A/N: This story is rated M for mature content not suitable for children.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Chapter 1: Gold and Green
Westeros - The Reach
The Reach smelled of crushed grass, roasting capons, and the suffocating perfume of highborn ladies who had never seen a day of real work.
To a man who had spent his first sixteen years breathing the oily, sulfurous black fog of Asshai-by-the-Shadow, the air of Westeros tasted ridiculously sweet. Almost sickly so.
Naruto leaned back against the carved wooden railing of the pavilion, his long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. He wore no heavy plate armor, no boiled leather that smelled of horse sweat, and certainly no velvet doublets stitched with the sigils of dead kings. Instead, he wore loose-fitting trousers of deep saffron silk, tucked into supple, knee-high boots of dark Essosi leather, and a lightweight brigandine composed of overlapping plates of polished, gold-washed steel that caught the midday sun.
His hair, a wild, sun-bleached blonde that stood out like a beacon in a land of dull browns and genetics-locked black, was tied back loosely at the nape of his neck, though several unruly spikes still framed his tanned, whisker-scarred face.
"They look like children playing at war," Naruto remarked, his voice a low, raspy drawl that carried easily over the clattering of wooden practice swords and the cheers of the smallfolk gathered around the tourney grounds.
Standing a pace behind him, his second-in-command, a massive, silent Lyseni named Curtis whose throat bore the jagged scar of a slaver’s iron, merely grunted. Curtis didn't need to speak. He knew exactly what his captain thought of the host gathered at Bitterbridge.
Twenty thousand men-at-arms, knights, and hedge knights, all swearing fealty to Renly Baratheon, a man whose greatest martial achievement to date was looking exceptionally handsome in green velvet. They called it the War of the Five Kings, but to Naruto, it looked like a bunch of lamb going to a slaughter.
"Captain," a voice called out, smooth and dripping with the practiced courtly grace of the Reach.
Naruto didn’t turn his head. He watched a young knight in high-polished steel get unhorsed by a Tyrell rider, tumbling into the dirt to the roaring laughter of the crowd. "Lord Florent. Or is it Ser? I lose track of the titles over here."
Alekyne Florent, a man with ears too large for his head and a doublet that looked far too tight, cleared his throat, clearly miffed by the lack of deference. "His Grace, King Renly, and the Lord Paramount of the Mander, Mace Tyrell, request your presence in the royal pavilion. The council is meeting to discuss the terms of your contract."
Naruto finally shifted, his bright blue eyes, shining with an unnatural, luminous clarity that made most men look away, fixing on the Westerosi lord. "The terms were already discussed in Oldtown with your master of coin, Florent. Ten thousand golden dragons upfront, ten thousand upon completion of the campaign, and total autonomy for my men."
"Yes, well," Florent stammered, shifting his weight. "Lord Tyrell wishes to amend the nature of your deployment. He believes your... unique talents would be better suited for a more specific assignment."
Naruto smirked, a sharp, white flash of teeth. He stood up, and even without the towering plate armor of the local knights, he commanded the space instantly. There was a strange warmth that radiated from him, an ambient heat that had nothing to do with the summer weather. It was a subtle, oppressive weight, like standing too close to a blacksmith's forge.
In his previous life, a lifetime blurred by centuries of wandering and the dark, twisting rebirth in the shadow of the world, he had been a weapon of a different kind. He remembered flashes of it, great beasts of chakra, roaring oceans, and a blue sphere of spinning energy in his palm. But that world was gone, dead and buried beneath the ashes of time. In Asshai, where the sun never truly shone and the waters of the Ash river ran black and toxic, he had found something else. No chakra. No jutsu. Just the raw, blinding reality of the sun, pulled down from the heavens and bound into his very blood.
"Lead the way, Florent," Naruto said, throwing a casual wave to Curtis. "Let's go see what the fat flower wants."
The royal pavilion was a monstrous thing of green and gold silk, large enough to house a modest village. Inside, the air was cool, cooled by servants waving massive feathered fans, and the floor was covered in thick, plush Myrish carpets.
At the center of the room stood a massive oak table covered in maps of the Crownlands and the Stormlands. Around it stood the power of the Reach. Renly Baratheon sat in a high-backed chair, looking every bit the romantic ideal of a king, tall, clean-shaven, with thick coal-black hair and a crown of golden roses. Next to him was Mace Tyrell, a portly man with a curling grey-and-brown beard and an expression of perpetual self-importance.
But Naruto’s eyes didn't linger on either of them. They bypassed the lords, bypassed the armored guards, and landed directly on the two women standing to the side.
The elder, Lady Olenna Tyrell, was a tiny, withered crone with sharp, hawk-like eyes that instantly sized Naruto up, dismissive yet intensely calculating.
The younger was Lady Margaery.
Naruto took her in with a slow, deliberate gaze that would have been considered treasonous by any other sellsword. She was undeniably beautiful, with thick, cascading curls of soft brown hair, large, melting brown eyes, and a smile that seemed perfectly engineered to disarm any man who looked at her. Her gown of pale green silk was cut low, teasing the soft curve of her collarbones and the swelling fullness of her breasts. She was a masterclass in Westerosi nobility, refined, elegant, and completely aware of her own power.
When Naruto's eyes met hers, she didn't look away. Instead, her smile widened slightly, a subtle tilt of her head acknowledging his appraisal.
"Ah, Captain Naruto!" Renly greeted, his voice boisterous and welcoming. He gestured with a silver goblet. "The Sun-Bringer of Asshai. Your reputation precedes you. The stories out of the Stepstones say you turned three Tyroshi war galleys into slag with nothing but a wave of your hand."
"The stories understate it," Naruto replied smoothly, walking right past the guards and stopping at the edge of the table. He didn't bow. He didn't kneel. He stood tall, his hands resting casually on his hips. "The wood was wet, so it took two waves."
Mace Tyrell chuckled, though it sounded forced. "A colorful tongue. Quite. But we are here to discuss a change in your contract, Captain. Initially, we had intended for your company, the Dawnbreakers, to form the vanguard of our march up the Roseroad. However... the political landscape has shifted."
"Shifted how?" Naruto asked, his eyes drifting back to Margaery. She was watching him closely, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of a wine goblet.
"Stannis," Renly said, his handsome face darkening slightly. "My brother has besieged Storm's End with a small force. I must take my cavalry and ride east to deal with him. The main host, including the infantry and the court, will remain here at Bitterbridge under Lord Tyrell's command before moving toward King's Landing."
"And you're worried someone will try to prune the flowers while the gardener is away," Naruto surmised, a mocking edge to his voice.
Olenna Tyrell let out a sharp, dry cackle. "Listen to the sellsword. He has more wits than you, Mace. Yes, you foolish boy. The Lannisters have eyes everywhere, and with the realm in chaos, every brigand and broken man with a rusty sword will be looking at the Reach’s gold, and its ladies."
Mace cleared his throat loudly, glaring at his mother before turning back to Naruto. "Quite so. Therefore, I am altering your contract. The Dawnbreakers will not ride with the vanguard. Instead, your elite company will be retained as the personal, exclusive security force for my daughter, Lady Margaery, and the high ladies of the court remaining at Bitterbridge."
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "You want a man who commands searing plasma and solid light to act as a nursemaid?"
"We want the most terrifying, unbribable force in Essos protecting the future Queen of Westeros," Margaery spoke up, her voice smooth as cream, carrying a melodic cadence that commanded the room. She stepped forward, her silk gown rustling against the carpet, stopping just two paces from Naruto. The scent of lemons and sweet roses washed over him. "My father offers to double your retention fee, Captain. Twenty thousand gold dragons now, and another twenty thousand when we enter King's Landing. Surely, protecting a lady is far less taxing than dying in the mud for a vanguard?"
She looked up at him through her lashes, a look that had undoubtedly brought a dozen highborn lords to their knees. It was a calculated display of vulnerability mixed with royal promise.
Naruto didn't blink. He leaned in slightly, invading her personal space just enough to make the guards twitch. He could see the faint pulse in her throat, the slight widening of her pupils as she realized he wasn't backing down.
"Your grace," Naruto murmured, his voice dropping an octave, entirely ignoring the rest of the council. "You're very beautiful. But gold doesn't buy my loyalty. It only buys my time."
Margaery’s smile didn't falter, but a tiny, almost imperceptible tightness formed at the corner of her eyes. She wasn't used to men looking at her as if she were a prize to be taken rather than a goddess to be worshipped. "And is my father not buying your time, Captain?"
"He is," Naruto said, stepping back with a careless shrug. "And for forty thousand dragons, I'll ensure not a single hair on your pretty head is touched. Even if I have to burn half the Reach to do it."
"Excellent!" Mace Tyrell declared, clapping his hands together, entirely missing the sharp tension that had just crackled between his daughter and the sellsword. "The contracts will be drawn up by dusk. Captain, you and your senior officers are invited to feast with us tonight to celebrate our alliance."
"I'll be there for the food," Naruto said, turning on his heel without waiting to be dismissed. "The politics you can keep."
As he walked out of the pavilion, his saffron silks swirling around his legs, he could feel a pair of sharp, dark eyes boring into his back. He didn't need to turn around to know they belonged to Margaery Tyrell.
The feast was an opulent, roaring affair. The Tyrells spared no expense to prove they were the wealthiest house in the Seven Kingdoms. Huge roasted boars with apples in their mouths, platters of glazed duck, mountains of summer berries, and rivers of golden arbor gold wine flowed freely down the long trestle tables.
Naruto sat at the high table, an honor rarely accorded to a mercenary, but the Tyrells wanted to show off their exotic new weapon. He ignored the minor lords trying to engage him in talk of heraldry and tactical maneuvers. Instead, he drank his wine and watched the room.
Across from him sat Margaery. She was flanked by her cousins and a rotation of young knights who practically tripped over their own spurs to pour her wine or offer her the choicest cuts of meat. She smiled at all of them, laughed at their dull jokes, and played the part of the perfect, maiden queen.
But every so often, when the knights turned away, her gaze would drift across the table to Naruto.
He wasn't playing the game. He was eating with his hands, ripping apart a roasted capon with a casual, primal efficiency, and drinking straight from a silver pitcher. He caught her looking and raised the pitcher in a silent, mocking toast.
Margaery’s eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle challenge flashing in their depths.
An hour later, as the music grew louder and the lords more drunken, Margaery stood up, whispering something to her grandmother before slipping out of the side exit of the great pavilion, away from the roaring crowd and into the cool night air of the gardens.
Naruto watched her leave. He waited exactly three minutes, drained the last of his wine, and stood up to follow.
The gardens of Bitterbridge were a maze of high hedges, white stone paths, and night-blooming jasmine. The noise of the feast faded into a distant, rhythmic thrum, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the night breeze.
He found her standing by a marble fountain, the moonlight catching the silver threads of her gown, making her look like a spirit of the woods. She didn't turn around when his boots crunched on the gravel.
"It is bad manners to follow a lady into the dark, Captain," she said, her voice carrying a playful, yet dangerous edge.
"Good thing I'm a sellsword, not a knight," Naruto replied, stopping a few feet away. He leaned against a stone pillar, folding his arms across his chest. "No manners required."
Margaery turned slowly, her arms crossed under her breasts, tilting her head as she surveyed him. In the moonlight, her skin looked like polished ivory, and the low cut of her dress was even more prominent. "You don't care for our customs, do you? You don't care for our kings, our lords, or our laws."
"I care about what's real," Naruto said frankly. "Your kings are just men in expensive hats. Your laws only apply to the people who can't afford to break them. And your lords... well, most of them would shat themselves if they saw a real army from the East."
Margaery took a step closer, her eyes locked onto his. "And you? Are you a real army?"
"I'm the man keeping you alive while your husband rides off to fight his brother," Naruto said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register. "And let's be honest, Lady Margaery. You don't give a damn about Renly. You care about that golden chair in King's Landing."
Margaery’s breath hitched slightly. The mask of the sweet, innocent maiden slipped for a fraction of a second, revealing a cold, calculating ambition that was utterly intoxicating. "You speak of treason very lightly."
"It's only treason if you lose," Naruto countered, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. The ambient warmth of his body rolled over her, a stark contrast to the cool night air. "And I don't lose. If you want that chair, I can make sure you get to it. But stop trying to play your courtly games with me. I don't pull strings, and I don't dance for flowers."
Margaery looked up at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. No man had ever spoken to her like this. They flattered her, they groveled, they wrote bad poetry about her eyes. Naruto treated her like a woman, a dangerous, ambitious woman, and it sent a thrill of pure, terrifying electricity down her spine.
"You are very arrogant, Captain," she whispered, her lips parting slightly.
"I'm capable," Naruto corrected. He reached out, his hand moving with a sudden, fluid speed that she couldn't track. His rough, calloused fingers caught a loose strand of her brown hair, tucking it gently behind her ear. His skin brushed against her cheek, and she gasped at the sudden, intense heat of his touch. It felt like liquid summer, a primal, burning energy that made her entire body ache with a sudden, unwanted want.
"Let's make a deal, Margaery," Naruto murmured, his thumb lightly tracing the line of her jaw, his blue eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. "You play the queen for the lords. But behind closed doors... you leave the games outside."
Margaery's breath was shallow now. Her mind told her to scream for the guards, to have this brute executed for his insolence. But her body, trapped in the orbit of his blinding, hypnotic heat, refused to move. She felt entirely exposed, her carefully constructed defenses melting away under his blunt, searing focus.
"And if I refuse?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, though she tried to hide it behind a mask of defiance.
Naruto smiled, a slow, wicked curve of his lips that promised absolute ruin and absolute ecstasy. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You won't refuse. Because you've never met a man who can give you the world and burn your enemies to ash just to see you smile."
He stepped back, breaking the contact, and the sudden loss of his heat made her shiver in the night air. Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the lights of the feast, leaving Margaery standing by the fountain, her hand touching her cheek where his fingers had burned their mark into her skin.
The next three days were a whirlwind of dust and steel. Renly Baratheon, eager to prove his valor, split his host. He took ten thousand of his finest cavalry and galloped east toward Storm's End to confront Stannis, leaving Mace Tyrell in command of the massive infantry force and the royal baggage train at Bitterbridge.
With Renly gone, the atmosphere in the camp changed. The frantic energy of an impending march slowed to a crawl. Mace Tyrell was a cautious man, or rather, a lazy one, who preferred long breakfasts and endless councils to actual military maneuvers.
For the Dawnbreakers, however, the work had just begun.
Naruto’s sellswords had completely taken over the inner perimeter of the Tyrell encampment. They were a striking contrast to the local levies. Where the Reach soldiers wore mismatched iron plate and padded tunics, the Dawnbreakers moved with the disciplined precision of a well-oiled siege engine. They were men from all corners of the world, Lyseni, Tyroshi, Ibbenese, and seasoned pit-fighters from Meereen, all bound together by the immense wealth and terrifying power of their captain.
"They're watching us like hawks," Curtis muttered as he walked beside Naruto through the rows of white silk tents.
"Let them watch," Naruto replied, his eyes scanning the perimeter. "They're trying to figure out if we're worth the gold. Speaking of which, did the old crow send the first installment?"
"Aye. Twenty thousand dragons, all minted in Highgarden. They're locked in the iron chests in our primary baggage wagon. I have twenty men guarding them around the clock."
"Good. Tell the men to stay sharp. The Lannisters aren't the only threat. A camp this size attracts every vulture within a hundred leagues."
As they reached the center of the encampment, where the grand pavilion of Lady Margaery was situated, Naruto spotted a commotion. A crowd of Reach knights had gathered near the entrance, their voices raised in anger. At the center of the dispute was a young boy, no older than twelve, dressed in rags, being held by the collar by a burly knight in the livery of House Florent.
"I told you, boy, you don't belong here!" the knight shouted, shoving the child into the dirt. "Filthy little thief. You were trying to slip into the princess's tent!"
"I wasn't! I was just hungry!" the boy cried out, clutching his arm, which looked badly bruised. "Please, milord, I just wanted a scrap of bread!"
The Florent knight drew his heavy iron broadsword, a cruel sneer on his face. "A thief in the royal camp is executed. Let's see how well you climb with only one foot."
The crowd of knights watched with casual indifference or mild amusement. To them, a smallfolk child from the Reach was worth less than a good hunting hound.
Before the sword could descend, Naruto stepped through the crowd. He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't need to.
"Put the pig-sticker away, Florent," Naruto said, his voice ringing out across the clearing like a crack of thunder.
The knight froze, turning his head to glare at Naruto. "This is none of your business, mercenary. This is a matter of law for the Reach. The boy is a thief."
"The boy is a child," Naruto said, stopping a few paces away. He didn't look at the sword; his eyes were fixed entirely on the knight's face. "And since your Lord Paramount hired my company to handle the security of this inner perimeter, everything that happens here is my business. If I say he goes, he goes."
"You dare insult a knight of House Florent?" the man hissed, his face turning an angry shade of crimson. He shifted his stance, pointing the tip of his broadsword at Naruto's chest. "You're nothing but a glorified sellsword. A foreign dog who thinks because he can play with a few sparks, he can dictate terms to lords of the realm."
The surrounding knights murmured, shifting their weight, sensing a fight.
Naruto didn't lose his smile. In fact, it grew wider, sharper. "Sparks?" he murmured.
He didn't make a grand gesture. He simply extended his right hand, his fingers splaying open.
Instantly, the air around them grew suffocatingly hot. The grass beneath Naruto's boots turned brown and began to smoke. In the palm of his hand, a blinding, localized speck of pure white light manifested. It didn't look like fire; it didn't flicker or smoke. It was a solid, perfect sphere of searing plasma, humming with a terrifying, high-pitched vibration that sounded like a thousand angry hornets.
The light was so intense that several knights had to shield their eyes, crying out in alarm. The Florent knight’s face paled instantly, the bravado draining from his eyes as he felt the raw, skin-blistering heat radiating from just a few feet away.
"I don't play with sparks, little flower," Naruto said, his voice entirely calm, yet carrying the weight of an apex predator. "I command the sun. Now, you can put that piece of iron away and walk out of my sight, or I can turn your armor into a liquid metal suit that burns through your bones before you can scream for your mother."
The knight swallowed hard. His hand shook. He looked at the glowing sphere of pure destruction in Naruto's hand, then at the absolute certainty in the sellsword’s blue eyes. He knew, with absolute clarity, that he would die before his sword could even clear the distance.
With a muttered curse, the Florent knight slammed his sword back into its scabbard, turned around, and pushed his way through the crowd, fleeing the clearing. The other knights quickly followed, scattering like mice before a cat.
Naruto let the plasma sphere dissipate, the blinding light fading into nothingness, leaving only the smell of burnt grass and ionized air. He knelt down in the dirt, looking at the trembling boy.
"Can you walk?" Naruto asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.
The boy nodded quickly, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe. "Y-yes, milord. Thank you."
"Don't call me lord," Naruto said, reaching into the leather pouch at his waist and pulling out a silver stag, tossing it into the boy's lap. "Go to the western edge of the camp. Look for the Dawnbreakers' cook tents. Tell them Naruto sent you to get a full belly. And don't let me catch you sneaking around here again. Next time, I might let the flowers have you."
The boy grabbed the coin, bowed his head repeatedly, and scrambled away as fast as his legs could carry him.
"You're going to make a lot of enemies if you keep humiliating the local nobility, Captain," a smooth, familiar voice remarked from behind him.
Naruto stood up, dusting off his saffron trousers, and turned to see Margaery Tyrell standing at the entrance of her pavilion. She was accompanied by her grandmother, Lady Olenna, who was watching Naruto with a look that was dangerously close to approval.
"The local nobility has thin skin," Naruto replied, walking over to them. "And even thinner spines."
"A blunt assessment," Lady Olenna croaked, tapping her cane against the wooden walkway. "But not an inaccurate one. That Florent boy was a pompous ass. Still, my grandson-in-law Renly needs their swords, Captain. Try not to incinerate too many of them before we reach the capital."
"No promises, old lady," Naruto said with a grin.
Olenna chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. "Old lady? Insolent boy. Come, Margaery, let us leave the mercenary to his sunbeams. We have a council to attend, and your father is undoubtedly making a fool of himself."
Olenna walked away, her guards falling into step behind her. But Margaery lingered for a moment. She stepped closer to Naruto, her eyes dropping to his hand, which still retained a faint, residual warmth.
"That was... an extraordinary display," she whispered, her brown eyes shining with an intense curiosity. "I have read of the red priests of Rhaloo, and the pyromancers of King's Landing, but I have never seen anyone manipulate light like a physical object. Is it true what they say? That you cannot be burned?"
"Fire can't hurt the sun, Margaery," Naruto said, his voice dropping low so only she could hear. He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing against her shoulder. "Just like your little courtly games can't touch me."
Margaery looked up at him, a sudden, fierce intensity in her gaze. The fear she had felt the previous night had transformed into something else, a powerful, magnetic fascination. In a world full of weak men who hid behind their titles, Naruto was a force of nature. He was a man who could protect her from anything, a man who possessed a power that defied the very laws of the world.
"My father has ordered a grand feast tonight in honor of the goddess of summer," Margaery murmured, her voice a soft, breathless invitation. "The entire court will be there. But I find myself growing weary of the crowded halls."
"Is that so?" Naruto asked, a dangerous smile spreading across his face.
"Yes," she said, her eyes locking onto his lips for a brief, telling second. "I intend to retire early. My pavilion is heavily guarded by your men, Captain. I expect you to personally ensure that I am not... disturbed."
She turned and walked away before he could answer, her hips swaying subtly beneath the silk of her gown, a clear, unspoken challenge hanging in the air between them.
Night fell over Bitterbridge like a heavy velvet blanket, illuminated by thousands of torches and the roaring bonfires of the Tyrell feast. The distant sound of lutes, laughter, and drunken singing filled the air, but around the royal pavilion, the atmosphere was dead silent.
Four elite Dawnbreakers stood at the corners of the grand silk structure, their gold-washed steel armor gleaming in the moonlight. They stood like statues, completely immovable.
Naruto walked past them, giving a brief nod to the sentry at the entrance. He lifted the heavy green velvet curtain and stepped inside.
The interior of Margaery's pavilion was lit only by a few scented candles, casting long, flickering shadows across the luxurious space. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the sweet, heavy aroma of summer wine.
Margaery sat on a low, silk-covered divan at the back of the tent. She had unpinned her hair, and the thick, brown curls fell in a wild, beautiful cascade over her shoulders. She wore a loose, flowing robe of translucent white silk, fastened at the waist by a simple golden cord. The fabric was thin enough to hint at the soft, voluptuous curves beneath, the dark circles of her nipples and the elegant sweep of her hips.
She was holding a silver goblet, but she hadn't been drinking. She had been waiting.
"You're late, Captain," she said, her voice a low, sultry purr that vibrated through the quiet room.
"I had to make sure the perimeter was secure," Naruto replied, dropping the curtain behind him. He walked slowly into the room, his eyes fixed entirely on her. He unbuckled his brigandine, letting the heavy, gold-washed steel plates slide off his shoulders and hit the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Underneath, he wore only a loose black tunic, unbuttoned at the collar to reveal his tanned, muscular chest.
Margaery's breath hitched as she watched him undress. The raw, physical power he radiated was overwhelming. He didn't have the soft, pampered body of the highborn lords who courted her; his torso was a landscape of hard muscle, crisscrossed by white scars from a hundred battles.
"You look beautiful in the moonlight, Margaery," Naruto said, stopping at the edge of the divan. He didn't wait for an invitation. He sat down right next to her, his thigh pressing against hers through the thin silk of her robe.
The heat radiating from him was instantaneous, a fierce, burning warmth that made her skin tingle.
"You shouldn't be here," Margaery whispered, though she didn't move away. Instead, she leaned into his side, her body acting on a desperate, primal instinct that defied her political mind. "If my father... if anyone saw you..."
"I told you, Margaery," Naruto murmured, reaching out to cup her chin, forcing her to look into his brilliant blue eyes. "Behind these doors, the games stop. No kings. No fathers. No crowns. Just you and me."
Margaery looked into his eyes, her carefully constructed composure completely shattering. She was tired of being a political pawn, tired of playing the pristine maiden for a husband who didn't look at her, tired of calculating every word and smile. She wanted something real. She wanted to be consumed.
"Naruto," she breathed, her voice a desperate, broken sigh.
Lemon Scene Ahead
He didn't waste any more words. He leaned in, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss that took her breath away.
Unlike the gentle, tentative kisses of the highborn boys she had known, Naruto's kiss was a storm. It was demanding, primal, and filled with a burning, unyielding passion that left her completely defenseless. His tongue slid into her mouth, claiming her, tasting of the rich arbor wine and the wild, exotic heat of the East.
Margaery let out a low moan, her silver goblet slipping from her fingers and spilling onto the carpet as her arms flew up around his neck. She pulled him closer, her fingers tangling in his wild blonde hair, her body arching against his as she surrendered entirely to the current of pure, unadulterated pleasure rushing through her veins.
Naruto's hands moved with a practiced, confident efficiency. They slid down her throat, his rough palms scraping lightly against her sensitive skin, before moving down to cup the fullness of her breasts through the thin white silk. He squeezed them firmly, making her gasp into his mouth, his thumbs flicking against her hard, sensitive nipples.
The heat of his hands felt like a brand, melting away the last remnants of her royal restraint.
"You're burning me," she whispered breathlessly as he tore his lips away from her mouth, burying his face in the soft curve of her neck, his teeth biting lightly at her collarbone. "Naruto... it's too hot..."
"You can handle it," Naruto growled against her skin, his hands moving to the golden cord at her waist. With a single, sharp pull, the knot untied, and he pushed the white silk robe off her shoulders, exposing her magnificent, naked body to the flickering candlelight.
She was perfect. Her skin was a flawless, creamy white, her breasts full and heavy, tipping upward with dark, swollen aureoles, and her waist sloped into wide, voluptuous hips that framed a dark, curls-covered mound.
Naruto took a step back, his eyes darkening with a fierce, predatory hunger as he looked down at her. He stripped off his tunic and trousers in a few swift movements, standing before her in his full, magnificent nakedness. He was hard, a thick, heavy length of flesh that throbbed with the same unnatural heat that infused his blood.
Margaery’s eyes widened, a mixture of anticipation and a delicious, thrilling terror washing over her as she looked at him. This was no courtly romance. This was a baptism of fire.
Naruto crawled back onto the divan, pinning her beneath his heavy, muscular frame. His skin against hers was like a furnace, and she let out a breathless cry as his weight pressed her into the silk cushions.
"Remember this, Margaery," Naruto whispered, his blue eyes glowing like twin stars in the darkness as he parted her thighs with his knees. His fingers slid down between her legs, finding her already wet and dripping, her body completely primed for him despite her fear. "The iron throne doesn't matter. The lords don't matter. This is the only thing that's real."
He guided his thick, throbbing length to her entrance, pushing forward with a slow, unyielding pressure.
Margaery cried out, her fingers digging deep into the muscles of his back as he stretched her open, her body adapting to the massive, burning intrusion. It felt like he was filling her completely, burning away everything she had been, leaving only a raw, screaming need for more.
Lemon Scene End
And as the distant music of the feast continued to echo through the night, behind the closed silk curtains of the royal pavilion, the future Queen of Westeros surrendered herself entirely to the Sun of Asshai.
The weeks that followed the first secret encounter in the pavilion passed in a haze of summer heat and hidden passion.
Bitterbridge had become a permanent encampment for the infantry host. Mace Tyrell, comfortable in his secure position, showed no urgency to move. News reached the camp from the east: Renly Baratheon had met his brother Stannis beneath the walls of Storm's End, but before a battle could be fought, Renly had died under mysterious, horrifying circumstances. Rumors spoke of a shadow with the face of Stannis Baratheon cutting the king's throat inside his own tent.
The news threw the Tyrell camp into absolute chaos.
Lords bickered, knights shouted, and Mace Tyrell spent his days locked in his council chambers, panicking over what alliance to make next. The crown they had spent so much gold to secure was gone, shattered before it could even be placed on Renly's head.
But in the center of the camp, inside the heavily guarded perimeter of the Dawnbreakers, the world remained perfectly still.
Naruto stood on the wooden platform overlooking the camp, his arms resting on the railing as he watched the frantic movements of the Reach lords below. They were like ants whose hill had been stepped on.
"Renly's dead," Curtis said, stepping up beside him. "The storm lords have bent the knee to Stannis. Highgarden's alliance is broken."
"Good," Naruto said, a cool smile on his lips. "Renly was a fool anyway. A king who wins battles with smiles doesn't last long in a real war."
"What's our move, Captain? If Mace Tyrell panics and retreats to Highgarden, our contract might be canceled."
"The contract won't be canceled," Naruto said with absolute certainty. "Because Mace Tyrell isn't the one making the decisions anymore."
Before Curtis could respond, a servant in the livery of House Tyrell approached the platform, bowing deeply. "Captain Naruto. Lady Margaery requests your presence in her private solar. Immediately."
Naruto threw a look at Curtis, who gave a silent, knowing nod. "Keep the men alert, Curtis. The wind is changing."
The private solar inside the wooden manor house the Tyrells had seized was quiet. Unlike the panic in the rest of the castle, the room was cool, the windows shuttered against the midday sun.
Margaery sat at a small table, a map of Westeros laid out before her. She didn't look like a grieving widow. Her face was calm, her eyes sharp and cold with a calculating intelligence that had been honed to a razor's edge over the past weeks.
When Naruto entered, she closed the door behind him and locked it with a heavy iron bolt.
She turned to him, her silk gown, now a deep, dark green that bordered on black, a subtle nod to mourning that fooled no one, rustling as she moved. "Renly is dead."
"I heard," Naruto said, walking over to her and taking a seat on the edge of the table, looking down at the map. "Your father must be shitting himself."
"He is," Margaery said, stepping into his space, her hands reaching up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady, comforting beat of his heart. "He wants to retreat to Highgarden. He thinks the war is lost. He wants to lock our gates and hide until the storm passes."
"And what do you want, Margaery?" Naruto asked, his hand moving to cup her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh through the silk.
Margaery looked up at him, her eyes flashing with a dangerous, naked ambition. "I want King's Landing. Stannis is a fanatic. He will burn the septs, execution the lords, and turn the realm into a graveyard. The Lannisters are desperate. Joffrey is a boy on a throne, and Tywin Lannister needs an army to defeat Stannis."
Naruto raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You want to marry the boy king?"
"I want to be the Queen," Margaery corrected, her voice fierce and unyielding. "Joffrey is a monster, from what the rumors say. But monsters can be managed. A boy can be manipulated, especially if his throne is at stake. My father has sixty thousand fresh infantry here at Bitterbridge. If we march to King's Landing, we save the city, we destroy Stannis, and I take my seat on the Iron Throne."
Naruto pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "And what about us, Margaery? You think a Lannister king will let a sellsword captain handle his queen's security?"
Margaery wrapped her arms around his neck, her body melting against his heat. Over the past weeks, her secret trysts with Naruto had become her only sanctuary. He was her drug, her escape from the stifling hypocrisy of her life. She loved the power she wielded over others, but she craved the absolute surrender she experienced in his arms.
"You will ride with us, Naruto," she whispered, her voice filled with a desperate intensity. "My father will appoint the Dawnbreakers as my personal guard for the march. Once we are in King's Landing... Tywin Lannister will be too busy fighting Robb Stark to care about a foreign mercenary. We will find a way. We will always find a way behind closed doors."
Naruto looked down at her, seeing the perfect blend of the sweet, courtly maiden and the ruthless, ambitious queen. She was a beautiful, dangerous creature, and she was entirely his.
"Alright, Margaery," Naruto murmured, his hand sliding down her back to press her hips firmly against his throbbing heat. "If you want that golden chair, I'll carry you to it myself. And if this boy king tries to touch what's mine... I'll turn his Red Keep into a mountain of slag."
He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, burning kiss that sealed their dark alliance. The War of the Five Kings was changing, but the Sun of Asshai was ready to burn everything in its path to give his queen the world.
Chapter End
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
A/N: I appreciate everyone's support. See you later!