randomosity | [For Hannibal] Alliance of Fire

She pursed her lips. Margaery had rather enjoyed being a Baratheon; the stage was a noble sigil and one that commanded respect in a way that wasn't so obvious as a lion or dire wolf. But the flayed man? She would prefer something more noble.

But she wouldn't be so foolish as to vocalize that; outnumbered by Boltons as she was.

The offer of a bath did make her smile. Margaery wondered if they had any scented oils here in the North, or if simply being clean was considered enough. "A bath would indeed be divine, thank you. The servants might also then take my gown for measurements, to make adjustments to the more climate-friendly gowns you offered?"

Margaery allowed herself a laugh and even blushed a bit. "Though I fear I will indeed look foolish. I'm not certain I would know how to move in wool and furs." She was used to silk and satin, ribbons and fine jewels or nothing at all. Finery, and luxury that the North usually scoffed at. She would look silly, and likely be mocked upon attending dinner.

As it was, she hadn't liked the look she'd received from the kennel master's daughter upon her arrival.

Hannibal gave her a hint of a smile as he gave another bow. "After you have rested everything will be prepared for your bath. I will introduce to you the serving women whom you can trust."

His eyes looked her over for a long moment before he shook his head in disagreement. "I do not think you would look foolish. Moving about in such clothing is not so difficult as the finer fabrics from the south. The largest difference is the weight." He offered. "Rest well my Lady." He said before shutting the door behind him.

He paused on the other side of the door and shook his head at himself. She was indeed quite fair. However, the additional praise of her looks was unnecessary on his part. He would remain standing just on the other side of the door until he heard her lock the door.

Margaery smiled a bit brighter and bigger, why did his praise and compliments make her so happy? "You're kind to say so, thank you."

Once he shut the door, Margaery moved to lock the door. She removed her necklace and tucked it beneath the bed, hoping to keep something of value hidden in case someone came thieving while she slept despite the locked door.

It was a good long while that she slept, but it was still light out when she woke again. Margaery moved to unlock the door and opened it carefully. She didn't feel brave enough to venture out, but at the very least if someone were watching, they'd know she was awake.

Margaery just prayed it wasn't Ramsay.

Hannibal made multiple preparations for Margaery's bath. The golden tub was in his room and ready to be moved into her chamber once she awoke. He had a variety of oils that he had checked for poisons in his chambers that he was keeping an eye upon. He would have one of the maids test the water to be certain his brother did not try something himself or through his whore from the kennels.

Hannibal remained in his chambers while she slept. He had been reading for a time. After finishing his book, he had stripped down to his pants. Even his feet were bare. He began to do some sport exercises. When Margaery opened the door, she would see his bare back as he drank water. There was very little sweat, but she could easily see the muscle that covered his frame.

Margaery paused when she opened the door and saw Hannibal's muscular frame. Jeffrey, being a boy, had never been terribly muscular; even Renly had been more slender of frame than anything. She could obviously see the muscles beneath his skin and the healthy glow he exuded. Her mouth watered a bit.

Had he planned this? Was he trying to seduce her prior to the wedding to force her into it? Two could play that game; she wasn't about to be swayed so easily.

"Pardon, my lord. I did not mean to interrupt," Margaery looked away and even blushed a light pink. Her dark eyes flashed up though, as though she were peeking at some forbidden act or treasure. Why not let him think the plan was working, if it had indeed been planned?

It had not been Hannibal's plan. He had thought he would hear her ring the bell rather than just open the door. He turned to face her as he reached down to put his tunic back on. There was mild frustration in his eyes as he saw the blush on her cheeks. He was not fooled by her game.

"You should have rang the bell before opening the door. It is a good thing I remained here instead of pertaining to business with my father. There will come a time when you are safe from my brother. Until that day you should be more mindful of your actions." He was re-dressing himself as he spoke to her.

He smoothed back his hair once he was fully clothed again and motioned towards the gowns hanging nearby. "These were my mothers. I picked a few that have a similar style to what you are accustomed to. The innermost later is silk. Do these please you?" He asked.

He ignored her game for the moment. He would watch to see if she would continue that game as their time together progressed.

Her blush faded as he scolded her. Margaery brought her hand down and her body shifted back a bit. She listened, her eyes locked with his and not turned down in submission as he spoke. When he finished she closed her eyes and bowed her head a little.

"You are right. Please forgive my foolishness, I shall try to take better care in the future," which hopefully would not be long.

When he mentioned the gowns, Margaery stepped forward and examined them. She turned through a few and found one with a bodice of leather inlaid with fine stitching, even if the design was the Bolton crest. "They're lovely. Northern fashion is not given proper credit."

She lifted the gown and tilted her head, examining it further. Lovingly she laid it down upon Hannibal's bed and moved to untie her own dress. It was a thin gown, so it fell away and pooled at her feet with minimal movement, leaving her bare before him - it was another move in her game; she pretended to ignore him, yet made sure her breasts were kept hidden from his view so that he only saw the slender curve of her lower back, her pristine shoulders and round ass. Margaery a stepped into the heavier gown to try it on.

Only when it was secure did she turn to face Hannibal again. "It's not much different in size as I had imagined. Heavy indeed though, it will take time to get used to it."

She looked up with a playful smile. "Does it suit me, my lord?"

Hannibal watched as she dropped the game at his scolding. He watched as she took the gown to his bed. His dark eyes did indeed take in her fair skin and body. However, he removed the pure lust that stirred within him from his eyes.

He stepped forward to inspect her in his mothers dress. "It seems a bit tight around your bust." He noted as he moved behind her to examine the fit of the dress. He leaned in to speak lowly into her ear. "Careful with the games you play here. You may get more than you bargained for." He said with a slight rumble in his voice.

He took a few steps away from her before motioning to the books on a nearby table. "I have collected from my father's library. I can place any that interest you in your chamber of that would please you."

Margaery glanced down when he commented how it fit her bust. Her fingers ran along the collar and bust line. It was a bit tight, and pressed her breasts together and made them swell a bit over the gown. But when he whispered so close to her ear, Margaery had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning. The heat of his breath and the rumble of his voice...oh, this was going to be a challenge.

But she reminded herself that he was a Bolton, probably used to taking what he wanted, just like his father. She glanced over her shoulder to him. "I enjoy a challenge."

She played the game of thrones well enough at King's Landing. But she wondered if her skills were enough for the North.

Margaery moved to the books rather stiffly, not used to the heavy gown. She lacked a great deal of her grace and sensual movements. But with Ramsay lurking about, she was probably better off.

She found books of poetry and history, and promptly set them aside. "Your father will not mind me keeping these for a bit?" She found a book of maps and North folklore that she would probably find useful. "These seem awfully important."

Hannibal saw her bite the inside of her cheek and stored that knowledge away for later. Her confidence was amusing, he wondered how much of it was bluster and when the time truly came for her to truly undress for him to consummate their marriage...if her true feelings would be known.

He noted how she moved a bit more stiffly in this dress. Soon enough she would be walking just as elegantly in these dresses as those she was accustomed to.

Her question about the books was met with a shake of his head. "My father has no need for these books. They are yours to do as you please." He said.

Margaery nodded slowly and flipped through a poetry book. "Even so, I shall endeavor not to keep them occupied long." They weren't hers to keep in the long run, after all.

But she grew weary of the books soon enough and set the poetry book down to move on towards the tub. Her fingers ran along the golden rim. Such extravagance. Even in Highgarden the tubs were not made of gold. She glanced up to Hannibal, unsure that he intended to have the tub moved, wondering if he intended for her to bathe here.

"Is the bath ready?" More so she meant 'safe'. She too was worried that Ramsay may have poisoned the water, or put some terrible acid in it to mar her fair skin.

Hannibal watched as she admired the golden tub. He could tell she was convinced that this marriage would not happen. A discussion he would have with her later.

He nodded at her question. "The tub will be moved into your chambers. I have a variety of oils that have been within my sight while you rested. I will have to servants place their hands in the water to test the temperature of the water." He said.

Hannibal would marry Margaery Tyrell, and he did not want his future bride disfigured simply from lack of caution.

Margaery looked a bit surprised when he announced that he would have the servants put at risk to investigate the water. Again she blushed. It was as if he were truly concerned for her - that, or he simply did not want his bride-to-be disfigured for appearances' sake.

Either way, it was admirable.

"You're very considerate, my lord," If she could take him at face value, perhaps being his wife wouldn't be so bad. But Margaery suspected there was more to Hannibal of House Bolton than meets the eye.

Hannibal was very possessive of his things. Margery was included in that list currently. He would not allow anything to happen that would harm or maim her. He gave her a short bow before ringing a bell. Soldiers from his personal guard came in to move the tub into her chambers. The men came in groups of three with buckets of hot water. One to carry and two to guard it. It was a matter of 15 minutes before the bath was filled. Three serving women arrived, meek little things. Hannibal placed a variety of sweet oils and scents into the water. Each of the three maid stuck their hands in without hesitation or complaint. Not a single one was marred by the water or the oils. The bath was safe for Margaery.

The soldiers were gone in a moment leaving the three girls, Hannibal, and Margaery. "Enjoy your bath My Lady. The girls are excellent seamstresses and can adjust the dress you are wearing while you bathe. Once you are prepared for dinner, ring the bell." He said before bowing and making his exit. One of the girls locked the door immediately after he left. All three of these girls were trusted by Hannibal. None of them did tasks for Ramsay, as was evident by some scars on their bodies hidden by their clothing.

There was indeed a lot more to Hannibal than met the eye. He did a variety of tasks to keep his father pleased with his work. That way his father would not uphold the one tradition of marriage his family still practiced. He had a plan to ensure that Margaery would be his and his alone. Once he had Margaery, he could make more decisions on his own and finish what his father started with this war. Hannibal had his own intentions for the Iron Throne, and he knew how he could win it...after he removed the teeth from the lioness and her cub.

Margaery paid very close attention to the movements of the soldiers and maids as they prepared her bath. Such a fuss to make over her. Margaery began to wonder if Hannibal was indeed that paranoid over his brother. But he had every reason to be; Ramsay seemed a proper lunatic.

When it was deemed safe and the door was locked, Margaery let the maids take her measurements and undress her from the gown. As she settled into the bath and let the sweet oils melt into her skin, Margaery sighed in delight. She could very well have been at Highgarden for this luxury.

The maids spoke softly to her and told her of Winterfell while she bathed. Margaery asked that the heavy lining of the gown be altered just slightly to allow her more movement. The maid obeyed, of course, and altered the gown so that the back was open as well, per the lady's request.

Margaery wasn't worried about her back freezing; she had long enough hair for that. Once she was done the maids helped dry and dress her once again. The maid finished the dress by altering the neckline and giving Margaery the more plunging cut of gown that she was used to; not terribly dramatic, but enough to show off the swell of her full bosom. Once she was properly perfumed and her jewels decorated her fair throat again, Margaery did as commanded and rang the bell.

Somehow the thought of him being angry with her and scolding her again made her uneasy.

The maids also spoke of the Bolton's and how they interacted. The youngest of the girls seemed to be the quietest when they spoke. The older two said fair things of Hannibal, but nothing about his personality.

The youngest helped to put Margaery's jewelry back on. The elder two waited at the door for the signal that Hannibal was on the other side of the door. The youngest spoke softly. "He is a good man m'lady. He only shows it to someone he can trust with his life." She said softly.

There was a firm knock on the door and the maids opened it. Hannibal was standing there in one of his finer suits. "Dinner is ready My Lady." He said as he waited for her to step out of her chambers. He was curious how the maids had been able to alter the dress.

Margaery listened as the girls spoke. But to be honest, she wasn't certain if they spoke of their own free will, or if they had been told to do so. So she wasn't certain she believed them. But the youngest...the way she was so timid and sweet, Margaery tilted a brow.

There was perhaps a pang of jealousy in her eyes, but she knew not why. She smiled though and treated her kindly all the same.

As Hannibal called to her, Margaery left her small room, tugging at the sleeves of the gown. She never wore sleeves. This was a strange sensation for her. She looked up though, and smiled, a picture of loveliness with the gown adjusted to suit her figure and tastes and her hair cascading in brunette waves down her back, just barely showing the flash of soft skin exposed by the new cut of the gown.

"Well? Does it suit me better now?"

The maids had not been put up to anything by Hannibal at least. The youngest would speak more to Margaery if she requested it of her. The young girl was indeed shy, but sweet.

Hannibal saw how she tugged at the sleeves, but he immediately noted the changed neckline of the gown and how Margaery seemed to move in it better than before. There was genuine attraction in his eyes as he offered his arm. "Indeed it does. It nearly looks like the style they wear in the south. You might start a new fashion trend here in the North." He offered as a complement.

The additional skin was nice, but also tasteful. Hannibal would enjoy this evenings meal quite well. Hannibal offered his arm and led her back towards the main dining hall. Along the way, she would see the men outside preparing a small caravan for the trip south. Roose Bolton was not bluffing when he said they would return her to Highgarden to have a wedding and to pack her clothing to move North.

Margaery saw that glint in his eye and it gave her confidence. Gladly she took his arm and let him lead her to the dining hall.

"Thank you, my lord," she smiled and even leaned into him as she took his arm. "You're kind to say so."

Margaery saw the caravan preparing for a long journey. That put her mind at ease. They would go to Highgarden and her grandmother would sort all this out. But...at the same time, this wasn't so bad.

When they arrived at the dining hall, Roose and Ramsay were already there. Ramsay gave a haughty sneer upon seeing Margaery. But Margaery, having no time for him, lifted her nose in the air and ignored him. "Good evening, Lord Bolton," she greeted Roose with a smile and a bow of her head.

Hannibal noted her gaze at the caravan and saw the conflict within her eyes. He would test her honesty before leaving Winterfell. She would have to show some trust before he would be willing to let her see glimpses of his true nature.

He led her into the hall and also ignored his brother.

Roose gave a nod of approval, but his face remained as stoic as before. "I trust you saw the caravan being prepared? We have heard rumors of a large snow storm. My scouts are checking those reports as we speak. If the storm is mild we will leave in three days time. However, if the storm is a threat to our safety on the roads, we will wait for it to pass." He explained.

Hannibal said nothing, but he gave her hand a gentle pat. He led her to their seats. Margaery was sitting next to Hannibal on the right of Roose. Ramsay was sitting on the left of Roose. Two guards brought the girl from the kennels in to stand off to Anne's right. Hannibal nodded to the girl. "She is to be your food taster." He explained.

Margaery nodded to Roose as she sat down. She wasn't necessarily disappointed that it would take time to leave for Highgarden, and it was easier for Ramsay to travel with a small band of guards than it would be for all of them. "I understand, there's no need for senseless risks, after all," she nodded.

When they brought in the kennel master's daughter, Margaery gave a satisfied smile. Ramsay didn't find it amusing. He hadn't poisoned Margaery, oh no, he had bigger plans. She would suffer for irritating him if he had any say about it.

"Is that really necessary?" Ramsay grumbled as he took a gulp of wine. "Such high maintenence, this girl."

"I was not the one who requested it," Margaery pointed out as she lifted her wine glass to the girl for her to test. "Clearly your kin has no trust for you. That is your doing, not mine."

But she was determined to be ladylike and civil at the table. Ramsay, however, did not share that view. "I've never understood the point of tasters," He sighed as Margaery drank her wine when it was deemed safe. "If you know the taster, you could always just, help them develop a tolerance for the poison you plan to use on you victim. Lull them into a false sense of security when the taster eats the food and deems it safe....or drinks the wine."

Margaery glared over the rim of her cup a day slowly set it down. Ramsay hadn't poisoned her, but she didn't know that, and the suggestion had her uneasy.

Roose ignored the presence of a taster and ate his meal in silence. Ramsay's last comment drew a turn of his head towards the bastard. "Stop pouting that your little whore is checking the food for poisons and rotten meat. Regardless of what you do to her, you would never risk building her tolerance for poison. Now eat and stop this idle prattle to make our guest nervous." He said cooly.

Hannibal saw the interaction and reached slowly to take Margaery's hand. He motioned to the wine. "It is perfectly safe My Lady." He said. He knew any hesitation from the kennel girl would be a warning sign of foul play.

Hannibal had built up an immunity to all poisons to extend his life. Ramsay had poisoned him a number of times, but Hannibal had not even had a mild stomach ache from the various poisons.

Ramsay grumbled when his father scolded him, but he continued to drink and eat his meal. He made it a point to note this night as another reason to kill Margaery, slowly and painfully. He considered pulling out her fingernails, her teeth and eyes and tongue - take away her beauty, and what was she? Nothing really.

Ramsay smiled to himself, which was unsettling for Margaery but she took to ignoring him. She drank her wine as the girl tested her food. When it was deemed safe, Margaery ate slowly, almost reluctantly. It was good food, but Ramsay had put her off and made her nervous.

She tried not to let it show, but had minimal success.

Hannibal noted how slow she was eating and set his utensils down. He summoned one of his men forward and gave silent commands. The man nodded and bowed before stepping out of the hall. Hannibal stood slowly as he looked at his father. "Thank you for the fine meal father. My Lady has requested a tour of the grounds." He said as he turned to Margaery and offered her his hand.

He could tell she was not comfortable and he was not going to let his brother sour what he had begun building with her. The young maids brought an extra thick fir coat to place upon Margaery's shoulders as Hannibal's men placed a dark black cloak upon his broad shoulders. He led her out the main doors and towards his kennels. He knew some of them had birthed pups. He wanted her to grow fond of them and for them to take in her scent to protect her should he not be around.

They did bark a bit and a few let out some growls, but Hannibal calmed them with a single whistle. He summoned the top alpha male to inspect
Margaery. The wolf took a few moments before licking at her hand. Hannibal have a smile. "The alpha has accepted you. My wolves will be an added level of security for you." He said.

Margaery was surprised when Hannibal stood up so suddenly and excused them from the table. Ramsay snorted and took a long drink from his cup, but said nothing. Margaery stood and when the maids put the cloak of fur about her shoulders she looked to Hannibal with grateful eyes.

She followed him out, and when they were out of the castle and into the courtyard Margaery leaned into him. "Thank you..." she whispered.

Though once they were in the kennels though, she was afraid. She looked to the dire wolves with wide eyes. They were beautiful, but terrifying. When he exerted such control over the wolves, Margaery looked at him in awe. It was not any man who could control those animals so fully, even more impressive that he wasn't a Stark.

When the alpha came forward Margaery held her hand out strongly, but cautiously. When he licked her she sighed in relief. When he spoke, she looked up to him with her dark eyes wide. "...will you show me? The commands you give them, will you teach me?"

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