It was hard to think of such things and believe herself to be remarkable in those ways. She saw her scars and only saw the horror and pain she endured. Yet given how beautiful she saw the scars on Jon's body, it shouldn't be any wonder to her that Jon might find something to admire and love about hers. It was more than desire and pity, it was the blatant reminder of what they had suffered and what connected them, though she was not fully aware of it yet. The more time that passed, the more days she spent in his arms, she would begin to recognize the physical marks that unified their souls. For now, she could see little past her wounded vanity. Given how serious the scars were, it would take her time before she could feel beautiful again.
Save for those moments when Jon looked at her as he was now. She basked under that heated gaze, lounging like a cat with a full belly. She stretched on the bed, raising her rear slightly higher as a silent promise. Resting her chin in her hands, she watched him as well, mesmerized by the sight of him stroking himself and seeking pleasure while they simply lay against the blankets. She could feel the heat rolling from between her legs, indicating how much he was able to incite her desires by sight alone. It was through these small gestures that she forgot the state of the room or the discomfort the unfamiliar surroundings might give her. He made this room warm and safe, even while they were in the height of their bestial urges. In the end, it mattered very little if her chamber was grand and opulent, as she was used to. So long as it had Jon in it, she would never notice.
It was the guards though that often unnerved her. For a time, she couldn't be certain whether they were keeping her within or keeping others out. She never attempted to leave, save when invited by others (and even then, it was very rare). She instead kept to herself and left the unanswered question hang in the air. There was little doubt in her mind that with what they had heard, their treatment of her would be different than what it might have been before. They had never given her cause for complaint or bothered her, but matters were different now. She wasn't a tentative prisoner or a possible guest, she was Jon's woman. Once she was moved into his rooms, she knew there would be some that would try to cultivate a friendship with her. Unless Sansa somehow challenged Margaery's standing. With Littlefinger in Winterfell, it was hard to predict what Sansa might do. She was learning at the side of a master, someone that Margaery trusted little and liked even less.
Unable to resist, she reached out to cover his hand with her own, joining him as his strokes moved lazily over his shaft. Her were as dark and deep as his, heated by the touch of him and the knowledge of the pleasure she was helping to give him, as well as the pleasure that was soon to come. "I should like to see you play games. You were always so dour when you visited me. I don't think I truly ever saw you smile until today. I won't let you slip back into that brooding, not when there is so much we can enjoy with each other." Now that they had found each other, they needed to live and fuck and take joy from life. It would be the first time they could manage in a long while, roused to the challenge by the other. "What sort of games do you have in mind? I am curious to see whether they will be as difficult as the one I gave you before."
Davos was at least trustworthy, a rare compliment that she would give anyone who served Stannis. He seemed to be a good man, rigidly loyal and unlikely to partake in much intrigue. Better for her, as it meant he would be less likely to challenge her place by Jon's side. He might view it as an affront to her honor, but she doubted he would voice many objections. "I'm not suggesting that at all, my king." She teased him, giving the hand that encompassed his cock a small squeeze. "For your well being, you must rest and find something to occupy your small hours with." Her smile became wicked and tempting. "I think you would enjoy that. Whatever sort of quiet, private man you were before, I think there is a part of you now that wants your guards and men to know that you have been satisfied by me." That gleam in his eyes at the mention of taking her in the great hall was indication enough.
"Better still for everyone to march further south as soon as possible. You will need to act before the weather changes. I doubt the Lannisters or the Freys would expect any army to assemble so quickly after a previous battle. Speed should be your weapon. It will catch them off guard and leave them scrambling to catch up." So long as it was planned speed. They could risk being as impetuous and reckless as Cersei had shown herself to be. "While your men march towards the Riverlands, you could make a visit to Dorne by boat. It would allow you to finalize the alliance and return before the first attack is made to the Freys." She didn't doubt that Jon preferred to join his men in battle. He wouldn't be Renly, contented to sit and watch, waiting for favorable news safely tucked away from the bloodshed.
"If Jamie were able to fall so easily into that trap." Margaery warned him. "He's more seasoned now. Whatever skills he had before, he is no longer brash and headstrong. I knew him, I spoke to him in King's Landing, I witnessed him around Tommen. He is a different man than he was before." Losing his hand seemed to humble him, but more than that, it was the influence of Brienne and her honor that seemed to change him. He was no longer like Cersei and there were moments that Margaery had wondered whether or not she could trust the Kingslayer. When he had arrived at the head of a Tyrell army before the Sept, intent on freeing her from the grasp of the Sparrows, she had almost believed him to have a shred of decency and honor in him. Perhaps it was from him that Tommen received his goodness? There were few others he would actually learn it from.
She leaned into his touch, relieved to hear that assurance. If he might be stuck south until spring, she preferred to be at his side, no matter the hardship. "I don't ever want to be separated from you." She said solemnly, placing a kiss against the palm of his hand. "Not for a day, not until spring, not ever. I don't know if I could exist without you at my side. I think I would crumble away into dust." It was bleak, but true. He gave her life again, he gave her hope. She couldn't lose that, not even for a just cause as a battle against the Lannisters and the Freys.
She pressed her brow to his, closing her eyes as she basked in the feel of him. "I love you and will endure anything, so long as I can be with you."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2016-12-31 11:29 pm (UTC)Save for those moments when Jon looked at her as he was now. She basked under that heated gaze, lounging like a cat with a full belly. She stretched on the bed, raising her rear slightly higher as a silent promise. Resting her chin in her hands, she watched him as well, mesmerized by the sight of him stroking himself and seeking pleasure while they simply lay against the blankets. She could feel the heat rolling from between her legs, indicating how much he was able to incite her desires by sight alone. It was through these small gestures that she forgot the state of the room or the discomfort the unfamiliar surroundings might give her. He made this room warm and safe, even while they were in the height of their bestial urges. In the end, it mattered very little if her chamber was grand and opulent, as she was used to. So long as it had Jon in it, she would never notice.
It was the guards though that often unnerved her. For a time, she couldn't be certain whether they were keeping her within or keeping others out. She never attempted to leave, save when invited by others (and even then, it was very rare). She instead kept to herself and left the unanswered question hang in the air. There was little doubt in her mind that with what they had heard, their treatment of her would be different than what it might have been before. They had never given her cause for complaint or bothered her, but matters were different now. She wasn't a tentative prisoner or a possible guest, she was Jon's woman. Once she was moved into his rooms, she knew there would be some that would try to cultivate a friendship with her. Unless Sansa somehow challenged Margaery's standing. With Littlefinger in Winterfell, it was hard to predict what Sansa might do. She was learning at the side of a master, someone that Margaery trusted little and liked even less.
Unable to resist, she reached out to cover his hand with her own, joining him as his strokes moved lazily over his shaft. Her were as dark and deep as his, heated by the touch of him and the knowledge of the pleasure she was helping to give him, as well as the pleasure that was soon to come. "I should like to see you play games. You were always so dour when you visited me. I don't think I truly ever saw you smile until today. I won't let you slip back into that brooding, not when there is so much we can enjoy with each other." Now that they had found each other, they needed to live and fuck and take joy from life. It would be the first time they could manage in a long while, roused to the challenge by the other. "What sort of games do you have in mind? I am curious to see whether they will be as difficult as the one I gave you before."
Davos was at least trustworthy, a rare compliment that she would give anyone who served Stannis. He seemed to be a good man, rigidly loyal and unlikely to partake in much intrigue. Better for her, as it meant he would be less likely to challenge her place by Jon's side. He might view it as an affront to her honor, but she doubted he would voice many objections. "I'm not suggesting that at all, my king." She teased him, giving the hand that encompassed his cock a small squeeze. "For your well being, you must rest and find something to occupy your small hours with." Her smile became wicked and tempting. "I think you would enjoy that. Whatever sort of quiet, private man you were before, I think there is a part of you now that wants your guards and men to know that you have been satisfied by me." That gleam in his eyes at the mention of taking her in the great hall was indication enough.
"Better still for everyone to march further south as soon as possible. You will need to act before the weather changes. I doubt the Lannisters or the Freys would expect any army to assemble so quickly after a previous battle. Speed should be your weapon. It will catch them off guard and leave them scrambling to catch up." So long as it was planned speed. They could risk being as impetuous and reckless as Cersei had shown herself to be. "While your men march towards the Riverlands, you could make a visit to Dorne by boat. It would allow you to finalize the alliance and return before the first attack is made to the Freys." She didn't doubt that Jon preferred to join his men in battle. He wouldn't be Renly, contented to sit and watch, waiting for favorable news safely tucked away from the bloodshed.
"If Jamie were able to fall so easily into that trap." Margaery warned him. "He's more seasoned now. Whatever skills he had before, he is no longer brash and headstrong. I knew him, I spoke to him in King's Landing, I witnessed him around Tommen. He is a different man than he was before." Losing his hand seemed to humble him, but more than that, it was the influence of Brienne and her honor that seemed to change him. He was no longer like Cersei and there were moments that Margaery had wondered whether or not she could trust the Kingslayer. When he had arrived at the head of a Tyrell army before the Sept, intent on freeing her from the grasp of the Sparrows, she had almost believed him to have a shred of decency and honor in him. Perhaps it was from him that Tommen received his goodness? There were few others he would actually learn it from.
She leaned into his touch, relieved to hear that assurance. If he might be stuck south until spring, she preferred to be at his side, no matter the hardship. "I don't ever want to be separated from you." She said solemnly, placing a kiss against the palm of his hand. "Not for a day, not until spring, not ever. I don't know if I could exist without you at my side. I think I would crumble away into dust." It was bleak, but true. He gave her life again, he gave her hope. She couldn't lose that, not even for a just cause as a battle against the Lannisters and the Freys.
She pressed her brow to his, closing her eyes as she basked in the feel of him. "I love you and will endure anything, so long as I can be with you."