King's Landing

The Grand Hall felt alight, the young Reach Lord looking like his beautiful self. Garland's appearance was a little tamed back, his beard shaven shorter, his hair shorter than that of which he would normally have- though it still came down to his neck, curled and brushed. Though apart from this, his green and golden tunic and clothes, from wrist to ankle, seemed to already portray his willingness to spend money, a pair of leather boots that came up his to his shins. The embroidery of the Rose, a singular one, was embroidered across his tunic, though Garland looked like he had clearly been willing to spend a little more money than Gregor had whenever the older Lord had gone to a feast.

Sipping down a little of the Arbor, he placed his cup down, a distinct grin on his face, Garland looking across to Aegon in the distant, the sight of the newly crowned King enough to remind him of where his loyalties lay. He turned to his side, looking across to Alerie's figure, taking a seat by his side. He had only one other Tyrell here that he expected to see- Alestair, who was yet to arrive, still dealing with some sort of detail somewhere else. Garland did not know, and did not concern himself with it. He was not a guest of whom had importance, gravity to be right here, right now. But as he knew full well, Aegon would want to see the faces of he Lords that ran his Seven Kingdoms for him, and Garland did not wish to disappoint.
"You seem to have a lot on your mind, brother." Alerie said, breaking Garland's glance into nothingness, as he chuckled, turning his head. Alerie had also joined Garland in spending an exuberant amount of money, particularly on her own dress. The golden, white and green coloured dress, combined with a corset and lace, fitted her thin and young nature well, almost atypical of a lady of the Reach. Probably showing more cleavage than most Northeners would have considered acceptable, but alas, this was the ways of The Reach, Alerie knew- her dark red hair tucked into a bun, rather than left completely flowing. If Garland was the hansome, bearded Lord Tyrell, then Alerie was clearly the other side of that coin, the suave, thorny Tyrell that sat quiet behind him. 
"Of course, there is much to deal with. The fate of the Kingdoms, placed back into the hands of one young man. There's been too much blood these years. I was lucky not to be in the worst of it, many lords that I remember are not here for that reason. It has only been two years since I arrived in Highgarden, stopped that squabble of ours. And Aegon has got far less time than I did, and he's far younger. So that's on my mind." Garland replied, sipping down a little more, before then cutting deep into the pig laid out on the table. He cut a section of it's rump out, and placed it down onto his plate, taking it carefully as Alerie chuckled in response to Garland's comment, however serious it was.
"I think it's more than that. You're always looking for the next woman to bed, aren't you? The Young Rose, on the prowl." 
"Well...just because there are matters to hand, I never do stop looking, sister. Like you never stop looking for the next big Knight to take you into his arms. You aren't getting drunk beyond measure next time." 
"Ashford was an exception, I swear..." She said, as she reached over, pouring herself a little more wine, though she did heed her brother's advice. It was not like her to do something like that, a crack in her usual sharp self. A little lack of responsibility.
"You were lucky I arrived before he took your innocence away. You can be so irresponsible sometimes."
"Like you?"
"You always seem to clear your name by tarnishing mine, Alerie. You always were the one for that."
"Well, it works well, doesn't it?" She added, chuckling as Garland simply didn't give response, knowing this was a pointless avenue to carry on down, but at least was a playful conversation. She drank a little more wine, wiping her chin before leaning back in her wooden chair, adjusting her figure a little, the dress going halfway down her arms, her soft hands clearly seeing a very different world to Garland's, though of course, she was far more competent at playing the game that so many wished to play here. She could just tell that the webs here were intricately woven by those spiders who played the game well and killed the flies they saw, the insignificant and ignorant Lords that chose to reject the complexities of politics here. She knew full well that while Garland had a Lordship to run, she had no such matters. And she could only guess, that with Garland's approval, a suitable Husband would come soon, and there would be another good reason to feast. 

The weeks had leading up to the Coronation had been eventful, the Garland and Alerie travelling the Roseroad, stopping at castles of minor houses en route, to at least remind the lesser lords of Garland's presence. The journey had been almost uneventful, apart from a little debauchery on a drunken night in Ashford. Most of the advisers were left behind to administer the regional capital in Highgarden, and it was just the two of them that would come to King's Landing, plus a small detachment of Tyrell guards, a number that would be suitable to protect Garland from bandit and highwaymen on the Roseroad. Garland was taking it far more cautious than usual, in that The Reach was still an unstable part of the known world. Food may have been plentiful, but people were still divided, and bitter about the end of hostilities. He liked to think things were going back to normal, but in parts of The Reach, minor Houses still were upset and needed to be put in their place. Garland had come to this acutely aware of what the new King would want, and while he desired no seat on the Council, he knew that a man such as Alestair would be ideal in such a position, the closer to the Crown he was, the better. And while Garland's knowledge of the delicate intricacies of King's Landing was minimal, he could only guess that the Tyrells still had a part to play in this new world that emerged with Aegon III on the throne, young and mouldable in his nature. Alestair would be a good Regent, and while it would take a significant effort to make it happen, Garland was convinced he had the right team to make it happen. The Tyrells did not fight in this war, the one that he could tell was only beginning to see old wounds heal. And yet it felt like a double edged sword, Garland aware that good looks, a sharp mind and the ability to wield a sword were not going to be enough to make that change in mentality come tomorrow. People had memories, after all.

Sitting up, Garland turned to some of the others at the table, then back to his sister, taking another slice out of the pig, the hall filling and filling with people. There was a grandeur about it all- he remembered tales of previous Targaryen coronations from his father and other relatives that had been privileged enough to even come close to attending, Alerie's handmaidens, Talia and Megga came over; both barely over the age of twelve, looking concerned with their older guardian's wellbeing.
"Ah, it is good to see you both. Get mine and Garland's chambers cleaned up, if you haven't already. Then you can join the other handmaidens. Well, run along." She said in a stern yet motherly voice, as they both nodded, moving back through the thick crowds near the tables, going straight out of the halls, among the immense volume of people that were also mingling around.
"Alestair should be here, something must have held him up. Seven hells, he's survived this long here in King's Landing, so it's not as if he's gone and gotten himself bloody killed." Garland peered over, as Alerie shook her head, looking back at her older brother.
"I doubt it. He's not stupid, so surely not. What about the other Lords?"
"Hmmm...there's a few I can see. I ought to have a word with Lord Hightower, or Otto. I haven't seen that boy in months. It would be good to catch up with him." With that, Garland took another swig of his drink, looking around and bathing his eyes on the festivities once more. It was good to see that Aegon saw fit to have a good feast, at least that part of rulership came well to the young King, Garland thought to himself. 

---

Highgarden

The rain poured gently outside, as Rickard turned the page to the back cover, then turning to the older hooded man in the far corner of the room, the wooden table that Rickard sat next to filled with books of various types. In particular, Rickard was reading the histories of the First Men, those that of which little was known. Some tales, some realities, all blurred of course, in the books he read. 
"Maester Aubrey, is there any more works I could read? I can't believe you never showed these to me before..." 
"There are more, but I would think it is time you got some sleep, lad." 
"Just a couple more chapters?"
"I'll see what I can find, but you should get some rest, Rickard. I promised your brother and sister I'd look after you."
"Fine." He simply said, as the Maester stood, the man in his mid-sixties or so, weathered but still physically able, something that compared starkly to Rickard. His weak disposition could be seen in the way he sat, he could barely hold himself for 

Looking out, Rickard slowly stood up, moving to the window to get a breather, using his cane to hold his weight a little, as he leaned on the ledge. Looking out, he could see the distant light from the houses further along the river, probably a metalworks that was causing the brightest light, from it's furnace. The world from here looked strange, to Rickard, it looked dead, as if there wasn't any significance in the world below at this time of night. The green meadows and gently flowing and meandering river couldn't be seen or heard from this part of the castle. It felt eerie, but the darkness was swallowing it all up, the trees, the rivers, the distant, distant hills and mountains, not observable even from the height of the castle. Rickard turned, as he heard the Maester come back in.
"I found something for you, but I really think you should get some sleep, young lad. It's a long book, it will keep you up all night, if you try and finish it. The works of the Children can wait."