Alaric stopped walking. He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you ask that?"
Margaery didn't answer right away. She stepped right in front of him and reached up. She hooked her finger under the thick collar of his black tunic. With a slow, deliberate pull, she dragged the heavy fabric to the side, exposing his neck and shoulder.
The skin across his collarbone was covered in dark red love bites and small teeth marks.
Margaery traced the edge of a fresh bruise with her thumb. Her eyes sparked with a mix of amusement and a very Tyrell kind of competitiveness.
"She left quite a mark ," Margaery murmured. "I didn't think the quiet Northern girl had it in her."
Alaric chuckled low in his throat. He didn't pull away or try to cover the marks. "She had a lot of nervous energy to burn off after the explosion yesterday."
"I see," Margaery said softly. She let go of his tunic and smoothed her hands flat against his chest. She looked up directly into his eyes. The playful amusement faded, replaced by a warm, demanding heat.
"Well," Margaery whispered, her voice dropping into a confident purr. "I suppose I also have lot of nervous energy to burn off."
She turned around and started walking straight toward the edge of the water. She reached behind her back and began to untie the laces of her light green dress. She didn't stop, and she didn't look back to see if he was coming.
Alaric watched her for a second. A slow smirk spread across his face. He reached down, unbuckled his heavy leather sword belt, and let it drop into the soft grass. He pulled his black tunic over his head, tossed it aside, and followed her.
Alaric stepped over the smooth white rocks. Margaery let her green dress slide off her shoulders. It fell into a pile at her feet. She stood in the cool air, completely bare, looking out at the waterfall.
Alaric stopped right beside her. He looked at the falling water, then down at her.
"So," Alaric said, a teasing edge in his voice. "Your grand plan for the day was just to drag me out into the wild to have fun?"
Margaery turned to face him. She didn't try to cover herself. Instead, she raised her hand and gave him a small, quick punch right in the center of his chest.
"Of course it was," Margaery said, though she was smiling. "We can't exactly spend time together back at the camp. There are too many lords watching our every move, too many meetings, and just too much going on. I am not as free as you seem to think I am."
She stepped a little closer, sliding her hands up to rest flat against his warm skin. She looked up at him, putting on a fake, offended pout.
"I went out of my way to find this place," she murmured, her voice dropping into a soft, complaining tone. "I took the time to get you all the way out here just so we could be alone. And you still don't appreciate me."
Alaric let out a low, rough laugh. He reached down and wrapped his large hands around her bare waist. With a gentle pull, he brought her forward until she was pressed completely against him.
"Who said I didn't appreciate it?" Alaric asked, his voice a low, steady rumble.
He didn't let her step away. Instead, he shifted his grip on her waist and slowly turned her around so she was facing the falling water again. He stepped in close, pressing his warm, bare chest flush against her bare back.
"Spending the afternoon in a place like this," he whispered, leaning down so his mouth was right next to her ear. "With my wife. I appreciate it exactly as much as I should."
He slid his hands slowly up her stomach, his large palms moving up to firmly cup her bare breasts. He massaged her gently but with a confident, heavy touch. Margaery let out a soft, sudden gasp. she leaned her weight back against his chest and let her head drop onto his shoulder.
Alaric pressed a warm kiss to her cheek, then moved down to press his lips against the sensitive skin of her neck.
Margaery let out a soft, shaky breath. She leaned into him for a moment, but then her body tensed just a little. She opened her eyes and looked around the open clearing and the tall trees.
"This is sheer madness," she whispered. She reached up and rested her hands over his, slowing his movements down. "We are standing completely bare in the middle of the woods, Alaric. Like a pair of wildlings."
She let out a nervous little laugh. A faint blush crept over her cheeks, breaking her perfect, practiced confidence for a second. "My grandmother would strike me with her cane if she saw me right now. Highborn women from the Reach do not roll around in the mud and the leaves. It feels so... common."
Alaric didn't let her pull away. He just chuckled quietly against her skin. He kissed the side of her neck again, right below her ear.
"You were the one who brought us out here," he reminded her, his voice low and teasing.
"I wanted privacy," Margaery argued lightly. Her voice hitched as his hands shifted against her skin. "I wanted to be away from the camp and all those staring lords. I just didn't really think about the dirt and the bugs."
Alaric turned her slowly in his arms so she was facing him again. He looked down at her flushed face.
"You are the Queen," Alaric said. He reached up and brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. "You own this forest now. If you want to strip down in the woods, no one is going to tell you it is wrong."
He slid his hands down her back, resting them firmly on her hips, and pulled her tight against him. She gasped softly as she felt exactly how ready he was.
"Besides," Alaric added, a wicked smirk crossing his face. "I promise you are not going to care about the dirt in a few minutes."
Alaric didn't wait for her to agree. He kept one hand firmly cupped around her breast, his thumb circling her nipple with a steady, heavy pressure that made her breath hitch. His other hand slid down, tracing the curve of her hip before dipping lower.
Margaery let out a sharp, jagged gasp as he pushed his fingers into her. She was already slick and ready for him, her body reacting to his touch before she could even protest the "common" setting of the forest floor. She arched her back, her bare skin flush against his heated chest, and her head fell back against his shoulder.
"Alaric..." she whimpered, her voice lost in the sound of the rushing waterfall.