storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2015-02-02 09:15 pm
storypaint) wrote2015-02-02 09:15 pm
[A Song of Ice and Fire by G. R. R. Martin] all the water in the rough rude sea (Daenerys/Margaery)
Title: all the water in the rough rude sea
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire by G. R. R. Martin
Length: 1072 words
Prompt: A![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trickortreatex treat for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lichaelle.
Pairing: Daenerys/Margaery
Other: R for sex. Also at AO3.
Excerpt: Daenerys/Margaery, marriage of convenience. But convenient for who, exactly? When Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, strode into King's Landing and burned the Iron Throne, she said, "I have no brother to marry, so I will take the king's wife."
Margaery couldn't think of her husbands now. She remembered the tender look in Renly's eyes and the careful way he touched her, a gentle hand at her elbow. She remembered Joffrey and the weight of the crown on his head, the way his head dipped beneath it and he forced himself to stand taller. There was sweet Tommen, after, more a little brother than a husband, and the stories he told her about all his soldiers, as if they were toys.
She only wanted to be queen; they had sworn she would be queen.
When Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, strode into King's Landing and burned the Iron Throne, she said, "I have no brother to marry, so I will take the king's wife." It would have perhaps made more sense to take Jaime, mangled as he was, or another living Lannister, but Daenerys considered them all usurpers alike; at least Margaery's first loyalty wouldn't be to the family that had abandoned her, and King's Landing, to their respective fates. (Margaery thought it likely that the Lannisters were all dead in any case -- Daenerys had learned how to rule across the sea, and would have followed through as they should have done with her. It was impolite to ask, so she didn't mention it.)
In any case, her family had prepared her for bed-warmers. This couldn't be much different. Perhaps, in the back of her mind, she thought that she would be four times a widow before the issue truly arose. Death did not interrupt the public ceremony, however, and afterwards, Daenerys took Margaery to their bedchamber. There wasn't anyone to do a proper bedding, for which Margaery was glad.
"Among the Dothraki, you take your wife where all can see it," Daenerys said, "but I will extend you the courtesy that my husband did for me." She began to unlace Margaery's dress.
Margaery's fingers trembled, but she stilled them. "You are again a Targaryen," she said, flatteringly, she hoped. "You can make your own customs, my queen."
"Of course I can," Daenerys said, and her calm unconcern was frustrating to Margaery. She knew that Daenerys could be passionate and strong-willed. Once her folk had taken control of the castle, Margaery had done her share of careful listening. Stories had preceded her arrival. To some, Daenerys was a mother, a rescuer, life. To the people of Westeros, she had only been death, so far. Margaery couldn't marry death. She had done so too many times already.
Margaery lifted a hand and stopped Daenerys's.
"Could we talk?" she asked.
Daenerys met her eyes and their gazes held. Margaery wasn't sure what Daenerys saw in her face, but it was enough that Daenerys stopped trying to undress her.
"You are right," Daenerys said. "We should. I have kept your family safe, Margaery. I have made you queen. I will need more from you in the future, and I would like to be able to sleep without worrying about a knife at my back. Tell me what you want, and I will do my best to provide it."
Daenerys began to work at her own fastenings, and her lack of expertise was painfully obvious. Margaery's maids had dressed Daenerys this afternoon in Westeros clothing for the ceremony. There was no one here now, except for the guard at the door, sexless and silent.
"Let me," Margaery said, and having something for her hands to do helped. Daenerys was down to her shift before Margaery answered the implied question.
"I want to have a say from now on," Margaery said. "I don't want to be given away to some lieutenant of yours when you are done pretending. I want to be queen like you are queen. And I want to see my family."
Her grandmother would have told her not to betray her hand too soon. Margaery trusted in the rumors she'd heard of Daenerys, and hoped that Daenerys would do the same.
Daenerys pulled off the rest of her clothes and stood naked before Margaery. She had a number of scars, puckered silver from old wounds and some newer from more recent battles. Astonishingly, Margaery could see no burn marks. She was lean, muscled, and beautiful. Her hair shone gold in the dim firelight.
"I said that I would need you," Daenerys said, "and I meant it. I need you to be the mother of my children. That is not a choice I make lightly, as you know. I am the mother to all, but I will need you to be the mother of a dynasty. I will not be giving you away." She put her hands on Margaery's breasts, touching her through her dress. She had stepped close to Margaery, speaking softly, so that no one who might be listening would hear. Margaery rested her hands on Daenerys's hips and let Daenerys continue to undress her.
"How can I do that?' Margaery asked. Daenerys's hands were certain on her skin, and not at all unpleasant. She had more practical experience in this; that much was obvious.
"We will have to choose a husband. Someone who can shore up my legitimacy for these barbarians," Daenerys said. She pinched Margaery's breast and Margaery choked back a gasp. She was not nearly as gentle as Renly had been. Margaery was surprised by how arousing that was. She let Daenerys steer her backwards onto the bed.
"We will both be seen to bear, but your child must be mine," Daenerys said, propping Margaery up on hands and knees, kissing her neck from behind.
Margaery thought, I will be four times a widow. Or dead within a year. These past few years had shown her time and time again what illegitimacy did to a kingdom.
Of course, she'd also seen what dragons did.
She shut her eyes as Daenerys climbed on top of her and inserted two fingers into her dampness. Daenerys's breasts pressed against her back. She could not remember when she had last been so wet. She let the feelings carry her away. When her orgasm finished, she lay Daenerys down on the bed and tasted her, propping Daenerys's knees upon her shoulders. She felt Daenerys shuddering underneath her and felt powerful.
She would bet on the dragons, like she had bet on a younger brother's smile, on Lannister scheming, on the Sept, on herself.
Above all she still wanted to be queen.
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire by G. R. R. Martin
Length: 1072 words
Prompt: A
trickortreatex treat for lichaelle. Pairing: Daenerys/Margaery
Other: R for sex. Also at AO3.
Excerpt: Daenerys/Margaery, marriage of convenience. But convenient for who, exactly? When Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, strode into King's Landing and burned the Iron Throne, she said, "I have no brother to marry, so I will take the king's wife."
Margaery couldn't think of her husbands now. She remembered the tender look in Renly's eyes and the careful way he touched her, a gentle hand at her elbow. She remembered Joffrey and the weight of the crown on his head, the way his head dipped beneath it and he forced himself to stand taller. There was sweet Tommen, after, more a little brother than a husband, and the stories he told her about all his soldiers, as if they were toys.
She only wanted to be queen; they had sworn she would be queen.
When Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, strode into King's Landing and burned the Iron Throne, she said, "I have no brother to marry, so I will take the king's wife." It would have perhaps made more sense to take Jaime, mangled as he was, or another living Lannister, but Daenerys considered them all usurpers alike; at least Margaery's first loyalty wouldn't be to the family that had abandoned her, and King's Landing, to their respective fates. (Margaery thought it likely that the Lannisters were all dead in any case -- Daenerys had learned how to rule across the sea, and would have followed through as they should have done with her. It was impolite to ask, so she didn't mention it.)
In any case, her family had prepared her for bed-warmers. This couldn't be much different. Perhaps, in the back of her mind, she thought that she would be four times a widow before the issue truly arose. Death did not interrupt the public ceremony, however, and afterwards, Daenerys took Margaery to their bedchamber. There wasn't anyone to do a proper bedding, for which Margaery was glad.
"Among the Dothraki, you take your wife where all can see it," Daenerys said, "but I will extend you the courtesy that my husband did for me." She began to unlace Margaery's dress.
Margaery's fingers trembled, but she stilled them. "You are again a Targaryen," she said, flatteringly, she hoped. "You can make your own customs, my queen."
"Of course I can," Daenerys said, and her calm unconcern was frustrating to Margaery. She knew that Daenerys could be passionate and strong-willed. Once her folk had taken control of the castle, Margaery had done her share of careful listening. Stories had preceded her arrival. To some, Daenerys was a mother, a rescuer, life. To the people of Westeros, she had only been death, so far. Margaery couldn't marry death. She had done so too many times already.
Margaery lifted a hand and stopped Daenerys's.
"Could we talk?" she asked.
Daenerys met her eyes and their gazes held. Margaery wasn't sure what Daenerys saw in her face, but it was enough that Daenerys stopped trying to undress her.
"You are right," Daenerys said. "We should. I have kept your family safe, Margaery. I have made you queen. I will need more from you in the future, and I would like to be able to sleep without worrying about a knife at my back. Tell me what you want, and I will do my best to provide it."
Daenerys began to work at her own fastenings, and her lack of expertise was painfully obvious. Margaery's maids had dressed Daenerys this afternoon in Westeros clothing for the ceremony. There was no one here now, except for the guard at the door, sexless and silent.
"Let me," Margaery said, and having something for her hands to do helped. Daenerys was down to her shift before Margaery answered the implied question.
"I want to have a say from now on," Margaery said. "I don't want to be given away to some lieutenant of yours when you are done pretending. I want to be queen like you are queen. And I want to see my family."
Her grandmother would have told her not to betray her hand too soon. Margaery trusted in the rumors she'd heard of Daenerys, and hoped that Daenerys would do the same.
Daenerys pulled off the rest of her clothes and stood naked before Margaery. She had a number of scars, puckered silver from old wounds and some newer from more recent battles. Astonishingly, Margaery could see no burn marks. She was lean, muscled, and beautiful. Her hair shone gold in the dim firelight.
"I said that I would need you," Daenerys said, "and I meant it. I need you to be the mother of my children. That is not a choice I make lightly, as you know. I am the mother to all, but I will need you to be the mother of a dynasty. I will not be giving you away." She put her hands on Margaery's breasts, touching her through her dress. She had stepped close to Margaery, speaking softly, so that no one who might be listening would hear. Margaery rested her hands on Daenerys's hips and let Daenerys continue to undress her.
"How can I do that?' Margaery asked. Daenerys's hands were certain on her skin, and not at all unpleasant. She had more practical experience in this; that much was obvious.
"We will have to choose a husband. Someone who can shore up my legitimacy for these barbarians," Daenerys said. She pinched Margaery's breast and Margaery choked back a gasp. She was not nearly as gentle as Renly had been. Margaery was surprised by how arousing that was. She let Daenerys steer her backwards onto the bed.
"We will both be seen to bear, but your child must be mine," Daenerys said, propping Margaery up on hands and knees, kissing her neck from behind.
Margaery thought, I will be four times a widow. Or dead within a year. These past few years had shown her time and time again what illegitimacy did to a kingdom.
Of course, she'd also seen what dragons did.
She shut her eyes as Daenerys climbed on top of her and inserted two fingers into her dampness. Daenerys's breasts pressed against her back. She could not remember when she had last been so wet. She let the feelings carry her away. When her orgasm finished, she lay Daenerys down on the bed and tasted her, propping Daenerys's knees upon her shoulders. She felt Daenerys shuddering underneath her and felt powerful.
She would bet on the dragons, like she had bet on a younger brother's smile, on Lannister scheming, on the Sept, on herself.
Above all she still wanted to be queen.