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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The wolves went straight to their kennel. Roose Bolton had heard the wolves and was curious what they had captured. He saw that the rose carried the trophy. Perhaps the thorns were more lethal than many assumed.
Hannibal gave a bow to his father. "You have picked a fine bride for me father. She is a natural huntress that is fearless." He said as genuine praise.
Roose gave a nod before looking at Margaery. "Well hit My Lady." He said flatly before turning to return indoors.
Hannibal dismounted and reached up to assist her out of the saddle as well. "That was high praise from him." He assured her.
Hannibal hoped hoped his brother was watching this. His men removed the body. "What would you like as a trophy from your prize My Lady?"
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Margaery tipped her head to acknowledge Roose's compliment. "Thank you my Lord, your son taught me well."
After a moment Ramsay sneered. "Hardly sporting, brother, putting your kill on the lady's horse!"
Margaery narrowed her eyes at Ramsay. "Difficult though it may be for you, I did indeed kill this beast on my first hunt. I couldn't very well return empty handed, now could I? What sort of hunter returns from a hunt with no prey?" Margaery smirked.
Ramsay pouted, and growled some curse before stomping off. Margaery smirked, pleased with herself as she moved to slide from the saddle with Hannibal's help. She thought on his question a moment. "The teeth and claws - and anything else you yourself deem useful, my Lord."
Margaery glanced to the cat, then to Hannibal. "Forgive me but...might we visit the crypts now? The Stark land was kind enough to give me good game, I should like to pay the previous residents proper thanks."
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Hannibal heard her request and bowed his head in agreement. He glanced up at the sky and noted the clouds forming above them. "We can indeed My Lady. We should not longer there for long. It looks like the storm will strike sooner than later." He noted.
He took a small leather pouch to tuck into his belt along with two small flasks of ale. He then offered his arm to lead her to the crypts.
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"Thank you for teaching me," she smiled up to him. "I'm very glad that I was able to take down such formidable prey, but I would not have been able to do so without your help."
The crypts were dark and dank, and Margaery very much felt like an intruder, as though all the eyes of the Kings of Winterfell were glaring at her.
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He picked up a torch at the entrance to the crypts. He led her slowly through the maze of the crypts. He took her to the most recent tomb and lit it up. "This was the sister of Ned Stark. She is the last Stark that was properly buried." He explained.
He bowed his head in respect to her stone likeness. "Soon those that have followed you will be where they belong." He said to the stone. He had sent agents out secretly to recover the bodies and store them at Harrenhal in a secret crypt he had set up while they were camped their earlier in the war. He assumed that Bran and Rickon Stark were still alive since he had not located their bodies. Nor had he found Aria Stark's body.
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After a few moments she released his arm and moved deeper into the caverns. Her dark eyes swept through the stone faces. Margaery pulled the fur cloak tighter about her as the caverns grew colder.
"Even in Highgarden we have nothing like this..." she whispered.
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He would remain close to her, there was nothing living down here. Even his wolves were wary of coming down here.
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Margaery felt cold and unsettled here. She looked up to Hannibal, rubbing her arms for warmth. "Shall we leave the deceased to rest in peace?"
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He could hear the air shifting beyond the caverns and noted a chill in the air. He hoped the storm wasn't too strong so that they could move into the castle safely.
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He could not see a clear path, but his men knew they were here. They would create a chain of bodies to guide the way to the main hall. It would take them a bit of time to do so carefully. He moved to sit her in a covered alcove near the main entrance. He produced one of the flasks. "Would you care for some ale My Lady? My men will have a path for us to follow soon. We will not be here for long." He promised her.
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This was one aspect of the North that she could live without.
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She heard the footsteps and tensed against Hannibal. In her logical mind, she knew it was just the guards coming for them. But deep inside she feared that it would be Ramsay's sneering face that broke through the wall of white. So she kept her face buried. Margaery wasn't aware, but she wrapped her fingers around his cloak and kept him close.
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He carried her and followed the trail of soldiers to the main hall. The ones on the end placed a hand on his shoulder and slowly began to trail inside behind him. It took nearly five minutes to get into the main keep. Hannibal gave a nod to his men before stepping inside and striding quickly towards the stairs. He would carry Margaery all the way to their separate chambers in the tall tower where there was a fire roaring in both of their chambers. He set her on her feet once they were within his chambers. She was right in front of her chair before the fire. "Here you are My Lady. Let me know if you still feel a chill." He said.
He was not in the least bit winded from carrying her such a distance. He was exceedingly strong.
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"Did you...carry me all that way?" She asked. His strength certainly was impressive.
The pups turned in circles as they entered, and Moanna toddled up to Margaery and yipped playfully, sitting at her feet and squirming in excitement until Margaery reached down and stroked her soft little ears.
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He gave a slight smile at her question. "I did indeed. You are quite light My Lady." He said before frowning slightly. "Are you still cold?" He asked her.
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She felt weak and silly, still shivering from only being outside a short while. "You must think me foolish indeed, to still be this cold," she looked to the fire and another shiver rolled through her.
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The fabric would begin to fall off of her body from the weight of the water alone. She would have to take the pants off on her own.
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Margaery looked to Hannibal with a suspicious smile. But she let him begin to undress her. The wet dress fell in a wet heap at her feet, and Margaery reached to peel off her wet pants. She faced forward though, keeping her front hidden from his view and glanced over her shoulder.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you had some control over the weather in an attempt to get me in this position, naked in your bed," she teased, covering herself with her hands and sliding into bed, pulling the sheets up over her.
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He moved to lay down on top of the covers next to her. "If you are still cold the only thing more I can offer is to join you beneath the covers. If that is necessary, it would be best if I were bare as well. However, I can keep my small clothes on if that would make you more comfortable." He said. He gave a whistle for the pups to come up on the bed and curl up around them for added warmth. Even Moanna was atop the bed.
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She found herself feeling jealous, but she'd been married before too, so she had little room to argue.
She was warmer, but she was still shivering. Moanna cuddled closer against Margaery's ribs and curled up beside her. Margaery leaned in closer, enjoying the warmth as it was for now.
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But she settled in the blankets and nodded slowly. Still a shiver rolled through her body. "It's warmer, yes, but there's still a chill I can't seem to escape."
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He frowned slightly when she said that she was still cool. He got up and removed everything except for his small clothes. He slipped beneath the covers and moved next to Margaery. "Come close to me. I promise you will grow warmer." He said. He was bracing himself for her soft flesh to be pressed against him. He would be working very diligently to not grow too aroused, it would be a difficult task.
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