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[h1][b][color=FFD700][center]Approaching Queenstone[/center][/color][/b][/h1]
[img]http://awoiaf.westeros.org/images/c/c4/The_stepstones_by_jcbarquet.jpg[/img]

The ship had been sailing for at least another night and half a day, and Garland had slowly gotten to his senses, walking a little more, forcing himself to begin to get to grips with it. His long curled hair had finally decided to regrow a little since he had it trimmed after his injury, and his face, when exposed to the sun, took on less of a pale shade, coming back to it's usual tone. They were visibly close to the island, and it was barely an hour away, the rocky forms of the island coming closer, and closer.

The Lord Paramount had a lot on his mind, and since obtaining new supplies in Tarth and a set of letters that had come in from Loras, regarding the situation back home, things seemed rather interesting. As had been expected from King's Landing, Loras had raised the banners, or at least given the letter out, and in particular, Lord Belgrave Tarly was expected to be taking their command, in the aftermath of the Battle of the Kingswood. Belgrave was a ruthless and masterful soldiering type, and Garland even remembered after writing to him about the squabbles on the Dornish border, that the response had practically disregarded his liege Lord's command. They lived for it, and the Dornishmen kept their prowess up to shape, in the Torrentine. As much as House Dayne liked to deny it, they enjoyed fighting the Tarlys, be it in a real war or not. Now, there appeared to be one, and the earlier the Reach mobillized, the faster a Westerman threat could be dealt with. And in times of war, the Tarlys would do well in running the Reach as a war camp, and with no Garland to lead the forces, Belgrave was the man that people would naturally look to for a war.

On that front, things looked good, and news of Rickard getting ready for setting off to Oldtown for further tuition had come through, which didn't entirely suprise Garland. The realm was in good shape, and it seemed that in the aftermath of a good summer, the harvest collected, people were content enough to hold loyal to their Lords. 

In her quarters, Alerie sat quietly, working with a needle and thread on a portion of her dress, thinking to herself. Her brother wasn't that smart, but he had enough knowledge to know what he was doing wasn't going to get him killed. Any Rose that played with dragons, however, was a Rose that could very quickly find itself in a dangerous place. And she knew that well that Baela was the more uncontrolled of the two, a little more vicious and a little more venomous than the conservative and controlled Rhaenyra. It made sense, however, for Garland to opt for the younger of the two sisters. Alerie knew that Rhaenyra was the Queen of these Isles, and that it could play havoc with inherritance, if Garland's sons and daughters were to become the Lords of these isles....not a Targaryen. Matrilineal continuation was not possible, not with a Lord Paramount, not with the main branch line of the Tyrells down to Garland, Alerie and Rickard. And in King's Landing, the decision he had made was an interesting one. It could work, but Alerie would have personally wrapped Theo in more webs to stop him from making any stupid decisions.

The ship made it's way closer and closer to the dock, the sight of Targaryen soldiers from the Northern Crownlands visible. They wore grey scalar armour, with the naval helms that the Targaryens seemed to adore, Garland thought to himself. He didn't look like much, but he was standing, and he was, at the very least, here to present. The fighting was still raging, but this was a Targaryen port.

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[h1][b][color=FFD700][center]Highgarden[/center][/color][/b][/h1]
[center][img]http://netdna.webdesignerdepot.com/uploads6/got/tyrell.jpg[/img][/center]


The Council Chamber had emerged to be called to order once more, and the people that were seated were slightly different to the ones that had been present three weeks ago. It was a council of signifciance, with a number of high-ranking Lords, that were already used to advising and running Garland's homeland, The Kingdom of the Reach. The realm being at war, it made sense that they stayed here, and ran things. For a start, Loras Hightower-Tyrell sat at the helm of the table as Castellan and the most senior individual, effectively the Hand. Adjacent to the middle-aged Castellan was Lord Arthur Redwyne, the Master of Coin, the older red-rosed Lord looking across at the other figures that were here with his green and red tunic. 

Ser Mern Garrett, the Master of Ships, was a Knight from the household of the Redwynes who originally came from Oldtown sat next to him, and opposite from Ser Garrett was Lord Paxter Peake as Master of Laws. Paxter and Mern seemed simularly dressed, in light grey and gold garnments, Paxter Peake being around his late thirties. Further along was Lady Tyrell, namely, Lyanna Tyrell, and her presence here was one that seemed particularly unusual, though it perhaps had standing that she was the most significant of the Tyrell household to at least attend one of these meetings, dressing her usual attire. 

Maester Davos, the new Maester of Highgarden sat opposite her, and at the other end of the table in his robes, sat Lord Belgrave Tarly, an indvidiual who most of the Council were particularly looking at, knowing that the matters at hand that they had come to discuss were primarily to do with the bloody wars to come. Beside Belgrave stood his personal guard, for some reason he had decided he would bring them to the council meet, all of them rather seedy and large, except for Lord Protector Osmund Rutland, a man of a noble house that Belgrave had just created to serve as the commanders of his personal guard. Rutland was lowborn, and it was obvious, he continuously spat to the ground and cracked at his joints. He was wirey, in both body and hair, his head a mess of hair that appeared less like hair and more like a small cloud that appeared above his head, a pox-scarred face and a bulbous nose, he stared at the others around the table with a small smirk, cracking at his knuckles and relaxing his posture. He was the only one at the table in chainmail, which he wore under a white surcoat, styled with a red dog's head.

Loras sat up in his chair, looking across at the council, knowing that they had all had the chance to have something to drink, and the chance to at least take it in. The Great Hall of Highgarden was large, and it suited a council like this, a little differently to how the Smal Council in King's Landing would meet in the Tower of the Hand, the whitewashed walls making the torches on the walls light the room up bright, alongside the windows that sat across the top of the walls at the front of the hall.

"We still have no letters from Lord Tyrell, but we know that he is alive and well, as is his sister, and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. As for the King, information has reached us that he is in poor health, following the Crakehall attack of the city." Loras started, as he looked across at the council, a short adress to start things off, as he cleared his throat.
"The reports suggest that the dragons Visaxes and Jadefyre were responsible for turning the tide of the battle, though at a terrible cost of lives. The battle was won, and the Crakehalls are in rout, towards the Riverlands and home. They lost a significant quantity of men, and momentum." Loras began, as Arthur nodded, alongside Ser Garrett and Lord Peake, as Lyanna quietly looked on. Loras was stating facts. He wasn't stating realities, was he now? She hated the bastard, he really was an oaf. It was amazing his wife wasn't doing more work than he was, actually, she probably ran his Lordship for him. No, she would stay quiet, for now she said to herself. There were better arguements to pick, the wise Lady Tyrell thought to herself.

"We expect King Tyget isn't pleased." With that, Loras gave off a slight chuckle, as Redwyne looked across, to retort.
"It isn't all he has, Lord Loras. There's more Crakehalls where they came from. And the Iron Isles are raiding our shores once more."
"Indeed, they sacked Blackcrown....fucking defiant bastards. The Redwyne Navy couldn't keep up. I wouldn't imagine they want to go that far again, our navy'll better them if they pick an open fight." Ser Garrett added, as Peake looked across.
"And you know they will not make that mistake again. As for the Crakehalls then, what are we to do, Lord Loras?" Peake asked, as Loras nodded, looking over.
"We called the banners. The moment they stabbed our Liege, we are committed to a war with them. And that is why Lord Belgrave is here." Loras simply added, looking at the other end of the table, towards the Tarly who seemed to have a presence here. 

Belgrave raised an eyebrow in Lord Hightower-Tyrell's direction, his teeth slightly showing as his lip raised into an odd grimacing frown. He patted a hand against the pommel of his blade, crossing his legs noisily. "Aye, I'm no good for anything else it seems, I'd much rather be home with my cousins and grandchildren..." He winked at Lord Redwyne, still frowning.
"...But I have no able commanders left, so I am forced to do it myself, aye, I'll lead the armies, but this is the first I've heard of this, I'm unprepared to lead currently with my levies unraised." He looked back at Loras, leaning into the table.
"What are our plans currently? I'd be well willing to show how much of an idiot you are, but right now I have to trust you to have something worth my time." He rubbed at his eyes.
"If not, as I expect the case to be, than I guess we'll just work it out in a minute or two, because that's how war planning works, we just say the word, and it'll be so. Hah." His eyes opened wide and then closed again, only to open into a glare.
"What'll it be, Lord Loras?"

Loras nodded, looking over, sighing a little. Belgrave's commanding presence did have a way with words, but then again, all Tarlys always seemed to. Even he knew that. Belgrave was commanding in his word, and in his doing, and bringing him back from The Arbor was going to come with this, as Loras looked across the table, Arthur looking over at Belgrave. Bastard had the kids that he had been tutoring for a while, taken with him on the ship and then the horses back to Horn Hill....he was protective of his family, he had to give him that, but it was the same protection as it was in The Arbor.

"The Crakehalls will want to repeat something, they will want to defend Tyget Crakehall to the last man, surely! And I wouldn't imagine Lord Garland would want us sitting around, doing nothing!" Loras said, as he cleared his throat, sitting up further, his hands on the table.
"We have options, and many of them involve killing Crakehalls, before they decide to either attack a beleagured King's Landing, or worse still, the very Kingdom of the Reach itself. And we are here to make that decision." Loras replied, as he looked back at Belgrave.
"We raise the banners and hold our soil, then we take their land. Put this "King" in his place. End this war before winter." Loras said, as Arthur nodded, looking across.

"Aye, we would indeed outstrip their capabillities, the soldiers know this land, they know where they would come from, how they would attack. They would be fools to attack, and this is Tyget Crakehall we are talking about...the man is a cunning individual indeed."
"Cunning enough to pick a fight with dragons and trueborn Targaryens." Ser Garrett sarcastically remarked, as Lyanna chuckled briefly, quietly almost.
"Indeed. Tyget Crakehall may be wise, but he doesn't know his wisdom from his madness. It would be preposterous to invade. Even if we have no dragons or trueborn Targaryens...it would be the end of his living. He doesn't know when he is beaten, bold men do that too." She said, her voice bold when it had to be, Lyanna knowing full well that she had to make the comment, amongst this debate of fools. She looked at Belgrave, and it was almost for a second, she had his spotlight, speaking with her wisdom and knowledge, a certain voice coming out that said what she had to.
"Lord Belgrave, I would imagine that our council is still in decision. We have banners availible to you that are rallying, from Torrentpeak to Ashford. Tens of thousands of men, setting up camp outside our white walls, and my nephew who has a gaping wound in his side, with your son also dead, and many of our beloved Lords too. The sparks have been lit, and we cannot be blind to the fires anymore. So, if you have war plans, do tell." 

Belgrave was impressed, Lyanna was using her words in a way he could never understand, intrigues and the Highgarden court upset him, Lyanna's tactless reference to his son's death was much less impressive, and Belgrave growled behind his hands. Belgrave had not exactly thought of a real plan of action, but he seemed to be aware of something the others were not. "That's all good, but my other son went to Lord Footly's lands to negotiate a marriage, but all we found was burning and dead bodies, he and his guards checked into the woods, and all he found was more death, including the knight of Griffon's Roost, that's very unusual by itself, but when he approached the castle, no-one responded, unless Tyget somehow got very sneaky very fast, we have a third party to worry about, and if they're burning our lands, it's probably best that we do something about it, or we can sit here and wait for the Crakehalls to invade what's left of our kingdom, as Loras would prefer, also, Lyanna, very impressive use of words, though please be more tactful when referring to my son, in fact, I would prefer if you did not mention him." He pulled at his jaw, twisting at his neck.
"I'd also prefer a 'sorry for your loss' or something of the sort, though apparently your fathers never taught you lads anything of manners, ask Lord Redwyne, I at least told him that I was taking his children along with me, that's polite, or would you prefer I simply told you all what I truly felt?" Belgrave never raised his voice, but was still stern voiced and tranquil in his red-faced anger.

Lyanna interuppted him quickly, looking across at Belgrave, the wise Tyrell seemingly aware of what she'd done. A slight oversight in her manner, one that seemed cold and stern, but one that could find itself remedied perfectly with the right timing.
"We are sorry for your loss, Lord Belgrave. Torwin fought well as a Commander of the Reach, he did the duty that he serves to protect all of our interests in the capital. But let the focus be on how we deal with the Crakehalls." She simply said to him, a cold yet shutting stare from Lyanna's eyes looking across, as Loras looked over, and Arthur Redwyne also. The latter held his tongue, and he was not pleased with Belgrave, yet he didn't want to stir anything, not when Lyanna had him to account, Loras clearing his throat.
"Lord Footly, or Owain of Tumbleton, is still in King's Landing. He doesn't know yet, not with the siege only being broken. As for the North-East, we must be careful. Whoever this is will anger the Crakehalls too, if they are doing the same to their lands." Loras said, as Arthur nodded.

"Agreed, it is a danger. So, they need to be dealt with too." Arthur added, looking at Belgrave, with a sheer look on his face, one that seemed to not want to be provoked any more than needed. His sons were getting tutored well in swordsmanship, and the fact that they were at Horn Hill, not at home where they were comfortable, did irritate him.
"If as they say, the Crakehalls are watching our armies, then we must be careful. They could easily strike at massed movement....perhaps this is all a ruse. In our lands, we know where they go, but in theirs, they are the controllers of the game." Paxter said, as Loras looked across.
"Yes, that is true in itself. But the Crakehall threat is still an existant one. And as for the fate of Garland and Alerie, we are yet to know when they write back to us. No doubt Garland will be able to make sense of this better than any of us will, but we can only do what we know to hold these Westermen from our lands." Loras said, as Lord Redwyne looked over at Belgrave.
"So, if you suggest action then Lord Belgrave, how do we go about it? And what of the Roseroad, if it is under threat?"

Osmund Rutland cracked his shoulder and spat upon the table, resting an elbow next to where Belgrave was sitting. He leaned into Belgrave and they whispered back and forth. Belgrave finally nodded and Rutland returned, rolling his thin shoulder. "The Roseroad is fine, why should we care as to it's safety, King's Landing is fine, and there's nothing we need that we can't get from our own lands, you're all just being paranoid, Lord Rutland here has a suggestion that he wishes to make, as I've already spoken my piece, do not mind him, he's a peasant by birth, he's smarter than he lets on." Belgrave stood up and motioned for Rutland to step forewards. The man ran a spit-covered hand through his thinning hair, standing before the council with a relaxed smile. "Aye then? I'm good? Alright." He ran his hands together. 

"So *Spit* I suggest that we do something brutal, show Tyget what we're made of ah? I'd think we'd do well to do something to scare 'im, maybe take one of the captives we took and hang 'em from the gallows, chop 'em into pieces and send them to him under a peace banner, sure, the folk we send had better be fast runners, but I doubt that Tyget would want a part of Lord Belgrave's justice if we'd got hold of 'im. It's a good idea ah? I'm not no strategist, but I think we'd do well to make their armies dread us, or you all'd just prefer to mumble and moan about the threat." He shrugged.

"I really can just say whatever I want ah?" He asked to Belgrave, who looked directly at Loras and nodded. Osmund spat and chuckled.
"You 'eard about this thing they found in Southoryos? It's called a Slow Loris, kinda accurate ah?" He laughed, and Belgrave joined him.
"You, Lord Redwyne, your sigil's a bunch of grapes innit? Smaller than your naughty bits or same size? You're all lords ah? Good for you, but I can say whatever the hell I want, I can say what Lord Belgrave doesn't want to, and I think you're all a bunch of fools, a whole bunch of fools." He laughed loudly, a cackling and low thing.

Arthur pushed his chair back, and was about to bark, as Loras stood and stopped him, putting his hand on his shoulder, looking sternly at Rutland, then Belgrave.
"Belgrave, this is unacceptable behaviour! What on earth..." Arthur said, staunch, as his words faded into nothing, his quiet anger stopped dead by something not lounder, but far more significant.

"Enough." The words did not come from either of their lungs. It came from Lyanna. She looked at them, shaking her head.
"Look at you. There's good reason Garland keeps this realm together. Bloody bickering." She said, grimacing, as she looked at Belgrave.
"The Yunkish Slavers have stolen and taken many a thing that is not nailed down by Crakehall Keep and further north, and kept their word. The Iron Islanders will want a response after they single-handedly murdered Lord Greyjoy. Our Lord is wounded, and we are on the verge of war. And you fools bicker. Seven Hells." She sighed, looking at the Master at Arms again.
"Tyget knows blood, as do you. Do whatever you think will work. He won't stop if you do that, as he would do the same to us. Not until you destroy everything he has. His pride, his Kingdom, his family, and then him. Only then, do you prove the point. Remove everything he has." She added, sighing.

"Belgrave, do what you have to. Paranoia will save our capital if it has to as well. While my nephew may be good with a sword, it makes sense that we hold the pivot of power before they do. No divisions, but one hard strike. Loras?" Lyanna looked across, weary, almost angered at the fact that these fuckers could not make a decision, and Loras seemed to only be back in control. Lyanna did not like this, but it was clear, very easily so, that she seemd to have a matrilineal abillity to speak and think, not like Loras, but to just speak beyond the lies. It felt like she barely even struck her knowledge out to make her point, and when it happened, the look on Loras did not seem to enjoy being put to such an undermining approach.
"Of course, Lady Tyrell. We would do whatever it took. Lord Belgrave will lead the forces, if and when the Crakehalls invade, and we will do what you say to this 'King'. And I insist, Belgrave ought to have a word with his guard for that behaviour." Loras said, knowing that it was something that had to be said, a gentle murmur from Arthur, Paxter and Davos.

Osmund spat. "That's [i]Lord[/i] guard to you, ser, please, show a little respect." Belgrave shook his head.
"Aye milady, I shall do as you ask, I just wonder why Tyget would set upon us knowing the superior power of the Reach. I am also in no place to discipline Lord Rutland, considering he is a lord in his own right, married to Lord Redwyne's daughter."

Arthur barked, there was no other word for it, the Redwyne insulted at the very best.
"LORD BELGRAVE! What is this madness!" He stood again, as Lyanna looked over.
"You don't know power, Belgrave. Even ours." She didn't even give him the title of Lord, well, she hadn't prior, to almost any of them.
"It is belief that you can have something that gives you power. Crakehall wants that, and he things us weak, divided. We want power, and we rely on number, and our beliefs too. Like you demonstrate now. You won't know that belief entirely that he has, that people like Tyget have. But the only thing you can do, is take it from him. Then, he is at your mercy. He would set upon us, or King's Landing, whatever he shall do, he will want Reachmen to bleed. More sons, daughters, farmers, soldiers, to die. Unless you do it to them. Shame really." She added, sighing, looking as Arthur stood, completely bemused, angry, and stolen in his anger.

"I don't think I have a place at this meeting. You men, talking of your marriages, and war. I think Rickard is about to leave, so I will say my goodbyes. I shall let you talk it over. Don't kill each other." She added, standing as she did so at the end. Her handmaiden, Alice took her goblet of water from the table, as Lyanna headed towards the door.
"Lady Tyrell, you don't have to leave just yet..."

"No, suit yourselves. I am sure you know your business." And with that Lyanna was around the corner and out of the hall, leaving Arthur stood and Loras looking at him. Arthur continued.
"Lord Belgrave, you did this without my permission! I did not consent to this!" Lord Redwyne was not pleased, not in the slightest, as he shook his head, looking at the Master at Arms.
"First my children, now my daughter wed? Could you ever think to ever ask?" He added, the Lord of The Arbor clearly a little more than ticked off, at this insult that Belgrave had practically presented him.

Belgrave was very pleased, now that Lyanna had left, with her had left any chance of another dominating the council, now Belgrave could spread his elbows. "I did not ask who my daughter wished to marry, she came to me with swollen belly and a letter of apology from your court, I found it cathartic to return the favor, now just to return the favor to Lord Tyget and I can die with no regrets. Disregarding any prior plans, I believe that we should do as Lord Rutland says, but I also believe that we should occupy Crakehall itself, it may provide a base in the westerlands to hold the enemy against, a siege is harder to win than a battle, but a defender in a siege has more power than a defender in a battle, and holding Tyget's own ancestral home would be cause enough to bring his wrath upon us, while defending Highgarden would only lead to him burning his way around the whole Reach, the third party plans remain as is, and of course, my lords, I have more than prepared for Tyget's captivity once the war is won." Rutland walked up to Lord Redwyne, nearly meeting the man's nose with his own.
"I felt no need to ask, considering she came for her bedding wet and willing, and her time spent around me during our journey to Horn Hill had already spent her virginity ah? You understand, women are lustful as they say, but your daughter was something else, it was impossible to avoid her." He popped at his shoulder and spat upon the ground.
"So I stopped trying."

Arthur did not want to hit Rutland, and held himself back as best as he could, shaking his head.
"You bastard." He simply said, his words coming out as crystal clear as he wanted them to, as Loras simply put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, easing him back.
"Lord Belgrave, Lord Redwyne, we'll discuss this later. This is a council, not a betrothal court. I'd rather be drinking right now, so let's get this sorted." Loras simply said, as he sighed.

"Occupying Crakehall Keep itself would work. Keeping some forces in reserve may be a wise idea, to protect Highgarden. If I count correct, that would safely allocate you 50,000 men." Loras added, as Paxter nodded, looking across to the Castellan.
"Indeed, and against this Thrid Party, it would be a good decision. To keep our capital strongholded, if it is an unknown quantity." Paxter merely stated, as Loras continued, sitting upright, drinking a little more Arbor from his cup.
"Invasion is difficult, even I understand that. But it may come to it. That is something we have to be ready for. I would imagine you would want people by your side, Belgrave. I would be willing, some of this council, I would imagine wouldn't be suitable. You can take your pick, and the camps will be set for the raised forces over the coming days, if you advise that as our action. Even so, we must be ready to fight them if they decide to attack first." Loras said, his oafish mind at least trying to make sense of the situation, knowing that this was probably his best input into this, and Ser Garrett and Lord Paxter seemed broadly agreeable to it. It wasn't stupid, but it wasn't exactly material that Garland would have up his sleeve. He'd have done something far more bold, distinct, and to the point, that didn't bullshit.

Belgrave had decided in an instant, lifting a finger and pointing at Lord Paxter. "My lord, I believe that you are one of the few at this table I have managed to avoid offending, of course, my goodson will be leading the fleets I'll assume, if not, he shall, as to my forces, I will have to marshal them and ride back north, so my ancestor Lord Bryce will be leading my troops." Lord Bryce was old, very much so, and even more of a hellraiser than Lord Rutland, he remembered hearing of a son that Bryce crippled by attempting to force the lad to joust at a very young age, the man ended up spending all his time in the gardens trying to kill dandelions with rocks or something of the sort, he remembered a story where this same lad had flashed Lord Gregor, the lad had grown at this point, and was around sixty years old, Bryce's only comment was that he wished he was there.
"You all have heard of Lord Bryce, he's done a lot, he's a good man, perhaps a little immature, but he's honest, brutally so, he's a good commander too, even as old as he is he can still beat me in a spar, I remember the maester telling me that he's over a century old, if that's not a testament to Tarly constitution I don't know what is." Belgrave knew that Loras was still trying to wrap his head around the situation, so he didn't push the issue, lest he break the oaf's mind.

Paxter nodded, looking to Belgrave.
"Tarly's honour. Wouldn't expect anything less, Lord Belgrave. Lord Bryce would be a good commander indeed. He's mad, but he's fuck off with a sword." He replied, chuckling, smiling. Oh, Belgrave was good old, he had people on side, and considering how militarized they were, it seemed to fit them perfectly. People like Bryce were hardened, and more than used to fighting. Paxter knew that the Tarlys picked more fights than could be counted with the Dornishmen, and had that topic have even been mentioned, no doubt they would never discuss the war with the Crakehalls if Loras had let it up.
"So, we are decided then?" Ser Garratt asked, looking to Loras, as the Castellan nodded half-heartedly.
"To some extent. Once the rest of the levies and the army is formed, Lord Belgrave can march on for Crakehall Keep. By then, Garland will have likely returned, or at least we'll know of what he wants." The Hightower-Tyrell said, as Arthur nodded, looking across.

"And any Crakehalls that take the Oceanroad....your scouts will know before they even see what they walk into." Lord Redwyne simply added, a simple addition, Ser Garratt leaning across the table after taking a gentle swig of wine.
"Isn't that a little simple, my Lords? Do what Garland wants after you do all this? Invoke that wrath? He's already fucking angry enough! We could push on, end this." Ser Garratt asked, as Loras scoffed, at the very thought of that itself.
"Garland wouldn't want us not acting, as Lord Tarly says. But he wouldn't want us invading a whole realm without his say so." The retort was quick from Arthur, as the two looked locked. Loras butted in, before it continued on.
"And that would be the case. We don't want to do anything stupid. We'll hold our soil. And set a little of theirs ablaze. A show of force, on Westerland soil. Enough to give revenge after what the fuckers did to King's Landing, to our Lord!"

"Aye, Loras." Paxter agreed, followed by another aye from across the table, to Loras's conclusion, being a little half-baked but enough. Paxter seemed capable of his own abillity, to make laws and to administer, and in all likelyhood, was probably smarter and better at Loras's job than Loras himself. Yet it seemed like he didn't overexert himself, he just kept to his own matters, not wanting to get tangled into this mess. Following Lyanna's example of only speaking when needed seemed to work.
"What say you, Belgrave?"
"I say aye, it only makes sense that I agree to my own idea, I'm glad that we could work this out. Spare me anything else, I'm leaving now." He stood and left the room without another word, Rutland flashing a mocking grin at Redwyne before following with the personal guard.
Redwyne stared back at Rutland, almost cursing under his breath, as he looked to the rest of the council, clearly not amused with what had happened. As they left, Paxter stood up, and looked to Arthur, nodding, almost agreeingly with Lord Redwyne's anger.
"Leave it be. Belgrave isn't going to kill them. He's going to make fuck-off soldiers out of them though. I wouldn't mind if my Janos was like that." Paxter Peake said, as he took a final swig of Arbor, looking out from the council table, and over at Ser Garratt, who also stood up.
"I would assume that this meeting's at an end. " Ser Garatt looked across to Loras, who nodded in reply.
"I need some bloody cider, not Arbor." Loras said quietly, knowing that all of this shit that he had been thrown could seriously do with Garland to deal with now.