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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He slowly stood to loom over her and stood plenty close enough for her to feel his body heat, but he did not touch. "I do not forget such things." He rumbled lowly.
He took a few steps back from her and slowly began to remove his clothing down to just his leather pants. He was wearing just a simple piece of cloth to keep himself protected, one that could be removed with a tug if he so desired. He looked at her with dark desire before he brought out three practice dummies. He began to practice his hand to hand combat and was certain to dismember each dummy one by one. There was wine within them to act as blood, but it was clearly thinner than blood.
He intended to exercise and show off his strength to her. In the middle of his routine, he picked up a peach. He tenderly prodded at the weak point to slip two fingers into the heart of the fruit to dig out the pit and toss it aside. He then ate the sweet fruit slowly. He held up a banana towards Margaery. "Would you like a taste?" He asked with a playful light in his eyes.
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But she wanted to win.
She watched him as he sparred with his practice dummies and her body grew warm. She moaned softly and watched as he ate so erotica lay from the fruit. Margaery snubbed the banana and rang a small bell. A servant came and brought a small bowl of fire plums, then quickly left. Margaery ran her tongue over the plum's skin and smirked up to Hannibal before taking a bite.
"I prefer my fire plums," she replied.
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He smirked and watched as she ate her fire plums. He raised an eyebrow slowly at that. "The last time you desired these, you were with child." He pointed out.
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"Was I? Or was it just before you planted our twins within me?" She teased, leaning back and appreciating the muscular form of his body. "You should keep fighting for me, I enjoy it."
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"As if there was any doubt that you could," she replied.
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Her eyes locked on him and she rolled her hips to make the stones press into her more. "Ooh...how tempting indeed," she leaned forward and slipped her tongue into the fruit, pulling out some of the seeds and eating them slowly.
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"This costume of yours," she glanced to the leather outfit. "It's rather satisfying as a substitute while I wait for you."
Margaery rolled her folds again, sending shocks through her body. "Tell me darling, do you remember my first night in Winterfell? How I found you the next morning with your clothes partially off and your muscles bulging?" He had scolded her for not ringing the bell first, but she had enjoyed the view.
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His eyes darken with desire at her question. "I do indeed. Tell me, is the sight more arousig now or was it then?" He asked. It would just take the slightest movement from her for her to initiate contact and her time to stop.
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Her dark eyes raked over his body as she considered his question. "You were...almost like a forbidden temptation then. I was still refusing you by that point, remember?"
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