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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When he finally slammed into her, sending that final shockwave up through her body Margaery screamed out loud as her core suddenly burst in a rush of carnal delight. All the tension built inside her had released and her fluids burst from her core to mix with his.
As the warmth of his release filled her up, Margaery moaned aloud and fell back against the bed. She breathed heavily, catching her breath after all that.
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His cock was still hard. He had not been lying to her when he said he could do two rounds rapidly with a brief rest between. His hand pet through her curly locks slowly. "I think I will do that regularly. You seemed to enjoy it greatly." He said.
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Then her expression turned a bit more serious. Margaery looked to him with her doe eyes and brought both hands to his chest. "Tell me, husband. It's true we are wed, but...do you truly care for me?" She asked. "That is, do you love me?"
He had given her gifts, promised her a throne. But were those promises for an alliance? Or was there something more?
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"Margaery, it is true that this Union was originally set for political reasons. However, from the moment you stood your ground before my brother I felt a genuine desire for you. That desire has grown into love." He said genuinely meaning it.
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"You mean it?" She smiled. Even before he could answer, Margaery kissed him softly and pressed her body tight against his. It was no trick for her to realize that she had fallen for him long before.
When she had realized it, she wasn't sure. When he promised her the throne? When he or his brother in his place? When she'd nearly frozen to death? All were likely catalyst events for Margaery's love.
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"Have no doubt in your mind of my true feelings for you. I truly will protect you at whatever cost and I will be the strong pillar by your side whenever you need it." He promised her.
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"Then there is no one in the Seven Kingdoms who will be able to stand against us," she smirked. "I love you too."
And soon the entire realm would belong to them both.
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"Now to make an heir to solidify our supremacy." He rumbled lowly as he stirred his cock within her.
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"And I the perfect husband," she actually looked forward to seeing the Bolton banner fly over the Red Keep. Margaery laughed softly when he mentioned an heir. "So soon you wish to impregnate me? You will be limited in how you are able to enjoy me if my belly is full with your child."
But she too was anxious to be pregnant. She wanted to carry his child and give him a proper heir. One Ramsay could never touch nor even see, if she had her way.
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Margaery clenched her pelvic muscles so that her core squeezed him nice and tight. Letting her walls clench their wet hear all around his cock. "We want to be thorough in our efforts, do we not?" She chuckled.
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She felt her body tightening and tensing, as taut as a bowstring. Margaery gasped and cried out loud. "Hannibal! I'm....I'm so close, so close, don't stop!"
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He had felt liquid pooling around where he sat from their combined release. He continued to hold her close. "We seem to have made a mess of this bed as well. Shall we go back across the hall?" He asked with amusement.
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She gasped and breathed heavily as he orgasm ebbed. "Gods..." she whispered, her hair splayed in brunette curls all around her. Margaery laughed at his suggestion and nuzzled him playfully. "You'll really put the servants to work tonight, my love."
****
When morning came, they were back in the room they had started their wedding night in. Margaery had risen slowly, kissing Hannibal softly to wake him. "Love, it's morning. Grandmother will be expecting us for breakfast," she whispered, gently caressing over his chest and kissing him again.
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He chuckled as he pulled her atop him and kissed her deeply. "We are up early. When is breakfast here in Highgarden?" He asked. He could take care of this easily if she desired to go to breakfast now.
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"Whenever grandmother commands it," Margaery smiled before rubbing over his length. "Come now, love - breakfast shouldn't take long, and I'd love to see how long you're able to resist taking me."
It was a dare, and before he could make her stay, Margaery stood up and selected a gown from the closet to wear to breakfast. As with most Highgarden fashion, it was rather low-cut and had an open back to show off her slender body.
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He dressed in the northern fashion. However, with the exception of his trousers, the fabric was thinner material to not be so overbearing my hot this far south. He brushed his hand over her exposed back as he leaned in to nibble on her ear and neck. "If you were to wear something like this on our chambers at Winterfell I would greatly enjoy it." He said lowly. Their chambers were naturally heated by the hot springs and were considerably warmer than the rest of the castle.
Once they were both dressed, he offered his arm and led her to the table in the gardens for breakfast. Hannibal walked with his normal, confident stride and did not seem the least bit tired from the night before. He gave a bow to the Tyrell's gathered there. "Good morning." He greeted cordially.
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"If it would please you, then I will most certainly wear it in Winterfell," she smiled before kissing him again and taking his arm.
Olenna sat at the table with Mace and Roose Bolton. She nibbled absently at a piece of melon brought on a fruit platter. Margaery smiled and moved to sit across from her grandmother, who tilted a brow at them both.
"Good morning indeed," Olenna sipped her tea. "You two seem refreshed. Tell me, young lord Hannibal, what is the sigil of house Bolton?"
Margaery tilted a brow as she set her napkin in her lap. She knew very well that her grandmother knew all the house sigils. She most certainly knew that house Bolton had the flayed man as their sigil.
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He knew the question had a purpose, but chose to answer anyway. "Our houses' digit is that of a flayed man crucified upside down My Lady." He answered as his hand rested atop Margaery's.
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"Grandmother!" Margaery blushed.
"Well child, it's the truth! Once there were days that you consummated the marriage once and that was that," Olenna sipped her tea. "Really, now. The pair of you ruined four perfectly good mattresses in a single night."
Margaery blushed darker, but couldn't help smirking and looking to Hannibal as she nibbled on a strawberry.
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"Then perhaps the men of the south should visit the north to build up their vitality. A Northman who cannot bed his wife more than once on his wedding night is considered weak or impotent." He said. "From my experience the women from the South have the same stamina as the men of the north. Perhaps I could host some of the young men from the south to teach them how to fully fulfill their duties on their wedding night by building up their stamina." He said.
Roose gave Hannibal a look, but he did not seem upset. He agreed that men from the south were soft.
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Olenna blinked at Hannibal for a minute. Then she began laughing. "You think so? Well you're quite right on that note! Men of the South are terribly comfortable and altogether too soft for my liking. They could stand to learn a thing or two from the strong Northern houses."
Mace didn't look happy to hear that, but he didn't protest his mother's remarks. Margaery took a large strawberry in hand and offered it up to feed it to Hannibal.
"I for one hope you merely jest, husband. I am not thrilled of the idea of being a visual aid for men of the South to use for notes. Nor am I keen on you taking another woman for similar purposes," Margaery teased.
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Olenna snorted and took a slow sip from her tea. "Careful now, there is such a thing as speaking too much on these matters at the breakfast table."
"Apologies, grandmother," Margaery took a bite of salted pork and a buttery biscuit.
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