Margaery plotting Margaery things to improve her position and discovering Winterfell politics is not the same as Kings Landing Ooh and references to pies. There might also be some smutty voyeurism involved. ;)

Margaery

It had taken a few days for Margaery to recover from the news of Sansa marrying her brother, or cousin. At first Margaery had simply believed the match between Jon and Sansa was made solely for political purposes. This had given her hope that she could persuade them to change course and she could marry the King, but as got to know the castle and its people, she discovered Jon and Sansa had become extremely close since they'd reunited. Rumours were abound that Jon and Sansa shared the same bed, although it was always claimed that he did so to help Sansa with her

nightmares. At first Margaery had found this hard to believe, but after being woken night after night from Sansa screaming in her sleep, she started to suspect there was some truth in the tale. After a week of being woken up by the screaming, Margaery confronted the Queen, who eventually shared the story of her second marriage to Ramsay Bolton. To try and help, Margaery began to share Sansa's chambers, which must have helped as Sansa stopped having the nightmares and inhabitants of Winterfell finally managed to get some sleep, and Margaery being close to Sansa allowed her to plot.

The first thing Margaery did was establish how Winterfell was run, or rather the north was run. However it soon became apparent that Sansa was de-facto Queen of the Vale and would probably include the Riverlands if they won their siege against the Walder Frey, which was something Sansa seemed extremely was confident about. The castle appeared to run itself, everyone having their own roles and routines. People seemed genuinely loyal to the Stark's and almost worshipped them, in a way that Margaery had never experienced before. The smallfolk adored their King and Queen, and it was clear it wasn't forced. One day. Margaery made an incognito trip to Winter Town to buy some material for a dress, where she stopped at the inn to take in the gossip. Nobody there knew who she was, but what became abundantly clear was that the Starks took the issues of the smallfolk as seriously as that of a Lord. The other strange thing she heard was that the Starks were magical and had supernatural powers. They said King Jon could warg into his white direwolf, Ghost and that Lord Brandon was the tree god, they even commented Sansa had the greensight and could see her country from the skies. They were also convinced King Jon would be able to steal the Dragon Queen's dragons from her, when the time was right. Most of the tales were too tall to believe, however Margaery knew the story of Daenerys Targaryen was true and that there were dragons bound for Westeros. When she returned from winter Town, Margaery decided to speak with Sansa, it was about time she put her own skills to use. However, when she returned, Sansa was missing, as was Maester Wolkan, Lord Royce, Lady Lyanna and Lady Brienne. Margaery did manage to find Pod, who she'd hardly spoken with since they met. He was just finishing having his dinner in the dining hall, where Margaery joined him.

"My Lady." he could barely look at her.

"Podrick, where is everyone?" she asked.

"In a meeting." Pod replied, taking a bite of bread.

"Do they have meetings often?" Margaery asked as Pod didn't seem too forthcoming.

He nodded. "They have a lot of work right now, what with the whitewalkers and the dragon Queen. On top of that there's the wedding to organise, Bran to take to Bear Island. The threat of Queen Cersei. I don't know how she does it. But it's been better since you helped her sleep." he added.

"San...I mean her grace has told me nothing of what is going on in the Kingdoms. I have been without news for over a month." Margaery sighed.

"Have you asked her grace?" Pod shrugged. Margaery had to admit, she hadn't spent any time asking about what was happening around the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, she'd been too busy working out ways to try and seduce the King, although no matter which way she looked at it, she may have to wait until she met him before making any her plans fully. He sounded like a very different type of man than she was used to.

"I'm afraid I have spent most of the last few days trying to find my way around this place, get to know people and keep warm." Pod laughed at the last comment. "I did go into Winter Town earlier..." she started.

"Did you have a guard with you?" Pod asked.

Margaery shook her head. "The Queen was busy, I didn't like to ask."

"The Queen won't be happy. Next time I'll take you." Pod smiled. "We don't want anything happening to the Rose of Highgarden." he blushed.

"Thank you Podrick." Margaery was proud of herself adaptability, she'd not gotten Sansa, but she'd found someone who might be of some use to her. "I'd really like to know what has happened since I left Kings Landing." she smiled demurely.

Pod swallowed and looked around. "I suppose there's no harm in me telling you. I'm sure her grace would tell you herself if you asked."

"I'd prefer it to come from you. Her grace is a very busy woman. We could go to my chambers. It is warmer there." she offered out of genuine sincerity, the dining room was much colder than her chambers.

Pod nodded. "Alright my Lady."

Margaery stood up. "Come, bring some ale and tell me all about what I am missing."

The conversation hadn't gone exactly how Margaery had expected. The tall tales in Winter Town sounded far more real from the mouth of Pod. The army of the dead were moving south towards the wall, King Jon was trying to stop the wall from falling by taking his brother to Bear Island because he had a mark on his wrist. The Dragon Queen was going to burn down Kings Landing if she wasn't taken care of, which Margaery had worked out for herself. She didn't touch on the strange magical abilities the Stark's apparently possessed, although taking Lord Brandon to Bear Island did seem to match up with the stories she'd heard in Winter Town. She was taking in everything Pod had told her when he started to talk again.

"Ser Davos arrived this afternoon from Castle Cerwyn. The rest of the dragonglass will be sorted out and sent to either Castle Black, Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower." he told her.

"What is the dragonglass for?" Margaery asked, wanting to kick herself for not taking any interest before. There was mountains of the stuff and she'd not thought once to question it's existence.

"It kills whitewalkers." Pod said. "Or so the King says. He killed his with Longclaw, but Samwell Tarly killed a whitewalker with dragonglass. The wildlings tell stories of dragonglass being used to kill them too."

"Do you believe in all of this...magic?" Margaery frowned.

"Not before I came north my Lady." Pod admitted. "I didn't spend long at Castle Black but the things I've seen and heard are scary."

"So are we safe here?" she asked.

"If the Queen and the Lady Melisandre is right; and Bran's arm which would cause the wall to fall, then we might have kept the army of the dead north of the wall. So then we are safe here. Then we just need to kill them. That's why Samwell is at the Citadel, he's trying to find a way to destroy them. You see, fire kills them."

Margaery wanted to kick herself for her next question, but it had to be asked.

"If the King is so handsome and desired, then why doesn't he marry the Dragon Queen and she can use fire on them." she suggested.

"Dragons won't fly over the wall." he told her. "Or so the legends say. Anyway, she wants the Iron Throne, I don't think King Jon cares about the south, or at least the Iron Throne. He'd probably want it melted down. King Jon might be a Targaryen, but he's a northerner. The Dragon Queen would probably want the match more than him. He doesn't like playing politics. He lived with the Freefolk for a while, I suppose it rubbed off on him."

"Freefolk, you mean wildlings?" Margaery frowned.

"I wouldn't call them that in front of him. They don't like Kings, but he's their unspoken King. They chose him."

"Why?"

"Because they love him." Pod shrugged. "He inspires loyalty. Him being raised as a bastard makes him more humble. Being in the Night's Watch, he was around people who had it worse than him. He can mix with rich and poor. The Maester was Aemon Targaryen, who declined the chance to be King. His best friend is Samwell Tarly.."

"You keep mentioning Samwell Tarly. Is he related to Randyll Tarly?" she asked.

"His eldest son." Pod told her. Margaery tried to remember, but she'd only met his son once and she couldn't be sure if it were Sam or not, he hadn't been particularly significant at the time, after all it was ten years ago. "He joined the watch instead of becoming Lord of Horn Hill, but he's now training to be a Maester at the Citadel."

"Thank you Pod, you've been really helpful." Margaery smiled as she heard a knock at the door. "Come in." Margaery called out. The door opened and Sansa stood at the other side with Brienne behind her.

"Pod. Come with me. It is time for your lessons." Brienne said sternly as Sansa walked into the room while Pod and Margaery stood. Pod bowed at Sansa before joining Brienne while Margaery offered a brief curtsey.

"It's been nice talking with you Lady Margaery." Pod smiled.

"You too Podrick." Margaery smiled back as Pod left them, the door closing, leaving her with Sansa. "Your grace."

"Sit." Sansa commanded.

They sat down and Margaery poured them both some ale. "With what do I owe the pleasure?"

""You've been in Winterfell almost three weeks. How have you found your stay so far?" Sansa asked.

Margaery frowned. "It is beautiful, but I admit, a little cold for my liking."

"I have been most busy with a lot of my duties and I feel I have been somewhat neglectful towards you." Sansa sighed.

Margaery placed her hand over Sansa's. "You've been busy, I understand. Being Queen is a most demanding role."

"I was wondering." Sansa started. "If you would like to be more... involved in the northern council. My council is made up of many people, mostly from the south, however none have got your knowledge of courtly life. We live far more simplistically here, but the the world around us does not. I need someone who can interpret what is going on. Someone who is cunning. I did have Lord Baelish, but his intentions were motivated by his own personal gain. I can't offer you a throne or a King, but I can offer you a role as an advisor."

Margaery frowned. If truth be told, this was what she had wanted. Of course being Queen was still her ultimate goal, but to be Queen, she needed to get close to the King, and what better way than to be on the Royal Council.

"Of course." Margaery grinned. "You'll need to go through my duties, but I assure you, I will perform them to my best abilities." she thought for a moment. "It's nice to be offered a role because I'm capable and not because of who I'm married to."

Sansa nodded. "The north is more accepting of women in positions of power than the south. The land is harsh, the people are tougher."

"What would you like me to do?" Margaery asked.

Sansa handed her a letter. "This came from Lady Olenna." she handed her another letter. "This came from Lord Manderly. Your grandmother has sent the north twenty thousand bushels of grain, enough to last around five years. Dickon Tarly is the one who is escorting it. I want you to...charm him. Find out what is going on in the south, who has aligned with who." Sansa stood up. "Come with me, I need to show you something."

Margaery stood and followed Sansa, who took her across the courtyard to the library tower, and up to the top where there was a room which Margaery suspected, held some of the council meetings. Inside, Margaery was quite stunned by what she saw. The room was warm with a huge welcoming fire in the hearth. There were banners with the direwolf sigil, hanging all around. There were two large tapestries on the wall, one was of the northern houses, with the banners to represent them. The other was one of the Vale houses, which was of the same ilk. There was another tapestry, however it looked like it was incomplete, and it was folded away on top of a chest. A single Targaryen banner hung down, standing out from all of the rest. However what took Margaery's breath away was the table in front of her. It was an enormous and detailed map of Westeros, it even included the terrain of the land.

"A week ago, Daenerys Targaryen landed at Dragonstone. She comes with three dragons, eight thousand Unsullied, a hundred thousand Dothraki screamers and she has Lord Tyrion and Lord Varys as her advisors." Sansa placed a Targaryen figurine on Dragonstone. "She has recruited Dorne and some factions of the Iron Islands to her cause. Lady Olenna was approached, but I had just rescued you, therefore she declined the invitation, for now."

"For now?" Margaery raised an eyebrow.

"Daenerys Targaryen doesn't like being told no." Sansa warned her. "I have already given the best advice I can to your grandmother, I will need your assistance in that matter." Margaery noticed Sansa suddenly seemed different. Gone was the girl she knew, this was a Queen, who very much reminded Margaery of Cersei.

"How can I help?"

"Your grandmother needs to hide her grain and gold. Cersei will try and plunder it, if she does, then Daenerys will also fight for it. I've tried to convince her, but I'm not sure she'll listen to me." Sansa lowered her eyes.

"How do you know?" Margaery asked.

"Just as I knew about the Sept of Baelor. I had my sources." Sansa suddenly seemed withdrawn, making Margaery suspicious.

"I thought Littlefinger was dead."

"He is."

"Are you still using his spies? They won't help you if they know he's dead." Margaery stated.

"As far as they are concerned, he is still alive." Sansa told her. "I have been expertly forging his handwriting. He has declared for House Stark, therefore he would not be stepping foot in the capital any time soon. The crown has no gold. Cersei cannot borrow from the Iron Bank, the gold mines in Casterly Rock are bare. Westeros is practically bankrupt. Your grandmother needs to hide her wealth and grain. This will be the longest winter in a generation. The Seven Kingdoms will need every bushel of grain it can find. Daenerys Targaryen is good at conquering, but seems to be incapable of ruling. She won't hesitate to burn the stores. And Cersei won't hesitate to loot them. There isn't much time."

Margaery suddenly understood the severity of the situation. "I'll do my best." she said. "I'll try to flirt with Dickon Tarly." she rolled her eyes. "He better be easy on the eye." she japed.

"I've never met him, not even his brother, who is Jon's best friend." Sansa said weakly, suggesting Sam wasn't exactly handsome. "Dickon should be with us in just over a moon's from now; just in time for the wedding." she smirked.

"What wedding?" Margaery frowned. It couldn't be Sansa's as Jon wasn't due back for another three moons or so.

"Jon is already on his way home. Bran told him it was safe for him to go to Bear Island with the Freefolk and told Jon to return to Winterfell." Sansa suddenly looked happier than she'd seen her friend look the entire time Margaery had been in the north. "That means we'll have time to make everything look beautiful. I stopped making my wedding cloak as I was scared Jon wouldn't come back. Now I can start his too."

"I'm so glad for you." Margaery put her arms around Sansa, pretending to be happy for her friend. If this news was correct, they would be marrying within days of his return. "Do you have time to get it all ready? I mean it is so very soon."

"Nonsense, it has already been delayed for too long." Sansa grinned. "Oh before I forget, I wanted to ask if you would be my Lady in Waiting. It does mean you'll need to understand the northern styles of hair and dress."

"I would adore it." Margaery said truthfully. "You style seems so simple, but it exudes power."

"I have a gift for you." Sansa walked over to the chest underneath the tapestry and opened a small drawer. She pulled out a small package and handed it to Margaery. She opened it and inside found some beautiful gold thread. "It's real." Sansa grinned. "I thought you might want to embroider some gold roses on your gowns. I was thinking we could make you something similar to mine, but in your house colours with your sigil. I've got some green dye."

Real tears sprung to Margaery's eyes, she hadn't felt trusted all the time she'd been here. But finally Sansa was making her feel like she was part of something bigger, something she couldn't put her finger on. "Where did you get it?" Margaery asked.

"We have good trade deals with Braavos." Sansa smiled as there was a knock at the door. "Come in." Sansa called out as Maester Wolkan walked in.

"A raven, from Riverrun your grace." his eyes flickered towards Sansa, who nodded towards her Maester.

"You may leave us." Sansa said as she opened the letter, her eyes widened with shock, although Margaery sensed the expression was fake and that Sansa had expected this news.

"What is it?" Margaery asked.

"Walder Frey is dead." Sansa told her. "The Freys who were camped at Riverrun kept dying under suspicious circumstances. Lord Walder called his men back. They found Black Walder and Lothar's bodies had been baked into pies, and fed to Lord Walder before he was murdered. The killer removed his face and pretended to be Lord Walder to hold a meeting with all of his sons, where they were all poisoned."

"Removed his face?" Margaery thought the story sounded too far fetched.

"A faceless assassin." Sansa told her, seemingly unperturbed by the idea. "They remove faces and wear them, allowing them to become anyone they want." she explained, Margaery tried to hide her disgust. " The Lannister army has left Riverrun; other than riding east towards the Kingsroad, Uncle Brynden couldn't be sure which way they were heading, he thinks Cersei wanted Jaime back in the capital to protect Kings Landing from the Dragon Queen; or he may have gone north to restore order at the Twins. The raven was only sent two days ago, which means Ser Jaime won't have even reached the Kingsroad yet."

"I wouldn't be too sure about him being so keen to return to Cersei." Margaery said, still trying to forget people wearing the faces of others and men being baked into pies. "Lord Bronn will have told Jaime what happened. Tommen was his son and you tried to save him. Tommen is dead because of Cersei. If he's gone back to the capital it might be to kill Cersei."

"Mayhaps." Sansa nodded. "Lady Brienne couldn't be certain of how he would proceed after learning of Cersei's actions. Let us hope Ser Jaime has decided we are a better ally than his sister. Only time will tell."

The next three weeks were busy to say the least. Margaery was finally introduced to the glass gardens and the Godswood. The latter being the most beautiful place she'd ever seen. She wished she were a good painter as she would love to send a picture to her grandmother. However, it was currently being made to look beautiful for Jon and Sansa's wedding, although Jon had yet to return. The castle had been slowly filling up over the last few days, Lords coming from around the north to see the wedding and official coronation of the King and Queen. As much as Margaery wanted to try and seduce the King, she knew she wouldn't have the time to change his mind. The wedding was due to take place in a fortnight, the King himself had sent word he would be back that very afternoon. Sansa had even ordered a small feast to be put on in his honour.

Margaery was currently in the Godswood to work out the most strategic places for the blue winter roses to be put along the aisle. Hearing crunching behind her, Margaery turned around and saw what she first took for a monster. It was as high as her shoulders, with blood red eyes, an enormous snout which housed large, sharp teeth; its fur was pure white, like the snow around her. At first, Margaery screamed out loud, her heart was pacing with terror, then she realised this was the direwolf called Ghost, the one who belonged to the King.

"Ghost?" came Sansa's voice from behind the beast and it turned its head around. It suddenly changed from an imposing and terrifying beast, into what could only be described as a soft, cuddly dog. He padded over to Sansa and pressed his huge head into her neck. Sansa wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes. "Oh Ghost, I've missed you boy." she pulled back. "Is her hear?" she asked, and Ghost replied by wagging his tail. Almost on cue, the gate horn blew, signalling there was a visitor. "Jon's here." Sansa's eyes lit up. "We better welcome him home." she said as they made their way from the Godswood to a courtyard which was also in the know as to the approaching rider, or as it turned out, riders.

Sansa, as Queen, was stood in the courtyard as the head of the house. Margaery stood to Sansa's left while to her right stood Ser Davos, Lord Royce, Lady Brienne, Lady Lyanna, Podrick and Maester Wolkan. Two men rode in through the gates, and everyone in the courtyard knelt and bowed their heads, except Sansa who was a Queen.

"Fuckin hell. The respect for the Night's Watch has gone up since you died. Fancy copping it again?" one of the men's voices said, which raised a chuckle from Sansa.

"Your grace." she heard Sansa say.

"Your grace." a man replied with gruff voice in a strong northern accent.

"You may stand." Sansa said. "Lord Commander."

Margaery looked to the men in front of her. The Lord Commander who was currently greeting Sansa was small, skinny man, dressed all in black with thinning hair. However, it was the other man who caught Margaery's attention. There was no doubting who he was, the descriptions had been almost muted in comparison to how he appeared in the flesh. Jon's dark hair was pulled back into a bun, his dark eyes held a sense of sadness, yet a stern authority. His northern attire gave a semblance of power and strength, however Margaery did notice he wasn't particularly tall. What she did immediately notice was the look Jon gave Sansa, and the one her friend gave him. This was no marriage of convenience, no political match. No matter how much they were trying to hide it from the public, they clearly had feelings for one another, deep feelings. And there was no way Margaery would ever be able to insert herself between them. It wasn't a question of whether the marriage would be annulled due to non-consummation, Margaery was beginning to think it was already too late. After all he had been sharing her bed for months. How on earth would a woman be able to share his bed and not get hot and naked with him.

"Lady Margaery, I believe." Jon approached her. She held her hand out and he kissed the back of it as she curtseyed.

"Your grace. I have heard much about you." she smiled her most demure smile. "And of Ghost, who I have already met."

"I hope he behaved himself." Jon's eyes crinkled.

"He was a perfect gentleman." she replied.

"Sansa tells me you have been...helping her." he said, clearly referring to the nightmares.

"I have your grace. She has been a great comfort to me and I returned the favour." she said.

"Well, there's no need to burden yourself with the duty any longer. I will take over from now on." he glanced sideways at Sansa, who blushed.

"Of course your grace." Margaery bowed her head as Jon moved down the line to talk with the other people who were there to greet him. She watched him, talk to the others, his demeanour was one who was at ease with any walk of life. He was what a real King looked like, not any of the men she'd ever met in the capital. The stories which were running rampant throughout the land about the man who had just greeted her, talked of someone who had beat monsters, he had conquered death and saved the lives of thousands. Jon was like the hero from one of the songs she loved as a little girl, and if she ever had a daughter of her own, she knew she would be able to tell her that she had met a real life hero. One who was as romantic and handsome in the flesh as he was in the stories. Margaery only wished that she was his fair maiden, but unfortunately his heart was taken.

They walked back to castle and Margaery followed until they reached Sansa's chambers, where Margaery was told to wait, while Sansa spoke with the King in private. Not wanting to miss out on anything, Margaery decided to find out what was being said between them. It would be the best way to find out more about the King than what was seen in public. Therefore, she opened the servants door and made her way to the King's chambers to listen in.

When she got there, Jon and Sansa were already inside. What she also discovered was that there was a small crack in the doorway, large enough to see inside the room, from the hearth to the bed itself. However it was Jon and Sansa which were taking her attention. They were kissing, and not in the way two people who were raised as a brother and sister should kiss. Margaery had suspected there was something more to their relationship from the way they looked at each other when they re-united, but she'd hoped she was wrong. The passion exuding from the kiss suggested she'd been right in her assessment. Margaery wanted to look away, but for some reason she couldn't. She had to wait to see if they spoke of anything of interest once they'd finished greeting one another. Eventually they stopped kissing and finally began to speak.

"All I've wanted to do for the last few days, was to rip your clothes off, kiss every part of your body and make you peak so loudly that they could hear you as far away as Castle Black. And on our wedding night, I'm going to tongue-fuck you so hard, you'll be seeing stars." he growled.

Margaery was stunned. He was saying this to Sansa, the sweet innocent girl, who she once had to hint about the pleasure of the marriage bed, was getting a far more direct description. Margaery stifled a laugh at the thought, but it came out as a cough. Jon whipped his head around and Margaery stilled, her heart thumping so loudly she expected them to be able to hear the sound. "What was that?" he walked over to the door and opened it, but there was no one in sight.

"It probably came from outside." Sansa suggested. "The window is slightly open."

Jon turned around to see that the window was indeed open, he walked over and closed it. "Warn me about the window being open, the next time I start talking dirty." he grinned.

Margaery watched on as they both removed their gloves and capes, then Sansa took his face in her hands. "I want to kiss all the way down your chest, and take you in my mouth until you peak, then I will swallow your seed." Margaery couldn't believe she was hearing such things coming from Sansa's mouth, although to be honest, she couldn't blame her, Jon was delectable, even better without the huge cape which seemed to dwarf him. She could now see that he was much leaner than he'd first appeared to be, but the snug fitting tunic against his arms suggested he was well muscled. Margaery forced herself to concentrate on their conversation, despite feeling a little warm at the thought of being intimate with Jon.

"Seven hells, woman, you'll be the death of me." Jon sighed. "But I somehow don't think you dragged me here to talk dirty or get naked. Well not yet."

Sansa shook her head. "Daenerys is at Dragonstone. Her ships are sailing west, although the Greyjoy fleet has not set sail. Fortunately the Tyrell grain left the Reach just after Daenerys arrived at Dragonstone. It is currently being sailed up the White Knife. Margaery will be leaving tomorrow to meet Dickon Tarly with Ser Davos at Castle Cerwyn. Arya has killed the Freys. The Lannister army has deserted Riverrun, it is now back in Tully hands. I received this raven only minutes before you arrived, well before Lady Margaery alerted me of Ghost's presence." she handed Jon a letter, which Margaery hadn't seen. Jon read it and looked up at Sansa.

"He's coming here?" Jon asked..

"Hopefully he'll miss the wedding." Sansa sighed.

"Good! He'd be completely against it." he suddenly frowned.. "How long ago did old Walder choke on his Frey Pie?" he asked.

"Probably around a fortnight ago." Sansa told him.

"And how long did it take for Arya to get here after she killed them?" he asked. Margaery struggled to hold back a gasp. Sansa hadn't been uncomfortable with the idea of the faceless men, now Margaery knew why. Their sister was one of them. The latter part of the conversation she must have misheard.

"If she's coming north, she'll be here any day now." Sansa said. "Of course, word of the wedding is all over the north. She might change her mind and go south..."

"Or try to talk us out of it." Jon said, as it looked to Margaery that he was trying to undo Sansa's dress.

Sansa slapped his hand away. "We don't have time, I've got a feast to prepare." she told him, but when Jon pouted she must have changed her mind. "Alright, but we don't have time for me to get undressed. Lie flat on the bed and unfasten your breeches. I'll just have to take my smallclothes off and keep my dress on." when Margaery realised what they were going to do, she knew she ought to go back to Sansa's room. But she decided to wait a moment, she wanted to see Jon without his clothes on. If she wasn't going to get him for herself, at least she'd have something to think about when her next ugly brute of a husband fucked her. The moment Jon was naked, she couldn't look away. He was absolutely beautiful, despite the scars on his chest, which she suspected were from when he was murdered. He was lean and muscular, like she would expect a warrior to be. The hair on his body was dark, although his chest bore none, save the small trail which led down to his cock. Oh and what a glorious cock it was, well anything was compared to Tommen. The thought of taking it into her own mouth was very appealing.

At that point she should have left, given them the privacy they deserved. She knew shouldn't watch, it was all sorts of wrong, but they looked beautiful together. Not able to believe her own audacity, Margaery continued to watch them fuck until they'd both come. Once they'd peaked, she decided she couldn't stay around to see what else was said between them. Instead she returned to her own chambers, stunned by what she'd just witnessed and slightly disappointed there was no chance for her to charm Jon. This was not the political marriage she had thought it was. It was a love match.