ARC III: THE AWAKENING OF THE DRAGONS AND THE WAR OF THE EMPIRE
Chapter 34: The Autumn Crown and the Awakening of the Vines
POV: Empress Margaery Tyrell (299 AC)
On the immense bed of the royal suite—which now, with the founding of the Empire, had been properly elevated to the **imperial suite**—the first sunbeams of the day had already risen on the horizon long ago. However, the feverish activity in that room continued without interruption since the previous night.
On the large carved armchair in front of the fireplace, fed by a magical fire that never went out, the imperial couple was in the midst of their own private battle. I was sitting on my husband's lap, in what he used to call the "cowgirl position." Riding him with strength and vigor, I felt his every movement synchronize perfectly with my impulses, making our bodies collide with a firm, wet, and rhythmic impact.
With one last deep, upward thrust, Arawyn held my body firmly against his, pinning me in his titanic arms as he released his entire warm essence directly into the depths of my womb.
I let out a breathless groan against his neck before sliding off his lap. Positioning myself on my knees on the cushions at the foot of the armchair, I guided his still-rigid member directly to my mouth. I knew perfectly well how to make him pulse with just the touch of my tongue, something he always praised by saying I possessed a "divine talent" for it—which, honestly, I never knew whether to interpret as a compliment to my dedication or a tease to my dignity as a highborn lady.
A firm knock on the door interrupted the silence of the room, and soon the door was opened. Ros entered the bedroom with her impeccable posture and already fully dressed; after all, today was the day the Emperor would formally marry his second wife.
"— My Emperor, —" Ros announced, keeping her eyes discreetly averted from our nudity. "— The preparations for the ceremony must begin. The delegation of the Free Folk is already gathering in the courtyard."
Arawyn gave a gentle but firm tug on my hair—which he held tightly to guide the movements of my head.
"— Well, my Empress... —" he said, his voice hoarse with satisfaction. "— It seems we will have to leave our breakfast incomplete for now."
I rose from the floor, wiping the corner of my lips with the back of my hand and laughing at his audacity. I walked naked to the immense glass window to receive the sunlight directly on my skin, allowing the warmth of the sun to recharge my plant magic matrices and restore the vigor needed for the long day ahead.
"— Perhaps you should finish your morning work with your red priestess, my Emperor, —" I teased, looking askance at him.
Arawyn let out a loud laugh as he stood up from the armchair.
"— Uh, no. That old woman thinks she fools me with that appearance of a young mystic. If she takes that red gem necklace off her neck for a second, she immediately shrivels up, looking just like a shriveled passion fruit left in a drawer."
I narrowed my eyes, confused by his peculiar choice of words.
"— What in the name of the gods is a 'passion fruit'? —" I asked.
"— A fruit you do not know, —" he answered simply, shrugging.
Sometimes my dear husband said things that made absolutely no sense to me. I was a Tyrell of the Reach; if any edible fruit with that name existed in Westeros, no matter how exotic, I would certainly know of its existence. But I decided not to question him; over time, I learned that Arawyn's eccentricities were just part of his fascinating nature.
After bathing and washing myself properly in the waters warmed by magical enchantments, I began to dress and coordinate the preparations for the day's festivities.
Even knowing that this arrangement was crucial to guarantee the definitive loyalty of the lands beyond the Wall, I could not deny that it was a strange and peculiar feeling to organize a wedding feast to celebrate the union of my own husband with another woman. In the courtyard and corridors, the astute eyes of my dear grandmother, Lady Olenna, actively searched for any trace of jealousy or hesitation on my face. But unfortunately for her, the Queen of Thorns had taught me all too well the art of maintaining a mask of perfect aristocratic serenity.
In the Great Hall, I briefly crossed paths with Cersei Lannister. She was discussing logistical details with the castle steward, Vayon Poyle, regarding the distribution and hanging of the new imperial banners on the stone walls.
The Queen Mother of the Neck was absolutely radiant. I did not know exactly how or where she had obtained it, but she flaunted a new crown over her golden curls; this one was considerably larger, more ornate, and imposing than the one she wore before yesterday's feast. That woman's arrogance seemed to grow proportionally to the power of her son, Robb.
The wedding ceremony took place in the Godswood of Winterfell, following the Northern pattern I already knew: swift, direct, and without the tedious religious filler typical of the South. Before the ancestral weirwood tree, Lord Mance Rayder formally handed the wild princess over to the Emperor, who accepted her as his legitimate second wife before the Old Gods.
The feast that followed in the Great Hall maintained the same atmosphere of abundance, but the cultural mix of the former Free Folk with the proud lords of the North brought a fascinating dynamism to the environment. It was amusing to watch the current Lord of the Frostfangs, Tormund, compete with giant horns of mead in a rowdy drinking contest against the immense Lord Greatjon Umber, while the other nobles cheered.
However, before the drinking took over the entire hall, the most anticipated moment occurred: the formal coronation of the new Empress. This time, the court had prepared with mastery.
Prince Ned Stark approached the imperial throne accompanied by his sister, Princess Lyanna. She carried in her hands a dark velvet cushion supporting the new crown. Unlike my crown of amethyst and silver, which had been designed to represent the liveliness and blooming of Spring, the crown delivered to Val was made of polished bronze and adorned with amber and carved leaves, symbolizing the harvest and transition of the Autumn Crown.
As I watched Arawyn place the piece over the wild blonde's head, I couldn't help but smile at a playful thought: how on earth does my sex-crazed husband plan to find a wife to symbolize the Empress of Summer in the future?
Later, back in the imperial suite's chambers, the scene was considerably calmer than the nobles outside imagined. There were no torn clothes or rushed lust; for now, the three of us were wearing light sleepwear, merely savoring spiced wine from the Reach.
Val was sitting on the edge of the bed, drinking vigorously from an immense wooden mug instead of a fine metal goblet. She seemed irritated by courtly etiquette.
"— So, Val dear... —" I asked, approaching with my goblet in hand. "— How does it feel to formally be an Empress of Winter now?"
"— Your wine is good, —" she grumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her fur-gloved hand. "— But the way all those lords stared at me during the feast... It felt like they wanted to dissect me as if I were some exotic beast brought from the ice. It is already deeply irritating me."
I let out a light laugh, sitting down beside her and gently touching her shoulder.
"— Do not worry about that. With time, you will learn to use their stares as a weapon of power in your favor. I will guide you and teach you courtly etiquette myself, just as the two of us agreed before."
Val turned her face toward me, staring at me with genuine curiosity in her blue eyes.
"— You are very different from what I imagined you would be, Margaery Tyrell."
"— And what did you imagine I would be? —" I questioned, arching an eyebrow.
"— I thought we would be mortal enemies the moment I crossed that door, —" she admitted directly. "— I thought you would hate me, thinking I was trying to steal your space beside your husband."
I burst into a sincere laugh, amused by her wild innocence.
"— Oh, do not worry about that, my dear. Arawyn had already explained to me in detail the entire strategy behind our union before we even marched to the deep North. Besides, polygamy is not uncommon in these lands; it is not just Arawyn and Uncle Ned who have two wives under the same roof in the North. Here, we share the weight and the pleasure of ruling."
Arawyn, who until then had only been silently observing our conversation from the armchair, finished drinking his cup of wine and set it aside on the table.
"— Very well... I think we have talked enough for today. It is time we start the real work, don't you think? —" he said, a hungry glint in his grey eyes.
With a single gesture of his hand, we were flung toward the center of the soft mattress by an influx of invisible energy.
"— Brutish Northern idiot... —" I grumbled, laughing as I settled into the silk sheets.
Arawyn approached the bed with his massive presence, looming over the two of us.
"— My dear Margaery... —" he called out with a corner smirk. "— Could you give me a hand with controlling the reins of this wild she-wolf here?"
I laughed at the provocation and activated my own magic. Under my command, thin but indestructible green vines sprouted from the crevices of the bed's enchanted wood, wrapping rapidly around Val's limbs. The plants bound and immobilized her wrists and ankles against the headboard posts. The wild blonde tried to pull and strain against the restraints with her remarkable physical strength, but she soon realized that the magical vines would not yield a single inch to her efforts.
Arawyn positioned his titanic body over hers, staring down at her with absolute arrogance.
"— So, my little wild princess... now I am going to teach you in detail how we, the civilized peoples of the South, consummate our unions."
Val opened her mouth to utter some audacious insult at him, but I acted quickly, causing the magical vines to bloom and create a large, dense flower bud directly over her mouth, silencing her and allowing her to emit only muffled grunts of protest.
Arawyn let out a boisterous laugh at my intervention and, with his usual raw style, pushed his hips forward, burying himself entirely inside his new wife. The vine restraints forced her to remain perfectly in the missionary position—another of the many strange nomenclatures Arawyn had brought to our bed.
I will not lie to myself: the dynamic of immobilizing others or myself using my plant magic for Arawyn's pleasure had become an extremely exciting practice over the months. While I awaited my turn to be taken, I lay comfortably on my side on the mattress, savoring the rest of my spiced wine and watching the vigor with which my husband dominated the wild she-wolf under the sheets.
After a few minutes of an overwhelming rhythm, Arawyn released his entire seed inside Val for the first of many times that would come that night. He withdrew from her with a satisfied sigh and turned his glowing green eyes in my direction.
"— This was only the first consummation of many we will perform throughout our next two weeks of bedding ceremony, —" he announced with a predatory smile.
I approached him from behind, wrapping my arms around his muscular torso and kissing his broad back.
"— Two whole weeks, my Emperor? —" I asked, amused. "— But you only married a single woman today, my dear husband."
Arawyn turned quickly, pulling me tightly by the waist and tossing my body directly over Val, who still remained bound and panting beneath the vines.
"— My love and my desire for you make every single day by your side feel like a new wedding, Margaery, —" he replied, hovering over me.
I looked into his eyes, arching an eyebrow with absolute mockery.
"— If you really have so much free time to make beautiful, romantic speeches right now, husband... I do not know why your member is not buried deep inside my slit at this exact second."
Arawyn let out a mock laugh of indignation, shaking his head.
"— Ungrateful woman... here I am trying to be at least a little poetic and romantic with my Empress, and you can only think of carnal lust. It is because of depraved and sex-crazed people like you that the progress of the world does not go forward."
Before I could answer, I saw his hand rest directly on the center of my chest. He did not do it to caress me; his fingers touched the central magical mark of my body, temporarily seizing control of my own elemental energy through his superior power.
Forcing my plant magic to act independently against my will, the magical vines of the bed rose quickly and wrapped around my limbs, binding me in the exact same position of submission Val was in: with my legs spread in a V-shape, my ankles tied firmly to my thighs, and my hands secured behind my back.
Arawyn positioned himself between my open thighs, looking down at me with a victorious smile.
"— Since my Empress desires to satisfy her carnal lust so much today... I will make your wish come true immediately."
He pushed his hips forward with force, penetrating me entirely all at once and starting the movement at his maximum speed. Just as it had happened with Val, I found myself reaching the peak of pleasure several consecutive times before I felt him release his entire heat inside me.
The entire night passed at that wild and unshakeable pace. Arawyn spent the hours testing the most exotic and complex positions of what he called the "Kamasutra." I had not the slightest idea what that word meant or where he had pulled those concepts from, but I certainly never imagined that the human body could be savored in so many different and pleasurable ways in a single night.
At dawn, the bedroom door was quietly opened, and Ros entered carrying a large tray with our breakfast, aiming to ease our physical exhaustion. But to my astonishment, the addition of a third woman to our dynasty seemed only to have further fueled the insatiable fire of the Emperor of Winter.
I looked at Val beside me in bed, who was already wearing a satisfied and tired smile amidst the sheets. In the end, it would be two extremely long and exhausting weeks of bedding celebrations... but then again, I certainly was not complaining about a thing.