A/N: Hello, Dear Readers. Thanks for the feedback and new follows. Sorry for the wait. I have not been well. I hope you all enjoy this.

"Why do I always feel like we're wasting the day away?" asks Lady Michonne as she reclines in the chair. Attendants kneel before her and her friend, Sasha, as they prepare the two ladies to have their pedicures.

"Do you still hate being so pampered?" Sasha asks as she gets comfortable in her seat.

Lady Michonne sighs loudly, and then shrugs her shoulders.

"I never said I hated it," she responds in earnest. "We all grew up pampered, didn't we? I guess I figure there are better things I can be doing than sitting here while Attendants paint my toenails."

Sasha erupts in laughter. She has always enjoyed Her Ladyship's dry humor and wit. The two had been steady friends since Sasha arrived several years ago. She was younger than Lady Michonne, and was offered an official position at Court, and they formed a fast friendship.

"What have you been doing while I was away?" asks Sasha, curious to know if the rumors currently circulating around the Citadel were true. Curious to know if her friend really had been spending time with a Tribute. It really was not in Her Ladyship's interests to keep any sort of extra-marital relationship going. Lord John's jealousy would not allow it, at any rate. Still, Sasha wondered what was going on.

"Training the children," says Michonne, as she glances down at the Attendant who had begun washing her feet. "Being a dutiful wife and leader; preparing for my husband's birthday."

"What about the Festival of Liberalia?" Sasha presses. "I missed all of the fanfare. Was it much different to last year?"

"Not really," she offers. "Much of the same, really. John does like what he likes."

"Okay," says Sasha. "It's just that I heard there was an interesting Tribute who came to the Citadel. Heard that he's quite the prize; older, so probably more experienced."

"Have the ladies of the court been gossiping again?" Michonne queries.

"Kind of," says Sasha.

"What have they been saying?"

"That you've got a new pet and that he's exceptional. Is it true?"

"It is," Michonne replies.

"Lord John let you keep him?"

"He did."

"When do I get to meet him?"

"Well, he'll be my Attendant at dinner this evening," Michonne offers. "So, I expect you'll get to see him then."

…..

The tapping of Lady Michonne's shoes echoes through the empty corridor. Her perfume fills the space as it trails behind her. She walks with determination, holding her head high. She is commanding. Rick lifts his gaze when he hears her footfalls. Her eyes are locked on his as he stands attentively beside her chamber doors with his hands at his back. She offers him a smile, one he cannot help but return. When she is near enough to him, he dips his head.

"My Lady," he offers in greeting, before stepping aside.

She holds out a key, and he unlocks the door for her, before holding it open. Her Ladyship steps inside, and her Tribute follows. He kneels on the cushion before her throne and waits with his hand extended. The key sits in his upwards-facing palm. Lady Michonne takes it from him and returns it to her keychain. She takes a seat and then looks at Rick.

"Was your day fruitful?" she asks.

"Yes, My Lady" he answers. "Training was good. I missed seeing you today. I missed you."

A smile creeps across her lips as she says, "Good."

She studies him and then tells him to stand. He does as he is told. She takes in his appearance. He is wearing the ceremonial clothing of Servants of the Citadel. He was dressed neatly in black slacks and a blue tunic with the crest of Lord John's House fixed to left, just over his heart. A belt is fitted to his waist, and his hair is slicked back away from his face. He looks handsome, she muses. Quite delicious. She wonders if they have much time to play before dinner. Glancing to the timepiece set atop her mantle, she sees that they do not. She would much prefer to have more time with her Tribute so decides not to initiate anything with him. Even though the persistent throbbing between her legs grows stronger.

"You look very pleasing to the eye," she offers, as her gaze wanders from his face down to his crotch. "Very handsome."

"Thank you, My Lady," he replies. "I always want to look good for you."

"Step closer," she commands, and he does so right away.

She stands up and moves toward him. She presses her hand to his chest where Lord John's insignia is. He forces the Servants to wear his crest so that their own Houses and heraldry do not matter. So that they remember to whom they belong while they are inside of his walls. Lady Michonne has not seen her own crest since before she came to court at the Citadel.

She runs her fingers over the small emblem. It is grey in color and shaped like a shield. There are two keys crossing one another in the top right corner; a sword in the one adjacent to the keys; a flaming heart next to the keys; and a kneeling man in the other. Lady Michonne does not know if Lord John changed the crest after he overthrew his father. She has never thought to ask.

She lays her palm flat over Rick's heart, and then says, "I find it funny that he calls you common."

"Why is that, My Lady?" he asks.

"Because he throws it around like it's some huge insult to you," she says. "When he doesn't even realize that you're not a commoner at all."

She slides her hand from over his heart, and slowly brings it up to his neck. He swallows hard and she watches his protruding Adam's apple. She then cups his jaw in her hand and stares into his eyes.

"There's so much he doesn't know about you," she whispers. "He doesn't know that you're Noble. He doesn't know where you come from. He doesn't know what you're capable of. He doesn't know what you do to me."

"What do I do to you, My Lady?" he asks, feeling brave.

She gifts him with yet another smile.

"You make my skin feel warm," she offers as she runs her thumb over his bottom lip. Rick feels his cock straining against his slacks. His hands tremble as he fights the urge to reach out and touch her. She inches her face closer to his, her eyes falling to his swollen lips.

"You make me feel safe," she says softly as she brings her hand to his hair; she threads her fingers through his neat curls and brings her mouth closer to his and whispers, "You make my pussy wet."

The Tribute grows stiff as his cock twitches. Her Ladyship presses a kiss to his lips. It is soft at first, and then she deepens it. Their tongues and lips fit together perfectly in a heated, messy kiss. Rick muses he could kiss Lady Michonne all day and he would die a happy man. He misses her lips immediately when she breaks the kiss and sits back down on her throne.

"You're such a good boy," she says with a smile. "I have something for you."

Rick kneels before her, without being told to. She feels a sense of pride deep within; proud that he is so obedient; proud that she holds such dominion over him. He glances up at her with a look of reverence and anticipation. She strokes his hair and fixes it back into place, before reaching down the side of her seat to retrieve something. His eyes light up when he sees her beautiful gift.

Lady Michonne presents Rick with a small silver chain that has a clasp at one end, and a quaint leather loop at the other. It is around three feet long and sturdy; it looks very pretty in the sparse light of her chambers. She fastens the clasp to his left wrist cuff, and then threads her slender hand through the leather loop at the other end. Rick is tethered to Lady Michonne. When she moves, he has no option but to follow. He feels excitement stir in his trousers at the sight of the chain. A visual representation of her ownership of him. However, he silently muses that such a chain is unnecessary as he would willingly stay at her side without it.

…..

The private dining room is ordinary; it is nice, but by no means grand. The room is candlelit from above and the elaborate chandelier casts interesting shadows all about the space. An arrangement of freshly picked flowers sits in the middle of the small, round table. Sasha is already seated at the table when Lady Michonne enters with her Tribute in tow. The two women embrace before Rick draws out the chair for his Mistress to sit.

"Whatever it is, it smells good," says Sasha as the dining room Attendant places the napkin to her lap. "I hope you told the kitchen staff that I need a hearty meal."

Rick mirrors the gesture and lays the napkin across Lady Michonne's lap. He does well not to get tangled in the chain that is attached to each of them. After pouring water for his Lady, he promptly kneels beside her. Sasha watches him with amusement. Lady Michonne has him well-trained.

"I did," Michonne offers with a smile. "Nothing but the best for my Companion."

"Thank you," Sasha says. "I'm glad we got to do this. It's going to be mayhem in a couple of days."

"Me, too," Michonne replies as the Attendant brings their entrées and places them on the table. "Everything will be so hectic. There's so much that needs doing."

Sasha nods her head and then asks, "How's the Tourney planning?"

"It's coming along nicely. The youngsters are ready for their exhibition bout, and the main event is looking like it'll be a stunner."

"Yes," Sasha says gleefully. "I heard there's a woman competing? Is that true?"

"You mean Maggie," Lady Michonne offers. "She's a wonderful fighter. When she first got here, she got into it with another Tribute. Some brute who showed her disrespect. She put him in his place."

"That's great," says an elated Sasha. "I can't wait to see her in action."

"Neither can I. I think she's quite a…" just then, the door opens and Lord John steps inside.

"Forgive my intrusion, Ladies," he offers.

"My Lord," they both reply.

"Is something the matter?" asks Michonne as she gives her husband a questioning stare. His gaze falls to the Tribute kneeling beside his wife.

"Not at all," he says, through clenched teeth. "I just came to check if everything was to your liking, but I think I might join you."

"My Lord?" she asks. "I thought Lady Sasha and I might be alone for the evening."

John grabs a chair from the wall, and places it next to Michonne. He glares at Rick a moment, and then brings his steely gaze back to his wife.

"But, you're not alone, My Love," he offers, gesturing toward Rick.

She nods her head, and says, "Of course. Forgive me, My Lord."

He reaches for her hand, and tries to lift it. He notices the chain that is joining his wife to the Tribute. He is unimpressed.

"Remove this," he says flatly. "I cannot even move to hold my wife's hand."

She goes to protest, but thinks twice of it in the company of others, before sliding the leather strap from off of her wrist and over her hand. She passes it to the Tribute before Lord John entwines his fingers with hers.

"Leave," he says to Rick, without looking in his direction.

Rick hesitates a moment as he looks to his Mistress.

"Leave," she says, before lifting her gaze and locking eyes with Lord John.

…..

The light from the blazing fire casts shadows on those sitting around it. Everyone has been training hard for the Tourney, so they appreciate a quiet moment beside the fire. Rick approaches, still dressed in his servant's attire. His fellow fighters take in his appearance and throw teasing remarks his way. He cusses at them playfully, then takes up a seat beside Maggie, who is similarly dressed.

"How was your day?" he asks.

"Was fine," she replies. "It's different working for the Young Miss. Don't have to smell these guys' asses all day."

The pair break out into laughter.

"Look at you," she says, gesturing toward his outfit. "Seems like we're both steppin' up in the world."

Rick chuckles and then says, "Yeah, seems like it. So, this new job of yours, it doesn't keep you outta the Arena?"

"Nope," she replies, before lowering her voice to a whisper. "Apparently Lord Asshole still wants to see me fight."

Rick laughs, and then whispers, "Lord Asshole's a mighty fittin' name for him."

"Right," Maggie replies quietly so that no one can hear them. "He doesn't deserve his beautiful wife and daughter."

"No, he doesn't," says Rick coldly. "He should be careful that someone doesn't steal 'em both away."

Just then, a guard approaches and says to Maggie, "You. Woman. Her Ladyship requests your presence right now."

…..

Maggie's eyes grow wide as she takes in her surrounds. Lady Michonne watches her with amusement; the young woman had obviously never seen so many devices of pleasure and pain. Her Ladyship thought it best for them to meet in her private Play Room, that way no one would think twice about their secret rendezvous. They did not have much time before Glenn arrives, so Michonne began with her explanation.

"I'll summon you here when I need information," she says. "It will look like you and your young beau are here for my pleasure, but in fact, it'll be so that you can relay the information I need about where my husband is keeping my daughter. Then, when Glenn arrives, you can have a full hour with him on your own. That is your payment for your duties. Are we in agreement?"

"Yes, My Lady," says Maggie. "Thank you, My Lady."

"Right, we have ten minutes," says Michonne. "Tell me everything you did and saw today."

…..

It is warm inside of Lady Michonne's chambers as she prepares for bed. The day has been long, and all she wants to do is get some sleep. She needs to be well rested for the events of the coming days. She also needs to have a clear mind if she and Rick are going to formulate and execute a plan. Maggie gave her some pertinent information about guards' schedules, and how much time she and Missy had alone. She informed her Lady about the distances between the Citadel and where the Young Miss is housed, known as the Maison. She spoke of how many other servants were allowed access to the Maison. While the information was helpful, Lady Michonne decided that Maggie needed to do more reconnaissance before she would be able to formulate a solid plan.

Michonne sits on top of her bed and applies lotion to her soft skin. There is so much that is on her mind at that moment, that she thinks sleep may not come easy. As she moves to extinguish her candles, there comes a swift tapping on her door. She sighs, and then stands before making her way to answer it. When the door opens, Lord John is standing there looking apologetic.

"What do you want?" she asks, in no mood for his games, as she walks away from the door. He steps inside, and then closes it.

"My Love, don't be sore with me," he says.

"You made a fool of me tonight at dinner, John," she says while folding her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry…"

"Sorry isn't good enough," she offers as he steps closer and tries to touch her. She recoils; he appears offended. "You made me look foolish in front of my friend and official Companion. In front of the Attendants. In front of my Tribute."

"It all comes back to your Tribute, doesn't it?"

"Jealously doesn't suit you, My Lord," says Michonne as she walks away behind the curtain that leads to her bed. John follows. "And being jealous of a Tribute is beneath you."

She sits on the bed, and John tries to move nearer to her.

"Stop," she says. "I can't even stand to have you touch me."

"My Love?" he says. "Surely I haven't offended you so much that…"

"Be quiet and hear me out," she demands. "I am not one of your Servants, or Tributes. I am your wife. The Lady of the Citadel, and you would happily make me look a fool?"

"I'm sorry, My Love," he says, before falling to his knees in front of her. "How can I make this up to you? Do you want to tether me to the wall and lash me? I know how much you like to show your dominance, and you are the only woman I would allow to do such things to me because I love you so…"

"Silence," she says. "I thought we had an arrangement, John? I thought I could do as I pleased, so long as I always remained loyal to you. Have I not remained loyal to you? Do you think I like spending my days being pampered? Do you think I like waiting around for you to fuck me? I have needs, and I am to be seen in a certain way by our lessers."

"I know, My Love…"

She places her finger over his mouth to quiet him.

"You can't do that again," says Her Ladyship. "You can't undermine my dominance in front of others."

"I understand," he offers. "But what about how I look in front of others when you drag your plaything around with you everywhere?"

"You appear to be the strong and virile man that you are," says Her Ladyship, though she does not believe her own words. "Someone who allows his wife her dalliances, who has no need to fear that she will not return to him. Someone who is secure in his own manhood that he allows his wife to take pleasure in subjugating her pet. That is who you are. Not someone who gives in to his jealousy, and upsets his wife in the process."

"You are right, My Love," he says as he reaches his hands out to touch her thighs. She shudders slightly, but not from pleasure. "Forgive me. How can I make it up to you?"

"I want to see our daughter tomorrow," says Michonne, as she covers his hands with her own, and parts her legs. "I want to have the day with her. The whole day with her."

Lord John's eyes fall to the sweetness between her thighs as he leans in closer.

"Yes, My Lady," he replies, as he licks his tongue over her warm sex. "Anything you want."

Good, thinks Lady Michonne as she rests her legs over his shoulders and begins to work out her plan.

A/N: Lady Michonne FTW!