The sun shone over the white towering walls of Highgarden, the Mander flowing by as it had permanently done so for the last millenia, and the odd cloud dotting on the horizon, sometimes coming closer and then drifting off into the distance. The concentric defences were distinctly what gave the Reach it's flavour- each white wall taller and thicker as you went in, the thorn bushes of the Briar Maze themselves a point that both acted as a ramshackle flower market and a defensive structure in it's own right. Within the innermost circle, towers, fountains, statues as well as the majority of the nobility could be found, the majority of the markets and peasant housing sprawling between the concentric layers and on the outskirts of the mighty castle walls. The air did not feel thick, like King's Landing, it felt clean, it felt like you were in the midst of the literal personification that the Tyrells' rose had brought. Vines sprawled across the buildings' limestone façades, and beyond the Great Hall of Highgarden, in the higher towers, were the ruling family's vast chambers, in the Southern Tower that overlooked the Mander, and beyond that, the great plain, only broken up by hills towards the coast.
Within the courtyard, near Garland's quarters of residence and adjacent to a pair of oak trees, a couple of men could be seen sparring, both in full plate, using dulled blades. Garland watched on from a set of exterior stone stairs going up the white stone wall, wearing his white and green tunic, his typical complexion still showing, his hair kept long and his beard kept well kept, predominantly offering a lion's mane of hair around his chin. Alerie looked over to him, as she walked up onto the stairs, looking up at her elder brother.
"You always watch the sparring at this time of day, it's like you want to get involved." She said, smirking as Garland shrugged, looking across the courtyard, the sprawling castle filled.
"I often do. Just not today. I don't feel like fighting. I still can't believe Aegon's dead. We were friends, I remember going on hunting trips with him, having feasts, drinking merrily. And now he's gone. We're going to be going back to King's Landing within two days, it's a long carriage ride. And I will need to make sure whoever succeeds him is ready. Daenys was not his sucessor, Aegon told me that much. He had it written in his will, that the legitimate heir to the Iron Throne is another Targaryen, that is not Daenys."
"Well, then who is? Are you telling me there is no Targaryen out there? That madman can't take power."
"There is, I am certain of it. Aerys should be, but nobody has seen him...we have to assume he was killed by Daenys. But whoever is left, he, or she should now know she is to inherrit. No doubt the Queen already has that person in mind." He added, Alerie, nodding.
"By the Seven, Garland. We'll get through this. The air here seems to clear my head." The reassuring sister said, as Garland looked over.
"Remember that man, that you said you loved back in Ashford? On the way back?" Garland said, chuckling a little, as Alerie laughed, her mind already at work.
"I remember him...I don't stumble into what almost becomes a drunk tumble that often, brother. But you..."
"You always seem to get out of your own problems by stating mine. You always were the cunning one."
"And it's why we're here. Those men down there, they look good. Fighting, that is."
"I could take them. Easily. Even in my form. You have to look beyond, Alerie. There are so many men that you would love in King's Landing. I recently met a Dornishman by the name of Olivar Martell, a fourth brother to the Dornish Prince. You would adore him, they call him the "Peregrine", so good is his spear-throwing skill. His falconry is terrible, mind you."
"Oh, come on, I want something better than a spear-thrower, brother. There are so many of those in King's Landing anyway." She said, giggling, as Garland couldn't help but crack a smile, laughing at his sister's joke. She was the only person he knew would say it. He was never interested in her like the Targaryens frequently were interested in their sisters, or rather, how a couple of Lannisters had been once.
"Perhaps, but you know this full well. I am yet to find a beautiful woman, to make my own in marriage. There are so many here...well, you know that when a woman offers herself, you cannot say no, right?" Garland said, chuckling, Alerie completely used to his nature when he was like this.
"Yet you know a minor marriage is not worthy of yourself, not from within The Reach, plenty as they are. You have enough of a reputation, all those women with your bastards. If you weren't so fucking handsome and bloody charming to all these women who would die just to have a go with the Young Rose's spear, I bet we wouldn't have to worry about your succession, and all the awkward letters to King Aegon that would follow begging for their legitimacy. I guess it is better left like this, Garland. Perhaps we shall attend this funeral, and you can find yourself a noblewoman worthy of your type, perhaps that is what you should do. Take your mind off it, as terrible as it is, we have to deal with our future." Alerie said, her mood changing almost throughout the sentence, as she looked back at the spar, watching one man be kicked onto the floor and surrounded, as Garland turned to her again, a little in shock.
"This is my friend and our beloved King, Alerie! We are going to mourn for him, it would be terrible to do to be hunting for a lady to seduce!"
"And? Whenever are you going to meet any other women from a Great House on any other occasion? You and your seduction, there's plenty out there and yet all I ever said was for you to charm one. I hear Jesmyn Tully is one of the most beautiful girls, from what my handmaiden has told me. And anyway, you don't have to fuck everything that moves, you fool." She added, giggling, as Garland could only give a terrible, guilty chuckle back.
"I swear, I'd have killed you if you weren't my sister."
"Oh, and you'd have probably had sex with me if you weren't too. We're not fucking Lannisters. Or Targaryens for that matter." Alerie retorted, as Garland nodded, looking across, changing the topic once more as he saw another spar pick up, as he looked at his own longsword. Unsheathing it a little, he inspected the blade, before putting it back.
"Poor Rickard. If he's becoming a Maester, then who knows what will be of him. He is missing out on what I do. Poor lad."
"He is doing what he wants, Garland. Just let him be."
"Perhaps. He's returning from Oldtown today, I will have to tell him the news. He'll be so sad, I remember how Aegon and him got on."
"We have those memories, Garland. But we cannot let them pin us down. Focus ahead, stop dwelling on it. The Queen she will be a good Regent. We will go back, I will come with you, and we will sort this out. Your job will be important. Focus on who matters now, if we have to assert ourselves in the capital to make sure that nobody has any foolish ideas."
"Agreed. No doubt, The Reach is going to play a part in what happens next. We need to hold our own, and I do not wish to stand aside. We will go back, and do what we must. I feel it could be too late, if the other Lords are the way they are."
"And not us?"
"We are loyal to the Targaryens, Alerie. Like my uncle, his father before him, and his father before him. And okay, maybe even his father too. We are their best servants, and while that fool Daerys still lives, we have to try and salvage some sanity from their family. And if not, we will look after it, until the right one comes. There are many pretenders, yet if it's something in our blood, it's that the Tyrells know what they want."
Garland's observation was interrupted, as the noise of a soldier's boots could be heard coming up the stairs.
"M'lord! We have recieved a man at the gates, he says he has a package to deliver! He was told that you were to see it before anyone else!" Garland looked down to the guardsman, clad in his chain mail with a sallet helmet, looking over at the two of them.
"Tell him we will take his package, and tell him to wait in the gatehouse."
------------------------------------------------------
Opening the box, Garland almost felt ill, as he saw what he had to see. Alerie recoiled a little as well, but seemed less shocked than Garland was, as they peered in. The Queen's head was inside. He had spoken to her merely a week ago, then left for Highgarden once more, in his departure, hearing of the death of Aegon X upon his arrival in Highgarden two days ago by Raven. Right now, he did not know what to feel. Aegon had given Garland leave, to see his family once more, but now, Garland did not know what to feel. It was bad enough he was dead, now it was his wife? He felt like what he had said earlier, it was imploding on him. The Queen Dowager, dead. Now, what was going to be left in King's Landing....he just didn't want to think about it. And he was staring into her dead, cold eyes, her white hair a little touched by the blood inside the box, her neck completely severed, lacerated and cut rough. It was horrid, simply disgusting to see, and the most savage thing he wanted to find. Looking within the box, he saw a hand-written note, scribbled on a piece of a Maester's paper. The message read simply:
"You're all next."
Garland looked at Alerie, shutting the box as quickly as he opened it for just a moment, barely able to even look into the dead Queen's eyes.
"No. This can't be happening." Garland said, as Alerie gulped, opening it once more.
"She was murdered Garland, and they sent it to us for a reason....." She said, a single tear running down her cheek, as she shook her head.
"The Queen was a good woman, she liked us, and...now this?! Whoever did this, wanted us to know. I suspect someone from King's Landing wants us to be afraid. Daenys was next to inherit. Only he would do something as twisted as this. That bastard." She simply said, her tongue angry, as Garland nodded, in agreement. He knew exactly what it meant, it was a declaration of insanity. Garland always knew this was hell, but two people were now dead, and Aegon has been suspected to have been poisoned by his brother. This almost seemed to support that Daenys had finally and completely lost the plot.
"Nobody on the council would have done this...only Daenys. It has to be. It's nobody else. Those feelings he had for me...it's as if he's saying he wants me to know most of all that he did it. Our King first, now her. He wanted them both dead. He's sick..." Garland added, as Alerie looked over at him, nodding solemnly and adjusting her dress a little, as Garland gulped.
"We need to call a council of our own. Alerie, leave this one to me, go and speak with Rickard when he comes back and meet with me this evening, we will talk then. Cancel the trip back to King's Landing. We are staying put for now, we need to make a course of action on what we do about this. Aegon's funeral will have to wait. We need to find out what is going on, before our heads end up in boxes. And that fucking courier...let me see how I feel." Garland added, looking out as he jogged out of the stony room within the gate, his hand on his swordhilt as he walked out of the room, leaving Alerie with the Queen Dowager's head.
Moving out of the Gatehouse, and to the gate, where two of the men looked at the courier, Garland could only offer a wrothful face to present to this lowborn scum. His tunic was worn, and whilst he wore riding boots, he did not look like anything noble. He was scum, from the very bottom of Flea Bottom. He smelled it too. Garland looked him over, the Tyrell barely even phased by the sight before him, fuming. He was a resilient man, but few things snapped him like that had. And he wanted to vent it onto the messenger.
"What in Seven Hells have you brought us! You brought the head of your Queen to my castle!"
"I don't know, I was only told to bring you this box, I swear it on my life!"
"Who made you do this!" Garland roared, pulling his sword from his hilt, plucking the longsword against the man's throat, aware that while it wasn't the most subtle of things to do, even he knew how well a sword worked in putting the point across, quite literally.
"I was given it in a tavern in King's Landing, and told to give it to Lord Garland, without question and with those specific words by a man in a brown cloak, I have ridden for three days and not told a soul what it was about, I swear it, I swear it by the Gods!" He said, as Garland shook his head.
"You delivered me the head of your Queen. Now kneel. KNEEL!" He added, angry as he looked down. He exhaled, looking over as he put his sword against the man's throat, just looking at him as he looked up into Garland's eyes.
"I'm a merciful person. You will be allowed to go. But I want to know you shall not do such a deed again. If you come with another head, I will make sure yours is sent back...are we understood?"
"Yes, my lord! I won't do it again!"
"Good. Now leave. Your message has been received. If some fucking man tells you that you did a good job, tell him that he does not have very long to wait for my response." He said, the man turning as the guards half dragged him past the half-lowered gate, as Garland looked across to the guard that remained. He felt cynical, just somehow detached in some ways, just completely at an odd with what had happened.
"Thank you for that. Be ready for any more visitors, this might be a long day if we start seeing more bits of our Queen come in. For both our sakes, let us hope that was all they wanted us to see. They'll fucking pay."
-----
The Council Hall was a busy one, as Garland sat at it's head, looking across. The council ranged from a number of minor lords, nobles and other figures in the Reach that Garland wanted by his side. It was responsible for running The Reach in Garland's absence, and considering the huge logistical challenge that had proved, it seemed that with what Lords were here, an agreement could be made on how to continue, Garland knowing he would never make a decision without some councel beforehand.
"We've received more word, my Lord. It has the seal of the Crakehalls." Ser Harland said, the Knight not a council member, but called in, after receiving word that the council had been informed of before the council would begin. The Hall was large, and the white walls reflected the sunlight well, the candles lighting the area well off this white limestone.
"Please, if you could read the message. I feel it will give us some information on what the Westerlands want, at this terrible time." Garland simply said, as the man across the hall began reading.
"It goes:
"I, Lord Tyget Crakehall, Warden of the west and head of House Crakehall, hereby claim the Iron throne as mine by blood. With the death of Aegon X and his heir apparent's disownment, I am heir to the throne by my great uncles wife, Alyssa Targaryen, as he sired no heirs. I hereby declare myself King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the first men, lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. I denounce any and all other claimants as traitors and usurpers, and call all those loyal to the true heir to rally to my side and bend the knee. I will root out the false heir Daenys Targaryen and sit upon the Iron throne.
King Tyget Crakehall, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms."
The room fell silent, as Garland looked across, letting the calm fill, as he heard murmurs.
"King Tyget?" Garland simply said, as the Knight nodded, Ser Harland speeaking up over the great table.
"Those were the words."
"Well....Tyget seems to know how to fabricate a claim. He wishes to pursue the Iron Throne without any due just cause. Thank you, Ser Harland, you may leave." Garland added, as the Knight turned out of the room, Garland looking across to the other council members, one turning to him. It was Lord Arthur Redwyne, Lord of the Arbor, and one of Garland's trusted advisers, being his Master of Coin for The Reach. The old man looked over, a little in disbelief.
"He declared himself King. The man is bold, but foolish. A letter like that, to take us away from any action. If he intends to kill Daenys, then perhaps his cause is just. But we know there are still Targaryens out there that would be willing to lay stake to his claim." Lord Redwyne said, as Garland nodded, murmuring across the table.
"But Aerys is dead, and we have no idea who else is left! Could it not be that we've got nobody to claim this throne?" Another voice added, the Master of Ships on the far end, Ser Garrett, a Knight from Oldtown, suggesting otherwise to Redwyne's words.
"Aerys we THINK is dead, that boy is possibly alive. If he is, he must be found, if he is not, then we must look around for whatever Targaryen heirs there are left, along any branches, be it in Westeros or not. But Ser Garrett is correct. If there is no heir then the Kingdoms will fall to the rest of the Houses. It has been assumed Aerys would take control, or Aegon would have children before this war emerged. With the death of the Queen, the number of Targaryens showing their faces in King's Landing will be non existent, no doubt. Leaving us."
"And what of Crakehall's words? Surely, we must be careful, my lord." Ser Alesander said, the man from House Tarly as one of Garland's most senior military staff, here to attend this meeting in place of Lord Belgrave Tarly, of whom was currently in The Arbor, working with Lord Redwyne's men.
"Whatever happens, he is going to be mustering troops and marching on King's Landing, right now. If he gets there, he will murder anyone he thinks is harbouring Targaryen blood. He will want people like me back on the Council, he would be a fool not to realize otherwise. Yet he's going to sit on that chair, and either expect us to bend the knee, or kill him. I assume he thinks by doing the former right now, he's going to be already getting our response. Rally the banners of Tumbleton. If he wants to play his rhetoric, then I wish to respond. If he does not back down, then we will march for King's Landing."
"Are you sure such an action is wise, my lord? Would it not be better that we consider that Crakehall may be a better successor than Daenys? Even if it is in a connection that he states, perhaps it is true." Redwyne asked, Garland aware that he had to make a bold claim, and that inside, the rest of these Lords would know exactly why he was doing it.
"We have been left no choice. Five generations ago, Lord Mace Tyrell was being told that the High Septon would have his son and daughter imprisoned and left to the fate of the Seven, or rather, his Lannister supporters. That did not happen because of his intervention and Lannister insanity of what the Septry is. Crakehall wants to claim the Iron Throne, and just like the Lannisters, he knows that if he stands unopposed, he can follow his threat through. If we must risk a war, then so be it. Crakehall is overconfident, when the rest of the Seven Kingdoms hear of this, they will want to support the Targeryen dynasty, whomever minor it will be that we have to find, but definitely not this Lord Tyget Crakehall, of his upstart dynasty. Even if Daenys is insane, and we cannot have him as a sucessor, we must find someone who can. These are not the Seven Kingdoms any of us would want, to be ruled by some Westerman!" Garland said, clearing his throat with some water as he then spoke once more.
"Willas Tyrell, my brother, will command the City Watch for the moment being, his authority will allow him to do so, and I will write to him immediately saying that he has the Hand's authority...so Crakehall will be forced to siege if he wants to get inside. We will send a force of 10,000 Reachmen from Lord Tumbleton's retinue to King's Landing, and Willas will lead this force. If this..."King" Crakehall has 50,000 Westermen following him, then we know what will happen. I do not wish to go to war. But we have a duty to fulfil. If at the very least, the other Lords follow our lead, we have a chance at preventing this ambitious Westerman from usurping a throne that is not his. Daenys or not, we must preserve the Seven Kingdoms, lest we stand idle and let a man who knows nothing of being King take it from a dynasty that has been with us for several centuries. Daenys is running, and he knows he is a dead man, I wish for him to be brought to Trial for his actions. It is better to put him on display for all to see, to receive the Seven's justice. Our threats will scare him more than any other Lord Paramount's, and he knows it full well. If I know Lord Jullon Tully enough, he's not someone to side with Crakehall, not unless provoked. So we will have to play our game carefully." Garland said, as he looked across, Ser Alesander looking a little disagreed, but such was the point of councils such as these.
"How do we know? All it will require is the Riverlands to provide backing, or the Stormlands...and then what about the small Lords of the Crownlands? Surely, they would just detest our presence?"
"It is a risk we must take, Alesander. Otherwise, we will have a King Tyget that isn't a falsehood, but a reality. Raise Tumbleton's banners. If the next Raven that comes in tells us that Crakehall has attacked our men, I will require ALL our banners to be raised. Before winter comes, we will need our men to have defeated whatever forces he may throw at us, and ensure we have forged an alliance with at least one other Great House, whoever they may be. Once we have King's Landing secure, then we will think about where we lie."
"What if we do what he did? Put...put yourself on the throne, Garland?" Another voice called out, this being across the table, and this being an important one. Lord Loras Hightower-Tyrell, the house born of a marriage of Lady Hightower and Gregor's uncle, Luther, was among the most senior advisors, in his mid-30s but in charge of the Oldtown Lordship, and his own Hand, looking after The Reach in Garland's absence. The murmoring went on, everyone aware that saying such a thing was treason...and that Garland was far, far too young to stomach that. Robert Baratheon had been older, but a twenty-one year old Lord, as King of the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals and First Men...such a feat would be difficult to justify, and somehow, Garland didn't know how to respond to that. It was a big ask, and it felt to him that even as if he had just gotten to grips with being the Lord Paramount, this had to happen. Right now, he had a chance that would not repeat, and he knew that whilst he could not give a confident response, he could say what he knew of.
"There is nothing to stop us. We cannot decide on our course of action just yet, we have no idea who is left in King's Landing. In five days, the whole world has changed, so perhaps we will return to find a new world. I may know someone who would be able to rule, myself, you can speak freely if you think I would be a good King, but I know that Willas Tyrell would be our best candidate for the Iron Throne. If the situation demands it...we will place a Rose on the Throne. Aegon would have wanted one of us, not that Westerman scum. I am sure you know I am aware of who we are. But The Reach has a place to make Kings. And if we have to...we will make our own one when nobody does." Garland said, grit coming through in his voice at the end, as the council murmured louder, and louder. They had much to still discuss.
----
Drafting a letter in his chambers, Garland wrote slow and simple, but knew he had much to communicate. A Maester would make copies of this, and send to all the other Lords Paramount, reaching them in a couple of days, to perhaps a week for Lord Stark. It was a veiled threat, but a clear one, a warm signal for those who suppoted the Targaryens, and a stark warning for those others. He was even thinking of writing to House Tully, knowing that Jullon Tully could have a daughter that would be worthy of himself, if what Alerie said earlier was right. She normally was about these things, she was just like that. Garland even knew it, he was a sharp thorn, but Alerie, she was smart indeed, always one step ahead in any conversation, casual or not. He had to write another to Willas afterwards; he had gone over it in his head, and decided that Willas was best serving the Reach now, rather than the Kingsguard- with no King TO serve, he would be appropriately placed in charge of the City Guard, and his own command would be enough. The Commander of the Guard would be given leave, and Willas would take over, and if not, then Garland had made it clear- by any means needed, remove the Commander's influence with whatever method best appropriate. Garland could only guess that King's Landing was collapsing under the weight of no King, and no direct control that ran the cogs, the man at the top gone and several dead nobles later, meaning that whoever was on the Small Council and left in the capital would be key to keeping the machinery running.
Someone like him had to be there, but it was too dangerous, considering that the Crakehalls were potentially moving to King's Landing with a force of their own. He had decided that he would return to King's Landing, once Lord Crakehall had backed off, or if not, he would arrive with as many men as he could, numbering over 55,000 of who he decided he would commit to a straight battle in the Crownlands on the Roseroad heading into King's Landing, to then sally into the city. Numbers would prove useful, and on a semi-arid plain, Garland knew that it would be easy to win a battle with just numbers on it's own. Garland was a sharp fellow, and knew military strategy had to be bold sometimes- such an action would leave The Reach exposed in a relative manner, leaving 15,000 to defend the northern frontier of The Reach, or at the very least, be far weaker than any force fighting in King's Landing. But by reinforcing King's Landing, the axis of the Seven Kingdoms, and sacrificing a couple of his northern vassals in the Reach temporarily to Westerman attacks would be worthwhile, if it meant he could deny that false Lord his alleged King status. It would be all it would take, and even if the other Kingdoms disagreed, whoever had King's Landing, would win the war, siege or no siege. And mercenaries could always bulk up whatever forces he did not have, with what contacts Lord Loras had, it would be easy to achieve. Finishing his letter, he read it back to himself.
"To the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms,
In the aftermath of the death of Aegon Targaryen, tenth of his name, I write to ask for your appeasement, in these terrible times. The death of the Queen, by the suspected hand of Daenys Targaryen, of whom has been disinherited of his heirdom by the King's will, results that there is a need for peace in the Kingdom in a succession crisis such as this, and a renewed meeting of the Small Council in King's Landing. I, as Hand of the King to the deceased Aegon, will restore order to the Crownlands and King's Landing, and provisionally instate a military Reachman force to keep the peace within the city itself in the absence of a King, until the correct Targaryen heir is found. Any hostile actions against any men of the Reach will be met with hard consequences, and any self-titled claimants to the throne beyond the Targaryen dynasty will be met with hostility in response. At this current time, I act as Regent to the Iron Throne, and I ask for your patience, to continue to serve the crown of the Targaryen dynasty with due honour.
Signed,
Lord Garland Tyrell, Lord Paramount of The Reach, Warden of the South, Hand of the King to Aegon X Targaryen"----------------------------------------------
Putting it back, he heard a knocking on his door, as he saw another guard come through, after giving a simple "Yes" to clear him into the chamber.
"My Lord, there is a Yunkish woman at the gate, she states that she is of the Noble Family, Zo Zaaraq. She seeks an audience with you, regarding mercenaries, she mentioned they were slaves."
"Fine. She better be worth my time, we're at the eve of war, and if she has a few hundred mercenaries, I don't care. Those slaves better be as good as if not better than the Unsullied." Garland replied, thinking it over. It would be useful to have a foreign contact, and coincidences like this did happen, he reminded himself. Like how Aegon and then the Queen were so suddenly dead, the Seven let the brewing of war and the sheer inertia to attract foreign mercenaries to the fray. It would be useful, if Garland felt like bolstering his forces on the western coastline, in addition to the planned strategy he had considered prior, so it was worth his time, even for a few minutes. And a Yunkish beauty would be a nice evening to spend time with. Ah, the benefits of being a bachelor, Garland reminded himself. When you were dashing, you could act like a bastard, and nobody would notice. It was a good thing his chivalry was only something he wore on his armour and with his sword, and outside of that, he could have the pleasure he could. Before getting married, he said to himself.
"She is also asking for a place to find food and rest, following travel up the Mander."
"Unless she's a whale, I think we can accommodate for an exotic guest." Garland replied, standing up as he put the letter into his safekeep, locking it as he headed out, still wearing his tunic as earlier, always being a reminder that Garland was willing to pay very, very large sums of money for clothing like this. The guest he would meet, he realized he could not have been further from the truth.
(I genuinely apologise for how long this post was, it has so, so much content to cover, that it was impossible to fit in. Everything from box, to mail, to actually developing Garland and Alerie's characters out. Next post will definitely see a little more of Alerie, and a little more of Rickard and Willas.)
