conditions for her upkeep. There would be a husband, children, and some measure of claim on High Garden that would come under Stark control. She had prepared herself for that eventuality, but debated on what she wanted beyond that. There were so many years ahead, now that she had been denied the chance to perish alongside those she loved. How would she fill the hours and the emptiness of her life? Yet even during that contemplation, she never allowed herself to imagine or entertain the idea that the King of the North would be in her arms and sharing her bed. That had seemed beyond her capabilities or energies, existing in the realm of the woman she was before.
Strangely, despite her reluctance, it was many of the serving women (Sansa's creatures) that seemed to suggest what Margaery was aiming for. The whispers normally came when she feigned sleep, listening instead for news that was not usually offered, save for Jon. The women murmured between themselves, creating a measure of speculation about whether or not the lady that had been wed to three kings wished to make it four. Every gesture or word she offered Jon was analyzed, blown out of proportion and distorted beyond the original meaning. After a time, Margaery began to question herself as well, wondering how deeply her ambition ran and if it had escaped her noticed. Hesitation and doubt replaced her otherwise friendly nature with Jon, afraid to lead him into a place that neither of them were prepared to go. She didn't want to risk losing his friendship, not over the rumors of the servants and her own wayward desires.
She smiled, pulled back to the present and the man in her arms. He was the reality she never contemplated and could never have hoped for. He was hers, completely and utterly hers. If the servants gossiped now, it was entirely intentional. "I would never issue a challenge to my lord," she teased him in return, slowly dragging her fingers up his back. "I think I prefer discovering just how quickly I can bring you to culmination and which positions bring it about the quickest." She was on an expedition, determined to learn everything about Jon that she could, aside from his life and his preferences. She wanted to know the cravings of his body and what would garner the best responses. She could please him in the mental and spiritual, but she wanted to be expert in pleasing him in the physical. "You have so many promises to keep, are you certain you will not lose track of them all?" She asked, sucking in a sharp breath as his lips traced over her neck.
That ravenous hunger came screaming to the forefront, blocking out her thoughts and the sounds of the world around them. A brush of skin and she felt herself trembling under his grasp, sweat beginning to bead along her wrists and brow, as her heart began to hammer in her chest. "I assure you, I will not be the only one to wake in such a way." She could almost guarantee it. It was near predictable, not requiring much foresight. Given how so small a touch made her near frantic with need, she didn't doubt that the heat from his body next to her would do the same. "We must have a care though," she whispered, even as her hands became preoccupied with exploring him and touching the various parts of him that had garnered a reaction before. "We risk you becoming derelict in your duties." While she issued the warning, there was a voice in her head that encouraged them to do so. Why should the world have more of Jon's attention when she had it for only a brief moment? She had gone near her entire life without him, the world could afford to wait. It matched his possessive words, the look in her eyes repeating them silently. "You have me completely to yourself. You are all I have and want in the world. I will never let you be taken from me, not by anyone." Sister, wife, councilors, they had no claim on him.
She felt herself moaning the moment his nails dragged over her scars, the stimulation was as enticing and maddening as the feel of his lips on her nipple. She arched once more, pressing her thigh roughly between his legs and allowing him more access to her breast. "I doubt you need to try very hard. Much like you, it takes very little from you to stoke my craving back to life."
no subject
It was in these rare moments of quiet and calm that Jon brought on that she considered herself beyond the present. It was only in his company that she felt safe enough to contemplate what she wanted or what she desired to do. There had been a grim acceptance, as she told him, that she'd have to accept a certain amount of conditions for her upkeep. There would be a husband, children, and some measure of claim on High Garden that would come under Stark control. She had prepared herself for that eventuality, but debated on what she wanted beyond that. There were so many years ahead, now that she had been denied the chance to perish alongside those she loved. How would she fill the hours and the emptiness of her life? Yet even during that contemplation, she never allowed herself to imagine or entertain the idea that the King of the North would be in her arms and sharing her bed. That had seemed beyond her capabilities or energies, existing in the realm of the woman she was before.
Strangely, despite her reluctance, it was many of the serving women (Sansa's creatures) that seemed to suggest what Margaery was aiming for. The whispers normally came when she feigned sleep, listening instead for news that was not usually offered, save for Jon. The women murmured between themselves, creating a measure of speculation about whether or not the lady that had been wed to three kings wished to make it four. Every gesture or word she offered Jon was analyzed, blown out of proportion and distorted beyond the original meaning. After a time, Margaery began to question herself as well, wondering how deeply her ambition ran and if it had escaped her noticed. Hesitation and doubt replaced her otherwise friendly nature with Jon, afraid to lead him into a place that neither of them were prepared to go. She didn't want to risk losing his friendship, not over the rumors of the servants and her own wayward desires.
She smiled, pulled back to the present and the man in her arms. He was the reality she never contemplated and could never have hoped for. He was hers, completely and utterly hers. If the servants gossiped now, it was entirely intentional. "I would never issue a challenge to my lord," she teased him in return, slowly dragging her fingers up his back. "I think I prefer discovering just how quickly I can bring you to culmination and which positions bring it about the quickest." She was on an expedition, determined to learn everything about Jon that she could, aside from his life and his preferences. She wanted to know the cravings of his body and what would garner the best responses. She could please him in the mental and spiritual, but she wanted to be expert in pleasing him in the physical. "You have so many promises to keep, are you certain you will not lose track of them all?" She asked, sucking in a sharp breath as his lips traced over her neck.
That ravenous hunger came screaming to the forefront, blocking out her thoughts and the sounds of the world around them. A brush of skin and she felt herself trembling under his grasp, sweat beginning to bead along her wrists and brow, as her heart began to hammer in her chest. "I assure you, I will not be the only one to wake in such a way." She could almost guarantee it. It was near predictable, not requiring much foresight. Given how so small a touch made her near frantic with need, she didn't doubt that the heat from his body next to her would do the same. "We must have a care though," she whispered, even as her hands became preoccupied with exploring him and touching the various parts of him that had garnered a reaction before. "We risk you becoming derelict in your duties." While she issued the warning, there was a voice in her head that encouraged them to do so. Why should the world have more of Jon's attention when she had it for only a brief moment? She had gone near her entire life without him, the world could afford to wait. It matched his possessive words, the look in her eyes repeating them silently. "You have me completely to yourself. You are all I have and want in the world. I will never let you be taken from me, not by anyone." Sister, wife, councilors, they had no claim on him.
She felt herself moaning the moment his nails dragged over her scars, the stimulation was as enticing and maddening as the feel of his lips on her nipple. She arched once more, pressing her thigh roughly between his legs and allowing him more access to her breast. "I doubt you need to try very hard. Much like you, it takes very little from you to stoke my craving back to life."