Maegor's Holdfast was a good place, more than many, to call a secure holdout. It was difficult to enter, difficult to exit. It was guarded well, and since the Red Keep had been cleansed, it seemed like like the place was calming down, the fight entering the afternoon, and the noise of fire outside. Garland had not seen it, but the reports were thick and thin. The walls were aflame, two gates were left open, and the Crakehalls were divided. Part of them were inside, part of them were out. The Reachman force had been taken of almost a third of it's force...and half the Crakehalls were dead, or running. The odds looked better, and better. Though...Garland still did not like it at all. The report of Rhaenyra and Baela heading South-West was a worrysome one...towards the Stormlands, or what? The Stepstones?

Garland had been left with only his Tyrell guard and a few other nobles in the city that had chosen to stay, and it seemed that the order to get the others back to the holdfast was coming through. Yet on the reclined chair, Garland feeling only a little better after having some food, he knew there was much to think of. Maybe Baela was right.....the more he thought of it, the more it felt a little real. She was perhaps wrong about it all, that maybe he was just a boy, a boy that could be fixed. Yet...the memory of those purple eyes staring into him were different than Baela's. They seemed truly a little devoid of logical thought, they seemed far too weathered, far too young, and this in itself was a cause of madness, Garland thought. He had never been protected, looked after, cared for.

Hers seemed like a warrior's, a great woman, a woman that felt like she truly sat as a real Targaryen with a true fire that knew when to be bold, when to really make a move. And Aerys's....it did not sit with that greatness. He was a boy, and he was a boy that was making poor decision after poor decision, not acting in his own interest, not acting in his allies interest, and certainly relying on luck. In his own head, Garland could guess the relative calm inside the Holdfast was good, and it had given him time to think. Time to ponder, what the hell to do. 

The Reach served the Targaryens loyally, unfaithfully, and Garland always knew it was the answer, to give it their all for the true King, the son of Daenys Targaryen, who did deserve the crown. Yet Baela's case was strong..what if he was another Aerys the Mad, another boy that did not know his mannerisms, and from his stares and actions, he seemed to not act at all his age. He seemed strange, aloof, and most of all, a King that did not have the strength to do what he had to. Bravery could only get you so far. Wisdom took wounds like these to learn, Garland thought to himself. Aerys did not unify his Kingdoms, as much as Garland as Hand did not...perhaps Dorne would listen, but if the Crakehalls spouted the word of the Red God, they would not be the most trustworthy ally to have, not after the conflicts in the Torrentine Range. As for the Riverlands and The Vale, it was completely uncertain. 

It was at that moment that one of Garland's guards entered, Mern putting the visor of his helm up.
"Lord Garland. " He bowed, as Garland nodded.
"Ser Willas is heading out with the Kingsguard, but before he left, he gave me this rose to give to you." The guard left it on the table, as Garland sat up further in the chair. He could walk soon...he still felt weak in his legs, and even being carried here by Footly and Bar Emmon was a difficulty, he had to restore it somehow. Taking the Rose, he looked over it. Yet a note sat inside it's petals, as he plucked it out.

Reading it to his head, he didn't even know. This was not good news...yet it was. Somehow it confirmed things in his head, yet it didn't. Where she was going, what she was doing, what she intended, what she felt....maybe this was something. He had to think. Garland knew that whatever he did, it would last like blood on sand, it would not fade, it would stay, and that the right thing for family had to be done. He sighed to himself, as he shook his head. Only their own path was clear, and Garland could guess that he had to make some very questionable decisions now. 

The thorns had to emerge, and now, they had to play their objective home. Ideas were futile without power, and no doubt, even if the Crakehalls burnt, the city would not hold long to the common folk. He had been nervous about it for a while, but he had an idea now for where he had to go and where his people would go, one that would at the very least, create an air of confusion. A regular fight would be long and hard, but as for Gerald Crakehall and his merry band, they would have been cut down, and no doubt, the city was in anarchy. It was no place to stay, and while Garland had mooted playing Aerys's Hand a little longer, it was no longer worthwhile in the complete lack of a political environment that existed...his power was completed for his return, and Willas could handle Aerys's tuition and current position as he could. Garland had to leave, as much as he hated the idea, and he had to regroup with the rest of the Reach, to give Aerys his power, while sorting a few other things out too. 

The city could be left to eat itself alive, and no doubt, would be left ravaged. The flames still burnt on the walls, and nobody was coming in, nobody was leaving, and if they did, they were going through two very tight gates indeed...and whatever was left was stuck in rout, with no visible reinforcements to know of. A Reachman force couldn't chase that and completely destroy it in the valley of the Blackwater Rush...but Garland knew that there were others that could, very well do that...though he hadn't even told Alerie as of yet what it would yield. Aerys had to leave too, for Dragonstone, and the rest of the Reachmen inside, well, he had choices to make with them. Aerys being safe elsewhere seemed a priority, while the city was going to destroy itself, and it would at least protect Drogon far better than the pit would right now. Some of it had occured to Garland as being the only way out, either of staying neutral with Baela, or fighting a hard war that would yield nothing but a potentially mad King, and people viewing Garland with contempt. It felt like the third way, it felt like a way to do something that at least kept the family powerful...while giving them the assets they needed. Much of it, he did not want to think too clearly on, but all he could see, was that he needed to 

"Everyone, let's get out of here. Sreas, get Boberto up. We're vastly outnumbered here by maniacs with axes. At the big castle over there we may have a chance," Alyssa shouted, pointing towards the large Red Keep, looming over Flea Bottom. Sreas pulled Boberto onto his feet, still grinning that creepy sinister grin of his even in all the chaos. The twenty of them slowly stumbled, tripped, and swore their way up the road towards it.

As the last Stormguard ran through the huge gates, two others heaved upon it until it was securely closed. Alyssa released the pent-up breath she had been holding for the last sprint up the hill. Then she looked around at the scene around her. They were in a cavernous courtyard, leading to a large door, possibly leading to a throne room. Despite this, the hall seems rather unnervingly silent and devoid of people.

"This way. Come on, we're not completely safe here," muttered Alyssa, gesturing in a direction she hoped would lead further into the castle. The Stormguards began winding their way through the many halls of the Red Keep, and with some intuition and a few very annoying "I told you so"s from Boberto the ended up in the Lower Bailey, gazing upon the bridge leading to Maegor's Holdfast.

Alyssa barged through the door. "Anyone here can stitch a wound?" she asked with urgency in her voice.

The guards drew swords, but recognized Alyssa quickly, as Garland looked over, chuckling.
"These men can, they've done it for me!" Garland gave a hearty laugh, as he looked at the Stormlander, nodding confidently, as a couple of the Tyrell guards attended to the man, Boberto being taken over towards a bed, a Maester that was also taking shelter in the Holdfast walking over.

"Great, this way," Alyssa said, rushing back out of the room. She waved Sreas over, and he dragged the strangely quiet Boberto into Maegor's Holdfast.

"I think he's passed out from the blood loss," Sreas commented, smiling ear to ear.

Alyssa turned her head to face Garland. "What's going on? Why are there pigmen running around, killing anything they see? Where's Rhaenyra Targaryen?"

Garland looked up, coughing a little, as he shook his head.
"You saw it, I didn't. Those dragons of the Targaryens set fire to the walls and gates, all apart from the northern gates. It's going to burn for days, and thousands upon thousands of men are now dead." Garland coldly said, shaking his head.

"They left, Alyssa. Rhaenyra and Baela. They are going somewhere, that is not Westeros. Gave us a chance to do what we can to solve our Kingdoms, and they seem to want something else." Garland simply said to her, sipping some water down, as he motioned for her to sit down.

"You're a hell of a fighter, I hear Lady Baratheon. When this all dies down, we should spar....but as for now, I would tell you that those Boars are running. The people will not be happy, and there will be unrest, serious unrest. It will become every man for himself soon, and I know you and I are not safe here in this city. Aerys neither. We have not won any battle, we have merely pissed the smallfolk off, torched a few thousand men, and broken the rest. They'll run, and we'll be hit by fucking peasants. Best we do something...different." Garland added, clearing his throat once more.

"We need to keep you safe, Seven Hells, look at me. You can't follow my fate. So I suggest we do something that wins us a war. Play our hand in leaving, fighting from the south against the Westerlands, on a strong base...your Kingdom's rebellion crushed, and in return, your forces free to fight. And perhaps with you a seat on my council. Hmm..Master of Soldiers....I would think a Lady such as yourself would greatly befit that title, regardless of what any man may say." Garland added, chuckling, half serious in his suggestion. The long brown-haired Tyrell did seem to still hold his provincial, charming nature, even in a shitty situation like this, it would appear, though his thoughts were clearly on the matter at hand.

Alyssa couldn't help but chuckle a little. "You Tyrells never stop talking, do you? Very well. Do you know any ways out of this keep? Luftum, get the men ready." There was no answer. "Luftum? Where is Luftum?"

"Careful, my Lady. We can't be too fast. It's not that which I worry for, we can find our way out easily enough. I will meet Aerys before leaving, and once I have established what is going on, I'll have Willas deal with the city itself again. Aerys would be a fool to not take my advice, and go. I thought it would be wise to stay...well, we stand nothing here, and we have done all we have needed to. Now we have a war to win." Garland added, shaking his head as he clutched his rose, the rose from Baela. He didn't even show the message, keeping it close, and with the writing small, it couldn't be seen..
"And no, we don't stop.....if you don't mind me, I'm Hand of the King, and paranoid that you'll die, my sister will die, my men will die, or I'll die. And as it is, we've all come close enough for now. So I have to apologize for that, Lady Baratheon. I guess we have much to talk of, and very, very little time." He added, as he sipped some water down.
"Tell me, you're acutely aware of just how many people want Gris deposed, correct? I would put it in the realms of tens of thousands...poorly armed, poorly prepared, but angry, angry peasants. Think on what we have here, and tell me, you know I have my end of the deal to keep."

"He's my brother. I don't care if the whole world wants his head," Alyssa responded, curtly. "We have a deal. The Tarths for the Rebellion."

Garland nodded in his position, knowing she was right.
"And you'll have that, Alyssa. The men of Tarth are soon going to fall under Willas's command, and he'll know where to send them, to utterly break every Crakehall. If they rout, they cannot fight. They sweep up the mess. As for the Stormlands, we will help you deal with it, both with a set of mercenaries that are currently in the Narrow Sea, and the men of the Reach. Lord Belgrave Tarly is one of our finest commanders, and he'd enjoy putting the western vassals of the Stormlands back into your hands...I'd be able to give the order within days, and he could do more damage to that rebellion than any equivelent I know in sheer manpower. The decision is, how far you will go, Alyssa." Garland quipped to her, as he asked her inteligently.
"Kill the whole Kingdom of the Stormlands, and you won't have grain, men, or power left. And that leads us to the Kingdom of Dorne wanting to spread it's faith, farther and further. You must destroy this revolt quickly, and it is mutual for all of us that you do. Reachmen will not be taken well in your Kingdom...not unless they stop a greater evil than a revolt itself. Give them some of their demands, I mean, what is it they want, Alyssa? They want a Lord that cares, food, wine, and stabillity. The Reach needs no change because of that. If they want representation...then give them as little power as you can get away with. Then return to our wars, and you'll not need worry about how many want your, or Gris's head. It'll hurt, but tell me, what other future do you see? One where we send in the whole armies of The Reach, and we are in a constant war? Against almost two-thirds of your Kingdom?" 

"You're right. What we need is for the kingdom to put their faith in the nobles once again. However, there is a problem. The Stormlands has remained arguably neutral for the last 80 years. We haven't had any fighting between us and any other kingdom, thanks to my grandfather and father. I wouldn't suppose you have a conveniently evil entity for us to defeat?" Alyssa answered.

"A convenient evil entity...well, that would be the Crakehalls, wouldn't it?. This alliance is far more than just soldiers, Alyssa. Do not think we aren't willing to give you something bigger." Garland said, knowing exactly his thoughts on this. It was true- the 60,000 men in The Reach were mobilizing likely, and heading for Highgarden, to then attack either King's Landing or the Westerlands. By then, Garland could be home, and at least able to mount a steed and join his soldiers in the field. The idea itself was one that seemed to play well in Garland's head...it worked well to keep them in their place, and no doubt, with a change in a political sphere, would come the Stormlands looking at the Reach in some protection, grain and yield. Whilst of course, stopping any of the anarchy spreading, and the Stormlander men joining the war, on the side of the Reach. It was a logical move to make, and not a stupid one. It was calculated, and cunningly planned, one that would drive House Tyrell with an ally, giving them more time to breathe, more time to wield some poltical clout, and an additional frontier that would protect the capital.

"You need power, and once you deliever a blow from two sides against the revolt, you can call the shots. Cull their power, and give them a little to stop it entirely in it's tracks, restoring the nobles to you. If Gris doesn't do it, then you must. Then, you can do what you wish, and if Gris wishes to be his tinkering self, then he can be, while his Kingdom is run for him, and you continue our alliance to help us uphold Aerys Targaryen. War will put their minds at ease. Do what you must, Alyssa." 

"I understand. You have shared necessary wisdom with me, and I appreciate it," Alyssa said, trying to finish the conversation. "Now how do you propose we get out of this deathtrap and back to our respective kingdoms?"

"Well...there's no more Crakehalls blocking the route to the port. I would imagine...it wouldn't be too difficult. Well then, you best get a different ship, and sail for Tarth, as it's safe. I'll sail out soon...but we don't need to discuss specifics. I'll make my way there." The Reach Lord said, as he brushed hair from his pretty face once more, nodding.
"The Redwyne Fleet is half-deployed there, so I can't imagine it'll be a problem. It was good to talk to you, and glad to see of your safety, Lady Baratheon." Garland said, as he sat up in his chair a little more, knowing that they were done with buisness now, and that Alyssa had at least had a chance to hear what he thought. 

Alyssa turned to face her guards. "Everyone to the port. If Luftum doesn't show up, we're leaving him behind." She bowed quickly to Garland, and left him in Maegor's Holdfast.

Alyssa was gone quickly, brashly, in and out, like a real Stormlander. She had heart, and Garland respected that, she had more balls than his brother ever did, that much the Reachman knew. They just dealt with problems tactfully, and didn't act slowly, jumping to conclusions, dealing with it as it came in a manner that perhaps House Tyrell did. It was admirable, even Garland knew that it was straight to the point, yet it was a complicated situation from Storm's End outward, and that it would still be a long process. Still, there was much he could do in the coming time, and his mind was now set on dealing with the problems of the Realm, bit by bit, and doing his task. Leaving was a difficult choice, but it would yield a set of Kingdoms for Aerys to rule, and the faithful Tyrells by his side, just like they had been for the Gardeners in the time of the Reach Kings. Everyone always forgot that history, they only thought of House Tyrell as upstart...but they always, always forgot that history. Crakehall, Targaryen, Baratheon, Stark, even the old Lannister, they forgot the story, they forgot the way that a rise to power occured. And Garland knew it would never repeat, not until the sun set in the west and the seas dried again. But the Game of Thrones had changed, and the King on the seat was not a man that Garland ever wished to be...that sharp pointy seat belonged to someone else, and the power around it to the people that gave that King his practical right to rule. 

(working in unity with [@kingkonrad])