Disclaimer: All ASOIAF belongs to G. R. R. Martin, they're not mine nor do I profit from any fanwork.

Note: Written for the Kink Meme. OP link in my profile.

Those in throne room are standing still and in complete silence.

Some are not exactly sure how it had happened. Viserys Targaryen had taken control of the Red Keep, surprising everyone and reclaiming the Iron Throne for House Targaryen and proclaiming himself King.

And so it was that Viserys, Third of His Name sat upon the Throne, looking down with amusement as he drummed his fingers and waited for an answer. But no one was talking yet. Not after he had his men arrest the Usurper's son away to the Black Cells.

"And well, plan on answering my question?"

Silence.

"Come now, King's Landing, surely your tongues are still in place," Viserys smirked, "unless the Dragon got your tongues? You see, I feel it my right as King to take the usurper's betrothed."

If anything, people began to look paler, one lady in particular began to acquire a rather unpleasant shade of greyish-green that Viserys deemed unflattering. The green on green was clashing more than what he had thought possible. And if he was honest with himself, the lady looked ready to faint.

"So, speak, who is his betrothed?"

Suddenly, said lady began to raise a shaky hand and pointed towards another, "That is her, Your Grace, over there, Sansa Stark. She is his betrothed." Her voice had cracked for a small second.

"I thank you Lady…" He begins to rise from the Throne and descends the stars, walking towards the girl who has been identified as Joffrey's betrothed.

"Margaery Tyrell, your Grace." A slight curtsey. 'She could do a better one,' Viserys thinks.

The girl, who had been identified as Sansa Stark, took a step forward, she was lovely. Fair of skin, deep auburn hair and bright blue eyes. And her blue dress complimented her wonderfully. The girl stood tall and calm, her face a mask of politeness that revealed nothing of whatever it was that she was thinking.

"Is this true, my Lady, you are his betrothed?" He asked, already walking towards her. Once he was in closer, she made a motion to curtsey.

"I am, Your Grace." Her voice was soft and even. And she didn't seem too bothered that her betrothed had been taken away, bound and gaged. On the contrary, he could swear he could see a bit of relief in her eyes.

'She would beautiful in black and red' he thinks. Standing in front of her, he could appreciate her beauty up close. And never be said that Viserys wasn't chivalrous, he took her hand gently and asked "Sansa Stark, be my Queen?"

He is met with a dazzling smile, "It would be an honor, Your Grace." And she curtseys again, much lower than her previous one. Somewhere in the background is heard a small gasp.

He offers his arm so she may stand near the throne with him. She takes it and they begin to walk towards the Throne steps. Viserys spies a small smile on her lips. When he looks down again, he frowns, most are shocked, some are gaping like a fish and he notices that the Lady Tyrell has, indeed fainted. And the usurper's widow looks torn between laughter and tears.

"What are you all looking at me like that? What did you think I would do? I am no monster." He feels his now betrothed lay a gentle hand on his arm, and he is amused at finding a gleeful smirk.

"Oh it is nothing for a Dragon like yourself needs to worry about, Your Grace."

He smiles and nods at her. He's is home and he is King, life is good.

A/N: Unbeta-ed, all comments, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome. Thank you for reading.