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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Margaery adopted a hurt expression and looked up at him. "He gripped my legs so tightly my love...truly he hurt me..." she whimpered. It was partially true, but mostly she wanted to egg Hannibal on more.
She wanted to see the true Bolton fury.
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"I want to hear what you plan on doing to him," she replied, pressing into him with her breasts still exposed. Her nipples were leaking a little from breastfeeding the babies. "Tell me. Give me details. He hurt your wife, Lord Bolton. He intended to take her and drive his cock into the pussy that was intended only for you. What do you plan to do about it?"
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Again she repeated more words to feed Hannibal's anger. "He walked into this castle, coveting your wife. I remember how he looked at me in King's Landing; there was nothing but sin and lust in those eyes. He wants what is yours. Are you planning on letting him think he can take it?"
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"That's if I let you," she countered, slipping from his grip and stepping away. "Besides - if you fucked me now, Bronn would hear you for certain, and know that he's been tricked."
As Margaery spoke, she undid the clasps and ties of her gown and let it fall to the floor. She was nude, save for a single strip of black cloth tied round her thigh. Margaery undid the tie and brought it up to her lips, taking the cloth between her teeth.
"You can exercise that Bolton self-control, my lord," she offered him a choice. "Or you can tie this round my mouth to stifle my cries and fuck me senseless. The choice is yours."
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He strode after her and kissed her deeply as he secured the fabric across her mouth. He freed his cock and moved to rub his length over her folds. He then slid into her no begn to fil her deep and relentlessly as his hands groped and squeezed her breasts.
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As he freed his cock and she felt it brush against her folds, Margaery gave a soft moan - muffled by the cloth gag. Then he slid inside her and fucked her with reckless abandon. There was no hope then - she felt milk leaking slowly from her sensitive nipples as he played with her breasts, and felt her own fluids drip down his shaft and over her thighs, making the inside glisten. She moaned and cried out for him, but could form no words and was muffled by the gag. Her teeth began to grind against the gag, her only recourse.
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