Game of Thrones IC

by **Acroticus** » Fri May 10, 2013 10:39 am

It has been nearly thirty years since the Blackfyre Rebellion, when House Blackfyre led thousands of men against the Targaryens. Since then there has been peace, forged on the backs of the Great Houses. For many years, the Severn Kingdoms have been very successful, and every house has made great strides. However, this peace is very fragile. Even the smallest thing could break this peace, and let loose the dogs of war. Even the death of the Hand of the King could descend the Seven Kingdoms into chaos.

by **Nova Imperius** » Fri May 10, 2013 12:57 pm

The Red Keep, Kings Landing

King Aegon VII watched as his fine white hair passed through his hands. In a furious dance of fire then sprang up around him, and soon the white gleaming hair was dripping and stained with blood. He gave out a cry to his guard, but he was somewhere indescribable. Finally he looked before him and from the hand of an unknown warrior was hurled a great metal spear. As it was mere millimeters from his head he woke in a sweat. He had been dreaming, yet another nightmare. For years now the King had experienced these terrifying ordeals in his sleap, each more fierce than the last and each and everyone ending in his inevitable death. As a Targaryen from this he could take two paths, either join many of his ancestors in insanity or pull from it courage and hardiness. The King was to still make his mind up. He pulled on his grand robes of state and placed on his head the cornet he wore when going to the small He then accompanied by the Kings Guard made his way to the Small Council Chamber. With his standard elegance he glided into the room and sat down in the seat reserved for the King,

"Members of the Small Council, with me i bear grave news. Last night Lord Finius, my hand, was finally found. He was found dead on the rocks below the keep, having been dead for well over a month. Sisters of the nine have began work on the decomposing body and after the necessary blessings shall be given a funeral in the Riverlands. With this news i would ask all of you to be in attendance tonight, when i shall decide upon my new hand. That is all."

The King rose from the chair as quickly as he had arrived and with haste left the small council in the same silence that he appreciated upon his arrival.

by **Yanalia** » Fri May 10, 2013 1:12 pm

Winterfell

"We should send a party of horsemen at once! I will lead them myself! These outlaws must answer for their crimes!" Rickard Stark stood up in his outrage.

"Caution, Rickard. We should not make rash decisions until we are aware of all the facts," his father replied wearily from his seat on the throne of Winterfell.

"Father, how can you-" the young lord blurted out.

"Rest assured, my son, justice will be done. Sit down. Now." Lord Stark turned back to the farmer who had lodged the complaint. "You say these men stole a portion of your harvest. What other crimes did they commit?"

In awe of Winterfell and Jon Stark, the poor man had trouble speaking. On top of this, it was obvious that he was traumatized by the crime he was reporting. "M-many evils, my lord. T-they ransacked my h-house. Took s-some of our most v-valuable p-possessions, my lord. Broke parts of the house too. They t-trampled my harvest. When they were d-done, they...they took my, my w-wife." The man had started crying.

Rickard stood up once more. "Father, you cannot keep questioning the poor man. Let us bring justice to the land!"'

"I do not imagine your lord father must tell you twice before you listen. Sit down, and comport yourself like a lord. I will not tolerate anymore of this childishness," Jon said angrily. He turned to the poor man once more. "Were they flying any banners? Anything that would tell us who they were?" Lord Stark asked.

"N-no, my lord." The man was in agony.

"Very well. Maester Puelis, provide this man with gold and a place to spend the night. Also send laborers to help him restore his dwelling. If he lacks any comfort while he is staying here, let him but ask for it and it is granted."

The man gazed with admiration at Lord Stark. "Th-thank you, my lord."

"We shall also send horsemen after these outlaws to obtain their arrest." He looked pointedly at Rickard before continuing. "My captain of the guard shall choose the members and leaders immediately and set out tonight. Is there any other comfort I can offer you?"

"N-none, my lord."

by **Acroticus** » Mon May 13, 2013 12:58 pm

The Riverlands, Westeros

*cough* Jacob Tully rode his horse with his hand over his mouth. *cough* *cough*

“My Lord?”

“I’m fine.” *cough*

“It’s the cold, my lord. You should not have gone so far north. The Frey’s should be traveling to you, not the other way around.”

“Lord Frey is a stubborn man, Hobb. Besides, I haven’t been that far north since I was a-” *cough* *cough* *cough* “Since I was a child.”

“Lord Frey is a swine.”

“Hobb!”

“The man has 12 sons! Forgive me, my lord, but it’s no man be having that many children! I shoulda shown him how to act… would’ve been quite a bit of squealing!” Several other men from behind snickered. Jacob did not, but he turned to his side and coughed. “See, my Lord, you should not have gone!”

“I’ll be fine.” Ser Jacob and his men were only several miles from Riverrun; they’d be home before dusk. The trip from Riverrun to the Twins took some time, and Jacob would be happy to be home. He was never fond of the Freys, but he was fond of personally knowing each Lord in the Riverlands. He had spent much of his 30 years traveling from castle to castle, meeting the Lords and Ladies that together made up his Kingdom. Or, rather, his father’s Kingdom.

Carter Tully was nearing his 60th birthday. The High Lord of the Riverlands since the Blackfyre Rebellion, Carter Tully had never been popular with the lords of the Riverlands. He was not meant to be high lord; Terrance Tully, Carter’s brother, was originally High Lord. But when Terrance sided with the Blackfyres, several Riverlords, under Carter’s command, laid siege to Riverrun. Terrance died in the siege, and Carter became Lord of Riverrun. Since then, all the lords whom had followed Terrance were wary of Carter Tully. The Freys were among them. However, Jacob was not his father. He had grown up cordially with the other lords, and even married the daughter of Lord Mooton, a fierce supporter of his uncle in the Rebellion.

Jacob and his men rode through the gates of Riverrun that night, receiving a slightly smaller greeting party than expected. Carter had already gone to sleep, and Jacob’s wife, Amelia, had gone to put their son to bed. Jacob stumbled to his chambers and drifted off to sleep

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Wed May 15, 2013 10:26 pm

Highgarden|The Reach

As it seemed almost everyday was in the Reach, the morning sun rose high above the towering white walls of Highgarden as it had every day beforehand since Garlan had become Lord of the Reach six years before. With the tragic death of his older brother Lord Markus, Garlan was thrown into a role that he seldom expected to ever inherit. Still, even with the growing pains of any new lord six years before, Garlan had managed to solidity himself as Lord of the Reach and managed to gain the respect of his allies and many of the Great Houses of Westeros due to his style of rule and also because of his skill with a sword and with battle tactics. Nevertheless, today would begin as every other day of the last six years had started as Garlan awoke from his slumber.

Waking from his bed overlooking the vast expense of gardens that gave Highgarden its' name, Garlan sighed as it seem today would be no different from the days before. While most people would relish at the chance to live the life Garlan had achieved, the young Lord of the Reach only felt contempt as he was still without a wife to solidify his family's legacy and continuing succession to rule the Reach. Looking over the gardens of Highgarden and the rising sun, Garlan smiled a faint smile as he took the few quiet moments in before he was interrupted by his steward Rickard and Maester Lucas. Even as Lord of the Reach with the power to appoint anyone to serve him, Garlan continued to have his brother's former Maester and steward serve him as they both were old friends of the family and as such, were trusted more then many of the minor lords of the Reach that Garlan had quickly come to know. Quickly grabbing his robe, Garlan just glanced a faint smile at the two individuals as they greeted him.

"Greetings this fine morning, my Lord Garlan. This morning sun is a most wonderful sun rise. I have prepared your morning meal for you on the adjacent balcony of your quarters and have already had your horse prep for your trip North to Winterfell to meet Lord Jon Stark," Rickard said as he brought over a full tray off food to the outside balcony were Garlan had his breakfast every morning. Rickard was an older man of about sixty that had been in service of the Tyrells since childhood and as such, Garlan had considered him apart of his family and trusted him even as it seemed his family was getting smaller and smaller with each passing year.

"Thank you very much, Rickard. Inform my guards and bannerman that I want to be on the road by late morning as it is a long journey to Winterfell, especially considering that Jon wants to see me with haste," Garlan replied as he sat down at the table and began enjoying the food provided. After taking a couple of bites and downing some wine, Garlan turned to Maester Lucas and spoke up. "So, Maester Lucas, any news this fine morning that I need to be concerned with. And if it relates to the ongoing dispute between Lord Redwyne and Lord Tarly over who's daughter gets to wed Willas, inform them both that they will need to settle it with a duel between themselves before I have to get involved and smash both of their heads."

Laughing at the comment his young lord made, Maester Lucas just smiled as he took a seat next to Garlan. Only a few years older then Garlan himself, Maester Lucas was an interesting person as he only served Garlan's brother for a year before his death. However, Maester Lucas had proved his value in helping the young Garlan keep the Reach running and helping Garlan solidify his place as Lord over the last few years. Finishing his slight laugh, Maester Lucas soon replied back in response. "My Lord, a Raven from Kings Landing arrived just before the sun rose this morning from your uncle Gregore. It seems that the Hand of the King, Lord Finius Arryn, was found dead yesterday morning. Your uncle requests that you make your way to Kings Landing once your business with the Starks is done as he says there are things that he can only discuss to you."

Listening intently to Lucas, Garlan was saddened to hear the passing of Lord Finius Arryn as he was an honorable man and had helped the King of Westeros keep things in order during his tenure. While it did seem strange that his uncle wanted him to arrive without haste to Kings Landing, Garlan just brushed it off as he responded back. "Send a raven of grievance and respect to the Vale to House Arryn over the passing of their Lord and also send a raven to my uncle that I will be in Kings Landing as soon as I am done with my business in the North. Also, while I am away, I will need you to help my younger brother Willas run the Reach until I return. I should only be gone for a month at most, but make sure he keeps things running here till I return."

Nodding in approval, Lucas replied back. "Of course, my lord. And may the Seven bless you with a successful trip into the North and with the Starks." With that, the rest of the morning proceeded unchanged as Garlan finished his breakfast and soon readied himself for his journey up to Winterfell. By late morning, Lord Garlan Tyrell, his honor-guard and one thousand of his bannermen left the gates of High Garden as they began their journey up to Winterfell.

The Red Keep|Kings Landing

After listening to the news from King Daeron in reports to the tragic death of the Hand of the King in Lord Finius Arryn, Gregore's eyes lit up with both suspicion and with opportunity as he saw both an opportunity and trickery to be played. As King Aegon had announced that he would be selecting a new Hand by this evening's Small Council meeting, Gregore began making his preparations to inform people of the recent death and also to start looking at who the possible candidates to the Hand of the King might be. While he originally thought himself for the position, Gregore knew he would have a difficult time trusting anyone else but himself to the Royal Treasury's numbers and handling and so he receded any further thought into the matter. However, he did know that the Lannisters would probably try to make a move into the spot as they had gone years without significant status in the Small Council and in the position of the Hand of the King, the Lannisters would be able to steer the course of Westeros for many years to come. While he didn't view the Lannisters as enemies, Gregore knew better then to trust them as allies due to the matter of how they responded during the Blackfyre Rebellion. Still, with change in the air, Gregore sent a raven out to High Garden to inform his nephew of the news and to have him come to Kings Landing as Gregore had some deep concerns over the death of Lord Finius Arryn.

by **Gaveria** » Sat May 18, 2013 3:08 pm

by **Markev** » Tue May 21, 2013 6:15 am

Storm's End
Seat of House Baratheon, Lords Paramount of the Stormlands

Storm's End was a bustling castle with grooms and servants running to and fro. The Baratheon family was preparing for the journey capital, King's Landing. It had been some time since Lord Lyonel returned to court, despite his lady being of the royal family. The blood of old Valyria. Knight and squire alike in service to House Baratheon were eager to lay eye on the Blackwater, the Red Keep, and of course the vast tourney grounds. At such social events tournies were held, marriage deals were made, and alliances shaped within the ever-changing web of nobility in Westeros.

To a man like Lord Lyonel Baratheon, visiting King's Landing was a mixture of emotions. Shame at being later to a battle thirty years prior. Compassion for his King and father by law. Elaena longed to see her family, he knew. The duties of a lord paramount had kept them preoccupied for far too long in the Stormlands. He needed to bring his children to court and perhaps find marriages for them. Marya was now in the North, the future lady of Winterfell. But Steffon, Stannis and Cassana all were of age to find matches. Cassana was a tall beauty with dark hair and a woman's curves now. Time was passing quickly, it seemed. The rains fell and the days grew short, his father had always said. He had so as much the day he died before the walls of Storm's End. House Baratheon simply endured it.

In his solar Lord Lyonel had read the letters Maester Osric had brought. Courtesies and news from some of the Stormlords, particularly the Marcher lords. He smiled as he reviewed each paper in turn. Though smaller in size in comparison to the most of the other kingdoms, the Stormlands had endured thousands of years of strife, competition and war through sheer determination and skill. They had earned the description of 'Stormlords' through their sheer skill in battle. The lord of Nightsong bore good news at a persistent band of highwaymen that had been caught and hung. The marcher lord also sent regards for his son Harys, a ward of Storm's End. Lyonel reminded himself to ask Osric to prepare a reply. He stood dressed in a fine gold doublet emblazoned with the prancing stag of his house in onyx. His finely cut hair and fierce coal beard complemented his appearance well, and he left his solar intent on finding his children.
Outside his door Maester Osric awaited patiently. The maester was an old man, vaguely reminiscent of a turkey with his bare head and baggy neck.

"Maester Osric," Lyonel began, "Please sent the appropriate responses by raven, and inform all my bannermen. My brother Matthos will remain behind as castellan."

Osric bowed his head. "At once, my lord." With that he was off, back to the ravens.

Lyonel descended the stairs and made for the Great Hall on the ground floor of the central drum tower. He saw Cassana sitting with her mother, ladies-in waiting and friends, gossiping and sewing. Outside no doubt was Matthos, his youngest brother, meeting with the heads of the individual work details that kept the castle functioning smoothly. Ser Matthos was a good castellan with a skill for detail. Lyonel considered looking for Matthos, but decided to exit out the main doors. Guards stiffened to attention at his approach, and servants bowed their heads with a "m'lord" as he passed.

In the yard Baratheon knights sporting the gold and onyx colors of his house practiced at quintains and with each other. Among them were his sons: Steffon and Stannis. Though two years apart the lads were similar enough in size and appearance with matching black hair and blue eyes that they were often mistaken for each other. Steffon was quicker with a blade and excessively brave, while Stannis was more given to strategy over personal combat. Lord Lyonel watched them as they went to their training. Their cousins and other relatives had arrived earlier to join in. "Lord" Maric Baratheon, the middle brother, sat atop a destrier and guided the boys through their paces. Maric was quick to anger but ambitious. Though he had not stood on the island of Bloodstone since his youth, he still carried the title he had won as a young knight for slaying Blackfyre hold outs. Lyonel thought it humorous, but Maric took it very seriously.

Watchers on the western gate called out, and the open portcullis revealed the three deaths head moths of Horpe riders. At their head sat Ser Theo Horpe, stooped with pain. The man was again a widower, it was said. His face showed it.
How can one man have such bad luck, Lyonel thought.

The young knight approached and descended from his horse, going to one knee. "My lord, at your request I am here. I tried to make good time."

"Rise, Ser Theo. As usual you are punctual."

Ser Theo Horpe rose and tried a smile. The man had been married six times in ten years, and all his wives had died in childbirth or of accident. Only one son had survived, the lad now being 8 of age. He had a few cousins and nephews, but not many and they were not what he wanted. He wanted a castle full of children.

Horpe had haunted eyes. "I am glad you have not left for the capital yet. I hoped to ride with you, my lord." No doubt to find a new wife.

"And so you shall, friend. I await only for my children to be prepared, and then we depart on the morrow. King's Landing awaits." His loud, boistrous Baratheon voice carried across the yard, putting his sons to pause as they shouted in youthful excitement.

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Tue May 21, 2013 2:10 pm

Lord Tyrell Host|Five Days since leaving Highgarden

It had been five days since his host and himself had left the capital of Highgarden, but alas Lord Garlan Tyrell had already made good time and usage of his travel as he was already traveling on the Kings Road and had already past Kings Landing. Aware that he was missing on the opportunity for power within the court itself with the passing of the Hand, Garlan had sent ravens to Kings Landing to ask for King Aegon to nominate his uncle Ser Gregore Tyrell for the position of Hand. While it was to be a longshot at best considering that Gregore was already Maester of Coin for the realm, Garlan thought at least he could try to support his uncle and family name in any way he could. However, Garlan's main focus was to the North and to his friends in House Stark as it was coming onto the yearly anniversary of the Greyjoy Rebellion and the death of Rob Stark's brother.

Since he had run his bannerman and his honor guard hard the last few days to get to Winterfell, Garlan and his men were able to reach the outskirts of the North's territory as they decided to set up camp on the outskirts of the settlement of Greywater Watch. Seeing that it would still be another two days of riding for them, Lord Garlan wanted his men to rest as they were still ahead of schedule to arrive at Winterfell before the anniversary date. With camp being set up, Garlan decided to take in the scenery around him as it had been a year since he last was up in the North and as such, Garlan could see that the landscape of the North was always changing no matter how long he had been away. Looking over the landscape, however, Garlan could see banners on the horizon of the field as he wondered who was coming out to greet him.

Upon further examination, however, Garlan could notice the familiar banners that made up the Great House that had ruled the North since the arrival of the First Men; House Stark.

The Red Keep|Kings Landing

As was always the political climate within the capital of Kings Landing, Ser Gregore Tyrell was becoming more and more apprehensive with each passing day as it seemed that more and more ravens were coming in from the Great Houses to declare that they were coming to Kings Landing for the funeral of Lord Finius Arryn and to possibility declare their intentions to King Aegon to become the next Hand of the King. While Gregore did hear that King Daeron had received a letter of support from House Tyrell for Gregore to become the next Hand, Gregore knew he would have to request a personal audience with King Aegon before the other Lords of Westeros came to King's Landing to make their case. Walking over to the King's Quarters within the Red Keep with letter in-hand, Gregore took a few moments to himself before calmly knocking on the door to announce himself. "My Grace, it is Ser Gregore Tyrell. May I have an audience with you? It is in concerns to the realm."

(OOC: This post is mostly aimed to Nova Imperius and Yanalia to answer.)

by **Gaveria** » Tue May 21, 2013 9:51 pm

OoC: Just a quick post to keep the story moving

Bartholomew Lannister or Bart as those close to him would call him, much to his chagrin had only just arrived in King's Landing. He had rode out from Casterly within hours of the raven informing him of the death of the hand. It was a fact that all the great houses of the realm had known many weeks ago but some still held out that maybe he had simply gotten lost or decided to take an extended vacation.

That however was not the case, the hand had been found after much effort from the city watch, beaten and dashed upon the rocks like a stowaway thrown overboard. While the initial excite of finally being able to declare the hand officially dead had clouded the mind and judgement of many lesser lords, Bart could see quite clearly.

The hand of the King, arguably the second most powerful man in the entire kingdom had been from all indications, been murdered and his killer or killers were still loose in the capital. No doubt the king would be very interested to hear exactly who had the audacity to not only shed blood in the capital but to assassinate a high lord and his hand. That being said, whoever could bring the King information regarding the culprits would have His Grace's gratitude. While gratitude in and of itself wasn't valuable, the things that it could purchase were.

Bartholomew rode through the western gate, aptly dubbed the ''Lion's Gate'' with a handful of his personal guard flanking him. To all that gazed upon his countenance, he was man to be feared. Standing at an impressive six lengths and with a muscular physique it to match despite his old age, he was a man worthy of his moniker, The ''Lion of the West''. A name that had been given during the ill-fated Blackfyre rebellion.

As they passed through the gate, they were stopped by a handful of gold cloaks who despite seeing the crimson banner that identified their party as Lannisters insisted to know who they were. The old Lion was not amused to say the least.

''You there, what business do have here.'' asked the lead gold cloak, a short squat man with facial features that would have caused lesser man to shy away from looking upon him directly.

''I am Lord Bartholomew Lanninster, of Casterly Rock here by the invitation of my own to pay my respects to the late hand.''

''Nobudy told me that Lannisters were coming. I think I would have been told if you were true Lannisters. Begone u impasters with fancy armor & cloaks. Ye not getting in through here.''

The fat man was either brave or incredibly stupid. In his youth Bart would have had the man killed on the spot and impaled his head upon his lance but the years were kind to the old Lion, somewhat tempering his legendary fire but not by much.He decided he would give the imbecile one more opportunity to save his life & head.

''I will tell you once more to stand aside or you will not leave your post alive.''

The man faltered for a moment, but quickly regained his nerve.Most likely he had never been talked to in that manner before and it shocked him. He was of common stock & it had been a gift from the gods that he had managed to wiggle and beg his way into the Gold Cloaks. He was used to using his power as a sentry as a way to make himself feel important and worthwhile instead of the worthless sack of bones and meat that he was.

''What are you stupid? I told ya not getting in while I'm here.''

Bart glared for a moment before letting his hand which had been gripping the reigns of his horse looses fall onto his thigh, less than a fingers length away from the hilt of his sword. As he prepared to ride the man down in front of the gates of King's Landing, a rather large party of mounted gold cloaks approached at a rapid pace.

The lead rider a man of some upbringing judging by his demeanor and ease in the saddle pulled up along side the squat sentry.

'''Would like to explain why Lord Bartholomew Lannister of House Lannister is being delayed at the gates?''

The fat man was taken aback by the sudden appearence of his superior and the fact the tables had turned on him. No longer was he in control and he would have to answer for his actions.

''I thought they were sum well-dressed brigands or something. Nobody told me the Lannisters were coming.''

The rider signed heavily at his subordinates stupidity.

''High Lords do not have to inform little worms like yourself of their every movement and you will pay dearly for this.'' The rider nodded to the man's comrades who had quietly surrounded him and they grabbed him from behind, dragging him off kicking and screaming around the corner and out of sight.

He turned his horse to face the Lannister party and Lord Bartholomew.

''I must apologize my lord for that man and any trouble he might have caused you.

Bartholomew could have protested and demanded the man's head as compensation for the slight on his honor, however he thought better of it. It had been many years since he had walked the streets of King's Landing and if it was anything like he remembered then he would need all the allies and men he could get and this particular gold cloak had something to him that he could use.

''There is no need to apologize, it was not your doing that has seen me delayed here.''

''Yes my lord, allow me to escort you to the red keep.''

He nodded slightly and the man and his riders reversed their horses and took point as they headed into the city and towards the red keep.

by **Yanalia** » Thu May 23, 2013 4:37 pm

Winterfell

Lord Jon Stark read the letter carefully, a serious expression on his face. His wife studied him steadily, while his son psat, continuing to eat.

"Well, what is it, Father?" Jon looked up with a grave expression, holding it for a few seconds. Then he broke out in a wide smile.

"A raven from Greywater Watch. Lord Reed tells me that Tyrell banners have been sighted coming up the kingsroad. Many of them, actually."

Rickard frowned. "Tyrell banners so far north? With what purpose, does it say?"

Jon continued his report. "It does not. However, it must be important, as Lord Garlan Tyrell himself is present in the camp," he said, looking at his wife, whose face instantly lit up with joy. He knew it was hard for her, here in a strange land with strange customs. And her scarring left her even more sorrowful. He hoped that this news would cheer her. Jon loved her dearly and wanted her to be happy. Twenty-seven years, it'd been, and each more bearable with her. "I'm sure you'll be glad to see him, Jan."

"Oh, yes. It's just like him not to give us warning. He was never one to think things through. Oh, the preparations that must be made! All of Winterfell will have to help," Janna said. Her mind was already considering the necessities, adding up cooking times, who would need to be put where, decorations. Jon laughed loudly. He loved her for that.

'I am sure the feast will be wonderful. Don't worry so much, Jan. This should be a moment for happiness, not for careful planning. As much as I like planning." He turned to Rickard. "Rick, you'll have to ride down and escort them. Give him our best. Take a small honor guard with you, and ride immediately as quickly as possible.' Rickard nodded and left the room. "Maester Puelis?" The man had been standing patiently until the conversation finished. An exemplary maester. "Let us make the needed preparations. Get a feast together, with some singers for entertainment. And organize a hunting party. I am sure Lord Tyrell would like to partake of the challenging northern prey. Not much like the southron beasts, eh?" He laughed with his wife. This would be a happy time for Winterfell.

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Thu May 23, 2013 11:52 pm

Outside of Greywater Watch|Two Days since Arriving in the North and Ten Since the Death of the Hand of the King

Having since been greeted by Rickard Stark the day before, Lord Garlan Tyrell and his host were now making their way up the final stretch of the Kings Road to Winterfell as he had caught the young Stark boy up on the events that had transpired in the South during the last ten days or so. While the death of the previous Hand of the King was the newest news to come out of Kings Landing that affected the political structure of the entire realm, Garlan also had some news from the Reach as the last few years had been built up tension between House Lannister and House Tyrell. While officially both houses were neutral with one another, Garlan was well aware of the border tension with the Lion of the West as both houses were always trying to bid for more favor in the King's court. As they began to steady ride closer to their final destination, the young Garlan had many things running through his mind from seeing his sister Janna again to speaking with Lord Jon Stark about the news from Kings Landing and giving him an update on how the political sphere was shifting almost every hour in the capital and in Westeros. Even with all of the formalities and other events that he needed to take care of or needed to be done, Garlan was just happy that he was back in the North again to be with his second family as both the Starks and Tyrells friendship and bond had grown immensely over the last thirty or so years. As Lord Tyrell could see, both the Reach and the North were two kingdoms that cared for its' people and would do anything to keep the peace within themselves and all of Westeros.

After spending most of the morning and afternoon of riding on the Kings Road, Garlan and his host, guided by Rickard Stark and his guards, began to view the familiar battlements and outline of the mighty fortress and capital of the North in Winterfell. Approaching ever closer to the ancestral home of the Starks, Garlan's mind ran through many different scenarios of how he would pass on the news from the South to Jon Stark as he knew that Jon was especially sensitive to the dealings happening in the South. Nevertheless, Lord Garlan would find a way to pass the information onto Lord Stark in a matter that he would understand in one form or another. After a few more miles of riding, Lord Tyrell had the majority of his host set up just outside the walls of Winterfell as he himself, accompanied by his personal guard, followed Rickard Stark through the gates of the Stark homestead. Riding past the gates, Garlan could see there was still a mass of activity going on as many peoples were doing various tasks to ready for the feast that was to happen later in the night. Seeing the many people active lent to Garlan to smile as he knew most of this was from the work of his sister Janna as she was known through Westeros to be an excellent host for many-a-feast. After another short ride, Garlan and his guard came upon the courtyard of Winterfell where Lord Jon Stark and his entire family were waiting to greet the Lord of the Reach.

Looking from his horse, Garlan nodded at each of the assembled Stark family members before he disembarked his horse. Walking over to his sister first, Garlan gave Janna a long hug and spoke some words in private before he turned to Lord Stark. Now, in stature both men were about equal in height, but Garlan knew that Jon was the elder so he took a slight bow of respect before he clasped the hand of Jon. Being a lighthearted character and given the history between both men, Garlan smiled as he spoke. "Jon Stark........damn you get older and fatter every time I come here to visit you and the family. While you might still be able to kick my ass, I know for sure that I win the battle of looks over you any day of the bloody week. So, how does the Lord of the North fair? And, before you ask, there is a perfectly good reason for the amount of bannerman I brought with me as it pertains to troubles and politics going on in the South that you need to know about, Jon."

by **Yanalia** » Fri May 24, 2013 3:22 pm

Jon glared at the young and insolent lord. "Fat, is it?" He looked him hard in the eye. The tension crackled in the air for some time. Then, Jon started laughing, quietly at first, then louder and louder. Rickard joined in, and soon the whole Stark family was laughing at Lord Tyrell's joke. Jon wiped the tears from his eyes.

"D'you hear that, Jan? It's not that bad, is it?"

"I'd prefer not to comment," Janna said with a laugh.

"Not the man you once were, eh, Father?' Rickard's eyes glowed with mirth.

Jon looked at him with mock offense. "Young ones these days, no respect. Was it that bad when we were young, Jan?"

His wife looked at him with a smile. "Well, as I recall, a certain young Lord of Winterfell--"

Jon interrupted. "That's quite enough of that, then. We don't want to use any more of Garlan's time." Jon gave his wife a knowing look. He turned back to Garlan and clapped him on the shoulder, adopting a more serious expression. "Yes, I've heard the news from the South. Not good, that. The Hand was a good man. What are these troubles you speak of? You southerners are at it again, I suppose? Each of you vying for that prestigious spot, eh? But I'm forgetting myself. You've probably forgotten all of us while you were down there in the south. Bet you had to read my name off some book, eh?" Lord Stark guided Garlan to each of his family members.

"Alysane, my eldest daughter. Rickard, my son and heir. His wife Marya. Harrion, he was just a small boy last time you saw him. And here's Lyanna. Have you seen her before? I don't rightly remember."

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Fri May 24, 2013 8:34 pm

Winterfell Courtyard

As Garlan laughed along with Jon over the joke of the Lord's age and weight compared to himself, the young Lord of the Reach glanced out of the corner of his eye as he noticed Alysane Stark. Even while Jon spoke about the troubles of the South and the death of the Hand, Garlan always kept one eye focused on Alysane as there was something about her that caught Garlan's eye. As Garlan could see, Alysane was a beauty beyond what he had seen from suitors in the South and as such, Garlan's heart did melt a bit. However, Garlan also understood the past of the eldest Stark girl from what had happened a few years before between her and the Prince of Dragonstone. From what Garlan could remember from a few years before, Alysane was supposed to be married off to the Prince of Dragonstone. However, as it was heard about, Alysane didn't want to be married off and had her father brake off the marriage. While Garlan could understand Alysane's feelings over forced marriage, he knew that he himself was in need of a wife and had decided that he would need to win both Alysane and Jon over to arrange a marriage.

As Jon took Garlan to each of the Stark family members to introduce each other to one another, Garlan was all smiles as he made a brief comment to Jon. "Jon, you memory must be going also as I come up here to the North ever other year I can to partake with you and your family on the celebration of the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion and also to pass on my condolences to your late brother and my late father that I never knew." As Garlan said this, his face grew sad for a moment as he was the only child of Gregory Tyrell that never got to know his father due to himself being born after he had past at the Siege of Highgarden during the end of the Blackfyre Rebellion. However, after having his moment, Garlan got back to being cheerful as he reintroduced himself to the other Starks/ As Jon was right, Garlan could see that the younger Starks had grown up very much so since his last visit as it seemed it was only the other day he remembered seeing the youngest Stark child as a baby. Smiling at each one, Garlan took a few extra moments to get acquainted with Alysane as he would try to begin making his moves onto her during the feast that was to take place later in the evening. Once the formalities were out of the way and everyone was introduced, Garlan turned back to Jon before speaking up.

"Jon, there are more problems down South then what the ravens bring to you and it's worse then just the death of Lord Arryn as the Hand. Some of the Lannister bannermen have been harassing my borders over the last few years and threatening to start a war between the Tyrells and the Lannisters. Plus, there have been sightings of Greyjoy longships going off the coast of my lands for the last few months as I fear they might be planning something also. Worst yet however, I fear that the death of Lord Arryn might not have been natural as right now Lord Bartholomew Lannister himself is in Kings Landing trying to secure the position of Hand. If that happens, there might be war as I have fears that he has been looking to either try to rid my House or try to make himself King. I don't have any hard evidence, but the last few years have shown me that our King Aegon Targaryen the VII has become more under the influence of the Lannisters has he won't even acknowledge me in court anymore. However, we can discuss that more in depth later as right now I wish to pay respects to your late brother's grave and to the shrine here in Winterfell to the men that died in that last battle as 2,000 of them were my late brother's bannermen. Lead on please."

With that, Garlan issued a few orders to his Captain of the Guard to have the bannermen outside of Winterfell finish preparing camp before Garlan followed Lord Stark and the others to the crypts below Winterfell as Garlan would pay respect to Jon's late brother and to the others that died in the last battle of the Greyjoy Rebellion.

by **Yanalia** » Fri May 24, 2013 9:13 pm

Even as he was talking, Jon noticed Garlan watching his daughter out of the corner of his eye. Alysane, of course, was oblivious; she wasn't one to notice such things. Jon was glad for it. She needed to marry; she was twenty-seven already, and her two younger siblings already wed. She was so damn obstinate, though. Even when the crown prince was offered her, she refused. That had been a difficult conversation with the king, who demanded to know why his eldest son would have to settle for the second daughter of a lord subordinate to hi. Jon had convinced him, somehow; but it wasn't easy, and neither the king nor the prince were too happy for it. Fortunately, Lyra had helped greatly; she was very kind to the prince as soon as Jon told her the duty fell to her. Their marriage had been the better for it, and Jon hadn't had to answer to the king's wrath. Now, Lord Tyrell might have Alysane's hand. Good. Garlan was a fine man, and the Tyrells were a fine family. Good friends to the North, all these years, since the damned rebellion. He'd give his daughter to Garlan happily, if the time came. The obstacle would be, well, Alysane, but hopefully Lord Tyrell could persuade her.

Upon hearing the news of the happenings in the South, Jon frowned and shook his head. Southron lords and their politics. Always reaching for power. Especially the Lannisters. He didn't trust them farther than he could throw Lord Bartholomew. Of course he would go beg for his old position back not a moment after the last Hand died. Jon wouldn't have put much past him, but the murder of the Hand of the King? That would need a lot of gall, and proof was needed to support these conclusions. But Garlan seemed to think it, which was enough for Jon's suspicions to be raised. House Tyrell could be trusted. Loyal friends to the North. And Garlan's concern for his brother and the rest of the dead was touching. He respected him for that. Lord Tyrell put sincerity behind his statements. Jon nodded silently when Garlan made the offer and gestured to his wife, who took the rest of the Stark family to the feast. As Rickard turned to walk away, Jon stopped him. He was old enough for this now, to pay respects with a high lord.

"Rick. Come down with us." His son only nodded. The three turned and walked through the castle to the Winterfell crypts. They got many looks as they walked by. Lord Stark and his son were of course a relatively common sight in the castle, but Lord Garlan Tyrell not so much. The smallfolk talked in hushed tones excitedly as the group went by. When they finally reached the crypts, Jon took a torch and lit it, enough lighting for all of them. He gestured for the other two to follow, and they went down into the solemn darkness. The first Starks, the Kings of Winter, loomed over them, with their direwolves and swords. The oldest monuments showed their remarkable age, as the swords placed upon them had rusted into nothingness, while cracks appeared in the monument itself. The three walked in silence, out of respect for the history that this place represented. Finally, they reached the last two crypts, in which lay Jon's father and brother. They stopped and looked in silence for some time at the monuments.

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Sat May 25, 2013 5:05 pm

Winterfell Crypts

As he followed Rickard and Jon through the crypts of Winterfell, Garlan kept silent to himself out of respect for the dead. Looking at the various monuments from the first Starks to the other Kings of Winter, Garlan was in silent admiration for the amount of history that was preserved and how the Starks themselves had been able to stand the test of time through the long history of Westeros. When they finally reached the two monuments of Jon's late brother and father, Garlan stood silent for a few moments before the crypts out of respect. After some time had passed, Garlan reached into his satchel and pulled out two small golden momentums that represented House Tyrell and placed them on the tomes of the two deceased Starks. The two golden momentums represented the bond that both House Stark and House Tyrell had since the Greyjoy Rebellion and Garlan wanted to continue that bond for many years as he knew that only the Starks and the Tyrells were the true supporters to House Targaryen and as such, Garlan needed to do everything he could to preserve that bond.

After he placed the two momentums down, Garlan spoke a small prayer in hopes that even after all of these years that both Jon's father and brother had found peace in their respected afterlife. With that said, Garlan looked to Jon and Rickard as he spoke in a slight whisper."I am sorry for what happened to your father and brother all of those years ago, Jon. Even though I was just a baby at that point, I feel that my late brother could have done something to help prevent that battle from turning out the way it did. However, were my brother might have failed in the past, I will make sure I will succeed. Jon, I am in need of a wife as I am the last true Tyrell left from my father, Lord Gregory Tyrell. My two half brothers from my mother's second marriage cannot inherit the throne to Highgarden and the reach so I need to wed and have children. I would like to ask for your blessing for me to wed your eldest daughter Alysane. I know about some of the issues she has had in the past, but I believe I can be the man she will fall in love for. It will make our Houses stronger and help preserve my family name."

As Garlan finished the last part, he knelt before Jon Stark as he continued to speak. "Lord Stark, ever since my father died, I have considered you a father and a true friend. Please allow me to wed your daughter so that our houses can be truly joined at last." With that, Garlan waited to see how Lord Stark would respond.

by **Yanalia** » Sat May 25, 2013 7:49 pm

Jon looked at the monuments in silence and sadness, remembering the deaths of his family members. Both, so unexpected. Lord Karlon Stark seemed a man invincible, the spirit behind the North. When the Blackfyre rebellion came, it was he who had rallied the North to ride south when many lords had wanted to stay out of southron affairs. Karlon had remembered House Stark's duty to their rightful kings, as well as their duty to protect the realm and enforce the rightful lordship of the Tyrells. It was Karlon who had befriended House Tyrell during his southern campaigns, Karlon who had brought his forces back north to defend his land, Karlon who fearlessly faced the Greyjoys at Deepwood Motte. When a Greyjoy bannerman treacherously slew him from behind in the chaos, the Stark forces had collapsed. Jon shook his head. His father had left too soon. And his brother after that...it had been too much for a young lord to bear. He felt Rodrik's eyes bearing down on him. He should have protected him...Jon stood in silence as Garlan put his offering on the graves.

"Thank you, Lord Garlan." As Lord Tyrell continued to speak, Jon became surprised. He was bold, that was quite clear. Jon had a certain respect for that. Garlan would be a fantastic match for his daughter. A Lord Paramount from a family very close to his own. But Jon looked beyond that. It was not House Stark's way to play the political game. Garlan was also a good man, an honorable man. The mementos he had placed on the crypts of Rodrik and Karlon were proof of that much. Jon would gladly give his daughter's hand to this man.

"House Stark and House Tyrell have been intertwined these twenty-seven years I have ruled the North. Even before that, we have always been united in our support for honor, duty, and loyalty. We showed it, we two, when treachery befell our rightful rulers. We came to their aid in full force. We stood together against the enemy. We refused to back down. And then, even when the fight was nearly over, House Tyrell showed its loyalty by coming to our defense, as we had done for you, and sending forces north. When my brother was struck down cruelly, we grieved together.

"I have nothing but the utmost respect for the Tyrell family. Lady Janna has been very good to me. More than I deserve, at times. She came into a place with traditions and customs so different from her own, at the age of fifteen, no less. Her newly wed husband had to leave immediately for war, and did not return for some time. Despite this hardship, she loved me with all her heart, as I do for her. Your brother, your father, both strong and honorable lords. Both of them were good friends to me. And you, Garlan, have shown your respect for our bond with the offerings you have placed here.

"Lord Garlan of the House Tyrell, you have my blessing to marry my daughter."

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Sat May 25, 2013 11:02 pm

Winterfell|Main Keep

Smiling as Lord Stark spoke about honor and family before giving his approval for a marriage with his daughter Alysane, Garlan rose from his feet and clasp the hand and shoulder of Jon Stark as he spoke up. "Thank you so much, my friend. I promise that neither yourself or Alysane will regret this marriage. However, to be fair with Alysane, I will try to win her heart first before you try to mandate it as I want it to be fair to her and I don't want to start the marriage off on the rocks. We can discuss more tomorrow perhaps during the hunt but for now I feel that your wife and my sister wants the three of us back up top as I would imagine that she spent alot of time and work in trying to set up this feast. Lead the way." With that, Garlan followed Jon and Rickard back through the hollowed crypts of the fallen Starks so they could make their way to the main hall of the keep to partake in the feast and festivities that the Starks had prepared for the evening. After a bit of time after exiting the crypts, Garlan dismissed himself to get ready for the feast as he was still in his traveling clothes from the long journey from the Reach. With afternoon starting to fade into early evening, Garlan and a few of his captains soon dressed and made their way back to the main keep of Winterfell as they were again greeted by Jon and Janna Stark. After a few pleasantries outside, Garlan and his men followed the Lord and Lady of Winterfell into the main keep to join the others in the feast that had been prepared for his arrival in Winterfell.

As it had been a few years since last visiting Winterfell, Garlan was taken aback by the largeness of the main hall and the certain feel of ancient lore and histroy that surrounded it as it had been one of the original strongholds since the arrival of the First Men. From the large fires set off to the side to keep the hall warm to the many tables of food and wine presented to the mass of people already enjoying themselves, Garlan had forgotten about how the North was well known for it's largeness and hospitality. Greeting with some of the people at the feast, Garlan soon made his way to the head table with the rest of the Stark Family as he partook in some wine before listening to Lord Stark speak to officially open the feast.

by **Yanalia** » Sun May 26, 2013 11:37 am

Once they exited the crypts, Jon said his temporary farewell to Garlan and walked back toward the keep with Rickard. His son started the conversation first.

"Do you think Alysane will agree?"

Jon looked at his son. "I don't know. You know her. She doesn't want to be given a husband. She wants to choose."

Rickard shook his head. "Or not marry at all. I don't rightly understand it. I mean, you married Mother like that, and so did I."

Jon shrugged. "She doesn't understand that. But I won't force her. Not in this. But Garlan is a good man."

"So was the crown prince. But she didn't take a liking to him, did she?"

"I could see her concern there. He...wasn't the best fit there for her."

"You gave the king Lyra, though." Rickard looked puzzled.

"I did." Jon looked at his son. "When you rule, you'll have to make such decisions. Lyra liked him well enough. I want you to remember, Rickard, it is not our way to marry family members unwillingly for politics. Garlan is a strong match, to be sure, but unless Alysane wants to marry him, I will not make her."

Rickard nodded. "Of course, Father. Our way is the old way."

Jon clapped his son on the shoulder. "We'd best be getting to the castle, then."

At the feast, Jon greeted Lord Garlan once more, the two walking up to their place at the high table. Once everyone was seated, Stark men and Tyrell men alike, next to each other, Jon stood for a small speech.

"Greetings to our friends from the south. I apologize for the cold. I am afraid that, in these temperatures, that gilded flower on your banners may wilt," Jon said with a chuckle. "House Stark and the North is grateful for the friendship of the Reach. Such great friendship between such Great Houses greatly benefits the realm. Together, we have kept the king's peace successfully all these years. Lord Garlan, I am honored by your presence here today. And now, to feasting!"

Once the feast had begun, Jon poured himself some wine and went over to sit next to Lord Tyrell. They had important matters to discuss. Offering Garlan the wineskin, he began the conversation: "So, what are these news from the South?"

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Sun May 26, 2013 7:33 pm

Winterfell|Main Keep

As he enjoyed himself for a bit alone overlooking the crowd of people at the feast, Garlan still kept a watchful eye on Alysane as she spoke with other ladies of the court. Still trying to think of how he would win Alysane's heart, Garlan's mind was off and about when Lord Stark took the seat next to him and asked how everything was going on in the South. Taking another sip of wine, Garlan turned to Jon as he began to speak. "Well....where to begin on that end. As you already know, Lord Finius Arryn died as Hand of the King under unusual circumstances and as such, King Aegon the VII is now looking for a new hand to replace his old one. I already informed you earlier that Lord Bartholomew Lannister is probably in Kings Landing trying to make his case to resume his old post once again, and it seems all to convenient that the position should open up only after Bartholomew's children had fully grown. In any case, I sent a raven to the King asking him to appoint my uncle Ser Gregore Tyrell, his Maester of Coin, to the position for his over twenty years of loyal service. How that will play out, I am not sure, but I am already preparing for the worst and my lands have already secretly began to ready their banners and soldiers if needed." As Garlan paused to take another sip of wine from his cup, he cautiously waved his hand at Alysane Stark to catch her attention as he wanted to speak and court her after he was done with Lord Stark.

After taking another sip of wine and seeing that Lady Alysane was beginning to make her way over to the head table, Garlan continued his conversation with Jon about the other happenings in the South. "Besides the Hand dying, in the Reach in particular I've had problems along the borders with some of the lesser Lannister Bannermen for the last few years trying to raid villages and pillage my ample supplies. Between the normal problems of being a Lord Paramount to dealing with the Lannisters, the only major problem I've encountered are reports of ship raiding off the coasts of Oldtown and all along the southern half of Westeros. While I would like to blame them on pirates and bandits, from the descriptions I've been receiving we might be dealing with a rogue faction of the Greyjoys I would presume. Besides those problems and an assortment of others, life for me has been busy. What about yourself Lord Stark? How does the North fell well with you and your family considering the last few years since we've met? And when are you going to make a trip down to Highgarden to come see me for a change friend?"

by **Yanalia** » Mon May 27, 2013 2:44 pm

Jon contemplated this news in silence, pensively drinking his wine. Before continuing, he decided he would have some of the delicious food around him. He reached for a succulent piece of honeyed chicken and also sliced a piece of venison pie for himself, offering both dishes to Lord Tyrell.

"Try these, Garlan. They're quite good." He chewed a piece and swallowed, then washed it down with some wine.

"That does sound troubling indeed. The Lannisters are not to be trusted. Especially Lord Bartholomew. Always reaching for power, that lot. But murder? Would even they have the gall to do that?" Jon sipped his wine. "Regardless, I should hope the king has the sense not to name him Hand. But his lordship can be quite...persuasive. As for these attacks by other houses...are you certain this is their work? Have you shared your suspicions with the king? If what you say is true, these are very serious crimes. The Greyjoys..." Jon shook his head angrily. "I wouldn't doubt they were raiding your lands. Paying the iron price, they call it." He drank more wine and took a bite of pie. "As for my family, we have been doing quite well for ourselves. The North has been peaceful, at least as much as can be expected, and relatively prosperous. There have been a few--" Jon saw Garlan's gesture to Alysane. "My lord, it is clear that other matters occupy your attention. We can speak of this later." He smiled knowingly as Alysane got up to walk to the table.

Alysane had been conversing with her brother Hary when Lord Tyrell beckoned her over. Took an interest in her, did he? She'd been courted by various lords in the past, even the crown prince himself. This one wouldn't be any different. But...the Tyrells were so close to the Starks; her father would pressure her to do it. No matter. She could do what she liked. But it wouldn't be polite to ignore Lord Garlan completely, so she excused herself from her brother and walked up to her father and Garlan, seating herself on Lord Tyrell's right. She acknowledged him with a bow of her head.

"My lord. A pleasure to see you here today." She knew being polite would cause the least trouble for her in the future.

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Mon May 27, 2013 9:05 pm

Winterfell|Main Keep

Listening to Lord Stark for a bit, Garlan made a mental note to finish his conversation with Jon later as it seemed that there were some issues that the Lord of Winterfell wanted to discuss before Alysane came over. Even though that Garlan wanted to win over Lady Alysane's heart, he knew as Lord Paramount of the Reach that he still had a duty to protect his alliance with the Starks and also protect the realm from any dangers that might threaten it. It was a good thing, however, that Garlan would still have plenty of time to talk to Jon as either tomorrow or the day after the two would be out hunting and that time alone would be enough to discuss more details that Garlan had on his chest. However, with Alysane coming over to the head table and introducing herself, Garlan's focus was solely on the beauty in-front of him as his facial expression went blank for a few moments just staring into Alysane's eyes. As Garlan looked into Alysane's grey eyes, he felt her soul looking into his as she resembled so much of her mother and father and to Garlan, she was the Flower of the North.

Now, while it wasn't a wide known fact at the time in Westeros, Alysane's mother Lady Janna was only a Tyrell in name and not in blood or relation as she and her family had been far removed from the family for generations. As such, many of the lords of Westeros knew of this history and understood the idea that it was possible for a Tyrell to marry a very distant relative as it was not frowned up. Given the matter that they were separated by many generations between themselves, there would be no public knowledge or issue of the matter brought up. However, that wasn't on Garlan's mind as he was solely focused on the beauty and matter that Alysane presented herself in. Between her long, flowing brown hair to her tall and slimness that was the look of perfection to Garlan, Alysane was a true northern beauty and as such Garlan couldn't keep his blue eyes from staring back. With his short blonde hair and muscular built, Garlan knew he command attention back in South and had plenty of suitors, but from this point on his sole objective was to get Alysane's blessing for the two of them to be wed. Smiling as Alysane introduced herself and took a seat next to him, Garlan waited until Alysane was done speaking before he made his move.

Once Alysane was done speaking, Garlan reached into his satchel and rummaged for a few moments until he found the item he was looking for. Made only this afternoon once he had received the approval of Alysane's father, Garlan produced a rose melted and hammered out of pure gold that almost made it look lifelike. Presenting it to Alysane, Garlan smiled and kissed the hand of Alysane before he spoke back in reply. "Lady Alysane.....The Flower of the North. My lady.....there are not enough words in any language to begin explaining the amount of radiance and beauty you exhibit here today. It has been too far long since we last met two years before during my last visit here in the North and I must say you become more radiant and beautiful with each year. So how have you fared the last few years, my lady?" As Garlan finished with his opening, he left hand was clearly twitching from being nervous as he wasn't the best with trying to keep calm and collective in the face of Alysane and the matter that her father was on his other side. Hopefully, as Garlan was praying in his head, Alysane would be polite and eager to talk as Garlan wanted to talk a bit before he confused his true intentions to Alysane.

by **Yanalia** » Tue May 28, 2013 10:33 am

He was laying it on far too thick. Jon knew this strategy wasn't going to work. Alysane wasn't one to be impressed by empty flattery, regardless if it was meant truly or not. And the flower...well, that would have mostly the same effect.

To tell the truth, Jon was not entirely accurate in his appraisal of Alysane's reaction. She was somewhat impressed by the flower, to tell the truth. It was truly a work of art and an example of master craftsmanship. She would examine it closer later, however. She didn't want Garlan getting any ideas if she looked at it too closely. When he started in his whole spiel, it was all she could do to keep from laughing. Is this how they treated ladies in the south? Throw a million flowery compliments that didn't really mean much? She was quite familiar with it; the good prince had used the tactic to no end, and was for some reason frustrated when it didn't work. She honestly didn't get it. Was she supposed to be impressed right about now? Once Lord Garlan had finished his speech, Alysane smiled.

"Flowers don't grow in the winter, my lord. And I think there's something in our house words about winter." Alysane couldn't help being sarcastic at this point. She'd tried to be polite, but Garlan's comments just made her laugh inside. "Father, tell me true, are you blinded my ever-growing radiance? It must be so difficult to see." With a small smile, she poured herself a glass of wine and leaned back in her chair. Sipping it, she continued. "As for the last two years, they've been mostly uneventful. Well, I did...get to know the crown prince quite well. We get along swimmingly. Otherwise, I've just been here, mostly. Just...passing the time. How have you been, my lord? How are things in the flowery seat of the South? Careful, my lord, don't look right at me; you might be blinded."

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Tue May 28, 2013 5:45 pm

Royal Office of Customs and Treasury|Kings Landing

As with any day within the Royal Office of Customs and Treasury, Maester of Coin Ser Gregore Tyrell was spending his time going through the realm's expenses and revenue since he had been held up the days before with the death of the Hand of the King and tending to King Daeron's requests. While the last twenty years had been kind to the Royal Treasury as Gregore had managed to keep a tight reign on expenses and taxes, the Maester of Coin knew that the money coming in and leaving needed to have a tight reign over it as Gregore didn't want Westeros or the realm for that matter to owe money back to the Iron Bank of Bravvos as the scene had been some thirty years prior during the Blackfyre Rebellion and the other conflicts to go with it. As such, Gregore was happy for now that the Royal Treasury was in good standing and that all of the Kingdoms were paying their taxes to the Crownlands.

Sitting as his desk this particular day, however, would be different as soon Gregore heard a tap on his door. His mind heavily involved with the records of the various transactions of the Treasury, Ser Gregore harshly spoke up to the door as the knocking had broken his concentration. "What is it, you fool of an assistant? Everyone in the Royal Treasury knows that I am trying to do my daily record keeping of the finances. Whatever it is better be damn important or so help the Seven I will have you reprimanded." As Gregore finished, however, he looked towards the door as his facial expression went pale for a moment as Lord Bartholomew Lannister himself was standing in the doorway. Taking a few moments to realize that he was talking to a Lord Paramount, Ser Gregore quickly rose from his seat as he spoke up. "Lord Lannister...what a surprise to see you here in my office. Forgive for my words from earlier, but I honestly thought you were that damned assistant of mine that always has a question for me. Tell me, what brings you to the Maester of Coin's office here today?"

by **Brotherhood Steel the 2nd** » Tue May 28, 2013 6:17 pm

Winterfell Main Hall|Evening

Listening to Lady Alysane and seeing the expressions on both her face and on Jon's, Lord Garlan could listen and see that the typical compliments would not work in the case of Alysane to try to woe her over. While Garlan did truly mean what he said in his opening words towards Alysane, the young Lord of the Reach soon realized that he would have to try other tactics to try to win over Alysane's heart. It was comforting to know that Alysane did have a sense of humor in her, even if was directed towards Garlan's shortcomings in his opening remarks, as it would give both Alysane and Garlan something to build on to at least start to understand one another better. As such, Garlan smiled the entire time during Alysane;s remarks and took a few sips of wine himself to ease his mind and words before he would respond back.

Once Alysane was done speaking, Garlan finished his cup of wine before having it refilled and had a few more sips before he returned comments back to Alysane. "I see your reputation proceeds you with your sense of humor and your bluntness towards my opening remarks and I must say, I am actually thankful that you pointed them out to me. Down in the South and particularly in the Reach, it is expected of me to respond in that matter I opened with as it is tradition and the way of culture down in the South. However, I like to be an open-minded man and listen and try to learn the different cultures that Westeros offers as being a well-rounded person in mind and spirit can be beneficial to yourself and to the people you serve and rule over. I was being honest with you about your beauty Alysane as I do believe that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and that is the cold and factual truth. Seeing as you want someone to be honest and down to this world with you, I will be that person as being a Lord and having to keep formal can be a drag sometimes." As Garlan paused, he had another sip of wine as he made himself comfortable in his chair before he would continue on with more conversation with Alysane.

Once Garlan was situated with himself again, he continued with his conversation with Alysane. "As far as how I have been in the South these last few years....to be honest with you it has been rough and it has been a pain in my ass. Between dealing with the Lannister bannermen trying to raid my people's villages along the border to dealing with ship raiding along the coast and a possible attempt of another rebellion from the Greyjoys, my flowery throne in Highgarden has become more like the Iron Throne with its' uncomfortableness to sit on. However, it has kept me well informed with trying to better serve my people and trying to help the realm, which is all one in my position can try to do. However.....I would like to have a family one day and have someone to be both my wife and friend as I feel the Reach is missing that component of a woman's touch and judgement to better serve the people. There is only so much I can do alone and eventually I will die. If I die, there will be no more Tyrells and then the Reach will fall into Civil War for the various minor families to try to claim the position of Lord Paramount of the Reach." Taking another pause, Garlan's face grew slightly grim as it was the truth of the matter of the last part he mention. As he was the last true Tyrell, if Garlan didn't have a son or daughter soon to inherit the throne, the Tyrell name would forever die off and thus no longer rule the Reach. Taking another sip of wine, Garlan finished another cup of wine before having it refilled.

His grim facial expression still showing, Garlan again continued on. "Lady Alysane, I will not lie to you. I wish to marry you so you can become my wife and become Lady of the Reach. My feelings for you are true as I have known you enough over the years to admire your spirit and admire your beauty; whether you believe me or not. However, I will not force you to marry me as you are your own person and can make your own decisions. I will be here for the next few days to talk business with your father here before I head back to the Reach, but I want to also spend more time with you also to try to prove to you that I mean what I say. The choice is yours in the end and I will continue to respect you no matter what happens and what your decision is." As Garlan finished, he finished another cup of wine and feasted for a bit as he waited for a response from Alysane.

by **Yanalia** » Wed May 29, 2013 12:07 pm

Alysane sat in contemplative silence as Lord Tyrell spoke of his motives and desires. She appreciated his openness about the matter; she'd seen suitors circumnavigate the globe twenty times before they finally said anything of worth. He also revealed matters of politics to her; this too she liked greatly. Too often she was bored by discussion of the latest court gossip or of some tourney that had just gone on. This, however, was interesting, and showed much respect.

"My lord, you certainly get to the point relatively quickly," she said with a small smile. Of course, he was still laying it on pretty thick, but at least it wasn't totally unbearable. "Too many high lords speak for what seems like days before they reach anything that vaguely looks like a point. As for the comfortableness of your chair in Highgarden, I am afraid I cannot help with that. Perhaps you should call the man who made this," she said, gesturing towards the golden flower. "He certainly seems competent. Now, as to your troubles with the other Houses," Alysane leaned back and thought for a few moments. "I trust you have deployed your fleets over your shores on the west? But likely they haven't been able to find them. Perhaps you could draw them in. Send some rich merchant ship out there with only a light defense; that should tempt them. Near some sort of bay where you could hide your main force in the meantime. Then when it is attacked, you counter with your own forces. You wouldn't even necessarily need to win such a battle, as long as you were able to take a few of them captive. Should be sufficient proof of Greyjoy disloyalty, and they should stop. Or they could be crushed again. I'm sure my father would enjoy that." Jon had already left the table, so he wasn't around to hear that particular comment. "As for the Lannisters, well, that's more difficult. They're much more competent at politics than the Greyjoys and probably could avoid the king's justice. But try to capture someone whom you can use as conclusive proof."

Meanwhile, Jon had silently walked over and sat back down next to his wife.

"Do you think it's working?" he said conversationally.

"I'm not sure. To be honest, likely not, but I could see her not protesting too much at least."

"I was hoping she'd want to."

"Jon, your hopes are quite grandiose. I think ambivalence is the best we can hope for. Love can come later. As it did with you and I."

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