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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Erotica · #2027673
A stuffing story based off of characters created by George R.R. Martin.
This choice: In Margaery's room...  •  Go Back...
Chapter #2

In Margaery's room...

    by: Ferrum ex Glacium Author IconMail Icon
Margaery pushed her way past her servants, and threw open the door into her chambers, where a very bewildered looking coal boy looked up from his flame. The soot covered boy hastily bowed and uttered "Your Grace" before scurrying past Margaery, into the hallways.

"Paper and Ink." Margaery called out as she walked over to her closet and held out her arms in a "t" pose. Her two handmaidens, Mira and Sera, quickly began to undress her from her elaborate gown as her servants fetched the writing utensils.

"And send for dinner to be sent to my chamber. I would fancy roast swan this evening." the Queen spoke in a softer tone, reigning in her anger. More servants hastened to her wishes as she was finally undressed, standing in but her small clothes. She placed a hand gingerly on her abdomen and turned to her handmaidens.

"All this talk of executions and starving villagers makes one utterly famished, does it not?" Margaery spoke as her servants left her with her handmaidens. A slight nod and quieted "Yes" was elicited from Sera, as a more impassioned "Yes, Lady Margaery." came from Mira.

"No appetite, Sera? I could understand. Seeing an unnecessary death is always saddening." she said as the duo began dressing her into her nightgown.

"It's not that, My Lady, it's the Queen Reagent. That boar was twice as large as I am, and she ate it in less then twenty minutes. How can she even do such a thing?" Sera spoke in a quick, uncomposed voice.

"You would be surprised at the capacity of a woman who was born with a little talent and whose had a little practice. And Cersei was born with a lot of talent, and has had much practice in the recent months. If you could manage to find enough food and commitment for the task, you would quickly begin to make progress, I'd wager." Margaery lectured as she was finished being dressed.

"Really?" Sera asked, inquisition on her face. "There are others who can do that?"

"Oh, yes, even here at court. Lady Taena, of Myr for one, and myself, of course." she said as she began to strut towards her desk.

"You?!" Sera replied, shocked. "You could eat an entire boar that large?!"

"And come back for dessert." she said with a practiced smile. "The Reach is the greatest producer of food in the whole of Westeros, and Highgarden lays at a crossroads of the most fertile farming, grazing, and hunting lands in The Reach. Our larders were always full, and by extent, so was I. Maybe one day I can show you two."

"You would honor us, Your Grace, but, if you eat so much, why aren't you... you know..." Sera broke eye contact and looked way.

"Large." Mira finished bluntly.

"I haven't a clue. I suppose I am lucky. I always had the talent." Margaery said dismissively as she dipped a quill in a inkwell. "Now, if you two will excuse yourselves; I have letters to compose, and I believe I smell roasted swan on the wind."

"Of course, Lady Margaery." Both muttered before curtsying and leaving the room, their presences shortly thereafter replaced by two men baring a silver platter.

"Your supper, Your Grace." A third man spoke from the doorway.

"Ah, wonderful. Place it on my desk here." Margaery said, salivating from the smell. "And send for another."

"Your Grace?" The man said questioningly.

"Fetch me another." she reiterated.

"Of course, Your Grace." He replied with a puzzled look on him. The platter was set to her left and the cover removed, revealing a large carcass cooked a golden brown. The spice augmented two-stone heavy bird was larger then Margaery's torso, but she immediately began attacking it regardless, the three men leaving as she started. As her right hand wrote, her left grabbed pieces from the swan and brought them to her mouth. Skin, fat, meat, bone, and cartilage were all torn, chewed, and swallowed without hesitation as Margaery's hand flew across the paper. In ten minutes, her hand grasped only at air.

She disappointingly gazed at the empty platter next to her. Sighing, she returned her focus to her letter. Any man could read the parchment and find a harmless letter directed to her grandmother, Lady Olenna, regarding recent feasts and balls she had attended and inquiring about the state of Highgarden, but none save Margaery and Olenna themselves could find the encoded meaning in the methodical words. It was a difficult process, but Margaery had practice and intelligence to aid her efforts, making the process much simpler. She signed her name at the bottom of the sheet as the door opened once more, revealing the same three men.

"There you are, finally!" Margaery nearly shouted.

"I apologize Your Grace, we brought the swan out as soon as it was... done." the third man said, curiously eyeing the empty platter.

"Don't bother with the spices this time then." she said.

"This time?"

"Bring another." Margaery said very matter-of-factly as the platter was placed next to her.

"As you wish, Your Grace." The Three departed as Margaery dug in with gusto, once again grinding all parts of the swan into a wet paste before gulping it down. As she did so, she read her letter's intended meaning back to herself.

"Cersei bringing realm down with her. Tommen will side with me. Peasants have reason to hate Cersei. Perfect time to depose. Thoughts?" As she translated, her hand once again grasped at nothing. She released a soft, feminine belch as she reached for another parchment.

"Now to insinuate allliances and rewards..." Margaery thought as she began. Several minutes later, the door opened to the same three men, another platter being carried.

"This is taking too long. Bring it raw next time." Margaery said as the platter was placed next to her, not looking up from her work.

"What?" The man said with a look of disbelief on his face.

"Raw." Margaery said, already shoving the wing of the Swan into her maw, grinding it to bits in moments before sending it to join the mush of two swans inside of her. The three exchanged looks before leaving. In but five minutes, the bird was but a belch as Margaery felt her hunger growing, rather then shrinking. The sensation reminded her of her late teenaged years, where she would stuff herself to capacity nearly every meal. It was something she hadn't been able to do often since her arrival at King's Landing. She impatiently look towards the door for the next minute, until it opened to the three again.

"You're taking so long!" Margaery cried out as the two panting servers nearly dropped the platter onto her desk.

"The bird had to be plucked..."

"Then don't pluck it this time. If I finish this swan before you're back, I'll see to it that you spend the rest of your days begging in Flea Bottom." Margaery said, in a voice filled with aggravation.

"Of course, Your Grace" the man muttered before he and the two servers ran from the room. The uncooked swan was still whole, with head attached. This didn't bother Margaery, who chomped her way down the whole of the neck in one blood filled mouthful. She halted her work on her letters to fully devote her efforts to fitting the swan inside of her. Two minutes later, the door flew open as the last bloody mouthful of the bird slid down Margaery's throat.

"Another." is all Margaery said before she began eating the feathered carcass. Another two minutes passed, before the three entered the room to find another swan gone.

"Another." was uttered four more times, and four more swans met undignified ends before the serving man stepped forward, nearly on the verge of collapse.

"There are no more swans, Your Grace, you have eaten every swan in the royal larder!" Margaery paused for a moment at the utterence of this. She opened her mouth put her hand forward and pointed upwards, as though to interrupt before she belched for nearly twenty seconds straight. A gout of saliva drenched swan feathers flew from her mouth as she did so.

"Excuse me." she said with a smirk. She looked down to her perfectly flat stomach and still felt great hunger. She paused for a second before continuing: "Tell me, are there any boars in the larder?" she asked.

"Yes, there is one. The Queen-Reagent was saving it for her-"

"I want it. Now." Margaery said commandingly.

"But the Queen had..."

"The Queen-Reagent had demanded it be saved for her. The Queen demands you to bring it to her this instant." The man paused for a second before nodding his head and leaving the room. About ten minutes later, five men brought the beast into the room, placing it on a table opposite Margaery. It was just as large as the boar Cersei had eaten in the court room, weighing nearly fifteen stone.

"That will be all for this evening, gentlemen. Thank you." Margaery said. Standing and walking to the table. All five bowed and exited as Margaery took note of the time on her water clock. Nine hours past midday. Margaery tore into the beast as fast as Wildfire through paper, biting through bone with each chomp. In a flurry, Margaery devoured the entirety of the animal. She placed a hand on her gut, whose noises had become audible, and belched loudly. She pivoted on one leg and broke wind rather loudly as she looked to the clock. It had been five minutes. She smirked and walked to her bed, feeling satisfied for the first time in a while. Not full, but definitely satisfied. Margaery laid down and quickly drifted to sleep, thirty three stone of animal happily digesting within her.

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1. The Next Morning...

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