randomosity | [For Hannibal] Alliance of Fire

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[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.

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Hannibal was proud that his children watched without flinching. "Now, first we must skin the rabbit to get to the tasty meat we can use to make dinner." He said. "The first rule is that knives are not to be played with. Always treat them with reverence and respect. You use them to honor something that died honorably to feed you, or to teach an enemy a lesson in respect or fear." He explain with a very grave tone in his voice. He did not want them to think of any weapon as a toy like his half brother did.

Margaery overheard the lesson and smiled when the first rule Hannibal taught them was not to play with knives. That they were tools only. She smiled and hugged their youngest close to her chest.

"And for now, you may only use them when Mama or Papa are around to supervise," Margaery added.

"Yes Papa," Reina nodded. "Yes Mama."

"We'll be careful," Rhys added. "Promise."

Hannibal nodded when they seemed to understand this first (and most important lesson). "Now, to skin the creature, you begin by choosing the correct blade. This is delicate work and you must use a thin blade to accomplish your task. You begin by making a long slice from directly under the chin all the way down to the tip of it's tail. This way once we are ready to peel the skin off, we will have one nice piece that we can use to make something useful like a hat or gloves." He explained.

The twins nodded in understanding, listening carefully to their father's instructions.

"Gloves!" Rhys proclaimed. "Gloves for mama!"

Reina echoed his proclamation. Margaery laughed softly and patted them each on the head. "So generous my darlings. Thank you for thinking of me."

Hannibal smiled as he heard their comment. "Very good, now. I want you to watch carefully as I remove the skin. Next time it will be your turn to try. His time you will watch and learn." He said. He then pressed the knife into the fur right at the lower jaw. He then sliced very slowly and methodically as he began to peel the fur off of the rabbit and show them the process. He went very slow and explained each of his cuts to them so that they could learn and understand.

The fact that the twins would be watching gave Margaery comfort. Rhys and Reina both watched and got a bit closer to watch their father's precise movements. Margaery had to admit that they would need these flaying skills if they were to be proper Bolton heirs.

When Hannibal had finished, the twins nodded but looked bored. Margaery grew stern with them.

"Rhys, Reina, pay attention, this is important," she lightly scolded them. "What is the motto of House Bolton?"

"Our blades are sharp," they both recited in unison.

"That's right, you must know these things your Papa teaches you so that you can handle those sharp blades, understand?" Margaery looked to both children.

"Yes Mama," they both replied.

Hannibal noted their boredom. "We will discuss how to remove the meat on a different day. Today, we will only go over how to prepare the fur so that we can make Mama a pair of gloves." He said. He put the knife down and picked up a tool that would clean off the inside layer of skin. "Next we need to make certain their skin is cleaned off on the inside so that we can dry it in the sun before making the gloves." He showed how to clean the skin and gave them each a turn. It was not a sharp tool, and it was very simple to use.

Reina and Rhys were only too eager to learn how to use the tool, and actually handle it themselves. Once they were done, they both grinned up to Hannibal.

"All clean Papa!" Reina chirped.

"How long til it's dry?" Asked Rhys.

Hannibal smiled and nodded proudly. "Well done! Now, it will take two days to dry. Let us go upstairs and wash up while the cooks tend to dinner. Reina, are you ready to get your hair washed?" He asked her.

Rhys was disappointed. He didn't want to wait two whole days. He pouted, but nodded when his father told them to wash up. Reina clapped her hands happily when Hannibal mentioned her hair washing.

"Ready, Papa!!" She exclaimed.

Hannibal chuckled at his daughter and gave his son a stern look. "The best things take time to make my son." He said as they all went inside. Hannibal carefully wash Reina's hair and let Margaery begin braiding it. He then focused on Rhys and how to slick his hair back to show his streak of silver.

Rhys nodded at his father's words. Reina settled near a basin and let Hannibal wash her hair. She smiled and let her father methodically wash her hair. Once he was done, Margaery traded with Hannibal, letting him hold Aenar while she braided Reina's hair and wove her hair in such a way that her silver hairs would show.

"So pretty little love," Margaery kissed her cheek before turning to Hannibal. "Papa, perhaps you could wash my hair after dinner?" She gave him such a look to convey to him that she wanted to discuss more about their discovery.

Hannibal smiled as he let the children speak. He then looked to Margaery and smiled. "Yes I can." He said.

Rhys giggled and gave his sister a wink.

Reina winked back and fiddles with the edge of her skirts. "Papa play..."

Margaery smiled and kissed him before Aenar began to cry. "We should all probably eat soon."

Hannibal nodded in agreement. "Indeed we should. Dinner should be prepared by now. You two go and dress for dinner." He said.

Rhys and Reina held hands and went to obey their father. Margaery gave Hannibal a slight look of concern, but said nothing. She day down and feed a breast to feed Aenar, so that they could eat their own dinner without him fussing.

Hannibal turned to st next to her once they children were out of the room. He slid an arm around her trim waist and kissed her temple tenderly.

A messenger knocked on the door and Hannibal moved to take the message. He opened it and read. He looked up at Margaery as he considered what he had read. "It seems that my niece has gotten herself into a tight spot. She claims control of Mereen, but there is a rebellion that is causing quite a problem within her city." He said. He contemplated his thoughts for a moment more. "I am considering sending a raven to offer supplies and potential aid should she require it. The report mentions that she has been searching for a navy with limited results. We have a meeting with the remaining Greyjoy who desires her father's throne, but needs to displace her uncle first. I could potentially send her as a personal messenger and aide, but without sending a valuable ally that I would be sad to see killed." He explained before he looked to her. "What is your opinion on the matter? I know you do not trust her. She is a young girl who has recently become a mother Inhave been told. I do not think that she would be foolish enough to mount an attack here. Especially if I reach out first to form a peaceful relationship." He said.

Margaery listened carefully as he explained what the messenger had brought. Her expression turned stern as she listened, the very visage of a queen from head to toe. She thought for a moment when he asked her opinion, their youngest still feeding from her breast.

"...hmm..." she looked to Hannibal. "My love, you have more wisdom than most, but with her youth, you forget what she is: A Targaryen woman. You sit on her throne, and even if we verify your lineage, she will not yield. She is a direct, legitimate descendant of the High Valyrians and her throne was stolen from her. You underestimate her, I think."

She still considered his plan, and sighed slightly. "It may behoove you to send her aid, in the eyes of the people you may appear merciful. But consider how few are still loyal to the dragon banner. You asked them to pledge their allegiance to the Bolton banner. If the flayed man aids the red dragon, people may think you conspire to put them in chains of fear once again under the Targaryen banner by restoring Daenerys."

Hannibal listened as she spoke. She had proven herself worthy of his trust where he allowed her to speak freely when he asked her a question. He gave a few nods as she spoke. She did have a valid point about not underestimating her, she would still be a woman scorned. He gave a nod of agreement before speaking.

"You make an excellent point. I had not taken that into account." He began before pausing. "However, she has gotten married and had a child in Mereen. She has also grown up entirely in Essos. Would those possibly pull at her heart to long to be there equally as much as returning here?" He asked. He knew that Margaery would have a better opinion on the matter.

He considered her other words. "We will have to deal with that regardless of my actions towards my niece. As soon as our children's traces of the Targaryn line are known by the people." He pointed out.

Margaery considered his point, and a slow smile curved across her lips - not necessarily a happy one, more cruel than anything.

"It might. There's a chance," she replied. "But then there is also the chance that she might also become more protective of her heritage and what belongs to her."

Margaery took Aenar from her breast and lifted him so Hannibal could see him. "Our son was born in High Garden. Now, if you were told that you could not bring him home to the Dreadfort, would you be content with his home being the place of his birth?"

She set the boy down and put him to her shoulder to burp him. "When a woman becomes a mother, her base instincts come out. I will protect my children at any cost, I will give them better than I had. I will give them what I think is their birthright."

Margaery smiled again, this time more crafty than cruel. "And consider that I am a Tyrell. We are generally less stubborn and hot-headed as the Targaryens. She will likely prove more driven than even I." She trusted Hannibal, in private she could admit this.

Hannibal took her words as the warning they were. He rubbed his short beard as he thought about an option. He turned to her. "An open threat against her family unit would be fool hardy. However, what if there were plants within the city of citizens who will make threats of she does set foot here. Have enough citizens making threats and showing how they could hurt her and her family. Would that make her less inclined? She is fighting for control of her current home for a second time. Do you think she would risk her family to do it a third time?" He asked. Perhaps getting within her head would be better.

Margaery considered the option and nodded slowly. "A better option, if you ask me. But how will you prepare your plan if she decides to send her own agents in under the cover of night to kill such suspected conspirators?" She asked. "But of our options, I think that's the best one."

Hannibal's eyes dance with dark glee at her question. "I will subvert my latest class of people who desire to be my elite assassins. Their jobs will be to stir up some people and keep themselves alive. If they are killed by her secret agents, then they won't be worthy of becoming one of my assassins." He said simply. They would play mind games with his niece. He doubted anyone in Essos had the capability to play such games. He wanted to build doubt in her mind that King's Landing would be worth the effort of a battle. Especially one where she would loose many she brought with her. He intended to infect any Dothraki who set foot in King's Landing with a simple ailment that everyone in King's Landing would suffer through and then survive. He doubted the Dothraki would be able to cope with it. It would demolish any calvary she brought in days. Not to mention how superstitious they were. It would make them uneasy of living in the city and they would beg her to return home. He would offer remedies to help stop the illness, but as soon as a dozen Dothraki died (even with aid) their superstitious nature would get the better of her.

Margaery smiled, and felt a little more at ease. She nodded slowly and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "My brilliant lover. You always have a solution for what could trouble our family." She held the baby up for him to take and hold for a few minutes before dinner.

Hannibal proudly took his son before going down with his family to enjoy the nice rabbit stew provided by his oldest children.

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