#Margaery Tyrell x m!OC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

christinamadsen · 1 year ago

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I love this Soulmate Serie so much! 😍❤️‍🔥

The Viper's Bride - ch 13

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid. This is a MMFF polycule, folx. Get on board or don't click to keep reading. Pregnancy!* Fluff, support, love, and surprises. Summary: Margaery learns the truth about what Raeden means to you, and it leads to an unexpected conversation. Notes: Listen, I just think Margaery needs a hug and some time to chill, okay?

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

The days blend into weeks and the trial continues to drag on. Luncheons with Queen Margaery blur together, dinners at your own table in your chamber make way every evening to hours in bed. The idea of being anywhere besides the comfort of your lovers’ arms each night is now impossible, although all four of you do not always sleep in one bed. It is more frequent, though, and always a comfort.

“Are you sure you wish for me to join?” Every day when Margaery extends the invitation to Raeden to join you for the midday meal, he asks you. Not wishing to impose, even though the request is from the queen.

“Of course.” He always asks, and your reply is always the same. Raeden’s company is always wanted for you and Ellaria, but apparently also for the queen.

“I did not know if there were things you wished to discuss privately.” He murmurs softly, feeling proud when you wrap your arm around his.

“Anything I could say privately, can be said with you present,” you remind him gently. Since the revelation of having more than one soulmate, you had promised your lovers that you would never keep a secret from them again. It had made you wholly uncomfortable and upset to do so.

“Just so,” Margaery agrees, motioning to the table that has been laid, indicating the three of you should sit. “We are all friends, are we not?”

“It is an honor to be considered a friend, your highness.” Raeden doesn’t understand why Margaery seems so interested in him eating with her, but he has enjoyed getting to know the younger woman.

“Hopefully it is not a consideration that is one sided.” She sits at the round table in her customary chair and wine is poured immediately.

The young man who serves each luncheon is under the impression you do not much enjoy wine and has begun to serve you sweetened lemon juice with water added, which seems to be more to your taste. In fact, wine was the first thing to start tasting bitter and undesirable since you found yourself with child. Ellaria had laughed and said children were like that – that you lost taste for things and gained taste for others because of them.

“Thank you, as always, for so graciously hosting us.” Raeden tells her with a small smile after taking a sip of his wine. Despite the two enchanting soulmates he possesses, there is something about the widowed queen that is easy to be around.

“It is a comfort to have such steadfast company,” She admits, her smiles having changed over the weeks from painted on, to weak, and soft and true. “I have you both to thank for that.” Ellaria is always a welcome presence as well, but Margaery understands the older woman has no taste for politics and the trial specifically. It is a distaste that she shares, though she cannot afford to express it.

“The company is always marvelous with the Princess.” He acknowledges, sending you a small smile and reaching for a piece of fruit that you have been craving ravenously the past few days.

“I would call you a flatterer except I appreciate the compliment.” Your own smile is relaxed, and you anticipate the fresh-looking apricot with gratitude. “Raeden is never insincere,” you assure the queen. “It is one of his virtues.”

“There is no merit to being insincere.” He defends with a small shrug. “If you cannot trust a man’s word, you cannot trust him.”

"That is not, unfortunately, the type of opinion one normally hears from noblemen." Margaery acknowledges as dishes of meat, vegetables, and fresh rolls are unveiled on the table before them. "What shall we talk about today?"

“I think that the two lovely ladies I have the privilege of dining with should choose.” He decides with a wink. “Anything you would like.”

"I cannot say that I have very much new to speak of," you hum, still playing the news of your pregnancy very close to your vest. No one knows beyond your small family and the maester, who has graciously been admitting you to the Citadel once weekly at Oberyn's request to make sure your health stays at its peak. "Perhaps you will be willing to speak of something older, then?" Margarey sits up in her seat while her plate is filled on her behalf, used to the ceremony although she dislikes being treated like a doll. Not being allowed to do anything for herself is immensely taxing on the mind. "You speak so well of each other, yet I know nothing of your bond beside the fact that Lord Raeden was once your guard, during his time serving your father."

The question is one that was loaded, and Raeden looks towards you to see you if you unwilling to tell the truth. If you were, he would say nothing, but there is a small nod when he catches your eye and he realizes that the fear of what people will think is now a thing of the past. Perhaps your mother’s departure from King’s Landing and your earnest conversations with your father have made it so. However, he thinks it has a lot to do with your marriage to Oberyn and his complete acceptance of the situation. “The strange truth is, your highness, the princess is my soulmate.”

Whatever she might have been expecting, that is certainly not it, and Margaery's glass nearly cracks at how hard she sets it down on the table. "Gods above," she murmurs, looking between you both with wide eyes. "Truly?"

"Truly." When you nod you also reach for Raeden's hand, placing yours on top of his on the table. "We have been fortunate to be able to hold on to each other through despite many challenges."

A million different questions roll through her brain at once as she sees your joined hands. Wondering if she was being tricked as some elaborate plot, but there is obvious affection for each other in your gazes. “I— does the Prince know?” She asks quietly, lowering her voice and leaning in.

"He has known since before we were married." You nod, interested to note that she seemed genuinely concerned. As though the happiness of those involved was a priority, which would be a welcome thing if it turns out to be true.

“That is….” She shakes her head gently. “Wonderful. I have heard that the prince is open in many ways but the fact that he is accepting of your soulmate?” She sighs softly. “You are blessed by the Seven.”

"I cannot deny it." It would be a terrible lie to claim otherwise, and you have no desire to do so. "To love my husband and my soulmate equally is a blessing that I had never looked for but am very glad to have found."

"You love the prince?" She seems shocked by that admission and her eyes dart over to Raeden's to see if there is any jealousy. None are found in his dark orbs and she is equally intrigued by such a thing.

“Very much.” And the freedom to feel that in your bones without hesitation — to accept it as you always accepted your love for Raeden — is something wonderful. “Of course it is not common to love more than one person at once. But it can be done, and it can be gloriously fulfilling.”

"Yes." Margaery would not disagree with such a thing; she knows that the heart and what you are supposed to want are sometimes conflicting things. It was why she had been willing to share her first husband. "And the Prince's lover?" Ellaria has become dear to her, but she does not quite understand the dynamic.

Oberyn and Ellaria are not shy or secretive about their relationship or what they are to each other, so when Raeden sits up in his chair a little straighter he does not feel as if he is betraying anyone’s confidence. “Soulmates as well,” he tells the queen.

“I was lucky to find myself betrothed to a man who also understood not being able to marry the person he loves.” You know this, and yet it is the happiest part of the unfortunate way you came together. “Fortunately for Ellaria, she did not wish to be princess and I was well prepared for the duty.”

"I see." She takes a sip of her wine and mulls over the information that you have just given her. It would be likely that whoever married Lord Raeden in the future, to establish his house, would have to be accepting of sharing her husband. Despite men doing as they wish for centuries, it did not mean that women had accept it quietly.

“This is not what you expected to hear, I think?” Her manner makes that obvious, and you sit up to your plate with interest as well as hunger.

Raeden finishes pealing and slicing the fruit, sliding it onto your plate and smiling when you hum. "It is an odd thing to hear from anyone, my love." He reminds you. "Especially from nobility and even more so from the Princess of Dorne."

“Perhaps.” You can agree to that, and pick up a slice of fruit eagerly. “But friends are honest, are they not?”

Margaery hums in agreement and she nods. "Do you...may I come to your chambers tonight to discuss our honesty?" She asks with a raised brow.

You exchange a small glance with Raeden but you both know the answer. It does not bear discussion, though you will be returning to the trial chambers early to tell Oberyn and sending a message back to Ellaria. “Certainly,” you answer with authority, and admittedly you are intrigued. She has not yet discussed any plans with Oberyn but apparently the time has come. “We would be honored.”

"Thank you." She bows her head towards the both of you with a relieved smile. "I will not come right after the end of the day's trial. I think we all should need a brief rest from the testimony."

“It has been a trying time,” Raeden agrees as you all begin to eat. “Hopefully the end is now in sight and the entire ordeal can be out to rest with justice.”

"Yes, justice." She knows as well as you and Raeden that the Lannisters would never allow anything but the outcome they wanted, even with Oberyn as a judge.

“We can hope.” Raeden says again, knowing that is all it is.

"Have you and the prince decided when you will leave for Dorne?" She asks curiously. "As soon as the trial is over? Or will you stay for the next royal affair?"

“His commitment to the Small Council will be at an end with the trial and he is anxious to be home again.” In fact, you are anxious for it too, but because of your pregnancy. You hate to think what traveling by sea would be like in another few months of time. “And there is the establishment of Lord Raeden’s new House to attend to.” You beam at him, happy to not have to mark your pride in him or joy at his elevation.

“I have a feeling that your house will prosper.” She tells Raeden with a smile. “You are more noble than most men who carry lesser titles.”

“It is a great deal of work to begin a noble house. I admit I had little idea of the details necessary to tend to.” He sips his wine and eats politely, always with one eye on you and the other on the queen. “But I am equal to the task, and your Grace’s kindness is most appreciated.”

“Perhaps my house would be able to aid in some small way.” She offers. “Since you have been so kind to me. My father recently mentioned that he has noticed that I am less mournful, the credit was given to my wonderful companions.”

“Any aid from House Tyrell would lend immense credibility to the future of House Sunstone.” Having mulled it over in his mind, Raeden had eventually decided on the new name Oberyn suggested second. Dragonstone had sounded presumptuous to him the more he thought about it.

“Sunstone?” She blinks and then a true, bright smile blossoms on her face. “I must say that I am envious of such a beautiful name. I own a sunstone ring that is quite precious to me.”

“The good fortune of being able to forge my own path comes with the prince’s grace.” He knows that. He understands the debt and does not mind paying it two hundred times over if it means he can bring honor to his family and to Dorne. “But I am sure your treasured ring is as stunning as its owner.” Paying a compliment to a beautiful woman, especially one who has been good company to both of you and particularly kind to him, is an easy task for Raeden. Very easy indeed.

Margaery pauses for a moment, surprised that there isn’t even the tiniest hint of jealousy that crosses your face and she bestows a pleased smile on both of you. Picking up her cup and lifting it. “To House Sunstone, May it prosper under the Dornish sun.”

“I will drink to that every time,” you agree, raising your own glass in proud salute.

Raeden’s eyes flash and glitter, both deeply proud and deeply pleased, when he raises his glass to you and the queen in return. His blessings have been innumerable and she could not be more grateful. “My thanks to you both,” he acknowledges, his smile genuine. “With such support as this, I cannot see a future for House Sunstone that is not as bright as its namesake.”

******

For some reason, Raeden is nervous as he escorts you back to the rooms. There’s an idea that has been running through his mind since that luncheon and he doesn’t know what you or Ellaria would think about it. Even though he had spoken to Oberyn about it vaguely, it would affect you two most of all.

“You seem distracted, my love.” As he pushes open the door to your chambers, you frown slightly. Oberyn should be a few minutes behind you and Ellaria will be waiting inside, so this moment is only for you and Raeden. “Is the trial weighing on you?”

“No.” He knows that he needs to talk to you. The honesty that has been promised demands it. “I have been thinking about the future of my house.”

“A matter far dearer to our hearts.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “What can I do to help you?”

“To remember that I love you, regardless of who I marry.” He murmurs softly.

"I have no doubt of that." Stopping in the doorway, you turn and take both of his hands, squeezing them as you look up at him. "She will have to be a strong and clever woman, and especially kind-hearted in order to deserve you, but I know you will choose well. Whoever she is, she will be very lucky." The hurt you once harbored over knowing that your marriages could never be to each other has healed. If your betrothal had turned out so wonderfully, did it not also follow that Raeden might also choose a woman who turned out to be just as joyful a choice?

“I hope you continue to think so.” He murmurs softly as Ellaria comes out of the bedroom to greet you both.

"Good evening, my loves." She moves to both of you together, putting out her arms in welcome. "How did the trial fair today?"

“It was interesting.” Raeden snorts. “The evidence against Lord Tyrion is flimsy at best.”

“Unfortunately, that does not seem to matter to Lord Tywin,” you tut sympathetically and accept the embrace happily. “What have you done with your day today, love?”

“Leyth went with me to the marketplace.” Ellaria bestows kisses on both of you and brings you inside to settle in front of the fire. “We obtained our dinner from the Dornish vendor that Oberyn loves so much, after wandering around and amusing ourselves with trinkets for a while.”

“Then Queen Margarey will be in for a treat at dinner tonight.” Raeden lifts your hand to kiss the back of it before reaching for Ellaria’s. The offer to dine with you had come naturally when she had asked to come speak with you tonight. Returning the hospitality of someone who has been so kind would not cause tongues to wag, although they still talk just because of the proximity to Oberyn.

“Yes, I think so.” Ellaria had perhaps gone slightly overboard in her ordering with the combination of impressing the queen and feeding your increased appetite on her mind, but that does not matter. “Is Oberyn still in meetings? They seem to want him for everything the longer this business goes on.”

“He is only about ten minutes behind us.” Raeden assures her. He had wished to stay back to learn some information from Lord Varys and his little birdies.

“Then come and have a drink and sit with me while we wait.” There is always wine, of course, and also teas and tisanes for you to enjoy now that your tastes are changing.

He looks to you, knowing you might prefer to lay down for a few moments. “My love.”

"Enjoy yourselves, loves." You nudge them together and stretch, offering them a soft smile. "I will lay down for a few minutes with my eyes closed, enjoying the sound of absolutely no one arguing nearby."

“Rest, my love.” He murmurs, watching as you stand and walk towards the bedroom that Ellaria had just exited.

"How was your luncheon?" Ellaria pours wine for both of them and brings Raeden to sit down in front of the fire.

“It was very enlightening.” He admits, accepting the cup and when he sits down, he pulls her into his lap.

"How so?" There is not any need to coax her into further action, and Ellaria readily trails kisses along his neck and jaw.

“She is very eager to be rid of this keep, King’s Landing, all of it.” He tells her, tilting his head back and sighing softly.

"Who could ever want to stay in this place?" It is distasteful, cold, and unfriendly, and Ellaria will be glad to leave it behind as well. The only thing worth staying for is her lovers.

“I do not know why anyone would.” He chuckles and tilts forward so he can look at his second soulmate and lover. “I wish to ask you a question.”

She pauses, drawing away from him and looking into his eyes to find determination in his dark orbs. “Anything, my love.”

“What do you think about a marriage offer to Margarey?” He asks her softly. “I know you have no desire to marry, you have made that clear, and I need a wife to give me sons and daughters.” He knows she would give him a child if she is able, but he doesn’t want to risk her health if it is too taxing on her body.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Her head tilts in curiosity and she runs her nails soothingly over his scalp. He would not all such a question flippantly, and surely he would have weighed the pros and cons heavily before even bringing it up to anyone in their complex relationship.

“Since the luncheon with the queen today.” He confesses quietly. “It just seems as if there was a moment where I knew she would accept my relationships with you and her.” He nods towards the doorway. “She knows that she is my soulmate and is fascinated by the acceptance.”

“There is always danger in accepting new faces into a situation like ours,” Ellaria admits with a sadness that says she knows this firsthand.

“I can imagine.” He nods seriously and sighs. “I can only ask that she accept and if she cannot, then she would not be the wife for me.”

“Do not be discouraged if your first choice is not realized.” She murmurs, not wanting him to find himself upset if Margaery will be unable to keep jealousy at bay.

“I want you and our love to be involved in the decision.” He insists. “She will be in both your lives.”

"And Oberyn's." She reminds him, but she nods. "I do not envy the life Margaery Tyrell has had to live, but I certainly find her to be clever and beautiful." Leaning down, Ellaria presses a kiss to Raeden's lips as the door to their chambers creaks open. "I would not be upset to see more of her if she was your choice."

“Gods curse this trial.” Oberyn groans as he comes through the door and immediately starts to shuck his broadcoat as he walks over to the couple in the front of the fire to kiss his soulmate.

"Does it vex you so terribly, lover?" Ellaria asks before sinking in his kiss without moving an inch from Raeden's lap.

Oberyn has no issue with the other man being a part of the kiss and his tongue slides against his lips in their journey into Ellaria’s mouth. Kissing her thoroughly before he turns and brushes his nose against the other man’s.

His lack of answer and determined kiss say that yes, it does vex him, and the three of them tangle in each other to let the kiss linger until Oberyn is ready to pull away himself.

“Now I am feeling more relaxed.” He huffs, his fingers reaching out and stroking Raeden’s jaw and then Ellaria’s. “You always relax me.”

"We love you, too," Ellaria hums, her own fingers running down the prince's broad chest. "Leyth and I ordered our dinner to be delivered from the vendor you discovered in the marketplace and the princess is resting," she reports after another soft kiss. "I think they told you already that we are having a guest tonight?"

“Yes.” Oberyn’s eyes slide back to Raeden’s. “Have you broached the subject?”

"Just now." The younger man nods slightly. "With Ellaria first."

His brow ticks up curiously and he sits down next to Raeden and strokes his lover’s thigh as she sits on his lap. “And what do you think of the idea, my sun?”

"It is intriguing," she admits, holding Raeden's hand in hers as she lays back against Oberyn's chest. "Her political navigation cannot be matched, and that will be most valuable."

“That was my thinking as well. The alliance with Highgarden and the Tyrells would serve Raeden well, as well as legitimize his offspring beyond all protests.”

"And she finds our valiant knight very handsome." Ellaria acknowledges, her fingers tangled in his and holding his hand tenderly. "Of course she does. She has eyes."

“What do you think?” He asks softly. “I cannot imagine you kicking her out of bed if she decided to join us.”

"No." Shaking her head, she makes an animated frown and waves one hand freely. "I would certainly not. Young, beautiful, and curious? She will be a quick learner."

Oberyn grins and leans in to bite his lover’s chin. “I knew she would interest you.” His eyes sparkle towards Raeden. “Or would you want to keep your lady wife to yourself, Lord Sunstone?” He teases playfully.

"That is her decision," Raeden acknowledges with a huffed half-laugh. He knows the prince is teasing him, but his answer is honest. "But there is one more person to consult before the discuss is had." He nods his head toward the closed door that has so far kept you ignorant of the topic. "I do not know if it helps or hurts that they have become true friends."

“I think that it would help.” Oberyn offers, having learned the way your mind works very well over the past weeks. “Go and talk to her, make sure she knows you would not proceed without her blessing.”

"I would never." Moving Ellaria over to Oberyn's lap fully, Raeden gives each of them a kiss before pushing himself up to standing. "For the sake of transparency..." he looks down at the pair. "I have both of your blessings for this idea, if I decide to move forward with it?"

Oberyn nods. “Of course you have my blessing, it is a smart move.” He tells the younger man before he leans in to kiss Ellaria’s jaw. “Lover? What is your answer?” He doesn’t speak for her, knowing that the marks on her skin bind her to Raeden in a way that he does not have.

"It is a clever choice," she agrees, nodding her approval. "I will be proud for you if it works out, lover. If it does not, then she was not the right choice after all."

“Thank you.” He smiles at both of them, bolstered by their approval. “Now I should ask my other soulmate.” He hums, removing his boots before he moves silently towards the door.

The sun has gone down since you laid your head on the pillow of the bed you usually sleep in – though who you share it with now changes regularly. When the door opens it brings you out of the depths of your mind and you turn your head to see who has come in. "Raeden," you hum his name happily. "Are you come to beckon me into dinner, or to cuddle for a while?"

“Cuddle.” His jacket is in his hands and he drapes it over a chair before he climbs into the bed with you. “And talk, if you are agreeable to it.”

"Always, my love." As soon as he is on the bed you turn to face him and burrow into his side with a happy purr. "What is it you have a mind to talk about?"

Raeden wraps his arms around you with a happy groan, aware that he is very fortunate to be able to hold you like this at all. Perhaps he is being selfish, wanting to establish his house. “My house. My future wife.”

"Oh?" That has your ears perking and your eyes widening. The feeling of your heart in your throat is surprisingly less violent than you would have expected from this topic but it is more tinged with worry. Worry that he might have trouble finding a suitable choice who would not also endeavor to take him away from you. "Have you...made a decision?"

“I have not spoken to her about it, because you, Oberyn and Ellaria are my priority.” He assures you, squeezing you slightly and then rubbing his hand up and down your back. “If you do not approve, I will say nothing at all.”

"But you have found someone worthy of asking." It is not entirely surprising, considering you are all living at the very center of Westeros society, but still you bite your lip. It is not necessarily surprising, but it is still an enormous step forward for him.

“I have an idea.” He stresses. “One that has me reaching well above my station even as a Lord.”

It takes only a moment for your mind to race through the options with that clue in mind, and you end up with even wider eyes than before as you lean up on your elbow in his arms. "Margaery..." you breathe, looking at him in surprise. "Truly?"

It is marvelous how your mind is quick, piecing everything together. “You think that it would be a grave mistake?”

Sitting up a little straighter, you shake your head and lay your hand on his cheek. "On the contrary, my love. I think it is impossibly clever of you. She is acquainted with our situation, has a keen mind for politics, and is looking for a solution to her own situation."

“That is analytical and practical.” He leans into your touch, his warm brown eyes begging you for your opinion. “How would you feel about it personally. Spending time with Margaery and knowing that she would also carry my children, help me establish my house?”

For weeks now you had been trying to detach yourself from the idea. To think of it as something for the distant future. But that is simply not true. Raeden's House is here, and it is now, and he will need a wife to help it grow and to keep him steady. He will need someone who understands how to play the game of nobles and will be able to bear him many children. "I think she is my friend, as surprising as that is to say." Especially since the very first day that you had met her, you thought that her presence in your life would be nothing more than a passing curiosity. It has been nearly two months now and you have come to dearly enjoy the time that you spend walking, reading, or talking with the young widow. "But I know that she does not think she has much future as a bride, despite how dearly she wishes to be a mother. So I advise you that the conversation may not go the way that you think at first."

“I know that she is a higher station, that her prospects should be better than a new lord, but it would also be easier on her reputation than being found in bed with your husband.” He offers.

“She wants to be a wife,” you promise him, not realizing that your voice has gone soft with understanding. The walks that you have taken with Margaery Baratheon — who still considers herself Margaery Tyrell in her heart — have been much more revealing than you could ever have anticipated. “She wants to be a mother. And I know that she would relish the chance to make a decision about her life on her own for once. Not what her father would do, or what her grandmother orchestrates, but simply what Margaery herself desires.”

“I understand.” Raeden nods solemnly. “I will not speak a word of this to her if you wish it.” He promises. “You and Ellaria and Oberyn are my first concerns, your feelings are of high importance in this matter.” He chuckles quietly. “You will choose my wife, approve her, or I will not take one.”

“A vastly different arrangement than we had when I was married,” you chuckle softly. “I approve of the choice, my love, as long as you like her and it is not simply a political decision.”

“It is not. I think she would accept your place in my life, and Ellaria and Oberyn’s.” He confesses.

"I think she would, too." Your hand strays from his jaw, moving to his shoulder to pull him close to you. "I think it would bring more happiness than we suspect, and perhaps even sooner than we might expect." You have always known that it could not be you – for too many reasons at different times in your life you have known it. But this? If it cannot be you, and it will not be Ellaria, let it be someone you all can trust.

“I love you.” He promises you softly. “That will never change. Until my dying breath my soul is a part of yours, my body as well. My heart has been yours since we met.”

"And I love you in precisely the same way." It is not just a promise, but a statement of truth. Something that is an immovable part of your very existence in this world. "You are as much myself as I am, and I am a part of you."

“I do not want to take this step without your approval.” He admits. “I care more about your happiness than anything else.”

“I will be beside you at every turn.” Nuzzled into his side, you breathe in his reassuring presence and feel the warmth of him fill you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

“Of that I have no doubt.” He murmurs softly, continuing to stroke your back. “If no one will accept our situation, I will remain unwed.”

“You cannot,” you remind him quietly, though it pains you to your core to admit it. “Or your house will die before it can begin.”

He sighs softly, wanting to remind you that his house was never supposed to be before your husband. He doesn’t though, he knows you are right, he must marry. “Then we will make sure that my wife is the right one for our group.”

“I think Margaery is a wise choice,” you admit, knowing what self-doubt his sighs betray. It had taken him a long time to show you that side of himself but since he has you have done everything to build him back up in return for his shows of vulnerability. “Will you speak to her tonight?”

“I was thinking about it.” He admits. “As long as you approve. See if she would rather elope with me rather than completely ruin her reputation.”

Taking the sharp line of his jaw in your hands again, you smile and hold his eyes. This is not an easy conversation for either of you to have — considering you had dreamed in your hearts of being able to find a way to be together — but it is by far the best outcome in many ways. “I approve,” you tell him unequivocally. “Margaery has been my unexpected friend in all of this. I would be glad if she could be given a choice in her own life, and if you could have all the advantages possible for your house and your happiness for the years to come.”

“I love you.” He promises you, smiling in relief. “I love you down to your very soul and I am so grateful that you are my soulmate.”

“As I love you.” There is not anyone else in all the world you would rather be tied to by fate or love or any other matter, and the fact that you have both Raeden and Oberyn to share an equal kind of love from your own heart remains extraordinary. “We should join the others, my love. Margaery will be here soon and it promises to be a most interesting meal.”

“We should not lay here too long.” He agrees, although he leans in to kiss you softly. “We will find out if she would like to be a part of our lives.”

“You say the words but make no move to go.” Of course, you do not either. You would much rather lay here and kiss him, if you are honest.

“If I am truthful, I would rather spend the night in bed with my beautiful soulmate.” He confesses.

“After,” you promise him, sighing when he kisses along your neck. “First we must determine if you are to be a groom soon.”

“I wish it was you.” He whispers softly. “Or Ellaria.”

“Do you not like Margaery?” The idea that he might marry purely for politics bothers you immensely and you pull back from him with a frown. “If you cannot find affection for her, my love, then you should not even entertain the idea.”

“I like her.” He tells you. “She is beautiful and witty, kind and smart.” He sighs, stroking your cheek gently. “I just imagined marrying my soulmate. It is hard to swallow that I now have two and cannot marry either one.”

“You could marry Ellaria.” Although your voice is gentle there is sadness to it, and you swallow another sigh. “But she would not be happy as a lady, and I think you would not be happy to let go of the chance to do good as a lord.”

“She does not want it.” He reveals. “She and I spoke of it after the second set of marks appeared.” He chuckles. “She told me she did not marry a prince, and she would not marry me.”

“If the law allowed, I would marry you both,” you promise him, kissing his shirt over his heart.

“Still my favorite woman.” He teases, ducking his head down and pressing his lips to yours. “How are you feeling, love?”

“My head ached this afternoon, but that could have been the trial.” The attempt at a joke is half-hearted, but you both smile a little wider. “And I have been ravenous for days. I cannot think how fast a child grows in its mother’s womb, but it seems to require far more food than I ever thought a little baby could.”

“A little princess.” The idea that it will be another girl has taken root with all of them, and he also knows that you wish for one. His hand slides down and cups your stomach protectively. “If you are hungry, then our meal will not come soon enough.”

“Come, my love.” With another kiss, you are shifting on the mattress. “This is to be a very important meal.”

“Yes it will.” He huffs, following after you with the same slight grumble he has when he has to leave your embrace.

Through the doors into the main chamber, Oberyn and Ellaria are sitting in front of a window with their arms around each other when you and Raeden come in from the other room. Their expectant look makes you shoot a sly smile in Raeden's direction. "I take it I was the last to hear of your plan?"

“You were tired.” He pouts slightly, sending you a beseeching look.

"Apparently growing a baby is hard work." You wink and make your way over to the tray where Leyth has left a pot of the tea you have been favoring the week.

“I found myself equally exhausted when I was carrying my first and third.” Ellaria nods and smiles indulgently at you. “Oberyn would find me sleeping at the dinner table sometimes.”

“I will not be surprised if I follow that example.” The endearing image earns Ellaria a kiss, however, and you temporarily abandon your teapot to bestow it upon her.

She chuckles and nods. “Why do you think Oberyn has ordered pillows to be set at the tables while we eat?” She teases.

It takes you a moment, but when you examine the dining table that has been laid out for all of you with every possible accoutrement besides food — there are numerous pillows laid nearby that you simply had not noticed before. “It is a most thoughtful gesture, husband. You have been looking out for me in ways I have not even been aware of.”

“Star, that is my job.” He purrs, smirking at you and winking. Since the announcement of your pregnancy, he has been doting and he knows it will only get worse as your time gets closer and you are visibly pregnant.

“You have many jobs, I think, your Grace.” The widowed queen stands in the doorway of your chambers with a smile on her face. “Forgive me for being a few minutes early. I was eager for good company.”

Looking over at the queen, his hand is still on his lover’s thigh and he grins. “Lady Baratheon, or queen?” He shrugs slightly. “Whatever your title, we always welcome beautiful guests, come. Would you like some tea? Wine?”

“Amongst friends, might I ask to be just Margaery?” She nods in thanks to the offer of wine, knowing that she has come here tonight to rather insert herself into the situation of all of the people here. Informality seems best, especially since what she has asked Prince Oberyn to do for her – to her, with her – will snatch her from a place of royalty forever.

“Margaery.” The name drips from Ellaria’s tongue like honeyed wine as she turns to kiss her lover and stands, slowly meandering over to the wine to fill a cup for the queen. She winks at you playfully and nudges your shoulder. “Pour your tea, Princess.”

“You all seem to be in high spirits tonight.” And Margaery desperately hopes that that is genuine and not out of delight at her predicament. While she might feel her friendship with you is genuine, she still finds Prince Oberyn to be an unknown entity, while Lord Raeden and Ellaria seem sometimes inscrutable.

“Of course it is.” Oberyn slouches down into his chair a bit more and lifts his cup to his lips. “We are celebrating. What we are celebrating remains to the seen.”

“Sit, Margaery, please.” You offer her the seat beside where you usually set yourself and tut in your husband’s direction. “I will go and tell Leyth we are ready for our meal.”

Your husband chuckles and watches the queen as she sits down and sips her wine. Discreetly looking around the common area of the chambers. “Dornish.” He tells her, lifting the cup to indicate he means the wine. “Superior to the swill that Cersei gulps down.”

“Dornish wine is very fine.” Renly had preferred it, so Margaery knows the taste well enough. It’s actually a bit comforting in an odd way. Something familiar. “Thank you for allowing me to press in on you like this. I know I am not everyone’s favourite dinner guest at present.”

“No thanks needed.” Raeden interjects, sending you a smile as he sits down beside you. “You will find that the prince is very accommodating when his interest is captured.”

“Is that so?” She looks to the faces around the room with curiosity, only to be met mostly with more curiosity in return. “Then for once I count myself lucky to be considered a curiosity.”

“Tell me.” Oberyn starts. “Would you leave the North behind if you could?”

“That is not altogether an easy question,” Margaery admits. The table fills one by one as Oberyn and Ellaria join and Leyth appears with platters of food delivered by the Dornish stall in the marketplace. “I suppose if I had a very good reason to, then yes.”

“Very good.” He will accept that answer at its face value. “And what of sex? Are you prudish? I do not think so, but I must ask.”

“I—” She glances at Leyth to take stock of the girl but your maid pays the conversation no mind whatsoever – just finishes setting out trays and exits the room after checking that everything is as it should be. “I do not think so,” she admits, sounding more uncertain than she would like. “But I admit I have only a small frame of reference.”

“Not pure, good.” He chuckles at her bewildered expression. This was not the conversation she was expecting but it was raw, honest. What Oberyn was hoping for. “And your soulmate? Have you found them?”

“They died.” She fidgets in her seat, looking much younger than she normally holds herself. She looks – self-conscious and bewildered – her own age. A young woman on the edge of uncertainty. “When I was a girl. I had a mark on my belly for years and then one day it was gone.”

“You poor dear.” Ellaria tuts and reaches out to touch the Queen’s knee as she sits back down with Oberyn. “I am very sorry.”

“It could have been worse,” Margaery acknowledges. “I could have known them.” An old thought creeps through her mind that she banishes with a small shake of her head and a painted-on smile. “It is not all so terrible. Or so difficult.”

“Perhaps you will be gifted with another soulmate.” Ellaria offers kindly, knowing that most nobility never get to be with their soulmate, but she couldn’t see Raeden denying her the connection given his own circumstances.

“That would be a rare gift.” One that Margaery tended not to let herself dream about, if she could help it. There is no benefit to letting her imagination run away with her. So instead she smiles as plates begin to fill and finds herself relieved and relaxed at the idea that she will get to choose her own delicacies tonight. She did not bring her maid deliberately, so there was no one to fix her plate on her behalf.

“Would you like me to serve you, Margaery?” Raeden turns towards the younger woman with a smile. “You can direct what you wish to eat?”

“Believe it or not, I am delighted to see to myself for once.” It almost makes her blush, though, for the situation being unusual and the offer being reasonable and kind. The food on the table looks and smells Dornish which means it is new to her, but that is somehow also an unlooked for delight rather than anything else. “As I am sure the princess understands, it is a rare chance that ladies of our situation are able to choose anything for ourselves. Food included.”

“Indulge, then,” you encourage, offering your friend a smile. “Choose only what you like and give yourself a taste for Dornish spices. I promise you will not be disappointed.”

“If there is something that does not agree with you, simply choose something else.” Oberyn instructs her. “You will not offend anyone here.”

“Growing up, the food at Highgarden always had herbs and roots for flavoring, but this smells so very different. I am intrigued,” she admits with a small laugh, then changes the subject as everyone begins to fill their plates in earnest. “I trust, now that the day is at an end, everyone is in higher spirits?”

“We are normally in high spirits when we can spend the evening together, it is very pleasurable.” Raeden doesn’t mention that it is spent having pleasure, but his eyes slide over to you and Ellaria with a fair amount of heat.

“Yes.” You clear your throat in the most ladylike way possible and Ellaria grins broadly. “To be in the company of those we hold dear is very pleasurable indeed.”

Margaery feels like there is an undercurrent to the comment but she doesn’t question it. “So,” she murmurs once the plates are full and Leyth slides discreetly out of the room to wait until she is called. “Your servants, they can be trusted with this?”

“Entirely,” you promise her, knowing that the matter she came to discuss and what will be presented to her are two separate things. “Their discretion and their loyalty is complete.” Something that would be obvious if news of what had happened with your mother had ever gotten out — but because of Leyth and Cal’s impregnable loyalty, not a word had been uttered to anyone.

“It is rare that such loyalty is inspired, and it is a credit to your character.” She praises. It is rare the noble that garners much respect and loyalty from their servants, having seen the worst of them.

“It is a credit to Oberyn, and to choice,” you offer, not wanting to downplay your husband’s kindness to those he employees but also knowing that freedom of choice – to select one’s path in any way at all – was taken from Leyth and Cal in a way that was far too cruel.

“Whoever is responsible, it is a blessing to be surrounded by that kind of integrity.” She smiles as she scoops up the first bite of her food to try.

Margaery hums in delight, blissfully unaware of the four sets of eyes currently trained on her as she takes her first bites of Dornish delicacies. The roasted meats, stewed vegetables, creamy dips, and highly spiced sauces are all delicious and an indulgence they partake of often. The Red Keep’s kitchens are not equipped to create the masterpieces that Oberyn prefers so he – or one of you – will routinely order from the gentleman at the marketplace that you discovered on your walk with Oberyn.

“Delicious, is it not?” You ask, when she closes her eyes in a dreamy expression.

“It is divine.” She moans, aware that it is not ladylike but sure that no one at the table would mind. “The flavors are so…robust. I could eat this every day.”

The small smirk on your lips is pure amusement as you glance up at your husband. Ellaria’s eyes flash as well and there is a silent laugh shared between the three of you at the table. “Would that please you?” You ask conversationally. “This food came from a very talented man in the marketplace, and it is just a sampling of what Dornish delicacies can be tasted.”

“It is better than any feast displayed in the Red Keep’s dining hall.” She tells you honestly, “You must show me this vendor before you leave.”

“I will,” you promise her, managing not to give anything away by not glancing at Raeden. “Do you expect to stay in the keep long after your…plan goes into action?”

“If Cersei does not have me killed, I expect to be thrown out like the morning’s chamber pot.” Margaery jokes weakly.

“I wonder—” Raeden sits up a little taller at the table, feeling this to be his cue. “If you have considered every avenue available to solve your problem.”

“Sort of throwing myself from the tower, I believe so.” She frowns, turning towards Raeden. “Have you some idea? You are a clever man; you have taught me that during our luncheons.”

“I will take that as the highest compliment.” And an encouragement, that she thinks well of him and is not just abusing herself with his presence or inviting him out of pity. “There are other people a beautiful young noblewoman could marry, if she chose. Surely a different husband is preferable to death?”

She sighs softly, setting her fork down. “All the men who would wish to marry me are not very noble men.” She confesses. “Someone like Petyr Baelish would be the type to offer for me with the scandal an elopement would cause, for I would have to marry and bed hastily.” She smiles and reaches out to squeeze his hand. “Do you know of someone?”

Her hand is delicate. Small on his and warm, and perhaps a little uncertain though it does not tremble. “Perhaps,” Raeden nods and sets down his wine glass in turn. “What would you say if I offered myself?”

Her eyes widen and she snatches her hand back as her head swings towards you. She is not disgusted, her heart jumps in fact, but she respects you. “I— you have a soulmate here.” She gasps. “You—” she finds that you are not upset, in fact, you are obviously anticipating an answer. “You don’t mind?”

“What right do I have to dictate Raeden’s life when I have a husband and a growing family of my own?” You ask her seriously, knowing that news of your pregnancy has also not made it beyond your immediate household. On Oberyn’s advice, you had not made an announcement at court yet. That would wait until you were starting to show. “I do not wish to see you hurt, Margaery. You have been a wonderful and unexpected friend to me and to see you so desperate wounds me in ways I cannot express. If you can acceptance our situation, and the love we all have for each other, and think that you could be happy with a good, clever man just beginning his own House — then I do not mind at all. In fact, I urge you to accept.”

“You—” she’s speechless and for a moment tears swarm her vision at the prospect of freedom from this red tomb and life beyond the reach of the Lannisters. “So please tell me what I need to accept so I can decide.” She begs, wishing she could hug you.

“Firstly, that I will not give up my soulmates.” Raeden puts both of his hands on the table, offering her comfort but leaving it up to her if she chooses to accept it. “Each of us here has two soulmates, as rare as that is. I am blessed to be attached to both of these women and I will not turn away for them from any reason.”

“T-Two soulmates?” She had been reaching for her cup and nearly knocks it over in surprise as her head snaps up. Barely sloshing a large drop of the Dornish red onto her hand, she doesn’t notice as she stares at the four of you, mouth gaped open.

“It is rare, but it is true.” You confirm with a nod, understanding her shock completely. “I bare Raeden’s marks as well as Oberyn’s.”

“And Ellaria?” She looks at the other woman. “You wear Oberyn’s and Raeden’s marks?” She asks, wanting to confirm.

"I do," she nods and laces her fingers through Oberyn's. "And though I do not share marks with the princess, we do share a bed more than occasionally."

“Do you and the prince share a bed?” Margaery asks Raeden, wondering how the dynamic works. Does everyone share?

"We have not yet." He adds yet carefully, knowing that he fully intends to, and likely soon. "Would it bother you if we did?"

“No— um...” she chews her lip. “Renly was eager to bed both me and my brother, so I understand.” She explains, toying with her wine cup. “I do not have any bother with that. But you will bed me?”

It is a fair question, even if Raeden feels temporarily wounded at the idea that he would offer marriage to a woman and then not treat her as his wife. "In order to grow House Sunstone, I will need legitimate heirs," he reminds her gently. There is nothing patronizing in his tone, it is only facts and kindness. "So yes, I would intend to bed you."

“Would I have other lovers?” She asks, looking around the room, “All of you?”

That makes Raeden smile, and he glances around the table before looking back at her. "If you wish it. No one here would turn you away."

“Truly?” She’s shocked by that. While many people boast of wanting lovers, very few actually take them. At least the women she knows.

"We would not expect it of you," you clarify quickly. "But if you wished to take other lovers, it would be entirely unjust of Raeden to forbid it while having three other lovers himself."

“You enjoy it?” She asks curiously. “Being with a woman? I have never had a chance to experience it.”

"My first lover was a woman." Confident and comfortable with the memory of Brynna's place in your life, you can assure Margaery in this completely. "It can be a wonderful and extremely pleasurable experience."

“And you wish me to join your little group?” She asks seriously. “As a lady wife to Lord Sunstone and potential lover to all of you? A preverbal fifth wheel?”

"We have all discussed it." Raeden artfully leaves out the fact that – in one case – the discussion only happened just before she arrived. Instead he focuses on the positive. And on the offer he is making. "If you would like to be a part of this group...this odd little family that we have...we are offering you the chance to be a part of it. If you desired nothing beyond my own bed and never shared pleasure with your dear friend, with Oberyn, or with Ellaria, that would be entirely up to you." He turns now, offering his hands to Margaery again and looking into her eyes. They really are stunning now that he has a chance to look deeper. "Rather than shatter your reputation and put your life on the line, would you consider an elopement? It will eliminate the problem of your father's arrangement with the Lannisters and take you far away from King's Landing." He smirks slightly, looking over at the food on the table before his smirk blooms into a full smile. "And you will have all the Dornish delicacies you like in Sunspear."

Her fingers slide against his palm as her laughter blooms. Joyous and relieved. “I accept.” She decides instantly. “If nothing more than a lifetime of food such as this.” She jokes before she squeezes his fingers. “If we elope and my marriage is actually consummated, the dowry the Lannisters are planning to line their coffers with is yours, Lord Sunstone.”

"And as Dornish subjects, you answer to the princes and princesses of that realm, rather than to Cersei Lannister." It is a deeply added benefit, and now will be the second time you have exploited that loophole to help get people you care about away from imminent harm. Looking to Oberyn, Raeden holds tight to Margaery's hands. "Do you think Maester Rhodestone would mind a late night visit?"

“If you wish to do this tonight, we will finish our dinner and make for the Citadel.” He tells Margaery. “The same maester who married myself and the princess would oversee your vows and make sure they are registered.”

Though her hand is in Raeden's, you place one of your own gently on her shoulder and squeeze. "The speed is out of concern for your safety, my dear. It is the same reason that Oberyn and I wed so quickly. Because Raeden was my sworn guard and his life was in danger."

“What happened?” She asks, tilting her head curiously and wanting to know what could possibly threaten this kind and handsome man.

"My mother threatened to spread a vicious lie that would most likely have ended in his execution." You shake your head sadly. "I did what I had to do to keep my soulmate safe. And found myself the luckiest woman in the world when I began to know more of the husband I had made vows to. I think – I hope – you will consider yourself equally as lucky as you get to know Raeden."

“I hope that this does not affect our relationship.” She murmurs quietly. “I have come to view you as one of my dearest friends. A true friend. That is so hard to come by.”

"A true friend can be more valuable than gold." You readily agree. "The only thing that would change would be if we decided to share a bed. And that would be a way to bring us closer."

She has been curious about that. Biting her lip and nodding. “It would be an experience.” She admits. “I am not pure and I would like to live my life to the fullest.”

You can feel a bloom of warmth in your cheeks and do not even turn your head to Ellaria, knowing what she will say. Her stunning smirk surely says I knew it like only she can. “I can assure you that no one here is pure in the sense that you mean.”

“I understand if you wish to wait until I bleed, but I can swear to the Gods I have not been with anyone since before I married Joffrey.” Margaery promises.

“Well, when was the last time you bled?” Ellaria pauses with a bite of roast meat and bread halfway to her mouth and quirks an eyebrow. She knows the answer - the maids know everything and Leyth has good ears – but she wants to see how genuine Margaery is being tonight.

“I bled the week after Joffrey’s funeral.” She admits, squirming slightly since she is unused to speaking of such things in front of men. It’s not that she is embarrassed, just unaccustomed to men around talks of women’s things.

“Then there seems little need to wait.” Raeden nods when Ellaria seems to accept the answer and resume her dinner casually, but he looks back to Margaery with concern. “Unless you want more time to think over the offer?”

“There is not much time to wait.” She answers honestly. “I had come to beg that the prince be discovered in my bed by morning,” she confesses. “They wish to announce my marriage to Tommen after Lord Tyrion has been executed.”

“Then the longest we will wait is after our supper.” Knowing that Rhodestone is now fond enough of your group to receive the lot of you even at an odd time, Raeden is certain they will be allowed into the Citadel no matter what time they arrive. Perhaps it will all one day make a charming or romantic story. Instead of being a true matter of life and death twice over.

Oberyn scoffs slightly, aware that the trial has been a farce, but it is made even more obvious by her comment. “You will be wedded and bedded before the sun rises.” He promises. “Our maid will discover your blood on Lord Sunstone’s sheets.” Even if he must provide his own blood, he will make sure proof is undeniable.

“We will stand beside you tomorrow, and every day afterward,” you promise her, knowing that your roles are about to reverse. With you the princess and her the lady, nothing would change, though. As Margaery pointed out herself, true friendships are difficult to come by.

It is rare, she knows this. Her own family crawled back to the Lannisters after Renly died, her body as a pawn. Now, Mace would be unable to use her to better himself again, and she believes her grandmother would approve. “So this is now our wedding feast.” She says, lifting her cup. “To House Sunstone, May it grow strong and prosperous in Dorne.”

“Here here.” You approve of that most heartily and raise your cup to salute her and Raeden with one hand. The sadness – the melancholy – the bracing discomfort you expected to feel when Raeden finally married is nowhere in sight. His future is secure in the hands of a woman that you not only know well but enjoy, and his legacy will grow from the vines of the House that they sew together. The injustice of being denied each other’s love does not exist. Margaery accepts it just as the rest of you all have. She will be safe and they will persevere together. In time, there will be so many less important things to fret over. And you will all have the luxury of fretting, because you have survived.

Dinner ends up being a lighthearted, jovial affair. Turning into more of a celebration than anything else and by the time that the food has been eaten, Margaery is almost eager to make Raeden her Lord husband. He is a good man, she can see that from the way that he treats you and Ellaria, and Oberyn. Two soulmates. She can’t even fathom that, but he had shown her marks from both you and Ellaria, proving it to be true. Oberyn has been kind, flirtatious as well and she wonders if her first night in these chambers will be with everyone. Experiencing the orgies that Oberyn is famous for.

******

“You should wear this.” The cloak that you hold out to drape over Margaery’s shoulders is one of your own. Nondescript but comfortable and attractive, the piece will not mark her as Margaery Tyrell, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms but as just another noble lady walking with her party. “Keep the hood up while we are in the carriage. The last thing we want is to be stopped or mobbed on the way to having you married.”

“Is this how you felt when you married Oberyn?” She asks quietly. “Afraid you might be discovered before the vows could be said?” Her stomach knots up in fear that could happen, her slight chance at freedom ruined.

"I was terrified," you agree, though your face is much more serene now. "At any moment my mother could have been sending the keep's guard after us. I literally begged Oberyn to marry me."

“It does not seem like he regrets that decision.” Margaery looks over at Oberyn as the group walks towards the carriage.

“Regret would be the last word I would use to describe my marriage to the Princess.” He reaches for your hand and lifts it to his lips.

"I love you, too." The words have come easy since the first nice that you managed to say them, and you press your own lips to the back of Oberyn's hand in turn before accepting his help up into the carriage. The five of you will be cramped inside but you will manage. It is more important that you not be identified on your way to the Citadel than that you be able to spread out.

“Once you are wed, we will return to our rooms.” Oberyn tells the group as the carriage starts to move once you are all loaded up. “While I do not know how luxurious your chambers are, it would be better if you stayed with us on your wedding night.”

"Once the wedding is complete, my lord's chambers are mine anyway," Margaery points out with a nod of agreement. "I have no doubt that my father would have overwhelming questions when I returned. This will be better. Safer."

“Yes.” He nods in agreement. “Tomorrow, Raeden and I will inform your father.”

"It will not be good news to him." Although the more she sits with the idea and rolls it over in her mind, Margaery might actually be looking forward to this third marriage.

“No matter his feelings, it will be a successful marriage.” Oberyn predicts with a smile. “It will last longer than the other two.”

"It would be very difficult not to last longer than the second." Even as she says it, Margaery chews her lip. Her weeks have been filled with a magnitude of worries, not the least of which is the concern that if something should happen to her third husband then she might seclude herself somewhere untouchable for fear of being the unwitting cause of their demise. A jinx.

“Yes, it would.” Oberyn chuckles and looks to you for a moment before he leans over and whispers to you.

A silent nod and a kiss for your husband are the end of the communication for now, and you tuck a smile in the corner of your mouth as the carriage pulls through King's Landing. As troubling as your time in this city has been at points, it has also been rewarding and joyous on many occasions. Tonight, you hope will be one more moment of celebration.

******

Margaery takes a deep breath then the carriage finally rolls to a stop and Raeden looks over, reaching out with a smile as he takes her hand. “Perhaps you can guide me through this.” He whispers softly. “I have never been a husband, so you should instruct me on what to do.” He means it as a comfort, knowing she must be worried about another marriage.

"Try not to die." Margaery advises wryly, letting her fingers curl around his after a moment's hesitation. The carriage door swings open to let them all out and once more the group is on the move.

He chuckles as he hops out of the carriage first, turning to assist the ladies out. “Do not fear, I wish to die a very old man with my numerous children surrounding me.”

“From several mothers, if you are lucky.” Ellaria hums as she gets out of the carriage behind them.

Raeden turns to look at Margaery. “You would not object, would you? A child with my soulmates?”

“Before tonight I would have said that I objected to it most strongly,” she admits, looking around the group before her eyes meet Raeden’s again. “But to see love is something genuine, and I cannot find it in myself to object to a child that will be loved.”

“Believe me,” Oberyn chuckles. “All our children will be loved in our family. Which is what we are. One odd family.”

“A large, odd, loving family,” you agree before ringing the bell at the Citadel’s door. “Come. Let us have you two married.”

This time when the door is opened, a different face peers out at the group. A confused frown on the chubby cheeks of the younger man. “Yes?”

“Would you kindly inform Maester Rhodestone that the Prince and Princess of Dorne and their party are in need of his assistance?” Haste does not mean you have to be impolite, but it is essential to get your group inside so Margaery is not recognized. You have lent her a cloak, not a potion of invisibility.

“I will be back.” He informs you, stepping back to allow you into the Citadel. “Wait here.”

"Thank you." The five of you file into the foyer and almost sigh with relief as the door shuts behind you.

“We should have brought the book back.” Oberyn snaps his fingers, a smirk on his lips as he winks at you.

"If only we had not been in such a hurry." The twist of your mouth matches his smirk and you lean into his side.

"How careless of us." Ellaria agrees with a chuckle.

Raeden chuckles, leaning in to whisper in Margaery’s ear when she frowns in confusion. “The Princess borrowed a book from the maesters on soulmates when the second set of marks appeared on her skin.”

"When was it?" She still cannot quite believe the reality of having two soulmates, but the proof is irrefutable. She has seen the marks.

“Just a few weeks ago.” He tells her. “Ellaria and I did not know what to do when our own marks showed up. Afraid of what the Princess would think. But our fears were unfounded.”

"Your soulmate is very kind." Margaery's eyes glance over to you, and then past you to Ellaria, and she smiles. "They both are. You are very lucky."

“We are all lucky.” Raeden tells you quietly. “If you are blessed by the Seven to have another soulmate, they will be welcomed.” He tells his future wife. “I would not keep such an important person from you.”

“Let us hope that, if they do appear, they are as kind and as stalwart as the companions we have now.” Margaery has no illusions about her own worthiness as a political pawn - in that she is very powerful as one – but soulmates come from personal worth and that is an entirely different matter. One that she is not willing to let herself drown in now for fear of the melancholy it will bring.

“We do not know why some of us have marks and others do not.” Oberyn tells her. “But I personally believe that just because you do not share marks does not mean you cannot share your heart with someone.”

“The gods chose who could share my soul,” Margaery nods, finding that for all his reputation, Prince Oberyn is full of wisdom and not only instinct. “But I choose to whom I give my heart.”

“Precisely.” He hums, sending her a tiny wink as the rattling of chains signifies that a maester is returning.

“My favourite visitors,” Rhodestone chuckles at the sight of your group. “To what do I owe the pleasure so late on this night?”

“I have come once again to beg a favor.” Oberyn takes charge and steps forward. “Another marriage than needs to be made in haste.”

“I see.” Rhodestone surveys the group, standing before the five of you with interest and a characteristically expressive countenance. “The match is made freely? All parties are consenting?”

“We are, Maester.” Raeden steps forward and captures Margaery’s hand in his. “We desperately wish to be married and must make it so before the opportunity is lost.”

“Forgive me if I do not bow, your Grace. This old back does not cooperate as it once did.” Maester Rhodestone surveys the couple – their tightly joined hands and anxious postures, their forced smiles and their rounded shoulders. “I take it there is no time to waste?” He asks, sensing that – like last time – there is more to this haste than meets the eye.

“None.” Margaery insists. “Please know that I am willingly consenting to marrying this man and must do so immediately.”

“Then I see we have no time to waste.” He is not a man for politics or intrigue, though he understands both, and decides it is not in his best interest to ask questions. Instead, he waves for all of you to follow and chuckles under his breath. “This way, this way…although I suspect you remember from the last marriage.”

Margaery reaches out for your hand instinctively, even though she has gone through her vows twice now, this time is even more daunting. This time she is going against the political wishes of her father and making her own choice, forging her own destiny and she has only your obvious happiness to guide her.

“Breathe,” you remind her quietly. “All will be well.” And, with a much softer tone in your already hushed voice. “You have chosen a good man, Margaery. I promise you. He will protect and cherish you.”

“It is not my future I am worried for.” She admits quietly, her heart racing as she envisions letting all of you down, or worse, hurting you.

“We are a family now.” Holding tight to her hand, you offer her the most reassuring smile you are able, and continue walking together. “We look after each other. All of us.”

“Due to your marriage to my wife’s soulmate,” Oberyn adds quietly. “You will have very strong ties to House Martell.” He knows she is not worried about that, but it can be a comfort. “All of Dorne will be eager to come to House Sunstone’s aid if needed.”

“And my father’s House may be far away, but they will send aid if we should ever require it. We have friends who will help us.” Though you all hope that day will never come, it is necessary to be prepared for. Especially when there is so much at stake.

“Then all we can hope is that our union creates a happy home.” Raeden murmurs quietly. “I wish to fill the halls of whatever home with have with laughter, children and one day – love.”

Margaery seems positively flustered at such an optimistic picture of life ahead, and is blushing profusely between you and Raeden when you offer him a smile. “I have something for you both. And I hope that you will accept it with all the good intent it is given.” On one of your fingers, there is an intricate sunstone and bronze ring that Raeden himself had picked out at the market a week ago. He had settled on the new name for his House and presented it to you as a way to tell the group. Slipping it from your finger now, you take Raeden’s hand and place it in his palm. “Ellaria presented me with a ring that Oberyn had given her just before we were going to be married,” you explain to Margaery softly. “Now a ring from Raeden will leave my finger to grace yours. I pray it brings you happiness.”

Her gasp is soft, expression almost startled as she stares at the ring and then you. “Are you sure?” She asks quietly. It is a beautiful ring and yet she doesn’t know if she should accept.

“Very sure.” Even as you close his fingers around the trinket, Raeden looks as if he might be moved to tears, and you squeeze his hand tight. “One day perhaps you will pass on a ring to another bride, and we will make it a tradition.”

“It would make a lovely tradition. The first jewels in the Sunstone house.” She leans over and kisses your cheek. “I will cherish it, like I cherish your friendship.”

“Come.” Smile beaming at both of them, you motion to where the Maester, Oberyn, and Ellaria have gotten ahead of you. “Let us see you married and then we will all remember how to breathe a little easier.”

Now, when the moment has arrived, there is no fear. A sense of calm washes over the woman who was queen in name twice and never in reality. Now she will be Lady Sunstone and that is a brighter future than she might have every had as Margaery Tyrell.

______

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absurdthirst · 1 year ago

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The moment has arrived!