« Have I not warned you, my King ? Have I not told you who she was?"

Melisandre was walking around Stannis, hiding her delighted smiles. Her plot was perfect: the young rose had not needed many days to press Stannis to choose between the two women. The King was cold with her since what happened to the baby, but she was not mad at him: he had never known how to deal with his feelings. Now, he was standing, staring at the wall in front of him, not even glancing at the Red woman. He honestly was tired, so tired: Margaery was mad at him, the men did not know what they were waiting for before attacking Winterfell, Davos was advising him, Melisandre was advising him. There were moments when he wanted to take his horse and ride back to Storm's End. Being alone, bathe in the sea; try to kill seagulls, why not. But he knew those times were over. Somehow, he regretted them.

"She will be like Selyse. She will not give you anything. Her children will be stillborns."

Melisandre's sweet and bewitching voice was sounding weird in his ears. He closed his eyes for a second and whispered:

"She's my wife and your Queen. Don't speak those words about her."

He heard her laugh. He wanted to order her to stop but he could not: he felt really bad, as if he was going to collapse or faint.

"I… I love her", he stammered.

He wanted to grab the chair in front of him but he grabbed Melisandre's arm instead.

"My king", she whispered in a seducing voice. He opened his eyes: she was naked in front of him. He had not even seen her undressing. He looked away:

"Dress up", he said.

"Let me give you a son", she got closer, stroking his hair.

He closed his eyes again: her hands were warm, her whole body was warm. He felt the urge, the need to bury himself in this warmth, and to forget about the freezing Wall. He shook his head and took a step backwards:

"Don't… Don't…"

She got closer, again, and he soon was trapped between the wall of the room and her. She stuck to him: her body was not warm, it was burning now. Stannis could feel drops of sweat falling from his temples, and his brain felt like hitting his crane. He needed fresh air, he needed to get out of here as soon as possible. Melisandre suddenly kissed him. For a second, he kissed back, and for a second, he thought he could pin her against the wall and take her. His whole body was tense, his headache was growing painful, and now he could feel he was having a hard-on. Melisandre's warmth was both painful and soothing. He sighed as her tongue stroked his but he brutally recoiled when her hand reached his crotch. He pushed her quite brutally and stormed out of the room. The fresh air hit him like a slap in his face. He felt dizzy, turned around and threw up.

"Are you alright, your Grace?"

He turned to see two of his men staring at him worried.

"I'm fine", he spat and they bowed before walking away.

He did not want to sound nasty, but he had to stay strong in front of the soldiers. He stayed outside, but his headache did not stop. Cressen could maybe help him. He walked to the Maester who gave him a sort of potion. He drank it and hesitated going to his room. He did not want to see Melisandre. Stannis walked to Margaery's room and knocked on the door: it was late and she was probably sleeping. But she said "Come in" and he did so, trying to smile at her. She raised an eyebrow: for days, they had not spoken. Stannis was busy with the war, Jon Snow was harassing him so he would help save the Wildlings from the Dead, and news from Winterfell was horrifying. Seeing Margaery did him good, even if she did not look exactly happy to see him. From the moment he left Melisandre, he has been hard, and it had not disappeared despite Cressen's potion. Margaery was standing by the bed, apparently ready to go and sleep. He walked to her, cupped her face and gave her a long and demanding kiss. She was as fresh as Melisandre was hot but, right now, freshness felt better than any fire. He did not really know if she was willing or not, but she nevertheless kissed back. Less enthusiastic, for sure, but still, she kissed back. Stannis took the most of it to take her tunic off and to free his cock from his pants. He just wanted to thrust in her until he came. She shivered as he pulled her closer and he wrapped his arms around her. "Cressen says we have to start again soon", he whispered as he ran his lips on her neck.

She tilted her head:

"Start what?"

He looked up at her:

"Why, trying for an heir…"

She took a step backwards:

"I don't know if I am ready…"

"Please… I'll be sweet, I promise."

He was desperate: he wanted her, now. He couldn't imagine her spurning him. Because, feeling the way he was feeling now, he would directly go see Melisandre. Margaery stared at him and nodded. Relieved, he got closer again and stroked her body. His hands ran on her delicate skin, drawing her spine with the tip of his fingers, grabbing her ass cheeks. Margaery moaned and undressed him, raising an eyebrow as she saw him ready.

"I want you", he sighed, as to apologize.

She smirked and kissed her deeply. He eyed the room: he did not want to do it in her bed. He took her away from it, still kissing her, more and more passionately. He slipped a hand between her thighs to check she was ready and he lifted her up. She gasped and soon, his cock slid in her warm and wet entrance. He sighed with pleasure and relieve, making her move up and down around him. She was frail and small; he did not need the wall to help him support her. Her slender arms and legs wrapped around him and she stared at him, her mouth half opened letting escape moans of pleasure, and gasps of surprise when he reached the bottom of her. She sighed his name as he was thrusting in her, pleasure soothing his headache little by little. As he promised, he was gentle and nice, but he came soon, before her, as usual, unable to restrain himself. Margaery laid gentle kisses on his temples, and on the little mole upper his lips. He liked the tenderness of the moment, but he felt bad she had not enjoyed it as much as he did and he took her to the little wooden desk there was at the end of the room. He made her sit on it, kissed her deeply and brutally turned her around.

Margaery was scared he would hurt her, but the cry that escaped her mouth was an ecstatic one. She loved when Stannis was this way, unleashed, noisy. With every thrust, he was groaning or sighing deeply. She could feel his hands grabbing her hips, squeezing her skin. Margaery dug her nails in the desk, and tried to move with him but he maintained her with authority. He was her King, and she had to obey her. She closed her eyes, pleasure was so intense. She wanted so much to come. Louder and louder moans were escaping her half-opened mouth and Stannis, too, was more and more noisy. His hands let her hips go to get a grip on her shoulders. She turned to him and her moans turned into shouts as he brutally sped belly was slamming against her butt violently, he was imposing a frantic rhythm but he honestly couldn't do otherwise. She was blowing her mind, he was too, he could not slow down now. Margaery was more and more noisy, she was sure she would finally come, this time. Just a few more seconds, and she'll make it… Stannis groaned in pleasure, closed his eyes, feeling his kidneys, his belly, his balls tightening and burning and he stayed deep in her as he released his semen in her. He let out a long moan, his legs shaking slightly too and he laid his sweaty forehead on her scruff. He smelled the floral scent of her hair, smiled as he felt his headache disappearing. Margaery, leaning on the table, moaned with frustration as much as he had done with pleasure. After a moment, she took his hand and led him to her bed. He didn't protest: he felt exhausted and fell asleep as soon as she huddled against him, their bodies covered by the white sheet and the warm blankets.