"When did you lose your maidenhead - thirteen, fourteen? To the Bastard of Godsgrace, of all people. And you haven't stopped since."
"They're more likely to believe me than you, the son of the Usurper," she spat, her eyes angry.
...
"I am a Baratheon, yes. I am that Baratheon who, out of his own sense of honour, helped your uncle slay the Mountain. Helped your uncle get justice for the senseless killing of his sister. In light of that, I think you'll find my word holds a good deal of water with your people. Even still, princess, some may choose to take your side. But not enough. And others would be all too eager to see the back of you. The Yronwoods, for one. And a great many others besides. All they need is an excuse. All of whom would doubtless find a great deal of support in the Iron Throne, should they require it."
"You would plunge a whole kingdom into civil war over this?" Arianne asked, anger giving way to incredulity.
"I could," I said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "Not that it would be necessary. Given sufficient pressure, your father could be convinced to set you aside in favour of your brother for fear of bloodshed. You and I both know he already has his doubts about you. But I am as capable of being kind as I am of being cruel. That you will leave my counsel, and my city, is not in question. But whether your retreat will be graceless or graceful is your choice." I withdrew from my desk a scrap of parchment I had prepared for this moment. "This is a letter, addressed to Prince Doran. With this one letter, I guarantee your succession."
"...How?" she asked, her gaze locked on the letter, eyes gleaming with interest.
I tutted and shook my head. "That is the wrong question to ask, Princess."
Arianne's stance stiffened. "What do you want?"
"I am a man of my word, princess. I don't make promises I don't intend to keep," I said. "Do you remember what you said, girl?"
Arianne swallowed, repeating her own words in a flat tone, speaking as though her tongue were coated with ash. "You can punish me another way, if you'd like."
I smiled. "You should congratulate yourself, Arianne. Your ploy worked."
"And if I refuse?" she asked. "You'll rape me?"
"Perish the thought, princess," I said, feigning offence. "I am not one for such things. No, I'll just send you home."
Arianne's look turned bitter as she slowly deflated in her seat. "What a wilful foolish girl I must seem to you, playing at the game of thrones like a drunkard rolling dice."
"Take this for a learning opportunity, then." I stood from my seat and rounded my desk, settling myself on it's edge and cupping her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw down to her chin, tilting her eyes up to meet mine. In spite myself, I felt a pang of pity for her. "And don't worry overmuch. Now that you know better than to displease me, better than to take such foolish risks, you won't go far wrong. In enough time, I'm certain you'll make a fine Princess of Dorne."
"So long as I play the whore for you," she sulked.
"As you were all too eager to do just a few days ago, I might remind you. The most noble whore in the world. A princess. A fitting paramour for a king."
Arianne licked her lips. "What about your honour? Your duty?"
I smiled, reached down, and kissed her. She offered no resistance. It was a fleeting kiss, but a promising one. "As far as I'm concerned, princess, you are my duty for the next few weeks. Dispensing justice is one of my burdens, after all." I cocked my head as I let my hand fall away. "Besides, I'm not merely securing the affections of a simple Dornish girl, but rather a princess. One who will doubtless serve me as a sensible, loyal vassal once she claims her rights. For she knows that what I can give away today I can most certainly take back tomorrow."
Arianne snorted and sighed, quietly conceding the point.
"You can go now," I said, returning to my original place and settling down in my seat with aplomb. "I'll see you tonight, in my chambers. Make sure you've taken some Moon Tea. Ask the Grandmaester if you have none. You'll need it."
She nodded as she lifted herself from her seat. And then she was gone. Margaery looked at me. "Why didn't you tell me...?"
"You didn't truly believe that I'd have her deposed?"
"Well... no. But why promise to guarantee her succession? Wouldn't holding her in suspense would grant you even more sway?"
"Mere punishment without the promise of redemption breeds resentment. And though I probably could, I don't really want to plunge Dorne into civil war. It would make far too much work for me. No. Better to display my power with a false show of kindness than a true show of cruelty. It'll help to win her compliance, to impress upon her that she is beneath me. Smallfolk don't show mercy or generosity to their lords, now do they? They can't. Only the powerful can afford such graces. Besides, this way it's more fun for the both of us."
"And the letter?"
"What about it?"
"How is it going to guarantee her succession?"
I smirked. "A clever trick, that. Arianne's inheritance was never in any serious doubt. But the princess doesn't know that. All the letter was supposed to do was to get Doran to tell his daughter as much. To tell her the truth."
"I see."
Silence hung awkwardly in the air for a long moment. Margaery slowly lifted herself from her seat, awaiting my permission to leave. I looked at the sheaf of parchments piled high on my desk, then back at her. "You know," I said, "it strikes me now that our estrangement has ended that I've yet to give my thanks for your help."
"It's nothing, Your Grace."
"It's everything. You've shown yourself to be reliable - to be trustworthy. And coming from me, that is high praise indeed. Our marriage may have been one of political convenience - a union more between houses than people - but that doesn't mean there is no place for passion between us. For lust. For love."
Her brows slowly crept up her forehead at my words, features shifting ever-so-slightly in emotion.
I arose from my seat, rounded my desk to face her. Without words I pulled her into a kiss. "I know I shouldn't," I told her as I spun her around, pressing her back against my desk. Margaery yelped at the abruptness of my movements. "But there's just something about you I can't resist." I pushed some papers aside, hauled my wife up onto the freshly-exposed wooden surface, lifted her skirts and spread her legs; tracing little patterns as I inched up her thigh, fingers sinking into her heat.
Margaery gasped, grinned, pulled me closer.
"Is that so?" she asked, urging me on between kisses.
"It is," I asserted. "You think I find the princess enticing? She's nothing compared to you."
My lips drifted from hers down her chin and to her neck, my spare hand tugging at her bodice to free her breasts. Her hands mussed my hair, fingers working. "Oh?" she breathed, voice catching in her throat, shivering slightly.
"Don't just take my word for it. Here, let me prove it to you..."
...
A/N:
Hey guys, quick announcement. I started a new Avatar fanfic today called "Avatar: Eternal Flames."
If you feel like checking it out, maybe leave a power stone or a review. Completely optional, obviously. I would never shamelessly bribe readers for engagement.
Unrelated note: If that avatar fanfic somehow reaches 10 reviews , I will release another chapter of this story tomorrow. And the day after that. And probably the day after that too.
Funny how motivation works.
...
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