Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.
A/N: For the purpose of this story, Sansa is eighteen and Margaery is nineteen. This is before Sansa gains more strength and confidence, it's more of how she acted in King's Landing. Also, sorry about the mistakes in the last chapter, I was editing it and I never checked it before posting. I'll fix it someday. I know this chapter is soooo late, and honestly I don't really have much of an excuse. Writing smut scared me. Please don't judge me too harshly, I've never written anything like this before. If smut offends you, skip this chapter, or skip the end of the chapter.
Margaery laughed at the confusion etched into Sansa's expression. "I took a small traveling party from King's Landing to be here after the wedding. After all, I had to congratulate my brother on marrying such a beautiful bride. The journey didn't take as long as I anticipated."
Sansa looked her over. The queen was, indeed, wearing a traveling cloak and seemed somewhat worn out. "You came straight here?" She asked. "What about the feast?"
"Only drunk men remain at feasts this late," she giggled. "Come, I am exhausted from my travels. Walk me to the King's Tower." Her tone took on a teasing aspect. "Or would you rather stay in the Godswood?"
Sansa resisted the urge to question Margaery further. Instead, she let the woman take her arm and they walked through the gardens with nothing but the sound of the late summer insects and a song Margaery hummed softly to accompany them. They passed the scenes from the wedding – the rows of chairs still arranged around the podium, flower petals scattered on the grass, banners fluttering lightly in the soft breeze. For a fleeting second Sansa pictured a different Tyrell standing next to her, vowing to love her forever.
They skirted around the long yellow patches of light falling from the tall windows of the castle. Instead, Margaery led them to a smaller door at the edge of a tower. A guard let them in without question when Margaery gave him her infamous demure smile. From there, they climbed a set of spiraling stairs so tall that Sansa was afraid she would begin breathing heavily in an unflattering manner. Finally, they reached a landing that Margaery seemed to know. Soon they were back in a hallway familiar to Sansa. It was the corridor that had branched off between the guest tower and the King's Tower. Only this time, a different Tyrell led her in a different direction.
"Did my brother show you the King's Tower?" Margaery asked. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "I'm sure he didn't, it wouldn't be proper. He's always such a gentleman to the ladies. With the men, not so much." She giggled.
"Won't he be expecting me?" Sansa asked timidly. She couldn't bare to call Loras her husband.
"It's the King's Tower, isn't it?" Margaery smirked. "The guards know that the Queen is here. Loras will find another bed tonight. Believe me, my dear Sansa, he will wait to consummate this marriage." She pushed open the heavy door leading into the tower. A servant knelt as they entered. She had apparently known about Margaery's arrival and prepared a bath while the girls spoke in the gardens. Margaery excused the servant while Sansa hung back.
The door clicked shut and suddenly the room was silent. The King's Tower was far from the dining hall, meaning no sounds of the feast made their way into the peaceful room. There was only soft firelight illuminating the chamber. In the silence, Sansa found herself wandering around the room, taking it in, just to have something to do. The main section consisted of extensive bookcases lining the circular room and interrupted by occasional windows and a couple fireplaces. A round table rested in the center. On the north end of the circle, the bookcases parted and a small step led up to another circular chamber with a bed against the north wall. Windows lined the room in a semicircle sliding from the west side to the east. A bathtub rested in the center of the room.
"Are you tired?" Margaery murmured to Sansa's right, causing her to jump. She'd almost forgotten she was in the presence of the Queen. Margaery undid the clasps keeping her travelling cloak on her shoulders and let it slide onto the floor, regarding Sansa with an unfamiliar glint in her eye.
"A little, your grace," Sansa told her, watching the cloak settle on the floor. "It's been a long day."
"Hmm, yes," Margaery said thoughtfully. She turned away from Sansa and faced a desk topped with a mirror. "Sansa, could you help me undo this necklace?"
"Of course." The redhead moved to stand behind her queen and raised her fingers to unclasp a necklace bearing the Tyrell rose. She glanced up and Margaery's gaze caught hers in the mirror.
"I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look in your wedding dress," Margaery told her softly. She dropped her eyes to look over their reflections in the mirror, her own travelling dress paling in comparison to Sansa's gown.
"Thank you, your grace."
"Could you remove the pins from my hair?"
Sansa did so silently. She slowly removed the pins, watching Margaery's hair tumble free with a strange feeling that wasn't quite jealousy. If she had known better, she would have recognized it as longing.
Margaery captured Sansa's gaze again. She murmured, "It would be a shame if no one loved a bride on her wedding night,"
This confused Sansa. "You said your brother would find another bed."
"I never said the husband had to love the bride." She didn't make Sansa respond. Instead, she moved so that Sansa was closer to the mirror and she stood behind the bride. Margaery's hands found one of Sansa's and she lifted it, slowly removing the rings that adorned the Stark girl's fingers, then her glove, keeping Sansa's gaze the whole time. Sansa didn't falter. She only watched.
Carefully, to test the waters, Margaery brought Sansa's hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. Sansa didn't stop her.
Margaery slid her fingers up Sansa's right arm, across her shoulders, and down her left arm. She repeated the process with her left hand. Still, Sansa didn't protest.
The Queen's fingers found the clasp to the elegant Stark necklace resting on Sansa's collarbones. She undid the clasp and placed the necklace on a nearby table. She then gingerly kissed the back of Sansa's neck. Sansa tipped her head, closing her eyes and lifting her lips into a gentle smile.
Margaery lifted her gaze and pulled away from Sansa's skin to find that her efforts had elicited a reward in the form of pleasure. Sansa's eyes opened in response to the absence of lips on her skin and the smile melted away.
"Did I do something?" She asked, worried.
"Yes, but the right thing." Margaery smirked at her. She reached behind herself and undid the ties of her dress. It slid to the floor next to her cloak.
Sansa's eyes widened. She couldn't stop herself from turning to get a better view of the beauty in front of her. The Queen's lips were painted into a confident smirk and her head was tipped forward slightly, emphasizing the lust in her eyes. Her hair, somewhat knotted from being tied up for travel, fell over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts. Her legs were long and shapely. Sansa didn't have any experience with other women, but even so, she knew Margaery was a rare beauty.
"Does this please you?" The Queen asked.
"Yes, your grace, but I…" Sansa stammered slightly, lost for words. "I never…"
"If you aren't comfortable, I won't ask you to continue. But I want this, Sansa. I want you." Her words encouraged Sansa. As she spoke, the Queen stepped closer to her would-be lover and gently rested her hands on each of her shoulders. She placed light kisses on one cheek, then the other. Then her lips found Sansa's and captured them in delicate kiss. When Sansa responded, she deepened the embrace. Both girls were short of breath when Margaery pulled back ever so slightly.
Margaery captured Sansa's gaze in hers. Sansa found herself becoming lost in the Queen's light brown eyes, those eyes that were holding her own with such intensity.
"May I remove your dress?" Margaery whispered. Sansa took a deep breath and nodded.
With careful movements of her thin fingers, Margaery untied the laces that held the wedding dress to Sansa's chest and watched the fabric fall to the floor eagerly. Sansa stepped out of the pool of satin while Margaery knelt to pick it up and laid it gently on the nearest chair. She turned back to Sansa, now dressed only in her smallclothes.
"May I?" Margaery asked again, motioning toward the slip that covered Sansa's slim frame.
"Yes."
The Queen pulled this small nuisance off Sansa's shoulders and let it fall to the floor with less care than she gave to the wedding gown. She stepped back to admire her lover's beauty.
Sansa's skin was still snowy white despite the amount of time she'd spent in the south. She was a northern beauty disguised as a Tully. Her famous red hair rested more easily on her shoulders than Margaery's did, having been groomed to perfection before being pinned up in the style of her southern wedding. Her bright blue eyes and high cheekbones highlighted the elegance that Margaery was sure Sansa had had since she was young. Though her eyes held a subtle hint of worry, she seemed hopeful for an intimate encounter with the young queen.
Margaery's eyes travelled downward and took in Sansa's body with lustful appreciation. The new Lady Tyrell's body was nearly absent of the curves the Queen was known for but her straight frame was beautiful nonetheless. Her snowy white skin gave way to a patch of dark red hair between her legs. Yes, she was definitely a northern beauty. Margaery hummed her approval.
"Am I alright, your grace?" Sansa asked timidly.
"More than so, my dear." With slow, tantalizing steps, Margaery closed the space between them and took each of Sansa's hands in hers. "Would you like to bathe with me, my lady?"
When Sansa gave her consent, Margaery led her to the bath. She let Sansa enter first. The redhead reclined in the water, tense at first, then relaxing when her still-dry queen leaned over her and whispered a command to relax in her ear. Sansa's eyes slid shut. She felt the water ripple when the Queen entered the bath. She felt the Queen's fingers running over her skin, barely touching it, as she moved her hand from the base of her neck. She felt the Queen's lips on the skin of her jaw. She felt the Queen's fingers circle her nipples. She felt the Queen's fingers trace lazy patterns across her stomach. She felt the Queen's fingers brush over her inner thighs. She felt the Queen's fingers slide between her legs and enter her there.
"Oh," Sansa breathed. She wasn't sure if it was a sound of pain or pleasure. Perhaps both. Nothing had ever been there before.
Margaery distracted her with a kiss. "Relax, Sansa," she murmured against Sansa's lips as two of her fingers moved slowly inside her. "Listen to my voice. You are beautiful, you know. So beautiful." Her fingers continued to move as she spoke. "Some girls would kill for your hair. You'd best be careful or the cook at Highgarden will cut it off when you're not looking. She's always complained about wanting hair like yours." This earned a laugh from Sansa. Well, that and Margaery's efforts between her legs, which were feeling better and better by the moment.
"And your eyes. I've never seen such eyes. Gods, you must have been blessed by the Maiden to earn those." Sighs were escaping Sansa's lips now. The combined sensations of Margaery's sweet breaths in her ear and her skilled fingers between her legs were overwhelming her. "I've only ever seen their color matched when I visited Dorne as a girl." Her fingers quickened their pace and Margaery's other hand found the sensitive nub above Sansa's entrance. Sansa moaned, barely realizing she was creating the noise. "There were pools with aqua tiles in the Old Palace of Sandstone with that beautiful color. Even so, your eyes are more dazzling than those pools will ever be."
The growing pleasure deep in her belly was coming to a peak. The warmth and scents of the bathwater, the rippling of the water over her skin with the movement of Margaery's arms, the magic Margaery was doing between her legs, Margaery's lips blessing her skin with kisses. She cried out loudly and bucked her hips as she climaxed. Margaery laughed, kissing her lips while pleasure washed over her body and slowly ebbed.
"That is what a wedding night is meant to be," the Queen murmured. She stood and helped her lover out of the bath. Gently, she dried Sansa with cloths. Sansa was exhausted from the events of the day. She hardly thought about returning the favor and pleasuring the Queen. Not that Margaery minded. She was tired too, and this was Sansa's night. The bride was barely suppressing a yawn, she could tell, so once she was dry Margaery led her to the bed and pulled the sheets aside. Sansa gratefully fell into their warmth and let her limbs become entangled with Margaery's when the Queen joined her. The redhead was soon asleep.
Margaery only wished her own wedding night had gone as well.