Margaery Tyrell (
tyrelltempest) wrote in
randomosity2016-06-12 09:41 pm
[For Hannibal] Alliance of Fire
Renly Baratheon was dead, leaving his claim to the throne empty and his wife Margaery Tyrell a widow. Roose Bolton, of course, could spy an opportunity a mile away. He sent a raven to Highgarden, to Lord Mace Tyrell. Roose proposed that his youngest son and only legitimate heir be married to Margaery. Mace agreed, rather quickly as well - likely out of fear for the Bolton name.
But of course, Olenna Tyrell wasn't about to let that agreement happen. At least not on any terms but her own. So the agreement was made, but a time for delivering her to Winterfell had not been determined, and Olenna was not about to agree to one.
Ramsay Snow, wanting to be useful to his father and acknowledged as a true Bolton, decided to take action on his own. He took a small band of Bolton men and rode to Highgarden - he knew Margaery was there, after her day-long marriage to the late King Joffrey had ended. He kidnapped the Tyrell heiress and rode back to Winterfell. When he arrived, he dragged Margaery in with no amount of mercy or delicacy. He found his half-brother and father in a sitting room going over charts and battle strategies. Margaery, clad in a light dress with a keyhole opening at the front showing her cleavage and wrapping around her lower back, showing off the curves of her back and the lean muscle beneath her skin. Her skin was cold and covered in goosebumps, her lips slightly dark and a light shade of blue. But all the fire and anger was in Margaery's eyes. She wrenched herself free of Ramsay's grip and pulled her lips back to bare her teeth.
"Unhand me, mongrel!" she hissed.
"Dear father, brother - see what I've brought? We'll not have the Tyrells welching on their agreement any longer," Ramsay grinned. "The flower is a little frosty, but only because she did not appreciate my generosity of allowing her to ride in the carriage."
"What I did not appreciate was a bastard snatching me from my ancestral home and dragging me with no proper clothes into the North," Margaery snapped.
She so badly wanted to shift towards the fire, but she was bound and determined to stand tall and tough. Ramsay obviously thought her weak, she would prove him wrong.
But of course, Olenna Tyrell wasn't about to let that agreement happen. At least not on any terms but her own. So the agreement was made, but a time for delivering her to Winterfell had not been determined, and Olenna was not about to agree to one.
Ramsay Snow, wanting to be useful to his father and acknowledged as a true Bolton, decided to take action on his own. He took a small band of Bolton men and rode to Highgarden - he knew Margaery was there, after her day-long marriage to the late King Joffrey had ended. He kidnapped the Tyrell heiress and rode back to Winterfell. When he arrived, he dragged Margaery in with no amount of mercy or delicacy. He found his half-brother and father in a sitting room going over charts and battle strategies. Margaery, clad in a light dress with a keyhole opening at the front showing her cleavage and wrapping around her lower back, showing off the curves of her back and the lean muscle beneath her skin. Her skin was cold and covered in goosebumps, her lips slightly dark and a light shade of blue. But all the fire and anger was in Margaery's eyes. She wrenched herself free of Ramsay's grip and pulled her lips back to bare her teeth.
"Unhand me, mongrel!" she hissed.
"Dear father, brother - see what I've brought? We'll not have the Tyrells welching on their agreement any longer," Ramsay grinned. "The flower is a little frosty, but only because she did not appreciate my generosity of allowing her to ride in the carriage."
"What I did not appreciate was a bastard snatching me from my ancestral home and dragging me with no proper clothes into the North," Margaery snapped.
She so badly wanted to shift towards the fire, but she was bound and determined to stand tall and tough. Ramsay obviously thought her weak, she would prove him wrong.

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Hannibal then pulled her up and out of her seat. He pressed her body up against his so that she could feel the solid muscle beneath his thick clothing. His hand shifted into her long hair to tilt her head back so that they could look eye to eye. He moved in to speak lowly into her ear. His lips brushed over the soft skin. "I will wait until you are truly ready." He rumbled lowly.
His lips and teeth teased over her ear and along her jaw. He would genuinely wait, even if that meant waiting until their wedding night. She had been married before, so it was not necessary for her to prove her maiden hood.
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It would have been so easy to give into him just then. She nearly did. When he whispered and rumbled in her ear that way, Margaery moaned softly against his ear. She could have surrendered to him, right then.
But she wasn't going to make it easy on him. She wasn't going to give in and surrender her maidenhead. Partially because she thought it would be worth it and proper to wait, but partially because she was a little afraid.
Margaery leaned back and pressed a single finger to his lower lip, dragged it down, along his neck and pressed it against his chest. "Worth the wait. I promise." But that didn't stop her from leaning up and kissing him softly. Her tongue dragged over his lower lip and she suckled hard upon it, even letting her teeth pinch over it.
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He then took a step back to take her hand and kissed the back of it. "In that case I will bid you goodnight My Lady. I will knock four times in the morning for us to leave for our first hunt together." He said.
Her pup was waiting by the door quietly.
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"Good night, my Lord. I look forward to the morning," she smiled and turned, looking to the pup and whistling for her to come. "Come, Moanna."
The pup followed, a bit more pep in her step being given a name. Before Margaery closed the door she undid the clasps and buckles of her dress and let it fall to the floor. Giving Hannibal a brief glance of her bare backside once again before closing the door.
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The next morning, Hannibal roused himself early. He had prepared a small, but hardy breakfast for the pair of them and was dressed in dark black hunting leathers with fur linings. He had given the order to the young maid to fashion a dress in a similar style for Margaery. It would allow her freedom of movement, but would also keep her warm. There was also a pair of soft fur lined leather leggings to protect her legs from the saddle as they rode. There was a pair of leather boots for her feet, they should fit her quite well. The final touch were fur lined leather gloves to keep her hands warm. She would have a fur coat to wear about her shoulders with a hood on it. He strode to knock on her door firmly three times. He was fully dressed and ready and had her outfit lying on his bed.
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In the morning Moanna licked at Margaery's face. She giggled, but gently scolded the pup for waking her. It was only shortly thereafter that she heard Hannibal's knock. Margaery set Moanna on the floor and wrapped the furs tight about her - it showed off her slender figure, but also kept her covered. Margaery opened the door and smiled up to Hannibal.
"Good morning," she greeted him. Moanna toddled up and sat beside Margaery, her tail wagging and she yipped a soft greeting to Hannibal.
Margaery could smell breakfast and smiled at the scent of good food. "You've been hard at work I see," she chucked.
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He then looked up at Margaery as he motioned to the clothes set out. "The maids from yesterday made these specifically for you My Lady. They will indeed keep you warm and comfortable on our hunt." He began. "The food is still quite hot. You have time to get dressed before it is cool enough to eat." He said as he moved to sit with his back towards the bed and facing the fire. He was sitting where if she was at the foot of the bed, he could see her from the corner of his eye. He was curious if she would continue in her boldness.
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When he sat down she smirked to herself and dropped the fur she'd had wrapped around her. First she donned the leggings, but made sure to pull them on slowly, teasingly, she knew he was watching. Then came the boots and finally the dress. Margaery turned to Hannibal.
"My lord? Would you mind tying my laces at the back? I want to make sure they're secure," it wasn't a total lie. But in truth she just wanted him close. She wanted to feel his hands on her body again.
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He knew it was partially a game, and he was willing to play along now that he had more confidence that she was his.
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Margaery turned slowly to face him. She took a step back to let him see her fly, but not enough to put a great deal of space between them. "How do I look? Like a proper huntress of the Dreadfort?"
She longed for the day when Roose Bolton returned to the Dreadfort, and Ramsay with him.
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"I hope I'm able, I can't say as I've ever participated in a hunt before," Margaery admitted as she sheepishly took a plate. "Father never thought it proper for a lady."
She'd accompanied the men on hunts and had seen how they used the weapons, but she'd never wielded them.
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Once they had finished eating, he set his plate with scraps down for his pups to eat from. "Are you ready My Lady? I will assist you with your furs." He offered as he stood and moved to hold her fur cloak up. It was equally warm, but not quite as heavy as his own cloak.
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She followed his lead and set her scraps down for the pups. Moanna of course licked and nibbled at the scraps first, only letting her brothers at the plate when she was content.
"I'm ready, my Lord," she replied, straightening her dress. She moved to stand beside him and let him put her furs on. She was slowly getting used to wearing more clothes than she usually did in Highgarden. The furs felt luxurious and soft as her silks against her skin.
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He led her down to the open courtyard where five of his best wolves were waiting along with two horses. He had spotted his brother out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored the other for the moment.
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Ramsay, however, unsettled her. The way he looked at her as she walked out into the courtyard with Hannibal, there was nothing good about it. He approached them with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed before his chest.
"You can dress up a flower in furs and fine jewels, but that doesn't make it anything other than what it is," Ramsay sneered. "Lovely, frail, delicate...breakable."
Margaery pulled back her upper lip in disgust and stuck her nose in the air. "And changing a bastard's name doesn't make him anything other than a bastard."
Ramsay's eyes narrowed. Oh, he didn't like that. The glare melted into a smile at Hannibal. "Going hunting brother? Give me but a moment and I'll have my horse ready to join you!"
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Hannibal gave his brother a hard look. "If you best me in a fair spar I will allow you to tag along. The Maester will judge the victor." He said.
One of his guards removed his cloak as he was given a blunt long sword. One was offered to Ramsay as well. The Bolton men did not use shields when sparring. Hannibal was taller and stronger than his brother. Hannibal's men disarmed him and moved to disarm Ramsay as well.
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He stepped back and held his arms out from his body, giving a smile that was likely meant to be innocent, but came off more unsettling than ever to Margaery. "Don't you trust me?"
Margaery stepped back and let the wolves step between her and Ramsay and Hannibal. She bit her lower lip and felt her stomach turning - she knew though, there was no way Hannibal would lose.
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Hannibal gave a bow to his father before taking his fighting stance. It was both menacing and relaxed. He would wait for his brother to make the first attack. "You still have a blade on you that my men do not remove because of where you hide it. Why would I give you another sharp blade to fight dirty with?" He taunted.
A few of his guards moved to stand slightly in front of Margaery as well. In case that small blade went flying. There were also guards just around Margaery in general to keep her safe.
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Ramsay frowned, but bowed to his father all the same. He smirked when Hannibal mentioned his hidden blade. "Ah, guilty as charged. But what Bolton man wouldn't have an ace up his sleeve?" Ramsay smirked.
He dragged his blade along the ground and brought it up to tap against Hannibal's blade. A taunt. Then he brought the blade up and smacked the side of his blade against Hannibal's before stepping back and putting space between them to allow him to react.
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He allowed his blade to swing wide from the strike. He made no move closer, but did smirk. "I think my fair flower can strike harder." He said. Enraging his brother was best to cause him to charge.
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He frowned when Hannibal mocked him. His lips pulled back in anger and disgust. "She can, I'm sure. But she likely lacks the head for battle and strategy."
He brought down a barrage of slashes and strikes on Hannibal's blade, moving to push him back and gain some ground.
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Hannibal absorbed he blows and stood his ground firmly. A few of his counters landed across Ramsay's arms hard. Those hits would leave bruises on his brother, but not cause any more serious injury yet. He fully intended to break his brother's dominant hand. At his first opportunity he swung his blade hard and hit his target. There was a loud crunch when Ramsay's main fighting hand was broken in multiple places.
Hannibal would follow with multiple hard strike to his non dominant arm until there was another crunching sound. Hannibal strode forward and punched his brother hard enough to break his nose and send him toppling to the ground. He strode over and stopped on his chest to knock the wind out of him. Hannibal knelt down and pulled the hidden blade from Ramsay before towering over him as he held it in his hand. "Perhaps next time you will stick this in me brother." He said before handing he blade to one of his guards.
He collected his real sword and tossed the blunt blade to a young squire. He put his cloak back on and offered Margaey a hand to assist her up and into the saddle. "I do apologize for the slight delay My Lady." He said before swinging into his own saddle. He turned his horse and led her out towards the woods. The wolves followed as did four guards. There were wildlings in the woods to worry about.
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Ramsay was ruthless, but Hannibal was more skilled. He made an attempt to knock his brother to the ground that ultimately resulted in him being punched and dropping to the ground. Ramsay coughed up his own blood as Hannibal taunted him with his own blade. "Sooner than you think..." he muttered before Hannibal got too far - but too softly for anyone else to hear.
Margaery smiled when Hannibal emerged the Victor, and she again tilted her head to Roose Bolton. "You've chosen a good, strong husband for me, Lord Bolton. You honor me."
Then Hannibal approached and Margaery smiled. She took his hand and slid gracefully into her saddle. "No need. You did well, My Lord." She praised as she took the reins. If nothing else, Margaery was a skilled rider, so she wasn't completely hopeless on a hunt. She kicked her horse and followed after Hannibal, the Bolton banners before and behind them, carried by guards.
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Hannibal gave Margaery a brief nod as they rode off into the forest. He came to a stop only a few miles from the keep. They were still within sight of the stone walls when he dismounted and held his hands out to assist her out of the saddle. "You ride very well My Lady." He complemented as he set her on her feet in the packed snow.
"Have you ever been taught how to shoot an arrow My Lady?" He asked.
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