Playing the Game (Game of Thrones)

As she’d hoped, the Starks and the Targaryen King had not simply rushed into the Reach ahead of the Faith Militant for the chance at attacking and ransacking Highgarden first. Indeed, Margaery had been right to order Lord Tarly to fly a flag of truce. The parley had been arranged within a day, and now here she stood, escorted by an honor guard along with Lord Tarly to a tent outside of Highgarden.
 
On the one hand, she might have preferred to receive the Targaryen King and his retinue as visitors to her Court. One might have thought it would give her an advantage in the coming negotiations. They would be wrong. If she’d invited the Targaryen King into Highgarden but NOT pledged her loyalty on the spot and granted him her Castle to use as he liked for as long as he wished, she would have been damaging her own foundations, perhaps even enough to cause the house of cards she was currently managing to finally teeter over entirely.
 
Her position was not nearly secure enough to risk insulting the Targaryen King. But neither did she want to just roll over and submit without certain concessions first. Hence, this meeting on ostensibly neutral ground outside of Highgarden. She had her soldiers with her, and the Targaryen King had his… but to be fair, they all knew it was a polite fiction.
 
Margaery had caught glimpses of the dragons, as they’d made their way down from the Castle. It was impossible not to, the creatures were utterly massive. They were bigger than she could ever have imagined, and as they said, seeing was believing. Lady Margaery Tyrell had no problem believing that those three dragons could lay waste to not just Highgarden but the whole of the Reach, if they needed to.
 
That the Targaryen King hadn’t started with the Fire and Blood his family was known for was also a good sign. But then, to be fair… he was only tangentially Targaryen, wasn’t he? He’d started life as Jon Snow and grown up under the eyes of the Starks. Winter was in his blood even with the truth of his parentage, if the reports were to be believed. His father might have been a dragon, but his mother had been a wolf. And he… he was something else entirely.
 
“Presenting Lady Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden, Presumptive Lady Paramount of the Reach, Presumptive Warden of the South.”
 
Margaery can’t help but straighten up a little bit as she’s announced. Stepping into the room, a small smile graces her features at the face that the Targaryen King is allowing her. She hadn’t asked for it, after all… hadn’t dared. For him to declare her the Presumptive to both of her father’s former titles without them even sitting down to talk however… that spoke well of her chances.
 
Indeed, beside her Lord Tarly bristles a little bit, but stays quiet. Margaery has not failed to notice that her men are his men, in this moment. Her honor guard, the men who are ostensibly here to keep her safe, all answer to Lord Tarly. Which wouldn’t be a problem seeing as he was supposed to answer to her, but Margaery didn’t doubt that if he decided to stop answering to her… his men would follow.
 
Still, this is her opportunity to fix everything, and solidify her family’s place as the stewards of not just the Highgarden but the whole of the Reach for generations to come. If the Targaryen King was- oh… he’s rather handsome.
 
She doesn’t let it show on her face, but her mind does do a little bit of a stutter step as she finally lays eyes on the man. He’s younger than she expected, despite knowing he was close to her in age. But there’s also something about him… something almost otherworldly.
 
Blinking, she shakes herself ever so slightly to clear her mind, even as she continues to walk forward, ultimately coming to sit down at the table where the King is already seated. To his right is his Queen, Daenerys Targaryen, and when Lord Tarly sits down to Margaery’s right, she can’t help but stiffen just a little bit. Alas, she’s not in a position to say or do anything about it.
 
Before Lord Tarly can say anything, Margaery makes sure to speak up first, even if it might be rude to do so instead of letting the Targaryen King have the first word. She just… wants to get out in front, so to speak.
 
“Your Grace. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, and an honor to have you here in Highgarden. On behalf of House Tyrell… and indeed all the Reach, we welcome you.”
 
The way he looks at her, the would-be King without a Throne… it sends a shiver down Margaery’s spine. It’s like he can see right through her, and she’s very much not used to feeling like that. Not ever. Still, he smiles slightly and inclines his head in acknowledgment of her words.
 
“The pleasure is mine, Lady Tyrell. You have beautiful lands. I would hate to see anything happen to them. As such, you might be pleased to know that my armies have stopped the advance of the Faith Militant. We managed to stop them from crossing the Mander River and have fortified the town of Bitterbridge against their advance.”
 
For a moment, Margaery just smiles and nods as she assimilates this information. Then, her mind catches up with what she’s saying, and her smile freezes on her face. Wait…
 
Beside her, Lord Tarly also seems to catch up with what the Targaryen King has just said, and how it pertains to what HE told her a day before. Shifting in his armor, the Reach’s Military Commander finally seems to realize he needs to say something.
 
“Our own scouts reported that the Faith Militant had already made it past Bitterbridge and were closing in on Highgarden by the day.”
 
Eyes flicking over to the older man, the Targaryen King raises a single brow, before offering a gracious smile.
 
“Perhaps your scouts were mistaken or misinformed. Perhaps they mistook my forces for the Faith Militant. I assure you, Bitterbridge still stands, and the Mander remains uncrossed.”
 
Bristling at being corrected, even gently, Lord Tarly scowls openly now.
 
“You would have us believe that you have enough men to hold both the Mander AND arrive at Highgarden in force?”
 
Though she remains silent, Margaery is forced to admit that that’s a fairly good point. The army outside of Highgarden, not even counting the three dragons, is considerable. And yet…
 
“Yes.”
 
The Targaryen King’s answer is succinct and to the point, and holds not an ounce of deceit, as far as Margaery can tell. That doesn’t stop Randyll Tarly from bristling even more, however. Before the man can speak again and potentially ruin everything, either on purpose or by sheer pigheaded stubbornness, Margaery steps in.
 
“I am prepared to bend the knee, Your Grace.”
 
That gets his attention, as well as the attention of Lord Tarly. But Margaery plows right ahead, not hesitating for even a moment.
 
“I’m sure you’ve heard all sorts of rumors about me and my ambitions… but the truth is, I have no desire to be Queen… not anymore. My one and only desire is to see Highgarden rebuild from the losses we’ve suffered these past few years. For that to happen, for Highgarden and House Tyrell to be born anew… we need allies. And unfortunately, we are beset on all sides by enemies.”
 
As Margaery falls silent, Lord Tarly takes the opportunity to lean in close to her and speak.
 
“My Lady, I am not sure…”
 
But Margaery holds up a hand to cut him off. She wishes she had her grandmother with her, but the old woman in her dotage that Olenna Tyrell is feigning being right now would not come to a meeting such as this outside of Highgarden’s walls. In order to keep up the charade and in turn keep Olenna alive, Margaery had been forced to leave her behind.
 
Still, she cuts Lord Tarly off and keeps her eyes solely on the young King in front of her. He’s her age… and yet, Margaery doesn’t doubt that his experiences outstrip her by quite the wide margin. He’s not hesitating in the face of her admissions, but rather looking at her with a knowing, almost pitying smile.
 
“Your humility does you credit, Lady Tyrell. The relationship between the Starks and the Tyrells might have never been particularly tight purely for geographic reasons, but the relationship between the Targaryens and your House has ever been a close one. I would be happy to accept your pledge, and to welcome Highgarden into my Court. What would you need, for that to happen?”
 
Margaery doesn’t hesitate. If she did, she’s sure Randyll Tarly would try to get another word in edgewise.
 
“First and foremost, the Faith Militant must be removed from our lands. The people of the Reach have suffered enough. We will not have heretics claiming to be divine vessels of the Seven harming our subjects any further.”
 
Smiling, the King inclines his head in easy acknowledgment of that point. Behind Margaery, she hears the slight shifting of her honor guard. Tarly men they might be one and all… but they were also Reachmen. That was why she had made a point to see to THEIR most pressing concerns right away.
 
“Secondly, that House Tyrell and our place here in the Reach is reaffirmed by Your Grace, both now and after you’ve retaken the Iron Throne and reunited the Kingdoms of Westeros under your banner once more.”
 
Chuckling at that, the Targaryen King nods again.
 
“Of course. Though I must admit, I’m a little surprised by your surety that I will succeed.”
 
Resisting the urge to snort in an unladylike manner, Margaery settles for giving him a dry look instead.
 
“I’ve seen your dragons, Your Grace. I have no doubt you’ll succeed, as your ancestor before you. And as you say… the relationship between your House and my family has ever been a close one.”
 
Smirking, he acknowledges the point with another dip of his head. Letting out a low sigh, Margaery sucks in a deep breath… before going for broke, as one might say.
 
“And finally, if it pleases Your Majesty, I would put my name forward for consideration as Lady Paramount of the Reach, and Warden of the South. As the last living, cognizant member of House Tyrell, I find myself with the unenviable task of relying upon your grace if I am to rule in your name here.”
 
Beside her, Lord Tarly doesn’t quite come out of his chair, but it’s a damn near thing. Margaery likes to think only the mention of the Targaryen King’s dragons stays her military commander’s blade. She’s well aware she’s being heavy handed here, but she’s not going to get another chance like this one. And as she gazes into the Targaryen King’s eyes, she makes sure to convey with every fiber of her training just what she’s willing to do for him, if he agrees.
 
Based on the way he seems to see right through her, Margaery fully believes he sees what she’s offering, even if she doesn’t dare to tease anything more in case her own men see any hint of impropriety. Luckily, beyond a slight smile, the Targaryen King gives no reaction to what he may or may not be able to see. Instead…
 
“Consider it done.”
 
He chuckles, when everyone on the Highgarden side of the table, Margaery included, just stares at him, amazed.
 
“You might think this a difficult decision for me, simply because it’s not the ‘done thing’. But the ‘done thing’ is what got us into this mess in the first place, is it not? These last few years have not been kind to Westeros, and the Noble Houses have suffered greatly right alongside the peasantry and commonfolk. More than any of that though… I would be a hypocrite if I denied you, when I’ve already given the same rights to Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, my Lady Paramount and Warden in the North.”
 
Margaery’s eyes widen at that, as she now realizes why the announcer had been so ready to name her Presumptive to both of those positions. It would seem this Targaryen King was far more… open-minded than even she could have imagined.
 
Still, with concessions given and Lord Tarly speechless with impotent rage but unable to do anything to interfere, the deal was forged swiftly enough, with Lady Margaery Tyrell bending the knee and King Jon Targaryen accepting her pledge of loyalty, right then and there.
 
With that, she had no issue with inviting him and his retinue into the Castle proper… and soon enough, a feast was taking place.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Hours later, Margaery found herself in bedchambers, on her knees once more… before both the Targaryen King AND his Targaryen Queen. She’s a little drunk by this point, but not so much that she’s not still in complete control of her faculties as she works open the laces of King Jon’s breeches and pulls out his cock.
 
It’s quite sizable, his member. Margaery bites her lower lip as she stares at it, before glancing up at him… or rather, at the both of them. She’s quite glad she hadn’t decided to go any further than just attempting to secure her own position in Highgarden, because it’s obvious that Daenerys Targaryen is in a league of her own.
 
The gorgeous Queen is currently pressing herself into her King’s side, turning his head in her direction and kissing him deeply. As she lounges there on the bed next to him, she doesn’t seem to pay Margaery any mind. And so, Margaery figures she shouldn’t pay her any mind either. Seeing as she’d opened the door for this… well, she might as well get to work, right?
 
Slowly at first, she begins to bob up and down Jon’s cock. The King’s member is thick and throbbing, and bigger than any she’s ever had before. She doesn’t think he minds that she’s not a virgin, either. That sort of thing doesn’t matter to him, Margaery can already tell. The feast they’d had an hour ago had been one in which she’d heard many, many stories.
 
In fact, there was only one thing Margaery knew for sure that she wanted tonight. One thing she absolutely knew she had to achieve above all others. Because… well, the King had already given her the titles she’d asked for. He’d already secured House Tyrell’s place as the rulers of the Reach.
 
But he had not secured their future. Rather, he could not… that was something only Margaery could do. She needed an heir and fast. If she didn’t have a child soon, preferably a son no matter how open-minded her new liege was, then Margaery wouldn’t put it past even an old man with honor like Randyll Tarly to talk himself into doing away with her entirely. He’d convince himself that she wasn’t fit to rule the Reach and would resort to underhanded tactics to have her removed.
 
However, if she was pregnant… and not just pregnant, but pregnant with the Targaryen King’s child, well… that changed everything, didn’t it?
 
And so, Margaery continues to bob up and down on Jon’s cock, sucking away at his member and preparing him for what would hopefully soon be her seeding. He was a virile man, after all, and she a fertile young woman. It was a perfect match.

-x-X-x-

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