45 Plucked Rose

Edric suddenly rose and pushed Margaery down beneath him. His shimmering blue eyes looked into hers for a long moment. Her face flushed a slight cherry red by the unexpected act.

He raised his hands and grasped hers, locking them above her head. 

"Tonight, I don't want us to ride to the North or Dorne, nor anywhere else. No… not at all." Edric paused, his lips turning into a grin. "I want to mount you, Margaery. Like a beautiful rose that's been waiting arm's reach for too long, I wish to pluck you from the earth and take you for myself."

Her heart quickened, beating wildly as she remained trapped under Edric's immensely strong figure. Three Margaerys couldn't match him, let alone one. Her lips curled into an innocent yet enthralling smile.

"Is that so…?" She tilted her head slightly. "I didn't think you'd be so bold, Your Grace. Nor so… mischievous-"

"You think I wouldn't dare?" Edric had lowered his head and whispered into her ear. "Always lingering around me… speaking such sweet little words, praising me and trying to draw my attention at every turn. Well, now you have it…."

"It's all rather sudden…" Margaery acted shy, glancing away. 

"If you are not as daring as I, just say the word, and I'll let you break free."

"How could I deny you, my sweet King?" She pursed her lips, gazing into his eyes. "If it is your wish… then I am yours. You can do as you like with me."

"As I like, huh? " Edric grinned slightly. "I ought to punish you for being so insistent on tempting me, day to day…"

He lowered his hands and firmly grasped her head, pressing his lips against hers. As he continued pressing the sttack, Margaery reciprocated this act, slipping her tongue inside of his mouth. His eyes widened slightly as she began french kissing. This… only fueled the flame in his heart further.

Their snog lasted quite some time, as Edric's passion seemed as endless as his bloodlust. He had slipped his hand beneath the top of her dress, grasping one of her breasts while he kissed her neck. Then, he whispered softly yet with an aura of authority:

"You belong to me… and only me."

Margaery blushed as Edric's eyes flashed a luminous violet purple.

"I shall give you a crown of white tonight, sweet Margaery."

…

"Oooooh, yes… GODS, yes!" Margaery screamed from inside the bedchamber, her pleasure echoing in the hallway. "Just like that, my mighty King… just like th… ahhhh~"

Loras took a deep breath as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Though it was for duty and their family, the whole standing guard while your beloved sister was getting her back blown out was more awkward than he imagined it to be. 

Not only that, but they were also supremely loud… and didn't stop—not for a long, long time.

Minutes turned to half an hour, half an hour turned whole… 

Over an hour, their dance lasted. By then, all he heard was thunderous humping sounds and distant mumbling by Margaery. He could only imagine how hard and rough a powerful young man like Edric could be. His stamina, as well… he had seen it all on the field countless times before. 

Loras bit his tongue, sighing.

His mind turned to what Edric had been in his youth, no more than a bastard with a wild temperament and hardly any friends. He could've never imagined back that little brat would be having his way with Margaery… but here he was, King, and someone even he had grown to admire. The way he soared, year by year, and took the Seven Kingdoms by storm…

It was impressive, without a doubt. Loras had even found himself strangely fond of the white cloak and the brotherhood that came with it.

Eventually, the door creaked open, and a weary Margaery slowly stepped out - holding onto the wall. Parts of her dress were very clearly torn, her hair was a tangled mess, and her skin looked awfully slimy. 

"... Are you alright?" Loras blinked as Margaery fell into him. He had never seen her look so much a mess. 

"I… am tired, is all." Margaery smiled slightly. "Edric… he had almost bedridden me."

"Did he… hurt you?" Loras questioned with a concerned tone.

"He was rough, I suppose…" Margaery chuckled, her eyes looking dreamy as if she was someplace else. "But… I did enjoy it. Quite a lot, in truth."

"Half of Storm's End heard you." Loras tilted his head slightly as he looked at her. "I thought you were doing so intentionally…"

"No, I did not have to act." She chuckled. "Edric is a Baratheon, and they are known for their passion and virility. I'm not even sure who seduced who, in truth. Gods, he did not stop… going on and on. The moment he finished, he was ready again. You would think that he would be more tired with all the wine he had drank, but no…"

"If so…" Loras paused, changing the subject slightly. "Would that mean that you will have his first child?"

"He covered me in his seed from head to toe and flooded my womb." Margaery chuckled, slowly nodding. "I made sure to make the most of it. If it is any bit fertile, then there is no doubt…"

"A resounding success, then," Loras remarked. "Edric is not his father; I am most certain he will take responsibility. This will bind you two together."

"We will have to see." Margaery looked at him. "I… don't think that I will be able to go far on my own."

"Let me carry you."

"No, you have your duty as a Kingsguard…" 

"Who would harm Edric in Storm's End, of all places? It would only be a few minutes."

"... I think it's better if I return to my lover's embrace and keep him company." Margaery smiled, shaking her head. "Don't worry about anything except guarding the door."

She turned away and returned to Edric's bedchamber.

'Is it more duty or pleasure?' 

He wondered.

~

Across the world.

Daenerys came to know almost everything there was to know about Edric. His childhood in Storm's End, how he won his goldenheart bow, dominated the melee in the Hand's Tourney, was knighted by Jaime Lannister and became the youngest knight in history, his legitimisation by Robert and how he swiftly departed from King's Landing afterwards…

"Wouldn't that be any bastard's wish?" Daenerys questioned, raising an eyebrow. "To be a prince?"

"Aye, for most boys, it would… but Edric loved his lady more than the name he had been given. He was willing to forsake it all for her." Barristan sighed, shaking his head. "What followed… was a great tragedy…"

Daenerys didn't interrupt, listening rather keenly.

"They say the great storm moved south-east and sank her ship. Edric would return not too long after, once the Hand's Tournament had already ended." Barristan lowered his gaze. "He… was not the same. He entered the great hall and put a knife to Joffrey's throat after he had mocked him, forcing him to address him as Edric Storm."

"He drank more than his fill, having to be carried away by Lord Renly and several others. Not soon after, another great storm would erupt, and Edric would rest for nearly a month."

"Rest…?"

"Many thought that he had died, in truth. Alas, his heart remained beating throughout it all…" Barristan paused. "When he woke, it was as if he had been reborn. He took to his duties sternly and sent for his uncle Stannis while joining his father's hunt."

He continued on, speaking of the way he pulled the rug from under the Lannisters and heroically fought in King's Landing. He would speak of his part in the Lannister rebellion, how he had killed hundreds with arrows alone, took command, and avoided a prolonged siege in the Golden Tooth by simply terrifying all of the defenders. He would proceed to the execution of Tywin Lannister and later the mercy of Jaime Lannister, culminating with Tyrion and Kevan bending the knee.

Then, the invasion of the Iron Isles with the fleets of the Westerlands and Reach… which was another resounding success where Edric hadn't lost a single battle and thoroughly crushed his opposition.

Finally, he ended at Edric's entire small council dismissing his wishes which lead to him taking matters into his own hands.

"So… he sent you here on the knowledge that I have three dragons?" Daenerys questioned, raising an eyebrow. "What were his intentions behind this?"

"I believed he wished for you to return home and rectify his father's actions as best he could," Barristan said, looking at Daenerys. "He wishes to honour the legacy of House Targaryen, whose Kings forged the Realm."

"And not because he was terrified of the dragons he dreamed of?" Daenerys tilted her head.

"I cannot speak on his thoughts… but, if he truly were afraid, he would have most certainly sent men to kill you."

"Hm…" Daenerys' eyes observed the aged Kingsguard. "If he truly wishes to honour the legacy of the House of the Dragon, he should give me the throne that is rightfully mine. He could serve me, as the Baratheons of the past served their Kings. Or has a taste of true power made him unable to give it up?"

"I do not believe His Grace would set aside his crown."

"... It's a shame," Daenerys remarked, thinking of Barristan's retelling. Edric was much like the heroes she loved hearing and reading about in her youth. Only that instead of ending happily ever after, his love ended in tragedy. "He sounds like a remarkable person who should have never been King. He is better fit a knight."

"He has the makings of a great King," Barristan contested. "I do not believe he wears the crown for power. He rules for the Realm… he rules because it is his duty, not because of any selfish desire. He is the person the Realm rallies behind, not Renly, Stannis, nor anyone else… he is the one keeping it all together. In my mind, bar any accidents; he shall be the greatest King I've ever served."

Daenerys frowned at that statement.

"I have much to think about, Ser Barristan. I shall see you at a later time."

She thought of the dream she had earlier. That figure… it hadn't been the Usurper, no. It was Edric Storm. The polarizing King who, despite learning quite a bit about, remained a mystery. Not even his Kingsguard knew his truest intentions. 

She wondered if he wanted more than just for her to return home… perhaps he had desired to make her his queen. Why else would he go so far as to send the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard? The thought was amusing to her if anything else.

He would make a worthy husband if all Barristan had said were true, without a doubt. Perhaps the most worthy man in all of the known world.

Alas… she had not gone this far to be a mere queen consort. She was of the Blood of the Dragon, the last Targaryen and mother of three dragons. If he did not submit to her will, she would have to serve him fire as Aegon did to his opposition.

Or so, that was her thinking at that time…

~

I was holding something soft in my arms. Hm… it smelt strange. I moved my head closer and felt hair.

'Hold on…'

I opened my eyes and took a moment to process the scene before me. My arms weren't wrapped around an imaginary pillow or my sheets, no. They were wrapped around a lady.

Not just any lady, however, which would be bad enough… it was bloody Margaery Tyrell, the Rose of Highgarden, whose maidenhood is priceless.

… And I'm pretty sure drunk me had simply taken it and her honour along with it.

'Fuck me. Not even Robert would be as daring as my drunken self…'