hungry for the kill

[molineux]

WHO: Margaery Tyrell & you! c:
WHAT: random dailies. pls come bug her.
WHEN: mostly Harvestmere.
WHERE: Gallows.
NOTES: lmk if you'd like something custom!

Despite Margaery’s recent development with Gwenaëlle, she can still be found around the Gallows frequently, from charming the smithy into teaching her out to best sharpen her dagger to being on the training grounds learning how to best use it. She’s come a long way from her first session, but her movements are still too graceful to be properly aggressive, and anyone who offers to help her train will find it’s easy to catch a foot and ‘help’ her tumble to the ground.

When she’s not getting her ass kicked, Margaery’s often seated somewhere in the courtyard, which makes for an excellent position to work on her embroidery and people-watch at the same time - but if she desires more privacy, the herb garden is also a good bet. Those who stop by the apothecary might also be able to see her perusing the shelves for her beauty routine purposes - and get a tip or two if they desire to ask.

Speaking of routines: if there’s anything Margaery’s particularly religious about, it’s her baths. Like clockwork, she can be found carrying buckets of water up to her room at dusk - still looking regal as hell while she does it with her straight-backed posture and all - and with a focused energy that speaks volumes of how far she’s willing to go to get properly clean. Those who wish to have a conversation at this time may find themselves also forced to follow her exercise, as she’ll only stop her process for emergencies.

Comments

[armd]

"Christ," she mutters, noticing her from across the hall; Abby did not dress for the occasion. She's wearing trousers that have dirt on them, and a dull-coloured shirt that laces up over her collarbones, hair braided loosely back. A few strands have already escaped over the course of the day: they frame her face. She gives hardly any thought to her appearance on any given day, but she's thinking about it now, and very much so.

Margaery is doing her sly princess thing again, if the curling smirk is anything to go off of. Abby regards her as she draws ever nearer, her gaze dropping momentarily to the deep cut of her dress, drinking her fill before she meets her eye. Would be rude not to indulge, right.

"What I'll do?"

She chuckles, her eyes bright. "Think I'll probably put them up on top of a high shelf."

And: already distracted. She fucking knew this was going to happen, "What's the reward? I should probably know, so I can consider all my options."

[molineux]

It's as good of an invitation to play as any, and while Margaery continues to keep an eye out for any implications of discomfort, she can't help but be delighted. Her flirtatious banter with Astarion is safe in their mutual, unspoken agreements, but this nebulous arrangement with Abby is unknown territory - something that ventures far beyond set expectations.

"Well," she says thoughtfully, appearing to be entirely serious. "I was going to offer you a kiss, but if you put the pins on top of a high shelf, I'd be most keen to get you between my legs-"

Her smile is downright smug in brief pause that follows.

"-so that you might help me retrieve it myself, seated on your shoulders."

And then it's back to wide, innocent eyes because of course that's what she meant all along. How could there be any other meaning?

"Shall we?"

[armd]

Discomforted? No, not at all. Flustered? Well...

It's so much worse when it isn't over the crystal, where she has the deniability of being able to drop her face into her hands. Here, Margaery is treated to the sight of Abby instantly caught off guard, her eyes widening slightly in the middle of that delicious pause, mouth opening in surprise.

If this is a game, she's bad at it, whereas Margaery knows exactly what she's doing even though she pretends she doesn't. Abby's never met anybody quite like her.

"... Okay," she admits, mouth curling at the corners as she considers her, eyes bright. There's a flush high along the tops of her cheekbones, "Guess I'll have to keep that in mind.

You lead the way."

[molineux]

It's self-control that keeps Margaery from winking at Abby when she turns around to lead the way, as the picture of calm confidence if it came in a backless gown. Enjoy that, Abby. And if she's wondering if the dress does come undone easily by a tug on that flashy sash, then the answer is yes, of course.

"Just out of curiosity," she asks as they begin their earnest efforts by checking behind the large stations with utensils and kitchenware. As one of the areas in the dining hall with the most detail, this is a good place to start. "What is it about this game that has you so fired up to win? Are you also addicted to coffee? Or perhaps a wine aficionado?"

She thinks she heard Abby tell someone else - Glimmer, perhaps? - what she was hoping to get, but by then, Margaery had been knee-deep in plotting with Waverly and had not split her attention enough.

Besides, it's much easier to gauge someone's honesty when they're face to face; there's no way Margaery will forget the way Abby looks when her cheekbones are colored with the soft shade of petals. She imagines her companion looked somewhat similar during their flirtatious banter over crystal and can't help her pleased smile as she rummages delicately through the silverware.

[armd]

Please. Why do you think Abby let her lead? So she can watch her go.

She's keeping half her attention on the casual rifling through the silverware just in case (forks), but otherwise Abby is content to preoccupy herself with checking the old, standing cabinets stacked full of round plates and chipped, wooden bowls. She likes that when Margaery speaks, she can hear the smile in her voice.

"I like winning," she says, simply. She's tried coffee before, and it isn't really her thing. Besides, people were so precious about it back home that it wasn't worth enjoying by halves, not considering what you had to trade in order to get your hands on it. Seattle was too wet and cold for any arabica plants to want to take. Wine was similar: fine for getting drunk off of, but Abby preferred other things.

"You? Anything in particular you've got your eye on?"

It's an innocent enough question, but... perhaps her smirk can be heard, too.