Chapter 15

Jorah had not been aware of Daenerys' intention to join her husband in his funeral pyre. He had thrown aside decorum and begged her not to go even as she took those slow, measured steps towards the blaze.. Unfortunately his words had no sway over her, and she joined her husband.

He watched as the fire burned and consumed everything. Jorah didn't move from his spot as he watched all through the night. The longer he watched, the more he noticed that something seemed to be moving in the smoke. He moved closer as the smoke began to clear and dawn broke over the mountains behind him. He stared in shock as he looked amongst the smoke and ash that remained of Khal Drogo's funeral pyre.

There sat Daenerys, alive with three baby dragons perched around her. She was naked, as the flames had consumed her thin dress; but otherwise she was unhurt. Jorah could not believe his eyes. He watched as she stood and began walking away from the pyre's charred remains. Jorah fell to his knees and looked upon Daenerys in awe.

He would follow her until the end of his days.

Bran felt a mix of emotions as they sat in the abandoned keep. He was glad that they had made it to The Wall, but he was worried about precisely how they would get through. He was about to warg into Summer while the wolf was out hunting when a distant noise caught his attention. He sat up straighter and watched as Meera nocked an arrow. The small group of four listened as the noise grew louder, and then they saw something shift by what looked like a well at the center of the room. Meera pulled back the string of her bow as a head began to rise from the well. Samwell was startled to see people inside the abandoned keep. The arrow pointing at him did nothing to assuage his surprise, but it made him start talking immediately. "Don't shoot! My name is Samwell Tarley. I'm a sworn brother of the Night's Watch." Bran saw the dark furs wound about Sam's husky frame and lowered his hand. "It's all right Meera." Meera slowly relaxed her bow before lowering it to her side. Sam breathed a sigh of relief before climbing out of the well and helping Gilly and Little Sam out in turn. Meera looked at the fat man skeptically. "I thought your oath forbade you Watchmen from fathering children." Sam nodded his head quickly, "It is part of my oath. I-I know how this must look, but the child is not mine." Gilly stepped up for Sam. "Sam saved us from the White Walkers. He isn't my sweet boy's father, but he has protected us like a proper father should." Jojen tilted his head before glancing at Bran and giving a small nod. Bran looked at Sam before speaking up again. "How exactly did you protect them from the White Walkers?" Sam was surprised that this small group didn't seem surprised about the White Walkers. Most people still considered to be nothing more than fairy tale fodder for scaring children into obedience. He looked the four of them over more carefully before realization crossed his face. "You are Brandon Stark! I swore my oath to the Old Gods with your brother Jon. I can help you get to Castle Black to wait for him to return from beyond The Wall." Jojen spoke up then. "We do not have time to go to Castle Black first. We must get through The Wall as quickly as possible. Is there a tunnel that will take us through?" Sam's eyes widened. "You want to go beyond The Wall? Why don't you just come with us to Castle Black instead?" Bran had a somber look on his face as he shook his head slowly. "No Sam, We must go through The Wall, today." Sam looked panicked, but Gilly put her hand on his arm. He looked around slowly and could see the resolve on all their faces. There would be no convincing them against their chosen path. Sam sighed deeply. "There is a path, but you shouldn't go unprepared." He started digging into a bag he had with before passing them some pieces of shiny black stone. "It's dragonglass, they can kill White Walkers - trust me." Meera took a few pieces and put them into her bag. Bran gave a nod of his head. "Thank you Sam." *** Olenna Tyrell was absolutely livid as she waited for the Bolton caravan to arrive. The Tyrell army was poised to attack should the Boltons even flinch the wrong way. A part of her hoped the Bolton bastard had the spine to come down here again with the entourage so that she could demand his death in retribution for his crimes. But she doubted that Roose would allow him to tag along. Unfortunately, Roose was a very shrewd and skillful opponent. He would not make such a mistake, something that annoyed Olenna to her core. Brienne ordered the bowmen to nock their arrows as the carriages came into range, and they all waited to see if Margaery could even walk. Mace and Willas Tyrell stood beside her as they anxiously waited to see Margaery. Chapter 16 Once the storm in the north had died down, the Bolton caravan had left Winterfell, bound for Highgarden. The trip had been smooth and uneventful. Both Roose and Hannibal had agreed that Ramsay would have tried to cause a war if he were permitted to come along, so he had indeed been left at Winterfell. This wedding was far too important to let him ruin their plans. Hannibal had brought the four wolf pups along with them. They rode in the carriage with Margaery to keep her both warm and safe. He did not want to leave them in Winterfell as easy targets for his brother. Hannibal kept Margaery entertained each time they stopped along the journey so that it went by faster. He continued to build the relationship with her that had begun before they left Winterfell. It had taken nearly a month to get to Highgarden, both Hannibal and Margaery were very eager to be wed. Margaery did not want to admit how much her desire to marry him had grown during the journey to Highgarden, yet she couldn't help herself. Scouts had gone ahead to see the welcoming party awaiting them. They came back and reported of the archers stationed outside the keep. Roose gave the order and all arms were removed and placed in the cart that had carried the rations for the journey south. Both Hannibal and Roose removed their personal arms as well before they came within firing range of Highgarden, a show of good faith to the Tyrells. Margaery was overjoyed at seeing Highgarden. However, the show of arms and the additional guards along the castle walls made her frown slightly. Surely all of this was unnecessary. Mace Tyrell watched as the caravan arrived. He could see that they were unarmed. He signaled Brienne to order the men to lower their weapons. They were still on alert for the time being; he almost felt disappointed that the Boltons were not more reckless. When the carriage stopped, Hannibal dismounted his horse before opening the door and assisting Margaery out. He stood by the carriage so that the Tyrells could see that she was uninjured and could move on her own. Olenna was relieved to see Margaery moving under her own power. "Margaery! Thank the Gods, child." Olenna stepped closer, and Margaery ran to her immediately. "Are you hurt?" "No grandmother, I'm fine." Margaery looked around. "What's going-?" "Lord Bolton," Olenna cast a glare to Roose. "I would speak with you. Inside. Now." Olenna wasn't about to take 'no' for an answer. She took Margaery's arm and led her inside. The Bolton guards stood relaxed. They had been instructed not to instigate any fighting. Roose had frowned at the hostile welcome, but was not surprised by it. He gave a nod to Olenna as he dismounted and followed after her. Hannibal was quick on his father's heels. He would not be absent from this conversation. Once they stopped inside, Roose spoke first. "My bastard remains in Winterfell. His actions in no way reflect the intentions of my house. It was dishonorable and he was punished severely for what he did." Olenna led the group to a private sitting room. As Roose spoke, she paid him no mind. She was too focused on her granddaughter. "How long has it been since they fed you dear? Have you been mistreated in any way?" Margaery tried to answer her grandmother, but she did not give Margaery an opportunity. She snapped her fingers at a servant. "You there! Bring my granddaughter's favorite mint tea and honey cakes." "Grandmother, really. I'm fine. No one's mistreated me in Winterfell," Margaery chimed in. "Except for the bastard, I'm sure," Olenna rolled her eyes. Only then did she look to Roose. "Where that runt gets his nerve is beyond me, Lord Bolton. He comes charging in here, takes my poor granddaughter and has likely terrorized her only Gods know how!" "He hasn't, grandmother," Margaery squeezed Olenna's arm. "My betrothed has protected me, I promise." "Your betrothed," Olenna scoffed before she glared at Roose. "That's another matter! You had no business arranging such a marriage with my fathead son, Mace. Make no mistake, I am head of House Tyrell. Margaery will be wed to whom I say she will be wed. Now tell me, why would I allow her to marry a Northman whose clan still honors the horrid first night ritual? And don't bother denying it. I know that's damn well how your bastard was conceived in the first place. It explains a lot, really." Margaery looked distressed for a moment, but knew her grandmother was not in a mood to listen to her. Nothing she said would do any good. "Why would I marry Margaery to a Bolton? She was born and bred to be Queen. Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not some icy stretch of land in the North," Olenna kept her ominous look as the servant brought the tea and cakes as commanded. Mortified, Margaery took a honey cake and nervously nibbled at it. Her father was sweating profusely beside Olenna. She was going to get everyone in Highgarden killed. Both Bolton men sat like stone as Olenna began her tirade. Neither showed a single emotion on their faces as she berated their house. They had expected as much from her and were not surprised that she was so blunt. Roose waited for her to stop talking for a full three seconds before he attempted to speak again. "I will have my son, her betrothed, speak for himself." Hannibal gave a respectful bow to his father before focusing his gaze upon the Queen of Thorns. "I personally dealt severe punishment upon my half-brother atop the punishment set forth by my father for his actions that embarrassed both of our noble houses. He is still healing from the broken bones I gave him for being so disrespectful to Lady Margaery. During her brief stay in Winterfell, I took responsibility for Lady Margaery's health and safety while the caravan to return her to Highgarden was prepared. I can assure you that she was well-fed and was given free rein to explore Winterfell at her pleasure. To your other concerns of my family's past rituals, as of today House Bolton no longer follows those outdated, barbaric rituals. It is a flawed tradition that has caused embarrassment to my house." There was absolute authority in Hannibal's voice when he spoke. Roose nodded his head in agreement with his son. "My bastard is the last Snow produced by a Bolton, that is my promise. I would not worry about your granddaughter remaining so far North for very long. The political climate here in the South has once again become...tense. I foresee an opportunity for House Bolton to settle in warmer climates." The alliances forged by the Lannisters were beginning to fracture. It would not take much for them to become overwhelmed by their own folly. Olenna scoffed before taking a sip of mint tea. She quietly listened to Roose and Hannibal as they explained their intentions. However, Olenna Tyrell was not one to take men simply at their word. "And I suppose you expect me to take your word for that?" Olenna tilted a brow. "The word of the man who took up arms with the Lannisters and organized the horrid Red Wedding." Margaery placed a hand over her grandmother's arm and looked to her with soft eyes. "Grandmother…" "No, my dear, if I am to trust these men with your safety, I will know their true intentions," Olenna replied before looking at the Bolton men. "How am I to trust you with my Margaery, knowing the crimes you committed against House Stark?" Margaery looked to Hannibal, silently pleading for him to be patient and persistent with her. Olenna would not respect a man who backed down like Mace. Neither he, nor Roose, showed emotions at Olenna's accusations at first. However, Hannibal did allow a bit of fire flash through his eyes at the thought of her breaking the match. Roose spoke up first. "I am not the first Lord to follow his King's command to lead a slaughter. As you know, I have never been beaten in battle. That is because I always align myself with the winning side. I believe that a new alliance with House Tyrell will be equally beneficial. The Dreadfort and Highgarden represent two strong houses on either side of the Lannisters." As a strategist, that was an automatic trap for the house stuck in the middle. Hannibal nodded in agreement before beginning his own argument. "Do you honestly believe there is another house left that can provide a path to Margaery wearing the crown? You would truly trust those inbred lions who hide behind their golden army a second time? Or perhaps the poisonous snakes from the South who would just as soon claim the throne for themselves? I have heard there may still be a male heir from the Ironborn, perhaps a life at sea for her, then?" He asked. "You may not agree with the history of my house, Lady Olenna. However, we do not hide behind our sigil. Our true nature is plainly visible to the world. My house has survived and slowly risen. There is only so much further my house can rise. I fully intend to accomplish that during my lifetime." Hannibal spoke with conviction. There was passion in his eyes and honesty as he kept eye contact with Olenna. He would not back down from her. Olenna pursed her lips, considering Hannibal's words. He had a point indeed. There were no living male heirs of the Stark clan, not even the Targaryens had any male heirs…that she knew of, anyway. Olenna knew deep down that he was right, but she didn't want to admit it. Margaery took her grandmother's hand and looked to her. "Grandmother, I know you think it hard to believe, but my betrothed is a good man," she insisted. "He has protected me, kept me safe, and made certain I was happy. Not once did he take advantage of me despite having numerous opportunities and no one to stop him." Olenna looked between Margaery, Hannibal, and Roose. She sighed after a moment and looked to Margaery. "Sweet child, are you certain of this?" "Yes grandmother," Margaery nodded. "I am. Hannibal is a fine man and I am confident that he would make an excellent husband." Both Bolton men waited patiently for a response. They could see that Olenna was nearly convinced. Olenna was confident that Margaery would communicate any secret messages or needs to her, but she seemed to be telling the truth. "Very well," Olenna looked to Mace. "Go on then, you great fool, we have a wedding to plan!" Margaery smiled to Hannibal when her grandmother agreed. Hannibal gave Margaery the smallest of winks as his eyes danced with genuine delight. Otherwise, he maintained his calm composure. Roose looked to Mace Tyrell. "I have able-bodied men who can assist as necessary for the preparations." Mace gave his thanks to Roose before hurrying off to discuss the details with the cooks, florists, and maids. Margaery would be needing a dress as well, after all. Hannibal looked to Margaery for a moment before turning back to Olenna. "Are there rooms for us to stay? Or are we to stay with our men in tents?" Olenna smirked at the pair of them. "Rooms will be prepared promptly for you, in the meantime let us enjoy the moment and toast the young couple," Olenna held up her tea. "To Margaery, to Hannibal, to new beginnings." Margaery held up her own tea in toast and took a sip as her grandmother finished. "You will not be disappointed, grandmother." Both Hannibal and Roose raised their glasses in a toast as well. At long last, they had the wedding they had planned months ago. Chapter 17 Jorah sighed as he looked out at the barren landscape ahead. He turned on his horse to look behind him at the newly-obtained Unsullied army that followed Daenerys Targaryen. He could still see wisps of smoke from Astapor behind them. This was a good start for Daenerys to begin her campaign to return to her home and reclaim her throne. She was doing well in building her power and strength. However, he was not happy about this plan to free Yunkai as well. He felt that this would become a distraction and cause her to lose sight of her ultimate goal to reclaim her throne. The only positive side to this plan was that it would give her a taste of war and strategy before they returned to Westeros, where she would have to deal with the likes of the Lannisters. He spotted a good area to make camp just ahead. He turned his horse back and rode to Daenerys' side before bowing his head. "Khaleesi, we are still over a full day away from Yunkai. Perhaps we could stop to make camp earlier this evening." He suggested. The Unsullied were a superior army. However, they would still need rest. Daenerys heard Jorah approach and turned her head just enough to acknowledge him. "Wouldn't that slow us down in our goal?" She asked. Jorah nodded his head, "It would. However, exhausted soldiers are no good to anyone. You want your army to be fresh for a new battle. And marching too fast would cause them to be fatigued at the beginning of the battle, which would put us at risk." Daenerys considered his advice before she gave a nod of agreement. "Very well. We will stop here to make camp for the evening." The call was given and the camp was set up. Jorah made certain everything was prepared as Daenerys liked. Once the camp was set up, some of the remaining Dothraki began a wrestling tournament for sport. Jorah was challenged by the Dothraki. He could not back down from such a challenge; he would be considered weak if he did not join the tournament. Jorah removed his armor and weapons, along with his shirt to show that he was not armed in any way. Daenerys heard of the tournament and went to go watch. She was young, but she was not blind to the looks she got from Ser Jorah Mormont from time to time. He was a kind enough man, and she had greatly enjoyed all of the stories he had told her of Westeros. More and more she had found her eyes lingering upon him for longer than they should. She found herself wondering what it would be like to peel back the dusty layers of his clothing and leathers to let them fall to the sand beneath their feet. It was at those times she consciously separated herself from him, fearful of what she might do or say. It had been some time since she had lost Khal Drogo. Her Sun and Stars had placed a fire in her belly that desired to be tended even after his passing. Part of her desired Jorah to be the one to fulfill that need. Jorah had spotted Daenerys watching the matches. His desire to win grew and he stood taller as he started his next match. He was struggling with his growing feelings for her. They were not appropriate feelings or desires for a knight about his Queen. However, he was also a man who had his own desires that needed to be satisfied. Daenerys watched the tournament for a time and noted how Jorah seemed to hold his own remarkably well against her Bloodriders. She could see how his muscular form was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Daenerys excused herself and retired to her tent to try and calm herself down after that sight ignited the flame in her belly. Jorah had not expected to do so well in the variety of wrestling matches. He was finally defeated when one of the Unsullied officers joined the tournament. He laughed off the loss and went to get a drink of water. As he was drinking, an idea came to him when he saw two Unsullied officers wrestling. A possibility that would allow them to not linger long in Yunkai but still accomplish what Daenerys desired. He made his way to Khaleesi's tent to tell her his idea. After Daenerys had retired to her tent, she had the servants change her clothes into her she had sent them away, intending on going to bed. Daenerys was wearing a loose gown of sheer fabric, it was more comfortable to sleep in during the hot desert nights. She was lying down on her bed as her hands moved over her own body. Perhaps she should have kept one of her servants to assist her. She sighed softly as she was about move her fingers further south to continue exploring her body, but then she heard footsteps just in time to sit up before the person entered. Jorah strode into the tent and stepped past the flaps. "Khaleesi-" Jorah froze for a moment when his eyes adjusted to the tent lighting and he saw her. This was not the first time Jorah had beheld her true beauty - the nightgown did nothing to hide her slender figure. When she had walked out of that funeral pyre all of her clothes had been burned away. He found himself greatly distracted and he tried very hard to look down at his feet and not at her body too much. "I…I had considered a plan of action after Yunkai." Jorah's entrance into Daenerys' tent had been quite a surprise for her. His chest still glistening slightly with sweat. She blushed upon looking at him and struggled to maintain her poise, but she didn't move to cover herself. "Is that what has brought you to my tent at this hour?" She asked him. Daenerys then realized that she had been staring at his chest and she tried to shift her focus to his face with limited success. Jorah had been staring at his feet, but he glanced up and noticed that she seemed to be staring at him in turn. He looked over himself for a moment, puzzled as to why she might be staring. Jorah froze for a second before looking up at her. He suddenly began to wonder if maybe…no, she couldn't…but then she tried to look away too. Jorah swallowed the lump he felt in his throat as he slowly began to close the distance between them. If she ordered him to stop, he would; but he was going to continue until she told him to stop. Once he was standing close enough to touch her, he stopped. "It was, but now I see that something else needs to be discussed," he said softly. Daenerys felt that fire within her growing hotter with each step Jorah took forward. She looked up at him slowly. "What might that be?" She asked in a soft whisper as she stood up from her bed. Jorah felt that this would be his one opportunity. He brought one hand up to tuck a lock of her beautiful silver hair behind her ear. That hand then shifted to cup the back of her head as he closed the distance between them and kissed her. The kiss was both tender and passionate. He held it until he needed to breathe before pulling back slowly from the kiss. He prayed fervently to the gods that she would not send him away or punish him for his boldness. Daenerys felt her heart rate rise as he touched over her face. She sighed into the kiss and felt her body shift closer to his. The fire within got so hot she feared her entire body might burst into flames. She returned the kiss and even followed after him a bit when he pulled back. She was a bit breathless from the long kiss. "Yes, this discussion must happen tonight. Do not stop until everything has been said," She commanded. Jorah had been worried when she hesitated to speak. His eyes widened with a bit of surprise at her command. He did not need to be told twice. Jorah's hands were on her as he pulled her tight to his body. "I am yours to command Khaleesi, always." He said before he kissed her again. *** The wedding preparations were made quickly, but no expense was spared. If her granddaughter was getting married, Olenna Tyrell would make certain only the best was arranged. Margaery's favorite treats and dishes were prepared, along with a few traditional dishes of the North. Her gown was made quickly by the most skilled seamstresses in Highgarden, and fit her perfectly. They would be able to have the ceremony as the sun was setting, a fact Olenna was certain would please her Margaery. Hannibal spent time with Margaery, or as much as Olenna would allow, as the preparations were made. He remained absolutely respectful and made certain young Mab was returned to Margaery's side as quickly as possible. While he was with her, Hannibal did whisper low promises into her ears to try and bring a blush to her face on a few occasions. Once everything was prepared he was ushered out, he made no attempts to approach Margaery's chambers while she was preparing for the ceremony. In the North, Margaery would have been taken to the Godswood to be given to Hannibal. Here in the South, things were done differently. Mace led Margaery towards the small Sept. Her gown was flawless ivory with a lengthy four-foot train trailing off the back. The back was entirely open and the lacy straps covered her shoulders with a soft floral pattern. The cut in the front hugged her breasts and showed just a touch of cleavage. It was a truly elegant and beautiful gown. Margaery's hair had been curled and secured with jeweled floral pins. She looked up to Hannibal with wide doe eyes. That pink blush tinged her cheeks as her father led her to him. Hannibal was dressed in his finest outfit of crimson red and black. It was tailored to show off his masculine physique as he stood tall and strong to await his blushing bride. He wore a blood-red cloak, which of course he would soon set about her shoulders. Hannibal watched in awe as Margaery walked gracefully by her father's side, she was absolutely beautiful in this moment. Hannibal gave a bow to Mace as Margaery's hand was transferred to his own. Hannibal then led Margaery closer to the altar where the Septon was waiting for them. They were wed when a ribbon of red silk was secured around their wrists and they spoke their oaths before the gods. Hannibal placed the Bolton cloak about her shoulders, and soon he led her back out of the Sept bearing the Bolton cloak and their bound wrists. There were cheers as the happy couple were led to the great hall where the celebration of the wedding would begin. Margaery had enjoyed the ceremony immensely. However, she was rather enjoying the opportunity to dance so close to Hannibal. As she danced with Hannibal, she felt a firm tap on her shoulder. Margaery turned and smiled upon seeing her grandmother. "Forgive me child – I'd like to cut in," Olenna smiled, clad in her finest robin-egg-blue silks. Margaery bowed her head and stepped back from Hannibal to allow her grandmother to take her place. Hannibal gave a bow to Olenna and led her around the room with respectful grace. Olenna did not press as close as Margaery had, but she kept close enough to whisper lowly: "Answer me honestly, boy. Do you mean to harm my granddaughter?" Olenna kept her voice down so only Hannibal would hear. Her low words were met with Hannibal lowering his own voice in return. "I may be a Bolton, but I was raised by the Starks. It is my responsibility to protect her; I will kill my own father and half-brother if they threaten her." "I should hope you mean it." Olenna replied. "I am not above committing murder and high treason to protect that girl. I arranged for one husband's death, I will arrange another if I must." The music began to slow and Olenna made sure to look him straight in the eyes. "I will do anything to protect my family. For Margaery, I will do even more." Olenna paused for a moment before continuing. "But, she trusts you, and I in turn trust her judgment. If she says you will protect her, I believe it. So see that you do." Hannibal gave a nod of his head in understanding. "I will protect her until my dying breath." As the music ended, Olenna stepped back and curtseyed slightly for Hannibal. He bowed to her in return. Hannibal watched as she moved away. His father was right, Olenna Tyrell was both a strong ally and a dangerous enemy. He would be a fool to try and cross her. Hannibal then turned to find his wife and rejoin the festivities. The wedding feast lasted for nearly six full hours before things began to wind down. Hannibal had been patiently waiting, but his patience had been waning during the sixth hour of celebration. He was well aware that there was not to be a bedding ceremony, and he was glad for that. He wanted to take his time and really enjoy their first evening together properly. Olenna had left clear commands that no bedding of any sort would occur. She had only conceded that an inspection of the sheets would follow their wedding night to prove that Margaery had indeed been given over to the Boltons as a true maid. Olenna tapped on her goblet and raised it once the room quieted down. "Seven blessings for the new couple! A toast to their wedded bliss and future happiness!" Her words were echoed by all in attendance, and everyone drank to Olenna's toast. After the toast, Mace stood to speak. "Thank you friends for joining us in these festivities. Now is the hour all fathers fear the most. When he sends his daughter off with her new husband to bed." There was a smattering of cheers and applause from a few of the men who were quite drunk. Fortunately, nothing was overly vulgar. Hannibal gave a bow of his head to Mace before standing and offering his hand to Margaery. He laced her arm through his as he led her out of the great hall and towards the chamber that had been prepared for them for their wedding night. The great hall filled with cheers as they left and a few men called out advice for the couple on how to enjoy the night. Chapter 18 Far away in Braavos, a girl was sitting at the bottom of the steps listening to what was happening around her. She didn't hear movement, but she could feel the presence nearby of another girl with a stick. She continued to wait for money, but was prepared to fight off the stick of the other girl when she attacked. It was only a matter of time before she did. *** Hannibal lifted Margaery into his arms and carried her into the chambers prepared for them once they were away from prying eyes. Margaery, delighted to have him carrying her, kissed along Hannibal's jaw and nuzzled against his didn't resist him in the least as he brought her to their chambers. Hannibal shut the door with his foot and set her on her feet at the foot of the bed. There were freshly-cleaned white linens atop the bed. Hannibal knew how he wanted to initiate this. He wanted to draw on her instincts to keep her relaxed. Hannibal held Margaery close and kissed her deeply. He slowly turned her around so that he could inspect her gown and remove it slowly, carefully. He brushed his lips over the side of her neck and up to her ear to nibble lightly on the soft flesh. "I promise to be gentle," he whispered lowly. Margaery felt her body begin to tingle in anticipation as he began to undo her gown and she found herself facing the pristine bed. When Hannibal spoke, she looked over her shoulder and smiled playfully to him. "Not for too long, I hope," she teased. Once she felt the fabric around her loosen enough where she could slip out of it on her own, she turned around to face him. She wanted to undress him before she dropped her dress. Her fingers worked the various clasps and ties of his doublet to begin to undress him in turn. She felt…different. Becoming a Bolton was very different from being a Baratheon. It made her feel…stronger, bolder – as though she could do far more than she ever could before, than she ever could as a Baratheon. Hannibal smirked at her answer and her boldness to begin undressing him. He tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. "Tonight I will be gentle…at first," he promised with a teasing light in his eyes. He assisted her by sliding his doublet off once she had opened it and stepped out of his boots. Hannibal took off his undershirt so that he was bare from the waist up. He left his tight leather pants on for her to remove, and through them it was obvious that he was already hard and ready for her. He would be gentle for as long as his patience allowed. When he bared his chest, Margaery pressed her still clothed body against his, letting him savor the feeling of silk warmed between them by their combined body heat. She could feel how hard he was through the leather trousers he wore. Her hand dove between them and she rubbed his cock through the leather. She untied his trousers and reached beneath them to squeeze his cock. Hannibal rumbled lowly as she teased his cock and worked to get his pants off. Once she had his pants open, he helped her in pushing both his pants and small clothes down. Hannibal then stepped out of them to bare his strong, muscular form to her. Once he stepped out of his remaining clothes, Margaery looked over his strong body. Only then did it occur to her that she had never done this before. Never before had a man been inside of her; and suddenly she began to tremble. Suddenly, for all her teasing and boasting, she was fearful of the pain she'd heard so many women speak of after their maidenhead had been breached. She blushed, embarrassed of her fear. Margaery tried not to let Hannibal see how afraid she was, and tried to disguise it by leaning in and kissing along his jaw. Hannibal let her kiss along his jaw as he reached around and pushed the silk of her gown down to pool around her ankles. He wanted to see what he had felt in Winterfell properly. Margaery sighed softly as the silk fell from her slender body. The heat of their naked bodies pressed together felt even hotter here in the South. He looked over her face for a moment. "You are beautiful," he said before claiming her lips in a gentle kiss. Margaery leaned against him and kissed him back, deeply. Hannibal lifted her to lie her down in the center of the bed. He wanted to be certain they ruined these sheets without any doubt. Margaery's body arched against him. She felt heat building between them rapidly. Hannibal held the kiss as his hands set to work preparing her. He wanted to be gentle at first to solidify her trust in him. One hand palmed over her breast as the other shifted between her legs. He had yet to penetrate her, so he would use his fingers to make her first time as painless as possible. Two of his rough fingers rubbed along her slit to find the sensitive spot near the top of it. Margaery arched her body into his, savoring the feeling of his weight overtop her. As his fingers worked over her sensitive breasts, she sighed and arched her back to press them more into his touch. "Oh yes…" The feel of his fingers moving between her legs made her gasp softly. She felt a tremor roll through her bare body. Margaery slid one hand between them to brush over his hard length. Meanwhile her lips claimed his in another deep kiss. She feared the pain, but she needed him - the desire she felt for him was too overwhelming, and it began to conquer her fear rapidly. Hannibal returned the deep kiss as he shifted one finger to find her entrance. He slowly circled that entrance before easing his finger in slowly. He continued this pattern of slowly adding fingers one at a time until he was up to three. That would stretch her enough to make the entrance of his cock less painful. Margaery whimpered as he slipped a finger inside her and brushed against her maidenhead. It hurt, briefly, each time his finger slipped inside and brushed against the barrier and stretched her out from the inside. However, having his finger probe within her sent sparks rushing through her body. When he added a second finger, then a third, Margaery cried out and whimpered softly in a combination of pain and pleasure. The movements of his fingers made her wet and wanting for him. Hannibal knew she was ready when he felt how wet his fingers were. He slid his fingers out and shifted to press only the tip of his length within her. He moved to lace their fingers together and look deep within her eyes. He gave a few shallow rocks of his hips so that she could enjoy some pleasure and adjust to his full girth. He then slid into her in a full thrust to claim her maidenhead. Hannibal growled lowly at the tightness around his length as he began to thrust at a slow, steady pace to build her pleasure. When he slid inside her, Margaery turned her head back; clamping her eyes shut and crying out softly in pain as her maidenhead was broken. She felt warm, sticky wetness flood from her core. But soon enough the pain melted into pleasure. Margaery recovered with heavy breath and looked up to Hannibal's eyes as he drove into her deep and slow. She felt his cock stretch her out as his fingers had, and it made her moan. "More…please, more…" she begged against his lips. Hannibal saw that look from her and continued to thrust deep within her. He felt his cock throbbing within her - it would not be much longer before he spilled his seed. He kissed her deep before pulling back a bit to look deep into her eyes. There was affection in his eyes as he continued to thrust into her. Margaery cried out as he slipped into her, the aching pain continued to ebb and melt – forgotten as Hannibal made love to her. Margaery arched her back as the tension in her core built from the force of his thrusts. She moaned his name over and over again. "Hannibal…gods, Hannibal!" Hannibal slowly sped up before speaking her name softly in turn. He then slammed deep within her as his thick seed shot from his cock deep within her core. He stayed buried to the hilt within her as her tight core milked him dry. He remained hard deep within her for the time being. He was watching her face to see if she had reached her peak as well. Margaery didn't know what was happening at first. She felt warmth flood her core…his warmth. Then it seemed like a trigger effect. Suddenly her own core was quaking and trembling until suddenly it burst over her and up her spine. Margaery's eyes went wide and she cried out, her hips bucking against his as she cried out for him in pure bliss. Hannibal was proud to feel her orgasm around him. He groaned at how tightly she squeezed him as he rested his weight atop her for a moment. He then leaned down and kissed her deeply. He kept his cock fully sheathed within her as he held onto her waist. He shifted their weight and rolled them over so that she was now atop him. He pulled back from the kiss to look up into her eyes as he rolled his hips to stir their combined fluids deep within her. "As my wife I see you as my equal. Are you prepared to ride your Northern steed?" He rumbled lowly. Margaery kissed him back and moaned aloud against his lips. She chuckled as he shifted their positions so that she was atop him. "More than prepared, my dear. But it seems we've soiled the linens. Should we not have them changed?" Her blood continued to drip from her core, and from this new position she could see her blood beginning to drip along his belly. Beside them, where they had lain a mere moment before, the sheets were soaked with her blood. She didn't want him to be disgusted from her blood or any mess they created. Hannibal chuckled as he returned the kiss. "Did I wear you out already?" He teased her. Indeed he saw the blood, but his cock throbbed and twitched within her. As a Bolton he found blood to be exciting. A slow grin crossed his face. "Let us soil them some more. If we ruin the mattress no one can contest that I was the first to properly claim you." Margaery smirked at his words and his proclamation that they continue. She took his hands in hers, lacing their fingers and pinning him down to the bed. "Oh no, my love. You haven't even come close to wearing me out." Margaery smirked as she adjusted her hips and dropped down against him, taking him in deeper than he'd gotten before. Pain shot through her core but Margaery simply bit her lower lip against it. It wore away soon enough and pure pleasure burned within her. She leaned down and kissed him hard as she bounced her hips up and down over his cock. "And there will be no doubt that you are mine in turn." Hannibal was pleased to see Margaery overcome her hesitations and begin moving atop him. He growled lowly in approval at how much deeper he felt himself sink within her. "Indeed…if you push much more, I will next spill my seed directly into your womb and plant a child within you tonight," he teased her. It was also a warning that she might feel a bit of pain if he truly sank that deep within her. Margaery paused, just long enough to maintain her grip and begin circling her hips around to let him hit all of her walls. "I should like to enjoy my husband more first. But if the gods will us to have a child so soon, then so be it. I will be honored to be the mother of your heir." At that, she dropped her hips down again and took him in deep. Again she grunted in pain, but pleasure soon overwhelmed her senses. Margaery moaned out his name over and over again. Already her core squeezed even tighter around his length. Hannibal smirked as he rocked up into her with each of her drops. His cock began to flare at the tip and he felt himself approaching the brink of an orgasm rapidly. "I would enjoy being fully sheathed within you for days at a time. However, I do believe the gods will bless us quickly," he said. "Especially if you milk me this thoroughly every day." Margaery cried out softly, keeping her body just over his as she rode him. Each bounce of her hips and thrust of his cock had her crying out and her core growing tighter. "Yes, yes gods be good. We will have a child before long." She gasped as her body began to tremble. Margaery cried out as she bounced her hips to take him in deep. He hit that sweet, tender spot deep inside her that made her cry out. Sparks rushed through Margaery's body as she felt herself on the brink. "Hannibal-!" Hannibal's hands gripped her hips firmly as he grunted and growled her name lowly. He rocked up into her deeply before he once again filled her with his seed. As his seed flooded her core and filled her with heat, Margaery cried out and felt her core release all of its tension. A fluid, carnal rush overwhelmed her and Margaery pressed tight and hard against him. She was his wife, he was her husband. They would be an unstoppable pair. Hannibal held her close as they both enjoyed this moment. He had been told there was a second chamber prepared for them, just across the hall. Hannibal had requested that a bath be prepared there. He saw a water basin with towels sitting in the corner along with two robes in Bolton colors to cover them. After a few moments, he tilted her chin up to look into his eyes. He had finally softened within her and would need a few moments to be ready again. "I understand your grandmother provided us with a second chamber directly across the hall. We can wash up a bit and give the servants time to change the linens. Perhaps we will make a mess of two beds this evening." He said with a low rumble. "Unless you think that to be too much." He chuckled with a slight smirk on his face. Margaery smiled as he teased her, and she kissed him, playfully biting his lower lip before looking up to him with all the lustful fire in her eyes. "It's our wedding night, husband. We deserve to ruin as many beds as we like." She leaned up and looked down at him, daring him with her eyes. "Grandmother does think of everything. Would you be so kind as to cleanse the mess you've made of me?" Margaery laughed softly, but made no move to dismount him. Hannibal found himself greatly enjoying that dark look in her eyes. He sat up to kiss her deeply before easily lifting her off of him so that any excess of their liquids could spill out upon the sheets beneath them. He set her on one of the remaining clean spots of the bed before getting up to retrieve a clean cloth and get it wet in the washbasin. Margaery shifted to allow him to clean her off. He cleaned her front off slowly before assisting her to her feet and turning her around to clean off her pert, round ass. He tossed the ruined cloth upon the bed and gave one of those cheeks a firm squeeze. He then moved to wash himself off and left that rag in the basin. Margaery enjoyed watching him walk to the basin to clean himself off. Hannibal had such a muscular form, she could watch him walk around naked all day and not get bored. Her dark eyes studied every curve and ripple of muscle as he moved. He slipped a robe on and grabbed the second to take over to her. He draped one robe over her shoulders and wrapped his strong arms around her to hold her close. Margaery wrapped her hands around the robe as he wrapped her in it. Hannibal kissed along the side of her neck and up to nibble on her ear. "Can you walk? Or shall I carry you?" He rumbled playfully into her ear. Margaery smiled at his question and leaned back into him. It was all too easy for her, all too natural to press close to him. "I can walk but I'd much prefer to have you carry me." She laughed softly. Margaery wanted to clarify that she still had her strength, but wanted to be pampered all the same. Even if her name had changed, she had been born and raised a Tyrell. With that came the expectation of a certain level of luxury. Hannibal smirked as he scooped her up into his arms. He pulled the bell next to the door as he opened it. He then carried her to the second chamber prepared for them and left the first for the servants to clean and inspect the linens. They were just beginning their wedding night, now that formalities had been completed. Chapter 19 When morning came, Hannibal and Margaery were back in the chamber where they had first begun their wedding night. This was the third time they had been in this chamber. They had gone back and forth between the two chambers throughout the course of the night, allowing servants to come in and re-dress the beds with fresh linens each time. They had ruined the beds in both chambers multiple times in the night in their lust. Margaery had risen slowly, kissing Hannibal softly to wake him. "Love, it's morning. Grandmother will be expecting us for breakfast," she whispered, gently caressing her fingers over his chest before kissing him again. Hannibal felt Margaery stirring beside him and chuckled as he stretched slowly. He could feel his cock half hard as it always was first thing in the morning. He chuckled as he pulled her atop him and kissed her deeply. "We are up early. We have some time before breakfast yet, do we not?" He asked with a smirk. Margaery laughed as he pulled her on top of him. She straddled him, but made no move to let him inside. Margaery's hand slipped between them and she squeezed his cock playfully. "Whenever grandmother commands it," Margaery smiled before rubbing over his length. "Come now, my love – breakfast shouldn't take long, and I'd love to see how long you're able to resist taking me again." Hannibal smirked at her response. "You will be surprised at my self control." It was a dare, and before he could make her stay, Margaery stood up and selected a gown from the closet to wear to breakfast. As with most Highgarden fashion, it was rather low-cut and had an open back to show off her slender body. Hannibal allowed her to scurry off before striding to the second closet with clothes for him within it. He wore restrictive leather in an attempt to mostly hide his erection. Once they were both dressed, he offered his arm and led her to the table in the gardens for breakfast. Olenna sat at the table with Roose and Mace. She nibbled absently at a piece of melon brought on a fruit platter. Hannibal walked with his normal, confident stride and did not seem the least bit tired from the night before. He gave a bow to the Tyrells gathered there, along with his father. "Good morning," he greeted cordially. Margaery smiled and moved to sit across from her grandmother, who tilted a brow at them both. "Good morning indeed," Olenna sipped her tea. "You two seem refreshed. Tell me, young Lord Hannibal, what is the sigil of house Bolton?" Margaery tilted a brow as she set her napkin in her lap. She knew very well that her grandmother had all of the house sigils memorized. She most certainly knew that house Bolton had the flayed man as their sigil. Hannibal gave a courteous bow to Lady Olenna. "We are both still young My Lady. It only takes a few hours of sleep after a long day to recover our energy and vigor," Hannibal said as he pushed Margaery's chair into the table and sat next to her. He knew the question had a purpose, but chose to answer anyway. "Our house's sigil is that of a flayed man crucified upside down, My Lady." He answered as his hand rested atop Margaery's on the table. Olenna scoffed and looked to Roose Bolton. "Hmph, one would think that the sigil is a rabbit, given how long they were at it last night and how many times the rooms had to be cleaned." "Grandmother!" Margaery blushed. "Well child, it's the truth of it! Once there were days that you consummated the marriage once and that was that," Olenna sipped her tea. "Really now. The pair of you ruined four perfectly good feather beds in a single night." Margaery blushed darker, but couldn't help smirking and looking to Hannibal as she nibbled on a strawberry. Hannibal looked amused at her comment. He calmly took a bite of a rather juicy strawberry as he listened to her speak. He waited for her to pause. "In the North we cover our beds with animal pelts. The pelts prevent the mattresses from becoming ruined and can easily be washed the next day," he began before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Based on that tradition, perhaps the men of the South should visit the North to build up their vitality. A Northman who cannot bed his wife more than once on his wedding night is considered weak or impotent. From my experience the women from the South have the same stamina as the men of the North. Perhaps I could host some of the young men from the South to teach them how to fully fulfill their duties on their wedding night by building up their stamina." Roose gave Hannibal a look, but he did not seem upset. He agreed that men from the South were soft. Margaery blushed and bit her lower lip. She knew how many women Hannibal had bedded besides her, but her grandmother didn't. She took a biscuit from a tray and smeared sweet cream on it before taking a bite. Olenna blinked at Hannibal for a minute. Then she began laughing. "You think so? Well you're quite right on that note! Men of the South are terribly comfortable and altogether too soft for my liking. They can stand to learn a thing or two from the strong Northern houses." Mace didn't look happy to hear that, but he didn't protest his mother's remarks. Margaery took a large strawberry in hand and offered it up to feed it to Hannibal. "I for one hope you merely jest, husband. I am not thrilled of the idea of being a visual aid for men of the South to use for notes. Nor am I keen on you taking another woman, even for instructional purposes." Hannibal knew that making the Queen of Thorns laugh was quite the accomplishment. He ate the offered strawberry slowly before looking to his wife. "I am far too jealous a man for that my dear. I would intend to use a variety of fruits to demonstrate. Along with an exercise regimen to build up their stamina so that they can keep up with their wives. It must be terribly embarrassing for their wives to be left unsatisfied on their wedding night." Margaery smirked and took a slow bite from another berry. "I wouldn't know about that." She chuckled, referring to being left unsatisfied on her wedding night. Olenna snorted and took a slow sip from her tea. "Careful now, there is such a thing as speaking too much on these matters at the breakfast table." "Apologies, grandmother." Margaery took a bite of salted pork and buttery biscuit. Hannibal gave his wife the briefest of smirks as he too reached for some of the fine meat presented at the table. He noted that Mace Tyrell seemed a bit annoyed at his comments and was curious if the man had enough spine to speak his mind or not. Margaery had a hand beneath the table rested against Hannibal's thigh. She gave his leg a soft squeeze and drummed her fingers along his inner thigh towards his cock. Hannibal shifted his leg to allow her better access. He was curious how bold she would be sitting across from her father and grandmother. His cock was still quite hard from this morning and was straining at his leather confines. 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 doing. Mace did look flustered at the entire conversation thus far, 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 glare to Hannibal and pouted his lip a bit. "You've got a lot of nerve insulting Southern men when it was the efforts of a Southern man who brought you your wife!" He snapped. Hannibal gave a slight bow to Mace, "Indeed it was, and for that I am very grateful." He said. Margaery and Olenna exchanged looks as the men spoke. "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?" 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. Margaery saw how calm Hannibal was, but knew something was coming. She kept her hand on his thigh but made no movements except to give it a soft little squeeze, hoping to distract him with arousal and calm him down a bit as well. Hannibal felt the squeeze to his thigh and found it sweet that she was trying to calm him. He was not angry at the moment…he was greatly amused. 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 throughout the Seven Kingdoms. 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 in defense of himself. A slow, condescending smile crossed his face before he continued. "Three mattresses would suggest that I am quite skilled. Although, I am quite certain you heard precisely when those mattresses were ruined last night." He said in reference to how vocal Margaery had been. When Hannibal spoke so frankly, Margaery felt her face grow hot and flushed. However, 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." Hannibal 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." All the color drained out of Mace's face, and Olenna simply chuckled before taking another slow sip of her tea. Mace wasn't about to leave it at that, this was the first time in a great while he'd stood his ground, and he wasn't about to give up so easily. "Taking measures like moon tea to avoid fathering bastards has nothing to do with incurring some horrid manner of disease that you might pass on to my Margaery!" "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. She rubbed her fingers there for just a moment to tease him playfully before getting a slight glare from her grandmother. Hannibal said nothing as the Queen of Thorns put her son in his place. Roose looked bored of the entire conversation. He began speaking once the argument seemed settled. "I have received a raven from Winterfell informing me of a storm that has just recently passed through and another that is growing. We should begin our journey North sooner than we had originally planned. If we wait for longer than three days, we risk getting caught in a strong storm." 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 announcement, 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." Hannibal listened to the conversation and nodded in agreement towards Olenna. "This is the season of winter storms, My Lady. It is difficult for the ravens to fly at times. However, once the storm season has passed I assure you that I will send a raven to let you know of our plans to travel here." He promised. Hannibal 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 instead." Hannibal's promise seemed to pacify Olenna. She nodded in agreement and sipped her tea. Margaery leaned in against Hannibal and smiled up at him. Her hand remained at his thigh and she let her small finger run slowly along the underside of his balls through his leather trousers. She found that she very much enjoyed teasing him. Margaery wanted to see how far he'd allow her to push him. Gently she squeezed along his thigh. Hannibal would allow her to go as far as she could without being caught. It was very bold of her to be making such moves in front of her family. He watched as his own father finished eating and excused himself from the table to prepare the Bolton men for the return journey North. "In the meantime, we can still enjoy what time we have left here, can we not?" Margaery smiled. "You can't get fire plums like this in the North." She 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. 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 at Winterfell." Some of the juice from the fire plum dripped along Margaery's fingers and palm. Margaery licked along her hand to clean the juice. Olenna just smirked and continued eating her cheese and fruits. The pair of them seemed quite evenly matched. "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, my love?" Hannibal did not move at first when she stood and he reached for his tea cup to finish it off. He paused a long moment before answering her. "Are you certain you are finished with breakfast dear? I thought you would have been famished this morning." He said as a slight tease. He was more than ready to delve within her tight heat again, but he was not going to play so quickly into her teasing game. He was curious which of the pair of them had more patience. He slowly set his empty cup down as he looked up at her. "If you are quite satisfied, then we can begin this tour you mentioned last night." Margaery chuckled and dragged her fingers along his back. "I thought we might stop by the kitchens and take a picnic lunch with us. Surely we will work up an appetite throughout the course of the day." Margaery looked off nonchalantly and gave a little roll of her shoulders. "Unless of course you think you can't handle such a task. If you'd rather lounge about in the gardens, I understand." There was still more to this game. Just because they were leaving the table didn't mean that the game was over. Far from it. Hannibal connected the dots to understand her game now. He gave a brief nod to her, but glanced to Mace. "We should pack a hearty lunch. The grounds look quite luscious. I fear we may grow tired as we explore all of the different alcoves within the gardens." Hannibal stood slowly and turned to Margaery to offer her his arm. He led her out into the hall before nodding for her to lead the way. Margaery blushed as Hannibal spoke that way in front of her father. She took his arm and started to lead the way towards the kitchens. Margaery looked up to him with slight scolding in her eyes.

"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."

Hannibal gave a slight chuckle. "Your father will recover just fine." He promised her. *** Olenna chuckled again before looking at her pathetic son. "You will be a grandfather in seven months at the rate those two are going."