Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
*****
"So, how does it feel?" Arya asked softly once the guards had left.
"Honestly?" Daenerys asked dryly, before admitting, "Good. Terrifying, but good."
Arya nodded, "You'd be a fool if you didn't feel that way."
"Indeed." Daenerys softly agreed, before pointing out, "But you and your, friends, are not here to discuss how I'm feeling."
"Then why are we here, your grace?" Margaery smirked, the past few weeks having emboldened her to speak up in the presence of her Queen.
Daenerys smiled, briefly savoured the moment, before speaking, "Today I have everything I have ever wanted. The Targaryen banner once again flies over Kings Landing, my enemies are either dead or imprisoned, and I finally sit upon the Iron Throne as the undisputed Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. However unlike my predecessors I do not have time for feasts or parades celebrating my accomplishments, or even a proper crowning ceremony, as I must almost immediately ride north again to defeat the armies of the dead. Does that seem fair to you, my Ladies?"
"No your grace." Sansa replied, her words echoed by Margaery while Arya simply nodded.
"No, I deserve better than that. And perhaps in time, I shall have it." Daenerys pondered, "But at least I have to night, and there is no one I wish to celebrate it with then the three of you."
"We are honoured your grace." Margaery curtsied with an eager grin on her face.
"And eager." Sansa confessed.
"How would you like to start?" Arya grinned, getting right down to the point as usual.
"Margaery Tyrell. Come here." Daenerys ordered, beckoning the former Queen until she was standing directly in front of her, "You were crowned Queen three times, twice to the person sitting on this throne. Tell me, did you think of pleasuring any of them while they were sitting upon it?"
"No your grace." Margaery answered truthfully, "In truth, the first never desired me. I never desired the second, and any act of sex in this room would have likely been cruel. And the third would have never been so bold, and while I confess, he was sweet, I never truly desired him. Not in the way that I yearned for Sansa Stark during the countless nights we were apart, and certainly not in the way that I desire the Stark sisters now. Or the way I desire you now."
"And if I was to give you the chance?" Daenerys asked, "To pleasure me now while I sit on this throne?"
"Then I would be greatly honoured, and do everything in my power to please you." Margaery again answered truthfully.
"Do we each get a turn?" Arya asked hopefully, approaching the throne.
"Oh, you'll get your turn alright Arya Stark." Daenerys promised, briefly turning her attention to her wildest of lovers, "But not tonight. No, I wish for you to provide me with entertainment as Margaery licks my cunt."
"What kind of entertainment would that be?" Arya smirked, believing she already knew the answer to that as she eyed her sister.
"Well, you and your sister claim to be lovers, and have provided significant evidence of that. However, I deserve more. I want indisputable evidence of your sinful ways." Daenerys ordered, "I want The Ladies Of Winterfell to put on a show for me. For the Stark sisters to defile each other in these hallowed halls. For you and your sister to 69 in front of the Iron Throne."
"Is that all?" Arya smirked, "Oh my Queen, we can definitely do that."
"Excellent." Daenerys smiled, leaning back in her chair again, "You may start by taking off your clothes."
Sansa seemed to be the only one hesitant to do this, mostly because she could vividly remember the last time she was stripped in this room. Then it hadn't been her choice, Joffrey's man had torn her clothes away from her body for his amusement.
Thankfully this was one of the many things she confessed to her sister while they lay naked in bed together, exchanging their long roads back to each other, and instead of concentrating on her own clothes, or even tearing off Sansa's as she would usually do Arya gave her a sympathetic and loving look, followed by a few gentle kisses to her neck and then one to her lips.
She then looked deep into Sansa's eyes for permission to continue, and when Sansa gave a cautious nod Arya smiled happily and proudly, before assisting her sister in taking off her pretty dress.
It didn't seem possible, but Margaery was doing just fine by herself, effortlessly putting on a show which completely captivated their Queen. Which divided the attention of the Stark girls, but Arya was an expert at taking off pretty girl's clothes, and she always wanted to see her sister naked most of all.
Arya's help and eagerness for her body, combined with the fact that all eyes including her own were on Margaery, and that it was just the four of them, four beautiful women at that, made the whole situation bearable for Sansa. Actually more than bearable, especially when the last of Margaery's clothes fell away, and Arya started to work on her own clothing. Oh yes, that wasn't just bearable, but exciting.
Once Margaery was completely naked Daenerys motioned for her to give her a quick spin so she could admire her body, then she murmured without looking away from the Rose, "Very good. My Lady Starks, I do believe I requested a show."
"Yes your grace." Arya grinned as she pulled her sister into her arms.
Arya actually using her proposal got Daenerys to turn her head towards them, which was no doubt her intention so she would have some audience for the incestuous kiss. It certainly took Sansa by surprise, which was the only reason she didn't immediately kiss back. Of course the reason for her existence was to please Arya, so it didn't take Sansa long to melt into where she belonged, her sister's arms, and kiss her back with all the passion she deserved.
Which meant their bodies were pressed against each other tightly, and thanks to Arya having already made quick work of her clothes that was very pleasant indeed. Which was at least one reason Arya chose to wear such unladylike attire, Sansa thought with amusement. So she could do unladylike things at a moments notice.
What they were doing now, what they were going to do to each other, and hopefully to their Queen, certainly wasn't ladylike. Neither were the sounds that Arya was forcing out of Sansa's lips, which sounded deafening inside this giant room with so few people in it. Which was doubly impressive, considering most of it Arya's lips were pressed against hers.
Although was also a little sad, and sure enough when Arya broke that kiss and started working on Sansa's neck both sisters quickly glanced over at the throne to find the other two watching them, and as much as Arya, and to a lesser extent Sansa, loved having a captivated audience they dearly wanted to see a show of their own. Fortunately, they were not waiting long.
Margaery had enjoyed putting on a show for her new Queen, but not as much as being able to sit on Daenerys's lap and watch the Stark sisters kiss. The latter which should have been ridiculous, given Daenerys was actually shorter than she was, and it was admittedly awkward given there was more than enough room on the Iron Throne for both of their bottoms.
But Margaery didn't find it ridiculous at all. No, it felt right. Like she was finally where she was meant to be. Not the ruler of the seven kingdoms, but that persons trusted adviser, and lover. Only this time it was a worthy ruler. A true ruler. A ruler she would happily do anything for.
For a few long moments Margaery allowed what was becoming a very frequent fantasy. One which she was crowned Queen for a fourth time, only this time people would jeer and gossip about it more than ever before. Say so many unkind things about her. But most of all that she had no power.
That she wasn't the true Queen. And they would be right, but it would be worth it to sit beside the Iron Throne and whisper in the ear of Daenerys Targaryen as this wonderful woman ruled her kingdoms. And she wouldn't be alone. Oh yes, in this wonderful fantasy Arya and Sansa would be right there beside her, advising the rightful Queen publicly, and then pleasing her in private, like Margaery wished she was pleasing her now.
As if reading her thoughts Daenerys suddenly beckoned to her, "Margaery, come closer."