[It would surprise most, but Margaery has her moments of exoticism. She's never been one to steal tricks from the Dornish girls or from those few Essosi women that make it across the Narrow Sea, not exactly -- she'd pale in comparison, quite literally, and she knows that. They are beautiful in a way she will never be, but she can augment her own beauty in ways she learns from them or someone else and reinterprets.
It wasn't her idea to be tattooed, originally -- that was Loras, in one of his moments of flamboyance and daring, but all the younger generation of Tyrells had gone in for it, even timid Alla. Some opted for the smallest of roses, little flowery kisses on tummies or ribs where they'd be hidden at any respectable moment. Margaery, never one to do things halfway, had her rose taking up the curve of her hip and thigh, unapologetic. If anyone ever saw it, they would already be too close to her to complain, and she's always had a gaudy, decorative streak.
She expected to protect that rose like a metaphor for virtue, keeping it hidden from the watchful, judging eyes of men and tattling ladies, until passing it off as youthful indiscretion to whatever man she wound up bedding for politics. It is something of a surprise -- and a joyous one -- to now be reclining on pale sheets, observing as Sansa is the one to take it in.]
no subject
It wasn't her idea to be tattooed, originally -- that was Loras, in one of his moments of flamboyance and daring, but all the younger generation of Tyrells had gone in for it, even timid Alla. Some opted for the smallest of roses, little flowery kisses on tummies or ribs where they'd be hidden at any respectable moment. Margaery, never one to do things halfway, had her rose taking up the curve of her hip and thigh, unapologetic. If anyone ever saw it, they would already be too close to her to complain, and she's always had a gaudy, decorative streak.
She expected to protect that rose like a metaphor for virtue, keeping it hidden from the watchful, judging eyes of men and tattling ladies, until passing it off as youthful indiscretion to whatever man she wound up bedding for politics. It is something of a surprise -- and a joyous one -- to now be reclining on pale sheets, observing as Sansa is the one to take it in.]
Are you surprised, sweetling?