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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Mace did look flustered, but he kept his focus on his plate. Olenna looked to Mace with a sour expression. "Well if you've something to say, oaf, say it."
Mace cast a scathing glare to Hannibal and pouted his lip a bit. Margaery did nothing but drink her tea.
"You've a lot of nerve insulting southern men when it was the efforts of a southern man who brought you your wife," Mace snapped.
Margaery and Olenna exchanged looks. If the shoe fits, was the message of the silent expression they exchanged.
"Who precisely are you to say that you're so good at bedding women as to preach the craft to men of the south?" Mace continued, emboldened by his own words. "Have you bedded so many women that I should be concerned for my daughter's health?"
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He took a calm sip of his tea and did not show any reaction to what Margaery was doing. Although, if she was not careful her sharp Grandmother would likely figure out what she was up to.
Hannibal gave a slight bow to Mace after the first comment. "Indeed it was, and for that I am very grateful." He said.
Hannibal listened calmly and slowly set his cup of tea down. He had half a pomegranate sitting on his plate. He picked it up to scoop a few seeds from the fruit with his tongue as Mace finished his half hearted accusations. His dark eyes slowly turned to look Lord Tyrell directly in the eyes. "Men of the North do not throw their seed to the wind to create multiple Bastards. I am from a strong house and have never placed myself in a position to risk having a bastard, nor will I ever. My Lady has nothing to fear on that account." He said to end that debate.
A slow, condescending smile crossed his face before he continued. "Three mattresses would suggest I am quite skilled. Although, I am quite certain you heard when those were ruined last night." He said, referring to how loud Margaery was for many of her powerful orgasms.
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But, with all the poise her grandmother had taught her, Margaery took a sip from her tea, and waited right as her father's face turned red in anger before speaking to cut him off.
"Four," she corrected Hannibal softly. "Four mattresses, darling."
All the color drained out of Mace's face, and Olenna simply chuckled before taking another slow sip of her own tea.
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He watched her blush and stored that for when they were in private. He was enjoying the verbal spar with Mace; however, he turned to look at Margaery when she spoke. He gave her a wink that only she could see. "You are correct my dear. It was four." He said, but nothing more to end the discussion.
Roose looked bored of the entire conversation before turning to his son's new bride. "I have received ravens from Winterfell informing me of a storm that has just recently passed through and that another storm seems to be building. We should begin moving back north soon. Any longer than three days risks us getting caught in a storm outside of Winterfell." He said.
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"Oh gods save you, Mace," Olenna snapped. "Do you really think I'd let my granddaughter marry a Bolton of all people if he was diseased? Besides, if you're so concerned about it, you might have voiced it before you agreed to arrange their marriage."
Margaery smiled to her grandmother before taking a bite of a sweet cake and sliding her fingers along the inseam of Hannibal's pants up just beneath his balls. She rubbed her fingers there for just a moment to tease him playfully before getting a slight glare from her grandmother. When Roose addressed her, Margaery turned her full attention to her father-in-law and nodded slowly.
"I'll defer to you, my lord," Margaery replied. "You know the storms of the North far better than I. If it is better we leave sooner than later, then it shall be as you say."
Olenna did not seem happy about that, but she sipped her tea all the same. "I'll not have you keep my Margaery all for yourselves up in the North - bring her back to me from time to time."
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He took a sip of his own tea before adding. "If our visits from the North are not common enough, you are always welcome to come and visit us in the North." He offered.
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She found that she very much enjoyed teasing him. Margaery wanted to see how far he'd go and allow her to push him. Gently she squeezed along his thigh.
"In the meantime, we can still enjoy what time we have left here, can we not?" she smiled. "You can't get fire plums like this in the North." Margaery took a fire plum from a plate and took a bite, sighing softly at the sweet, warm flesh of the fruit. "Have you ever had one, my love?" She held the plum up for Hannibal to take a bite.
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Hannibal watched her eat the fruit with curiosity. He took a bite of the offered fruit. "It is indeed quite good. Perhaps we can take some with us for the journey. I fear we cannot take too many though, they might not do well in the pantries of Winterfell." He said.
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"Indeed, we shall have to limit how many we take - they don't keep very well. I fear we shall only have them for the journey home," Margaery smiled. She then looked to her grandmother. "Will you excuse us, grandmother? If we're only to be here a short time, I wish to show my husband my ancestral home."
Olenna nodded her consent and dismissed them. Margaery smiled and stood up. "That is, if you are finished with breakfast, husband?"
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However, he was not going to play into her game so quickly either. He was gambling that he had more patience than his wife. He slowly sat down his tea cup to look up at her. "If you are quite satisfied. Then we can begin this tour you mentioned last night." He said.
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There was still more to this game. Just because they were leaving the table didn't mean that their game was over. Far from it.
"I've found the meal satisfying enough. But if you need more time, we can wait," Margaery teased, smirking down at him.
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He turned to Margaery and offered her his arm. He led her out into the hall before nodding for her to lead the way.
Olenna chuckled again before looking at her pathetic son. "You will be a grandfather in seven months at the rate those two are going."
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"You went a bit far with that, didn't you?" She leaned into him and kissed his jaw. "My poor father. You're so cruel to him, lover."
She stopped by the kitchens with Hannibal and had the staff assemble a picnic lunch for them. She then, of course, handed the basket to Hannibal and led him out to the gardens and orchards.
"I used to come out here when I was a girl and wanted some alone time, away from my brothers," Margaery looked up and smiled at the luscious fruits ripening in the trees.
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He waited patiently as the servants prepared their lunch. He took the basket without complaint and carried it easily. He kept their arms looped together as they wandered the gardens. He saw her looking up into the trees. "Would you like for me to pick you some fruit?"
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Margaery gained a wicked smirk and looked up to him. "That is, if you don't gorge yourself on my sweet juices first."
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"Well, her wrath shall crash down upon you, not I," she laughed. "After your explanation of your vigorous talents over breakfast, how ever is a southern lady like me to resist crying out my pleasure to the gods?"
Margaery gave him a playful smirk before turning her back to him and striding ahead to put distance between them. Daring him to catch her.
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As if to show how well she knew the territory, right as she finished speaking, Margaery ducked into a maze of grape vineyards. She knew the way by heart, and easily dipped out of sight within a matter of seconds. Margaery laughed playfully as she moved deeper into the vineyards to hide from Hannibal.
"Here's your challenge, my love! Catch me, if you can!" Margaery kicked off her shoes so as avoid leaving holes in the ground from the elevated heels and have a trail lead to her.
She could hide for days here and never ve discovered, if she so desired.
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She might think she had the advantage. However, her scent would give her away to him. He had found her path and made an educated guess as to where she was going. He was lying in wait for her to come by. He expected her to be looking behind her rather than in front of her. He would step out and wrap his arms around her firmly when she was within reach. He kissed her deeply. "I have found you." He rumbled lowly.
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Thinking herself victorious, she moved forward, straight into his grasp. Margaery cried out in surprise, but was soon laughing even as he kissed her. She tipped her her head and deepened the kiss before she pressed more into him.
"Mmmm...so you have, well done my love," she plucked another couple of grapes, popping one into her mouth and offering him the second.
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He slipped his head beneath her skirts and kissed his way forward before using his sharp teeth to get past any final fabric barrier. He then licked over her folds before dipping his tongue within her as if he were scooping out pomegranate seeds. He slurped and suckled on her folds as he continued this action.
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"Mmmm, you're an impatient, ravenous man, husband," she chuckled. He would find no small clothes or petticoats beneath her gown to impede his way to her folds. As his tongue began exploring her, Margaery gasped and writhed against him. Her thighs squeezed gently around his head as she cried out, breathing heavily.
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