flowerbandits | marg & robb

marg & robb | closed

How the Tyrells had been able to do it, no one would ever know. Soon after her first husband's death, arrangements had been put in place to secure an alliance between the Tyrells and the North, through the marriage of their only daughter. Arrangements with the Freys were easily made to free him from prior engagements- leaving Margaery Tyrell free to travel North, to be united with her husband to be.

Her husband to-be is younger than her, but he is more than amiable, in both personalities and looks. When he is not otherwise occupied with storming the South and other duties required of the King in the North, she requests his company. She's spent hours by his side in his presence, carefully nurturing their relationship. She grows fonder of him day by day, and with it, the wedding seems further and further away.

It's a good thing she's very good at getting what she wants.

She stands outside of his chambers, waiting just the right amount of time, before she calls out to him.

"Your Grace?"

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His betrothal to Margaery has been a blessing to the North. Her father came with a great host and his grip on the South became stronger with every passing day. He had heard many stories about her. That she was beautiful, that her maidenhood still remained even after two marriages. That she was kind.

And when they first met he had been nervous, his heart pounding in his chest as if he were a boy. He hoped he would not ruin it, he hoped for love, he hoped for something intimate. Mayhaps she would grow to like him and the North he ruled over. At times he asked her. How she felt. What she was thinking. If she liked her chambers. What she thought of Winterfell's godswood. He had shown her the weirwood trees and the small chapel for the Seven.

That night he has gone to bed early, tired and worn down from the long day. He had been preparing for another march down South and he has held speeches and had war councils all day. When he hears Margaery's voice outside his door he forces himself to sit up again.

"What is it, my lady?"

Margaery isn't very sure what she had expected of Robb, only that it was not this. She'd heard stories about full, Northern men, and had hoped he wouldn't be like that. If he had, she would have had to learnt to deal with it- but he wasn't, and for this, she was thankful. He was kind enough. Always asking her questions, making sure that she was well taken care of in this place. And he was certainly handsome enough, too. If she could make him love her, she would have found herself with quite the match. Be the luckiest girl in the 7 Kingdoms.

She pretends to hesitate- she knows his days are both busy, and long. "It is nothing of consequence. Perhaps I will come back, at a later--" She pauses, giving him time to interject if he would like.

Robb rolls his shoulders and moves his hands through his hair. He hadn't seen the lady Margaery this day and it would be unfair to deny her. Quickly he moves out of his bed and wraps his robe around him. It is in no way decent but it is better than facing his future lady wife in the nude.

"Worry not..." He sits back on the bed. "You may enter."

He says not to worry, so she doesn't. She opens the door to his chambers, keeping close to the doors after she's entered the room, so she might make sure they're closed well behind her. She musters a soft smile at him, taking in the image of it all- him, clad only in his robe, upon his bed; and her, unescorted, in his chambers alone.

"I came only to see how you fair, and bid you goodnight, though it appears I was almost a little too late for that."

"My apologies," he mutters softly in return, bowing his head. "I should have come to see you. It has been a busy day. We will march on the morrow."

As he speaks he tucks his robe a little tighter around him.

"I almost forgot to say farewell to my wife to be. Thank the gods you have a better memory than I have."

"We will both thank the gods, for that." She smiles fondly upon him, stepping further into the room. "I know you have an early rise, so I shall take my leave soon. I could not have forgiven myself, should you have left without me seeing you. I won't be seeing you for some time, will I?"

Finally Robb stands again, slowly walking towards her. He looks a little weary but the smile around his lips is still a bright one.
"I am afraid not," he answers softly. "And I do not wish for you to travel with me. It is quite dangerous and I would not forgive myself if something would happen to you."

As he walks Grey Wind moves to stand as well, yawning loudly before he starts to trot after his master.

"So I am afraid this is a goodbye for now."

"I'll wait here, and pray to the gods for your safe return." Margaery responds, giving Grey Wind an approving look. "I know Grey Wind will keep you safe for me, so I need not worry. I shall have your brothers, and my handmaidens, to keep me company until you may return. And when you do, victorious, we will be married."

It might be proper to stop once he begins approaching her, but Margaery is ever bold. She does not stop in her approach until they are only inches away, where she can look up into her husband to be's eyes.

"Yes. It is goodbye, for now."

Robb smiles and nods at her words. Then they will get married.

"Aye, for now."

He nods once again and places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing carefully. After that he leans in carefully to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

"I do not think it will be difficult for us to grow fond of one another," he admits softly as his eyes drop down from her face to her hips. His lady mother had told him about her childbearing hips and apparently his mother had been right about that.

She leans into his grasp upon her shoulder, smiling affectionately upon him. Her hand finds its way to rest over his chest, a little bold perhaps, but easily dismissed as a gentle sign of affection. Nothing too scandalous.

"No, I think not. Though it has been a short time together, I must say I am quite fond of you already." The confession spills from her mouth easily, and she follows his eyes away from her face. There's a quip on her tongue that she holds back for now, but she is thankful she wore one of her tighter gowns for this particular visit.

Robb does not think anything scandalous about the hand resting against his chest, the thoughts inside his head are far more scandalous and he is glad that the lady Margaery cannot look inside his head. At times he has been thinking about how it would be to bed her. How manly he would be and how pleasurable she would find it.

"That is good to hear, my sweet lady." The smile on his face broadens a little and his cheeks turn a little red. "Mayhaps we could...grow to love one another one day."

The smile on her face does not fade as she leans a little closer to him. She even seems to brighten a little at the idea, her cheeks rosy in the candlelight of his chambers. "I hope so. I would like that very, very much."

Now it's her turn to let her eyes wander- taking in the site of his body, hidden from her by only a robe. She allows her eyes to linger upon his chest- drifting suggestively lower, before she tilts her head back up to meet his eyes again.

"I am sure we are able to make it work, my lady. Mayhaps the North will suit you in a way the South does."

Robb is not sure if she is blushing but she sure is leaning closer to him, their faces really close of a sudden. And she is definitely watching him and he can feel how her gaze goes over him. Lower and lower. And for that moment there is something between them. Something tense that wants to draw them closer.

"There is more than just cold and snow."

"It seems there is."

She can feel his heartbeat quickening under her palm, urging her on. He's warmed to her enough that she feels it safe to make a move- so she does, tilting her head upwards, and kissing him on the mouth.

She must've kissed her previous lord husbands many times. And maybe she has never been a maiden either. It could be that Joffrey consummated his marriage to her and how odd it is to be betrothed to the lady who used to belong to him. Her hand shifts a little against his chest and his eyes flicker from her face to said hand.

And when he looks up her lips are against his, his thoughts about Joffrey and Renly disappearing from his head. Her lips are warm and sweet and he can feel a tingle go up his spine.

"I have not kissed many..." he admits.

She draws back, her expression still warm as she gazes at him. His confession would make her laugh if he weren't her king, or if they knew each other better. Instead, the corner of her mouth twitches with the slightest bit of amusement, and she says nothing of it.

"I couldn't tell, your grace. Your lips are soft, and kind." Men like having their egos stroked, so it can't hurt to reassure him in this manner. She could kiss him again now, but she doesn't, hanging back so he might come and get her instead. It will likely please him to think everything after the initial kiss was his idea.

But Robb can feel his heart pounding in his throat and his cheeks burn furiously now. If the lady Margaery had any idea of marrying a man grown here stood the sole proof that that man was more of a boy than anything else.

"But they do not quite know..." All he knows are pressing kisses onto the lips of one of the kitchen maids. And he was only twelve back then. A curious boy with a head full of Theon's stories. But the tension between them is thick and fills the air with something sparkling. Like bubbles that keep on popping around them.

Still, he takes a step towards her and slides a calloused hand over her cheek. Her skin feels soft against his fingers and he swallows thickly. She is going to be his future wife, he should at least know how to kiss her properly.

She is ever patient with him, her palm still on his chest, the other hand sliding into place upon his shoulder. She sways her hips just gently with the movement, knowing that he's watching her, making sure she still appears enticing to him. Her eyes don't leave him, though they do occasionally glance away from his face, back to his body.

Her eyelids flutter shut as he reaches for her cheek, head tilting into his touch, lips pursed. She says nothing, not wishing to disturb him, but awaits what comes next with baited breath.

Robb wonders if she'd feel the same or if it was just curiosity driving her. It could very well be that she had high expectations of him. That he would conquer the bed the way he did with Westeros. But driving a sword through a man seems easier than to kiss a woman's lips.

"Is it truly what you wish? Don't you want to wait?" The words are careful and Robb looks at her with a curious look on his face.

Margaery's lips purse, her eyes opening again to look at Robb.

"Do you not desire me, your grace?" She doesn't think he's like Renly, but for a man to deny her is still surprising. "Have I done something to distress you?"

Oh. Oh no. Robb's eyes grow wide for a moment when she says that.

"No that is not it." He shakes his head. "You are most desirable, my lady." Still, he takes a step back, hoping that it will still the urges inside of him a little.

"I will be glad to return again soon so I can bed you...more properly."

Edited 2016-07-09 18:52 (UTC)

Margaery drops the hand between them, giving him the space he wishes.

"If you wish. You will be gone a while. I thought, perhaps, it might be a good memory, to keep us company."

Robb manages to catch her hand with his own.

"Would it be for you?" he asks, suddenly serious, his fingers curling around her hand. His eyes narrow a little when he asks that.

She doesn't tear away from him- freezes in place and allows him to capture her hand.

"Yes. It would be that for me."

For a moment the look on Robb's face darkens.

"A craven like Joffrey has never deserved you." He has only heard a couple of things from Sansa. Beatings and cruelty. "If you will it so I will give you that pleasant memory. I can tell you...worry not, it will be as pleasant for me as well."

Once agains he slides a hand over her cheek and this time his lips do cover hers.

Margaery almost tells him not to speak ill of the dead- she had escaped Joffery's wrath with only torn gowns and cruel words, thanks to her brother's near constant presence. She doesn't have a chance to speak, because his lips are suddenly covering hers.

Her eyes flutter shut as she allows him to take control of the kiss. There is plenty of time for her to teach him, during the marriage. For now, she will allow him to safely explore and dominate her. The hand not trapped within his finds its way back onto his shoulder, gently holding onto him.

But Robb holds enough of a grudge to not care for that. Joffrey has been a little weasel, a craven and a terrible king. He had always disliked him and after he heard of the atrocities he did to Sansa there was no love at all anymore.

While kissing her he squeezes her hand tighter. At first he merely moves his lips, not entirely knowing what to do with them. Theon once told him there could be tongues but that seems unlikely. He just listens to his heart and he realizes it is beating fast and that he is falling for her, faster than he imagined he would.

"Your lips are very soft. It is pleasant to kiss them..."

His kissing is still clumsy and unpracticed, surprising from an attractive young King. It's not awful either, and she steps closer to him, leaving almost no room between them. When they're done kissing, Margaery rests her head against his shoulder- lips almost brushing against his neck.

"Thank you, your grace. I am enjoying your lips as well."

When the kiss is done he finds himself panting softly, guilty of getting a little bit more excited than he wanted to be. The lady Margaery is still close to him and he can feel her breath against his neck. Robb can’t help it to turn his head a little, the tip of his nose brushing against her ear.

“I hope it has been worthwhile,” he whispers. “I hate to disappoint my betrothed.”

But he remains close, the fingers of one hand sliding over her arm. It would be folly to lose himself now, but on the other hand, it would be so sweet. So very, very sweet. And he could initiate it. More kisses, more awkward touches, less clothes.

“Show me what you know of, my lady.”

His lips against her ear makes her shiver, her hands smoothing over his chest.

"You would have to try, to disappoint me. You're far too handsome, for your own good."

He's asked her to show him what she knows- a dangerous challenge. She may still be a maid, but kissing, that she's done. That, and her gaggle of cousins talk too much, filling her head with all sorts of ideas. She must hold back, but she can still give him ideas. She guides his head gently back to her with two fingers underneath his chin, pulling him in to kiss her. She waits until she's warmed him up with a sweet, delicate kiss, before she sweeps her tongue across his lips, asking for entry.

To be fair, Robb does not want her hands to leave his chest. Not that he dares to admit it, but it arouses him a little.

"You truly are far more beautiful. You would put all the flowers in Highgarden to shame, my lady," he whispers in her ear, lips lightly brushing the shell.

He realizes he should reign himself in before he would lose himself in all that he has only seen whores do to his men. And this could all be very innocent, not? Just a future husband and wife getting to know one another a little more. The kiss she gives him is surprisingly delicate, soft and full of promise. It makes him utter some sort of awkward gasp, as if he is the maiden instead of the man. Thank the gods Robb is able to put one and one together when he feels her tongue slide across his lips. Almost automatically he opens his mouth to allow her access, carefully meeting her tongue with his own.

Her hands do not yet leave his chest, instead running over it, thumbs sliding to gently hook under the neckline of his robe. She doesn't do anything with it just yet- just spirals her thumbs over bare skin as she focuses on kissing him.

Kissing him does require a bit of focus, and a bit of restraint. The gasp makes her smile, but she doesn't say anything of it, and she doesn't laugh at him. She would hate to hurt her future husband's pride, not when she's working so hard to build up his trust in her. She tilts her head just so, improving their angle, and slips her tongue into his mouth. Nothing exciting is done yet- just some lazy exploration with her tongue as she learns his taste.

This is exciting. Robb can feel his cheeks burn and he is quite sure he has never been more aware of a touch as he has been now the lady Margaery is moving her fingers over his skin. The kiss is a slow one and she seems to gradually deepen it, tilting her head a little as she does. There is nothing hasty about the way their tongues move against each other but it does do things to his body that have never been done before.

Something is making his heart beat faster and he dares to press forward a little, a hand moving to gently cup the right side of her face. Has he ever felt skin so smooth? He does not dare to give in further, trying to ignore the way his body is heating up, especially far underneath his robe.

The kiss is all too sweet, but eventually, Margaery has to break it to breathe. She draws back, but her hands remain planted on his chest, rubbing it with gentle adoration.

"Will you still have me leave?" She asks, soft and quiet, drawing one hand back to reach up and brush across his cheek.

He should send her back. He should tell her to wait until their marriage and the bedding that would come after that. He has waited for a while now and why couldn’t he wait just a little more. But then again, he is not entirely familiar with the concept of lust and desire. And he does not know at all about it can cloud his mind and make his brains migrate to his cock.

“Do you want to stay?” Robb’s voice trembles a little and he can’t help to lean into her touch, his heart hammering fast inside his chest. What if those hands of hers would drift lower, what if they would reach to untie his robe. Would she desire him? “I want you to... If you wish it so...”

He figures that he would like it and his cheeks flush once again and before he speaks again he swallows deeply.

“You may take it off... If you want to see more of... Or touch...”

She is pleased he does not send her away, her fingers running across his jawline. "If I may be bold, I would like to stay, your Grace." She whispers, her exterior calm and self assured. Inside, she is anxious and careful, not wanting to overstep her bounds or cause him disappointment. "I would very much like to stay."

She's been careful about this- made sure none of her cousins, or even Loras, would note her absence. And no one would dare disturb a King, the night before he marches off. They are together, alone, and it's enough to bring a rosy glow to her cheeks as her hands fall to the tie of his robe. "Thank you, your Grace." She says, her movements slow as she pulls the garment open to admire his body.

Then that is that. She is going to stay and he is quite sure that he will have her this night. His skin tingles pleasantly and he allows himself to sigh heavily with relief. “Then you may...”

Still, they had to be careful, silent. But the tension between them is real, almost something palpable. Thick and unable to ignore. He can see her hands drop lower, lovely fingers curling around the tie that keeps his robe together. The idea that she will see him excites him more than it frightens him. After all, Robb Stark thinks himself as a brave man, not often scared.

“I like it better if you use my name, my sweet lady...” He licks his lips. “Your soft hands...” Every thought that comes up in his head goes straight to his cock now. There is no way he can stop it now. “I beg of you...”

He is not even sure what he is begging for but everything she could do to him must be fantastic.

"Only if you shall do the same for me." She's hushed, her hands resting upon his chest as she looks upon him approvingly. There should be perhaps more shame to her- she should be more mild, more shy. The rosy glow in her cheeks doesn't seem to be from embarrassment, as it ought to be. "Robb." Her voice is honey sweet.

"What would you have me do?" She asks, hands sliding down his body, resting above this stomach. He's everything she imagined, and more.

At first he felt a little embarrassed, trying to will away his lust and desire, telling himself that this is not fitting to give in to it now. But as she started to touch him, to kiss him and speak to him in such a convincing way, every bit of doubt has disappeared. Her words awaken a boldness inside of him that makes him step forward and cup one of her breasts with his hand.

“The feel of your hands is already very pleasant,” he answers softly, leaning in so he can brush his lips against hers. “I imagine...what they might do somewhere lower.”

Has he ever seen a woman so beautiful? He is sure he hasn’t.

“I take it you wonder as well...” He squeezes the breast he is cupping lightly. “Is it not?”

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