Chapter 12
The hunting party rode out a few miles from Winterfell, but still within sight of the high walls.
Hannibal slowed his horse to a stop and dismounted. Margaery slowed her horse right when Hannibal did to match his pace. Hannibal held his hands out to assist Margaery off of her own mount.
"You ride very well, My Lady," he praised. "Have you ever had the opportunity to learn how to shoot an arrow?"
Margaery took his hand and slid from the saddle with grace. "Thank you, My Lord. Highborn ladies can hardly be terrible riders now can they?" His second question was met with a shy smile. "No, though I've observed my brothers being taught. Joffrey taught me how to hold a crossbow but…he's hardly a credible source, I'd say. I think I understand the core concept, at the very least."
Hannibal chuckled at her answer. "We don't use crossbows whilst hunting. That takes half the sport out of the hunt."
As she stood in the snow, Margaery was amazed at how she hardly felt the cold through her thick boots and leggings. Then as snow began to flutter from the heavens upon them, Margaery looked up and smiled, the white snowflakes a sharp contrast to her auburn hair.
Hannibal smiled when he saw her enjoy the moment in the snow. He waved to a guard and a longbow was brought forward. Hannibal pointed to a nearby tree. "Watch carefully, My Lady. First you must make certain that you are balanced with your feet. Pull back on the string slowly and steadily. Rest the string against your cheek. The most important rule is to take a deep breath in and let go of the string as you breathe out."
Hannibal then demonstrated for Margaery, following each step as he had described it, and struck the heart of the tree at about the height of a man's heart. Margaery's eyes locked on his movements. She jumped slightly when he loosed the arrow, surprised by how accurate his aim was. Hannibal was a very good shot.
Hannibal motioned for the guard to bring forward a second bow that was made for her height. He took the shorter bow and handed it to Margaery. Hannibal shifted to stand behind her and was prepared to assist her if she requested it.
Margaery smiled and stepped up to take the bow. She held it for a moment to take into account the weight of the weapon. Margaery then stepped up to where Hannibal had fired from and took an arrow to notch it into the bowstring. As instructed, she balanced herself with her feet apart before pulling back on the string and lifting the bow. She brought the string back to touch over her cheek. Her dark eyes locked on the portion of the tree just beneath Hannibal's arrow. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. Margaery re-aimed and focused her eyes before releasing the arrow as she exhaled. Her arrow hit just below Hannibal's. She grinned from ear to ear, delighted at her results.
Hannibal watched as Margaery took her stance. The bow seemed to be the perfect fit for her. It seemed many things that were his mother's were fit perfectly for his wife-to-be. He saw her take aim and found himself impressed with her quick adjustment. He knew where the arrow would strike as soon as she loosed it so smoothly. There was approval in his eyes as he looked at her, a smirk of pride tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Are you certain you have never hunted before My Lady?" Hannibal asked as he handed her another arrow. "See if you can strike just above my arrow." If she could be accurate two times in a row, then she was indeed a natural huntress.
Margaery beamed when she felt Hannibal look upon her in praise. She eagerly took the arrow from him and smiled. "I swear that was the first arrow I've ever loosed, My Lord," she chuckled. "I take it I did well?"
Hannibal chuckled at her statement. "That is yet to be seen My Lady. Fire your second arrow."
Margaery adjusted her stance again. She brought the arrow up as she had before, bringing the bowstring and flight to her cheek. She focused just above Hannibal's arrow. Again she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, opened them again and loosed the arrow. It landed not quite in line with the other two, but it was only off by about an inch. The arrow still hit the tree above the arrow that Hannibal had shot.
Hannibal watched silently as Margaery took her second shot. He stepped closer to her so that she could feel how close he was. "I should be cautious of how well I teach you. You are indeed a natural huntress My Lady. You might just best me one day with enough training. I daresay my brother will be in quite a bit of danger now that you know how to shoot. He will never suspect you of being as accurate as you are."
Margaery smiled and tilted a brow at him. "I doubt your brother would attack me from far away – if he were to attack me, he'd try to get nice and close. He's more likely to poison me or put a knife in my belly," suddenly the details of the Red Wedding reappeared in her mind - at least how they had been described to her. How Robb Stark's wife had been stabbed brutally over and over again, with a baby in her belly. Margaery looked distressed for the briefest moment, then took a deep breath and brought herself back to the present.
Hannibal saw how her face changed for a moment. He could not tell if it was a concern of something happening in the future, or a dark memory from the past. He waited to see if she would come back to herself or not. When she did, he picked up two arrows. He kept one for himself and passed one to her. Hannibal gave a series of whistles and the wolves went off into the brush to flush out some prey.
"Let us see who can kill the first rabbit. The wolves will drive them towards us," he said. Hannibal would give Margaery the first opportunity to fire her arrow. He was curious if she would be able to target a quick rabbit well enough to kill it. The wolves were trained not to be too close to the creatures they were driving towards their master.
Margaery nodded at Hannibal's challenge, and took the arrow in hand. She notched it and waited. Deep down she didn't like the idea of killing a sweet, soft rabbit. Deep down she hoped her aim would fail and that the rabbit would prove too fast for her meager skills. When the wolves' barking got louder and closer, Margaery's body tensed. Suddenly a large rabbit bolted out of the brush. Margaery aimed, squeezed her eyes shut tight and loosed the arrow. She almost got sick, hearing the sound of the rabbit cry out in pain as the arrow struck it in the side, straight through its belly. Margaery didn't look at it, she kept her eyes averted.
Hannibal watched and noted that her arrow was a fair blow that would eventually kill the rabbit, but not exactly a clean kill. Hannibal loosed his own arrow and finished off the rabbit quickly. He walked over to Margaery slowly and tilted her chin up to look into his dark eyes.
"Rabbits are not in danger of dying off entirely anytime soon, My Lady. They are a hearty meal and once summer is gone they are crucial for survival." He stepped closer to her and dropped his voice to a low whisper so that the guards would not hear him. "Is it the blood that bothers you? Or that it is a relatively peaceful animal, My Lady?"
Hannibal gave a whistle for the wolves to eat the rabbit. The shot through the stomach spoiled the meat for people to eat, but the wolves would enjoy it just fine.
Margaery shook her head, she knew it was necessary to kill a rabbit to eat it – and Gods knew she enjoyed her fair share of rabbit in the South. Margaery looked up to him with regret in her eyes. She felt foolish, silly for getting so upset.
"The animal," she replied softly. "Blood, violence, it has never bothered me very much." Margaery used to watch her brothers fight in duels, which often resulted in a broken nose or the combatants being hit hard somewhere that resulted in losing a great deal of blood; it had never bothered her.
Hannibal signaled his guards to create a perimeter. It was a difficult thing for many people to kill something innocent. However, if she was to be a proper Bolton and then a Queen, she would need to grow stronger. Hannibal placed an arm across her shoulders as he turned her to face him. He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. "Not everything that appears innocent is as it seems, My Lady. I know that at times taking a life can be difficult. However, you must not be afraid to do so. You may never know when that innocent life is corrupted by something else and needs to be killed. Those are decisions that every ruler must make."
Margaery blushed, embarrassed as he tipped her head up and looked into her eyes. She felt childish. She listened carefully and nodded slowly. "You're right, I know it." She sighed. "I just…I don't know. It wasn't how I expected, but then…I'm not certain what I expected either."
Her mouth turned into a weak, crooked smile as she looked up at him. "I am sorry...I feel so foolish," she whispered, brushing the snowflakes from her hair. How was she to prove that she was a proper huntress by behaving like this?
This little trip had turned into a greater test than Hannibal had originally thought. Margaery had not flinched, fainted, nor cried out when he shattered many of Ramsay's bones when they sparred in the courtyard. She had strength within her, likely she was not exposed to moments of life and death very often. He waited to see if she would shake herself out of this like she had earlier.
Margaery turned up the collar of her fur cloak, suddenly growing cold. She took a few breaths and thought of her grandmother and what she would say to her current foolishness. She would likely have been scolded for going hunting at all. Margaery decided to have no further fear, not here with Hannibal. She would be strong and not show such weakness again.
Hannibal watched as she eventually stood taller once more. He saw her shiver and stepped closer to her to provide additional warmth. He looked deep within her eyes. "For the record My Lady, my brother did not even wound a deer the first time he went hunting," he said, to give her an opportunity to fully regain her composure. "Do you feel up for another rabbit? Bringing one back with a clean kill would indeed get under his skin."
Margaery smiled and a mischievous light burned in her eyes. "If it's all the same, I want to try and bring in something bigger." A rabbit was fine, but in all honesty she didn't want to kill another one. A pheasant would also do, but Ramsay hadn't been able to bring in a deer? Margaery wanted to bring in a deer, if not a bear.
Hannibal saw the fire in her eyes and knew that she had recovered herself. He summoned the wolves and his guards back. "My future bride is bored with this small game. Are there any tracks of something larger in the area?" His men nodded and told Hannibal what they had spotted - the tracks of a few deer and a predatory cat. Hannibal turned to face Margaery. "What sounds most appealing to you?"
Margaery smiled up at him. "Do you have to ask? I should think it obvious. I want to be a proper Bolton. Which would be the most appropriate prey to hunt?"
Hannibal gave her a slight smirk. "My future bride will be a fiercer Lady Bolton than any of her predecessors. Which way did the cat go?"
Margaery broke out in a grin when he paid her such a compliment to the guards. She found herself suddenly eager to become Lady Bolton. Eager to please Hannibal. Eager to become stronger. The group immediately began to track the large cat. The wolves were by their sides as they hunted and they remained quiet. Their ears were laid back and the hair on the back of their necks was raised as they stalked alongside their masters. Margaery notched another arrow as they tracked the cat. She kept as alert as possible. One of the guards pointed out a large track, they were getting closer.
Hannibal could smell the cat and also had an arrow prepared as they moved through the forest. They all stopped and tensed as a low growl was heard to the left. Margaery's eyes moved, but her body didn't. Slowly she aimed at the brush to the left. All she saw amidst the brush was a pair of golden eyes. She didn't hesitate, Margaery loosed the arrow and hit between the cat's eyes. Hannibal watched as Margaery moved and listened as her arrow whistled through the air.
There was a loud yowl when the cat was hit. The wolves bared their teeth and moved in front of Margaery to keep her safe in case the cat turned out to be alive and pounced. After a moment, they sat down with their ears perked up and their tails wagging.
Hannibal smiled proudly at her as he relaxed and sent his guards to collect the dead animal. When they returned, her arrow could be seen sticking out of the cat's eye. "Well done, the eye is the perfect weak point in a predator to strike the brain and kill the animal." Hannibal ordered the guards to tie the dead creature down upon her horse.
"It is your clean kill, My Lady. You have matched my standing record of killing such a predator with a single arrow," Hannibal said as he offered a hand to assist Margaery into the saddle once again.
Margaery smiled at the praise. "I'm afraid that is simply a matter of beginner's luck. I only saw the eyes and fired promptly before I could truly take aim." Margaery got into the saddle with Hannibal's help and smiled down to him. "All the same, it's a satisfying kill indeed." Her first real kill on a hunt, a large cat from the North. She felt strong, powerful.
Hannibal mounted his own horse and looked up at the sky. "We should return to Winterfell," he said. He could feel the storm approaching.
Margaery nodded in agreement. "Yes. Quit while we are ahead, no?" She smiled. "I'm ready." She was practically wiggling in excitement. She'd proven herself an able huntress.
Chapter 13
Ramsay had heard the wolves howling upon the return of his brother and bride-to-be. He stood to look out his window to see what the results of the hunt were. Ramsay's face grew pale when he saw the great cat on the back of the bitch's horse. He knew the killing blow was not dealt by his brother. Hannibal would have struck through the throat or the ear. The eye was not enough of a challenge for a Bolton. He turned away to go lay down once again.
Roose stood over the ramparts overlooking the open courtyard. He too knew the storm was approaching Winterfell. He was pleased with the progress Hannibal was making with Margaery. He had thawed the flower out quickly enough; Roose had no doubt that the wedding he had made arrangements for would occur once they arrived in Highgarden. The Queen of Thorns would not best him in this matter. Roose turned to look at the entrance to the courtyard from the main gate. He heard horses approaching and found himself curious as to whether or not the hunt had been successful. The wolves ran into the keep first, they went straight to their kennel to warm up. The horses and riders followed next. Roose saw the impressive kill strapped down upon the Rose's horse.
Hannibal gave a bow of his head to his father as they rode close enough to speak. "You have picked a fine bride for me, father. She is a natural huntress that shows no fear."
Roose gave a nod before looking to Margaery. "Well hit, My Lady," he said flatly.
Margaery tipped her head to acknowledge Roose's complement. "Thank you My Lord, your son taught me well."
Roose paused a moment before turning to go back inside the keep.
Hannibal dismounted and reached up to assist Margaery out of her saddle. "That was high praise from him," he assured her softly. The guards moved to untie the body of the great beast. "What would you like as a trophy from your prize, My Lady?"
Margaery smiled as he helped her out of the saddle and gave a nod of understanding. She considered his question for a moment. "The teeth and claws – and anything else that you yourself deem useful, My Lord."
Hannibal nodded; his guards already knew what to collect for him and heard the added requests from the lady. They would have the trophies collected, cleaned and placed in their master's chambers quickly enough.
Margaery looked to Hannibal. "Forgive me but…might we visit the crypts now? The Stark land was kind enough to give me good game. I should like to pay the previous lords proper thanks."
Hannibal nodded in agreement. He glanced up at the sky and noted the clouds forming above them. "We can indeed My Lady, but we should not linger there for too long. It looks like the storm will strike sooner than we expected." He tucked two small flasks of ale into his belt before leaving the horses with stable boys and offering his arm to lead her towards the entrance of the crypts.
Margaery smiled when Hannibal agreed and took his arm when offered. She leaned into him as they walked, finding herself comfortable already being on his arm. "Thank you for teaching me," she smiled up at Hannibal. "I'm very glad that I was able to take down such formidable prey, but I would not have been able to do so without you."
Hannibal smiled to her. "You are quite welcome, My Lady." He led her straight to the entrance of the crypts. He picked up a torch before leading her inside.
The crypts were dark and dank. Margaery felt very much like an intruder as soon as they stepped up to the entrance. She felt as though all the eyes of the Kings of Winterfell were glaring at her.
Hannibal led her slowly through the maze of the crypts. He took her to the most recent tomb and lit the torches there. "This was the sister of Ned Stark. She is the last Stark that was properly buried," Hannibal explained as he bowed his head in respect to her stone likeness.
Margaery looked at the stone statues, until they came to Lyanna Stark. She looked up into that stone face, then bowed her head in respect. She was silent for a good long while.
"Soon those that have followed you will be where they belong," Hannibal said to the stone figure. Secretly, Hannibal had sent his men out to recover the Stark bodies and store them at Harrenhal in a secret crypt he had set up whilst they were there prior to Robb Stark's defeat. He assumed that Bran and Rickon Stark were still alive, since their bodies had not yet been located. Arya Stark's body was yet to be found as well.
When Hannibal spoke Margaery mentally noted his words, but simply kept her head bowed and remained silent. After a few moments she released his arm and moved deeper into the caverns. Her dark eyes swept through the stone faces. Margaery pulled the fur cloak tighter about her as the caverns grew colder. "Even in Highgarden we have nothing like this…" she whispered.
Hannibal stepped up behind her to continue providing light from the torch. "These tombs date back to when the North was ruled separately from the South and back to the First Men. The North remembers," Hannibal spoke with a sense of reverence. There was nothing living down here, and even his wolves were wary of coming down this far.
The phrase 'the North remembers' resonated with Margaery. She looked up to him with wide eyes, tilting her head. The Boltons had indeed been sworn to the Starks for centuries. Sometimes, considering the great differences between the clans, it was easy to forget how they came from the same region. Margaery felt cold and unsettled here. She looked up to Hannibal, rubbing her arms for warmth. "Shall we leave the deceased to rest in peace?"
Hannibal gave a nod as he put an arm around Margaery to hold her close. "Indeed we can." He slowly led her back towards the entrance of the tombs. He could hear the air shifting beyond the caverns and noted a chill in the air. He hoped the storm wasn't too strong and that they could move into the castle safely.
Margaery took Hannibal's arm and leaned into him as they moved towards the entrance of the crypts. She too could hear the wind and a cold shiver ran through her body. Just the thought of a harsh winter storm made her nervous. Even she could tell from how the wind howled that the weather had taken a wicked turn. Margaery shivered, and for different reasons she too prayed that they could get back to the castle.
Hannibal continued to hold her close as he felt her shiver. "Are you cold My Lady?" He asked as they made it to the entrance. He frowned when he saw a wall of white before them. His eyes narrowed as he looked to see if there was a hint of a path back towards the main keep. Unfortunately, he could not see a clear path, but his men knew they were here. They would arrive soon to guide them back. He moved to sit her in a covered alcove near the main entrance. He produced one of the flasks. "Would you care for some ale, My Lady? It will help warm you. My men will have a path for us to follow soon. We will not be here for long."
All Margaery could do was nod. Even so, she did it stiffly. At the offer of the flask, she nodded again and took it. She tipped the flask to her lips and sipped the ale. It helped warm her belly a bit, but otherwise she still felt cold. Margaery burrowed in against Hannibal, pressing her face against his shoulder. This was one aspect of the North that she could live without.
Hannibal opened both his cloak and his tunic slightly for her and then pulled her close so that her face and neck were pressed up against his bare chest. He wrapped his cloak around the pair of them tightly. "Is that a bit better, My Lady?" Margaery was slightly confused and a little apprehensive when Hannibal first opened his tunic. Then he pulled her in close and she instinctively buried her face into his neck. The warmth of his skin passed into her and she sighed against him.
Even though the wind continued to howl, Hannibal heard a few footsteps in the snow and knew his men were working towards them. Margaery also heard the footsteps and tensed against Hannibal. In her logical mind, she knew it was just the guards coming for them. However, deep inside she feared that it would be Ramsay's sneering face that broke through the wall of white.
So she kept her face buried against Hannibal's neck and wrapped her fingers around his cloak to keep him close.
Chapter 14
Hannibal continued to hold Margaery close. He spotted the guards finally reaching the entrance and picked her up easily into his arms. "Let us go inside, My Lady. Hold on tight."
He carried her and followed the chain of guards into the main hall. Hannibal gave a nod to his men before striding quickly towards the stairs. He carried Margaery all the way to their chambers in the tall tower, where there was a fire roaring in both of their chambers. He set her on her feet right in front of the fire in his chambers. "Here you are, My Lady. Let me know if you still feel a chill."
Margaery found herself amazed by Hannibal's feats of strength. She kept her face buried into his neck as he carried her into the castle. Roses didn't do well in the cold. It seemed like forever until she felt the heat of the fire and stirred to life again. It had taken five whole minutes to get back indoors. Margaery glanced up as Hannibal set her down and helped her settle into the seat. She pulled her cloak tighter about her and curled into herself in front of the fire.
Hannibal watched Margaery sit as he took off his cloak and riding gloves. He would keep an eye on her to make certain she started to warm up.
"Did you…carry me all that way?" Margaery asked as she felt a little warmer. His strength certainly was impressive.
The pups turned in circles around them and Mab toddled up to Margaery and yipped playfully. She sat at her feet and squirmed in excitement until Margaery reached down and stroked her soft little ears.
Hannibal gave a slight smile at her question. "I did indeed. You are quite light, My Lady." He said as a compliment before going over to Margaery to take off her wet cloak and gloves. He frowned when she still felt cold to the touch. "Are you still feeling cold?"
Margaery moved as she needed to for Hannibal to remove her wet clothes. She already felt much better, but she was still shivering. Margaery looked up to him sheepishly as he asked how she felt. "I'm afraid I am – forgive me, it seems my body has not yet adjusted to this climate." She felt weak and silly, still shivering from only being outside a short while. "You must think me foolish indeed, to still be this cold." She looked to the fire and another shiver rolled through her.
Hannibal shook his head when she continued to shiver. He moved to lock his chamber door. He put some hot coals into a metal pan, then moved to slide the pan beneath the bed to warm it up. He stood by her side and picked her up once again, only to set her on her feet by his large bed. "Your clothes are damp. You will grow warmer if you remove them and go beneath the dry covers," he told her as he began to undo the strong leather laces of her clothing for her.
Margaery yelped slightly in surprise when he lifted her. This made Mab jump up, already protective of her Mistress. When she realized the man wasn't hurting her, the wolf pup curled up near the fireplace.
Margaery looked to Hannibal with a suspicious smile, but she let him begin to undress her. The dress fell in a heap at her feet, and Margaery reached down to peel off her wet leggings. She faced forward though, keeping her front hidden from his view and glanced over her shoulder.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you wielded some manner of control over the weather in an attempt to get me in this position, naked in your bed," she teased, covering herself with her hands and sliding into the bed, pulling the sheets up over her.
Hannibal was a bit relieved that she showed some spirit at his instructions. He did move away to give her some privacy as she undressed. Once he heard the sheets shift into place, Hannibal turned to face her. "I am a very patient man, My Lady. I did not need such a ruse for you to wind up in my bed in such a state," he taunted.
Margaery tilted a brow at that comment. "Really? Speaking from experience, are we My Lord? I suppose I am not the first lady to appear in your bed." She found herself feeling a pang of jealousy, but she'd been married before…twice, in fact; so she had little room to argue.
Hannibal chuckled as he moved to lay down on top of the covers next to her. "Are you admitting to your own experience?"
Hannibal gave a whistle for the pups to come up on the bed and curl up around them for added warmth. Margaery was warmer with the pups, but she was still shivering. Mab cuddled closer against Margaery's ribs and curled up beside her. Margaery leaned in closer, enjoying the warmth as it was for now.
Hannibal spotted her shivering again and moved to rest the back of his hand against her forehead. "If you are still cold, the only thing more I can offer is to join you beneath the covers to share body heat. If that is necessary, it would be best if I were bare as well. I can leave a bit of cloth on for modesty if that would make you more comfortable."
Margaery smirked and tilted her head when he felt her forehead. "You're avoiding my first remark," she pointed out as she settled into the blankets. Still another shiver rolled through her body. "It's warmer, yes, but there's still a chill I can't seem to escape."
Hannibal gave a hint of a smile at that. "You should not ask a question to which you do not truly desire to know the answer." When she continued to shiver, he frowned.
He stood up and removed everything except for his smallclothes before slipping under the covers with Margaery. He moved close to her, but left her room to close the distance herself if she wanted. "Come close to me. I promise you will grow warmer." Mentally he was preparing himself to feel her soft, tempting body pressed up against him. He would have to work very hard to not allow his body to get ahead of his plan - he would remain in control of his cock in this moment, though it would take a great deal of willpower.
Margaery waited while Hannibal settled in close to her beneath the covers. She slowly cuddled in closer, sighing softly at the feeling of his warm skin against hers. "I do not ask questions without wanting to know the answer," she shifted, pressing her body into his. Her full, soft breasts pressing against his muscular chest. "We're to be married. There should not be such secrets between us, after all."
Hannibal noted that her skin was indeed cool to the touch. He then was very acutely aware of how the curves of her body were perfectly soft in all of the right places.
Margaery's lips pursed as she trailed her fingers idly along his chest, tracing his muscles. "I've trusted you thus far, have I not? I've trusted you on your honor with what will happen when we are married. If I'm to be your wife, I want to know what that truly means." She paused a moment before continuing, "How many women have you had? Do you often entertain them still? Will there come a time when I must step aside and allow another into your bed?" Not that she would approve of any of this, but still, the questions had to be asked.
Hannibal looked down and into her eyes. He gave a nod of his head. "That is a fair point, My Lady. I have only bedded two women prior to now, neither of whom I have seen since. I have not enjoyed the company of a woman in my bed since I was far younger. Though my brother has sent multiple whores to my bed as 'gifts'. I have always sent them away with some gold for their trouble." His eyes shifted down over her form for a moment before focusing on her eyes again. "I suspect that once I have had a proper taste of you, there won't be another who could compare, My Lady. You will have no need to fear infidelity from me."
Margaery listened carefully and rested her head briefly against his shoulder. She listened to his words, to the heartbeat beneath his chest. "And…were these women that meant something to you? Or simply a means to an end?" She was glad that Hannibal was so unlike his brother. Ramsay was cruel and Hannibal was a far better leader and lord.
Hannibal shook his head. "They were a means to an end for my father, not for myself. Once to learn how to be with a woman once I was of age. The second time to put a lower lord in his place." He did not give further details of that second encounter, but he had not lain with a woman for love - something that should set Margaery at ease.
But something bothered Margaery about that second woman he mentioned. She bit her lower lip and looked up to him. "And if your father called upon you again, after we are wed, would you have to answer and do such things again?" She may not have to fear his infidelity, but the idea of him being forced to do something like that as a familial obligation unnerved her. She didn't want him to do it.
Hannibal knew what Margaery feared just by looking into her eyes.
"Do not worry. He won't order such a thing after we are wed. He will want me to be focused on you alone for the first few months." His father would want him to produce an heir first. He then turned to look at her with amusement dancing in his eyes. "Now, tell me truthfully. Am I betrothed to a true maid?"
Margaery blushed and looked down for a moment at that question before looking up again. "You're of course aware that Renly preferred the company of men. As such, our marriage was never consummated. Not once." She explained. "Joffrey died on our wedding day, but if I'm honest that did not sadden me."
Joffrey had sickened her. He was cruel, sadistic and horrible; he would have killed and tortured her if given the chance, she was certain of it. "Yes, My Lord. I am a true maid," she leaned up and whispered against his lips. "But that doesn't mean I know nothing of pleasing a man."
Hannibal chuckled at her tease as he shifted an arm to hold her closer. That hand slid beneath her to rest on the small of her back for the time being. "I must say that I am looking forward to discovering your hidden talents, My Lady," he said with a slight rumble in his voice. He still had enough self-restraint to not touch her inappropriately. Though he was indeed tempted. However, he was not going to be that bold first; he would let her set the pace.
Margaery found it too easy to cuddle in close as Hannibal held her. She lay partially atop him, her chest over his, her legs parted with one thigh between his legs. Her hair fell down her back and over one shoulder as a cascade of brunette curls. "You'll have to be patient, I plan on remaining a maid until our wedding night."
Still, it felt natural leaning into him, letting her lips press over his and her fingers run over his chest. She wanted to feel the muscle and strength beneath his skin.
Hannibal felt her shift and took a moment to keep himself under control. "Fear not, My Lady. My father trained me well in self-control. You need not fear me claiming you before our wedding night," he assured her before shifting so that she could rest her leg over his mostly soft cock. If she were wise, she would at least prepare herself mentally for him. He was gifted by the Gods on that account. The Maester had told his father that once he was of age, he could produce a legion of heirs if he married a strong woman built to birth children.
Margaery tilted a brow and looked at him in amusement. "He taught you self-control? I thought you Boltons were all about indulgence?"
When he moved her, Margaery felt his cock against her leg and her eyes widened a bit. Renly had nothing on Hannibal. She found herself blushing, worried that she wouldn't be able to accommodate him. No, that fear would be dealt with on their wedding night. Margaery continued tracing over his chest. "Mmm…then I shall look forward to that night." Margaery leaned down and dragged her lips over his jaw, trailing down to kiss his neck and chest, over his beating heart. She even nipped playfully at his skin.
Hannibal noted her blush and knew that she had not known any man of his size. There was an amused smirk on his face. "Self-control is the first lesson learned by a Bolton. What is the first lesson a Tyrell learns?"
Margaery smiled when she heard that rumble. Her body arched against his, her soft breasts and folds pressed or just barely brushing against his body.
"The first lesson a Tyrell learns is how to be courtly, polite, and demure." Margaery leaned back just a little so that he would see the spark in her dark eyes. "The first lesson I learned was how to observe; how to observe an enemy and discover their weakness. How to observe a man, and what brings him pleasure…" At the last part, Margaery dragged her tongue along the groove of his neck and nipped playfully up near his ear. She couldn't help moaning softly as she pressed her body against his.
Hannibal rumbled lowly and the pups shifted to the corner of the bed and away from the pair of them. "Be careful of your actions," he said as a warning. "You might stir something up that you are not prepared to resolve."
Margaery smirked as she looked down at him. Her leg rubbed softly against him as she felt his cock twitch beneath her. "You think me incapable of stopping you if you move in a manner I don't like?" She nuzzled against his neck and kissed over his jaw. "You can't go too far with me – my family will inspect the bedsheets after our wedding night. If I'm not a true maid that night, they will know. So you'll have to exercise that famed Bolton self-control." She whispered the words low into his ear.
