[b]King's Landing[/b](with [@MrDidact] and [@kingkonrad])


The journey finally met its end, and Alester let the reins of his new horse loose for a brief second. The gargantuan sprawl of King's Landing, crowned by the Red Keep, was laid before his eyes. He had been a few times in the city, but it never failed to impress, the seat of power of the Targayens in the Seven Kingdoms. He uttered a small prayer to the Seven, thanking his luck to arrive at the city.

After all that happened in the reach, the travel had been somewhat restless, his paranoia acting up after the ambush. If the so-called Gardener spoke true, he was the brother of the Gardener pretender, and great wrath could be invoked in a second scuffle. Alester was courageous and he knew his way with the sword... but he knew better than to desire such heated battles. He patted his dented armor, as he shifted on the seat. It had been a closer call than he had cared to admit.

"King's Landing, ser Owen." He said to his prisoner, whom in deference, he had tried to treat him as a noble hostage, being the commander of the soldiers he had captured. His eyes met with him.

"Get a good look, It will be probably be a good silver lining upon the situation." He said, as he eyed the Goldcloaks and the other bannermen that had joined. He advanced slowly, trying to figure out, whom would greet him and his comitive, as the surviving merchants were making plans to sell their wares. He rustled his cape somewhat. It had been a bit torn since the battle but it was still serviceable. A good fox pelt. Like the ones he had carefully packed as gifts for the newlyweds, just in case.

Ser Owen stared at the city in open awe, watching as one of the dragons wheeled above it with a roar, "I've never seen the city or palace myself. But I have heard the tales. It is magnificent. If only I could visit it under better circumstances." 

At the gates to the city, they saw a delegation approach. In the lead were several knights and lords in armor with their banners flying. Alester could see the Mormont Bear, the black ship and onion of House Seaworth, and the bldody spear of House Slynt. Leading the procession were Ser Jorah Mormont, Ser Devan Seaworth, and Lord Commander Morros Slynt of the Gold Cloaks. Once the party arrived, it was the middle-aged Ser Jorah who spoke, "Lord Alester, well met. We were expecting you. The Queen and the King are awaiting you in the throne room with some of the Councillors." 

Jorah glanced at Owen, "I suppose this is the prisoner, the Knight Inquisitor spoke of? We can take him into our custody if you like. Then we can go on to the Red Keep, after finding lodgings for your men." 

"Well met, sers." He addressed curtly, before he looked at ser Owen. "Well, ser Owen. I come to regret we met in these circumstances, but you shall be in good hands. These people are from reputable houses." He addressed his prisoner. "Ser Owen ...Gardener, as he calls himself is a man of honor and has surrendered. He has not tried to escape either. Please see to his commodities as a man of his...chivalry should be." He said without skipping a beat. "As for the lodgings, I thank you. Please see to it. I shall also meet the Queen immediately. I will not make a queen wait for a comfy bed." He addressed Ser Jorah.

Ser Jorah nodded and inclined his head to Morros, who had his men take Ser Owen into custody. The Gardener knight looked back, with a nod and a small humorous smile, "An honor to make your acquantice my lord. Mayhaps you will put in a good word for me to their graces." They left and Ser Jorah said, "Fear not, he will be treated well. There is a tower room in the Red Keep for him, in deferrence to his birth and station. He will be settled there before the monarchs call upon him. Follow me, to the throne room." 

The rest of the group rode forward through the streets of King's Landing, smallfolk pointing out the battle-scarred Fox Lord as he rode by. They ascended Aegon's High Hill and were let into the Red Keep, Devan Seaworth peeling off to see to the lodging of the Florent men. The rest dismounted and Jorah and his men escorted Alester to the doors of the throne room. Armed men were in ample evidence, the guard being tripled since the attack on the Keep, men with the Stark and Targaryen livery rubbing shoulders with Gold Cloaks and men of several other houses. 

Ser Jorah led the way into the throne room and a Knight Herald pounded his scepter. Several nobles were in the galley but it was a quiet day with no petitions. Seated on the thrones were the King and Queen, looking as regal and impressive as ever. The Herald said, "Lord Alester Florent, Lord of Brightwater Keep!" 

Jorah bowed to the regents and bent the knee, motioning for Alester to do the same. King Jon was the one to speak. He didn't smile or frown and looked on calmly, "Lord Alester, welcome to the city. We missed you at the wedding, but you have my condolences for the death of your father. I also would like to thank you for the men you have committed to the action in the Red Mountains. Your loyalty is appreciated, my lord." 

Queen Daenerys said, "We understand you come to us with tidings? How goes the campaign against these Gardener upstarts?" 

Willas was in the hall, of course, the raven regarding the capture was of worth and importance to him, and he wanted to see it for himself, though he knew the prisoner would not be brought in as of yet. Alerie was not present, given she was away attending to other matters, but Willas was. Alester Florent, the man who had captured Ser Owen Gardener, the apparent. Merlin had placed his trust well, Willas guessed. He watched on, standing in the background, at the front of the nobles, looking on as he let Alester speak for himself. He would have a word with the Lord soon. After all, he would want to discuss matters his son's new ally.

Alester, almost inmediately bent his knee, crossing an arm over his chest, like a knight would, his head lowered. "Your graces." He saluted courteously. "I thank you for such kind words, given the state of affairs." He added, before pulling a parcel that he had been carrying all the way to the throne room, presenting them before the Royals. "Please accept these fox capes as late wedding gift for the Prince and his spouse. I had poachers and tanners running after foxes for months to produce the best quality." He said without much fanfare, indicating the gift to be delivered. 

He cleared his throat, as he prepared to explain himself. "Yes, your grace. I bid good tidings. Thanks to the invaluable support of ser Arthur Glennmore and Lord Merlin Tyrell, we have executed a plan to draw the pretenders out and capture Ser Owen Gardener, whom he claims is the brother to the pretender himself. We have also managed to seize quite a few score of his men, in no small thanks to the effectiveness of their plan." He elaborated, deliberatedly playing down the parts where the plan had gone to hell and he had to cut through the Gardener's men until they had surrendered. Glory was enticing, but Alester knew that discretion was also wise. Specially after the so called Gardener mouthing off that rumours had spread about his sword arm.

Jon nodded, while Daenerys smiled to herself, pleased, the King said, "Well done, my lord. I must commend Ser Arthur and our friend Willas' son when the time comes, but you we can give our thanks to immediately. You have the hospitality of the Red Keep so long as you desire it, and if you wish it, I would be honored to foster any of the Florent children at the palace. I thank you on my son's behalf as well." 

Daenerys then said, "This Ser Owen? Did he tell you anything about the Gardeners? Is there anything you can tell us about him that may be helpful? We will question him ourselves in due time, but any information or insight you could offer would be most helpful." 

Jon nodded, "Indeed, even the smallest detail may be important. Then we can call the man himself in here." 

Alester pondered for a moment, before. "Your grace, may I speak frankly?" He said to the Queen."The lad Is either an excellent mummer, or he truly believes he is a Gardener knight. He does look the part. He has also showed me signs that these pretenders have more connections in the Reach than I would have thought. He knew details about me that I tried to keep rather...discrete." He said, without missing a heartbeat. "Other than that he likes to flatter me, no doubt still hoping he may sway me. He is also skilled. Very skilled with the blade. This dent in the armor? His fault."

They both pondered that deeply with Daenerys saying, "We must find out the veracity of this blood claim, for it may be very ill if Gardeners really do live again. And if you speak of connections... then they may have spies and sympathizers throughout the Reach and the Kingdom." 

Jon stroked his chin, "A skilled sword? I can see that. These pretenders have been raiding for months now, and this is the first time we've managed to capture so many alive. Tell me, do you believe him to be a schemer or a man of chivalry? In your opinion?" 

"Both are not exclusive, your grace. But I do believe he is the latter type, although one can be never sure about pretenders who raid caravans." Alester pondered, letting his thoughts out. "It strikes me as being used for some purpose, rather than using others."

Jon nodded, "Very well, I suppose we shall see for ourselves. I suspect we will have to speak with him on multiple occasions, but we can get started now." 

Daenerys gestured to a few guards and moments later, Ser Owen was brought in. He was out of armor, in a plain doublet with no device but was also unchained, several guards escorting him. 

He stood before the throne and King Jon said, "So, you are the man who claims to be a Gardener?" 

The young knight nodded and said, "It is not just a claim. It is the truth. The blood of Garth Greenhand and the Gardener Kings flows in my veins. Just as it does in Lord Alester's and Lord Willas' there." Owen made eye contact with Willas, and there was an intense look before Daenerys said, "The last Gardener king died with all of his brothers, uncles, cousins, sons, nephews, grandsons, and all of his other kin on the Field of Fire." 

Owen's face became stiff and he visibly calmed and then said, "Yes, your ancestor broke the line. But our bloodline continued, and still runs strongly today, and now our name has risen once more." 

Jon asked, "So you are a nobleman with a blood tie to House Gardener most like. You look much like a Tyrell of Highgarden." 

Owen smiled slightly, "Rather the Tyrells much resemble the Gardeners of Highgarden. They are descended from the female line after all." 

Jon waved a hand, "Be that as it may. You are as much a Gardener in blood as any other Reach Lord. Your family plotted this little ascencion by taking on a prestigious name. The question is which family. What was your given name, Ser?" 

Owen shook his head, "I was not born with the name Gardener, that is true. But I earned it. And I will not betray our secrets, for I owe loyalty to my brother and my house as the rightful lords of Highgarden." 

Daenerys steppled her fingers, "You would do well to talk Ser Owen. Your life will be spared and you can live in comfort if you do. The easy way. Do not make us question you more sternly." 

Owen bowed his head, "Alas, I cannot. I keep my silence." 

Jon said, "Very well. Guards, take him back to his room. We shall begin to question him more closely soon." 

The Gold Cloaks came to place their hands on Ser Owen and march him away. Owen shared a glance with Alester and nodded his head while he delivered another significant look to Willas. 

Daenerys shook her head and Jon frowned before waving a hand to the Herald. He pounded his staff and the guardsmen escorted the rest of the onlookers out so the only ones in the Throne Room were the monarchs, their advisors, their guards, and Lord Alester. 

Jon turned to Willas, "What was your read on the situation, my lord? What were your thoughts, Lord Alester?" 

Alester shook his head slightly, as he eyed Ser Owen part way with him. "It is as I thought, he is being used. Someone planted in his head the thoughts of glory and honor and he is being used to provoke the Reach Houses into action. These Gardeners seems to be rebels borrowing the Green Hand's sigil rather than a legitimate house." He pondered. "I wonder if his brother of his has abandoned him already." He paused. "Maybe he was a Flowers, or a descendant of one, since what he told me betrayed that he had not seen much world outside the Reach." 

"...he certainly had not seen King's Landing before. Had he been of a house of certain repute he would have come to the wedding and thus would never make that one comment." He pondered.

Willas stared into Owen's eyes, as the Gardener did into his. He didn't say anything. He would have his words later. Willas was a kind, gregarious sort, he was a good man, most of all. Nobody would really be able to put much against him that he was a crooked politician who wanted chaos. He was a Lord Paramount from a Kingdom who for all looks and purposes, kept the books black and wasn't a complete asshole to people. He was friendly, and whilst not always a socialite, he was kind and well-meaning and mannered, someone to trust and know would do the best. But if he had to come to words with Owen, he would, in fact, he wantd to. He would do whatever it took to protect his Kingdom. He would be kind, friendly to some extent. But if Garlan, Ellion or Alerie were willing and even heard about this remotely, they'd have a far worse way with him. He almost didn't want that to happen, given the fact that he was a Reachman, and most likely from wat he saw, was potentially a bastard. Not an easy situation to ascertain all the facts in, none the less, but he had to give reply to Jon.

He walked out from the crowd, the Lord Tyrell walking with little limp, but still held an oak stick that proped his stance up.
"I can't say I know all the facts." Willas merely stated as he knew he had to, before turning to Jon, walking closer.
"But if I did need to amke a presumption, I'd say he was a Reachman that has blood of a Greenhand. While the Reach may have many pretty people....he seems to have blood of a noble house. Not a lowborn imposter." Lord Willas added, as he looked at Alester.

"As you say, he did a number on your plate, Lord Alester. So he certainly has his talents. That doesn't come by nature alone, albeit it helps. He had training. He had support. King Jon, if you will allow me to be frank in saying this." Willas was critical, analytical when he had to be, as he adjusted his stance, shaking his head.

"If this is an attempt to undermine the rule of the Reach, this isn't going to work. Him, or his brother....House Tyrell is the steward and rulers of a land that the Gardeners let burn under the Targaryen rule...quite literally. They let Reachmen and Westermen die in the Field of Fire, and the Gardener Kings and Princes were burnt alive for their mistakes....to fight a trio of dragons, of all things. Not for the good of any Reachman, they chose to die for their supposed honour rather than resist an invader that would burn every white castle in the lands of the Reach to conquer it....and all the peoples in it, peasant or knight, merchant or septon. Hardly a noble thing to do, it's bloody foolish and selfish. And we have ruled the lands with success...the kind that breeds stability and peace in our time, creating trade and a force for good that stands by the Iron Throne in times good and bad. House Tyrell will not capitulate a rule which has lasted three centuries and worked with House Targaryen as one of it's largest military forces and breadbaskets, not against to taunt it and die trying. Whatever threat he is, my house and order shall not lose it's hold against a set of Kings who failed in their task to protect the Kingdom of the Reach. May they exist, but find something better to do than ruling." Willas was a statesman in how he spoke sometimes the leaking of Olenna Tyrell's barbs leaking into his voice, though he was clearly beyond just quips- he spoke with a scholarly and learnered experience to do the right thing. 

"I will want to speak with Ser Owen, alone if I may my King. Perhaps he will not part the tongue, but I wish to converse with him a little more. Lord Alester, you made a remarkable effort. I will speak with you in private as well. My son's trust in you was well founded, and I imagine we have much to discuss." Willas added, as he awaited both their responses.

Daenerys replied, "There are many noblemen who live out their lives without seeing the capital. That knight was a young man, so it is not unbelievable. He may be a bastard or a younger born son, or from a house with no renown beyond a name. It is too early to tell, but I have my own suspicions about who this man may be. It is clear however, that he is part of a larger plot. The Durrandons, Reynes, and Fishers arising in other corners is no coincidence." 

Jon nodded, "Indeed. He seemed to have noble blood. Was trained in combat. Knew courtly manners. No lowborn, certainly. We will support you Willas of course, but we must be watchful. It is clear that someone has been providing political support and gold for their cause. And the Tyrells have ruled well for a long time, we all know this. But there will always be dissension. There are numerous nobles who think the Tyrells are upjumped stewards, as unfair and fallacious as that is. With the economic strain, uprisings, and monster attacks, this is a good oppurtunity for ambitious upstarts. We must be careful." 

Daenerys continued, "The King and I will question the man, along with my good sisters. But we will allow you a private meeting Willas. But there will be guards right outside his door at all times. We need him alive. I caution you to not act rashly." 

Jon smirked, "Not that we would seriously expect you to act rashly, my lord."

Willas shook his head, nodding afterwards.
"No such thing shall happen, on my honour. He fought honourably and is a man of the Reach nonetheless. It may be more for my interest and understanding, if you will. This is a direct threat to my Kingdom, after all. It'd be interesting to know his mindset." He replied honestly, as he knew that Jon and Daenerys had a point, not that he would have done so anyway. Willas was restrained, and knew nothing would come from anger after all.

"If this is a larger plot, it may be possible someting interconnects them. A transport of money, or supplies. They cannot operate alone, if they want to have a maximum destabilizing effect." Willas suggested to the two, knowing the economics a little behind a revolutionary fight, as he stood at the front of the crowd in front of the King.

"Mayhaps, my lord and graces. But above transfer of resources there will be messages rounding around, that I honestly think. There is only three.... ways it could be achieved. Ravenry, couriers...or...well...sorcery." Alester coughed as he talked forth."If we knew which, it could be intercepted. I hope ser Owen can shed light on that matter when you question him." He stod there, shifting his weight in his still kneeling position.

Jon inclined his head, "Indeed. We are pursuing multiple angles at the moment. We have received... troubling reports from the Red Mountains. If the theory that these rebels are working together is correct, then sorcerery very well may be their method of communication. I'll have the court sorcerers look into whether communications can be intercepted or tracked." 

Daenerys regarded both men and said, "The bottom line is that we will need to pursue all avenues of questioning with Ser Owen. Willas you will have your chance soon. Lord Alester, I'll have Ser Jorah find you suitable accomodations. There is something we needs must discuss with Lord Willas. Pray join us for supper." Jon nodded at Alester in farewell and Jorah stepped up to see the Lord Florent out. 

Jon turned to Willas and held out a raven scroll, "A report from Ser Gendry. They have taken the Spine, and the Red Mountains are almost entirely now in our control. But there's more. Read it." 

Willas took the scroll, reading the scroll. What was on it, seemed rather graphic. The worst case scenario. Willas knew this couldn't be good, not for the morale of the men or the overall supply.
"Seven hells." Willas rarely took occasion to swear, as he read through, slowly offering his hand to pass it back to King Jon.
"Garlan wrote to me a few days ago, and it wasn't exactly pleasant reading back then. This is worse. They want more soldiers, far more than our replenishing stock. And something more than just what I know. Something I feel you understand better. It can be done with the coffers, but some Kingdoms are going to take a hit far more than others. If I may speak with you in private, of course I can illustrate this point a little further." 

Jon nodded, rising from the throne with Daenerys following suit, "Let's discuss this in the small council chambers. I can have Sansa summoned, along with Lady Asha and Ser Jorah to discuss this. All of the other members of the council are presently engaged. You're Warden of the South, Willas, so we must talk further on this." Jon gave instructions to the royal steward and the three of them left to the council chambers. Lady Sansa, Lady Asha, and Ser Jorah soon followed suit. 

Daenerys quickly repeated the situation to them all and Sansa was the first to speak, turning to Willas, "What do you propose we do? The army we have sent has suffered a few thousand casaulties, but the vast majority of the host is still intact. The Dornish and Stormlanders are keeping men in reserve in case of any attack from the Stepstones, but do you believe we should commit more men as Gendry asks?"  

Willas followed close, looking across at the rest, nodding. In the absence of Tyrion, Willas knew that didn't make him the Hand. But he was the Master of Coin, and well, money spoke with a fair voice in these matters. He knew the situation well, because he was doing the accounting for it, after all. 

"We have to. We have no choice. We do that, Gendry and my brother are as good as dead. The Vulture King is only going to take candence in victory." Willas added, as he shook his head.
"But that means we need to start uttilizing resources from other parts of the Kingdoms. Soldiers, officers and men with extraordinary talents that simply may not be found among Southrons. And to do that would mean of thinking this war as a smarter one, not a brute force. We can't rush them, or simply drive them out of their hovels. I'm going to suggest we consider sending a contingent of men of the Riverlands and Westerlands southward, as a new supply of soldiers. Perhaps they may not see it as their fight, that they have their own conflicts. Realistically in a time of war like this where we are fighting on two fronts, that's a big ask for our finances, and for them. But it's a fairer one than grinding more men and putting three particular Kingdoms at risk. Kingdoms that could be underequipped to fight further wars, financially and in terms of men. That doesn't bode well for anyone....so perhaps it is time to ask a fair share for a mutual benefit to everyone."

"I am not the Hand, that job is for Tyrion. But if the money is allowed to speak, as I will say, I will suggest that we don't strangle the Southern Kingdoms as hard if it is a war that may ultimately be connected to the rest of our troubles somewhat, and that intertwines everyone. All these rebels, all of this.....I know little of the occult but it seems to be a problem we all share. By taking this action, it'll keep the coffers stable, without hitting any particular Kingdoms in particular. I know that reserves in Dorne, the Stormlands and Reach must be kept, in order to preserve the peace and a backline aganist any Vulture escapees. Which leaves little other choice anyway. So that seems to be my suggestion, my Queen." Willas added, the tact of a politician with some thought put into his words,  as he looked to Daenerys once more, awaiting a response.

Daenerys said, "Indeed. It is hard to deny that all of these matters are connected in at least some way, even if it is just oppurtunits taking advantage of struggle. But I do not know if it would be wise to send men away from the West and Riverlands. Neither the Vale. They are all facing their own issues. However, I can put out a call for hedge knights and free riders to join the campaign. That should give us enough men to replace who was lost without drawing more needed swords away from their homes." 

Jon shook his head and said, "We can do so. But I have some six thousand Gold Cloaks right here in the city. It's time to put them to use. I'll leave a thousand here as a defense. But I will take five thousand and levies from the other Crownlander houses and we shall march with Gendry. I'll fly out on Rhaegal within the week." 

Willas didn't entirely know how to react to the King, knowing he had a valid point, but he had to slow himself, consider a little more, even if it was uncomfortable. Jon was a brave and honourable King, he was probably one of the bravest men that Willas had ever had the chance to spend time with, given his history. But sometimes, even Willas knew Jon acted out of empathy, not out of logic or sound thought. He had the heart of a dragon, but it was best not to have a mind of one either. Willas only knew that was his job- to at least make him consider the implications somewhat, and he spoke without hesitation. He knew the King trusted him, it had been a number of years after all, and they were all past some formalities.

"It'll leave the city wide open. I'm no military mind, but even I can see that would leave King's Landing ripe for attack, and a thousand men may not be enough to protect it. Nor dragons, if there are some wilder beasts out there. The Gold Cloaks are not intended as an army. They're protectors of our capital, of the people of King's Landing. Not an fighting force to sit on a dusty mountainside, if I am frank." Willas said, looking to Jon, shaking his head, walking around the table.

"Another dragon would help, however. But it is a risk you'd pose, my King. They need more support, and the sooner the better. I understand the Gold Cloaks may want to be proven. Let a volunteer force go, but no significant numbers, it may not help immediately but it may help us keep our capital defended. I know it may not be an opinion that will be popular, but it may be a more sound approach, when we do not know the enemy we do not know." Lord Tyrell wisely mused, before looking at Daenerys.

"The Hedge Knights and free riders would be useful, my Queen. They would provide a good number of forces, but not enough in organization and skill. They need officers to lead them, to fight as units not glory-seeking men of fortune. But even rallying a call from a few minor Houses in those regions would be enough." 

Sansa said, "Willas may be right. You have the fleets protecting the Bay, but what if there's another attack. A larger one? We may need every sword we can get in that case." 

Asha shook her head, standing, "I say it's the right thing to do. Your men aren't the same gold cloaks of two decades past. You built them up you trained them. They're as professional as any other army now, more even, then some levy regiment. With you to lead them, that will be more than enough support." 

Jorah said, "I agree that we must leave some men to defend the city, in case of the worst. But I think no matter what army we put behind the King, they will be well served with him as a leader. If it's officers we need, I will go with the force." 

Daenerys had been silent up to now and looked at Jon for a moment before saying, "I understand why you feel you must go Jon. I know you only too well. But what am I to do while you go off campaigning? If what Gendry says is true, you and Jorah are headed into great peril." 

Jon replied to them all, "I appreciate all your concerns. But it must be done. I can take four thousand, the other two will remain here. With the royal fleets guarding the bay, there is no chance of an invasion. I will also call in fleets from the Vale to reinforce us until the other ships return home. As for monsters... I'll have Lady Lothson send one of her creations here in case. And I'll call on Duskendale, Stokeworth, Rosby, Hayford, and Bywater to camp their levies around the city while we're gone. The men from Massey's Hook should be enough reinforcement coupled with the cloaks. And I will go. We faced the Night King and one. With Aegon, there's no threat, no matter how great, that should be able to overcome us." 

He looked into Daenerys' eyes, "I leave the city in capable hands. With Daenyra and Jahaerys aiding you, there is nothing to fear. I have sat on my laurels long enough and let enough men die for us. The men need to know that we fight for them as well. That is my decison and the decison is final. The banners will be called and once the men are assembled, we will march. Inform Gendry when the moment comes." 

Willas nodded, knowing he'd done his best. He'd at least kept 2,000 men back, and part of himself knew that while it was the right thing to do, it would be something that came with risk. A smart one, one that he knew Lady Sansa understood. It was strange almost, to find an ally in her. Willas and Sansa got on well, he remembered how he used to be close with her when Margaery never talked. They never would have taken it further, but Willas was a good friend to her, and he imagined something simular of her, even through her own experiences of the world that had changed her profoundly. Despite that, Willas knew what Jon wanted was not his responsiblity to change. The choice was made. They would action it. 

"Understood, my King." Willas replied in response to Jon, as he rested his stance on one of the chairs, thinking for a moment.
"There are men from Tumbleton who could join them, if an attack did occur and an auxilary was required. You would have swords nearby. But it wouldn't be immediate. So there is that too." Willas mused, his thought almost internal rather than external about the provisions for defenses, as he looked up to Jon, a wry smile on his face.
"It's like the old days all over again. I haven't seen you ride into war for a while on Rhaegal's saddle for a long time." Willas seemed warming, not as clinical but a little more flexible to what Jon was thinking, willing to back him up almost.
"You will certainly stir the men, and that can only help." 

Jon nodded, "There are men from Harrenhal that could come as well. Worry not on the city Willas. They already tried it once and they know there's too much pressure on them to do it again. They are strong but they have nowhere near the same force projection as we do." 

"I hope that the sight of their King will put steel back in them and make them fight even harder. Cause we will need their morale. The campaign in the Islands is making good headway. Ser Daemon's reports are encouraging and my sons seem to be doing quite well. But we need this rebellion in the Mountains put down. Then we can commit on the Islands and turn back to the rebels in our borders." 

"We still have a long way to go my lords and ladies. That's it for now, I thank you all for your advice. Jorah, begin preparing the men. Willas, you can send word to our forces in the Mountains. Asha, I will need you to prepare the ships to ferry them. Sansa, you can begin preliminary questioning of the captive. The Queen and I must needs speak alone." 

Willas nodded, as the Council began to disperse, and knew he had his own task to set to. He would speak with Alester later, as well as Ser Owen. Two Reachmen who had proven very opposite in their capacity, as he headed towards the quarters of the Master of Coin, to set to work. Unlike Lord Baelish, Willas was not a scheming and conieving shit, he seemed to actually do administerative work. And whilst Alester had been taken to Sam for treatment for now, he had a few ravens to dispatch. Help was on the way it seemed, and whilst Willas did not sit comfortable with that fact, sometimes even he knew Jon had to be able to do stupid and ballsy things to prove why he was King of the Seven Kingdoms, and not the Night King.

-------

Alester nodded as he exerted an effort to stay on foot and bow himself out. A pang of pain ran through his shoulder, as he dug his fingers underneath the armor, staining red. "Shit." He muttered a curse as he advanced towards ser Jorah. "I might to have to impose in you, ser. I will need someone who can dress wounds in my quarters aswell." He gave a last glare at what they had to discuss as Willas cursed. "...tsk." He clicked. [i]Probably the monsters.[/i] He thought to himself.
 
Jorah nodded and said, "I'll have the Grand Maester himself attend you in your chambers, he will be here shortly." Jorah showed him to an expansive and elegant suite of rooms. A light lunch of fruit, bread, sweets, chicken, and wine was there, recently placed. Jorah nodded to him and walked out, saying, "A servant will come to inform you when dinner is ready. In the meantime, you have free reign of the grounds. Good day, my lord." 

The room had a clear view of the rest of the palace as well as the Blackwater Rush and the city. Drogon flew by, screeching before flying over the ocean. 

Alester said not much more, focusing on getting out his dented armor with labored grunts, scattering the pieces in a nearby seat, making some noises. A laborious effort, being lone and wounded, but a necessary one. After some time, he was down to his leather undergarments, the bandages on his shoulder stained a bit of crimson. His bare torso betrayed that despite his tall and lanky figure, he was still as chiseled as any other knight in the peak of their fitness. He grimaced as he eyed the worn cloth. He had maybe pushed it a bit too far this time, but time was of essence and monarchs did not wait much. He slumped with a grunt, and begun to pour some wine to drink.

His eyes shifted across the room, the ominous screeching dragon awakening some sort of paranoia in him. He then reminded himself. With the Master of Whispers the Queen had, he wasn't sure himself if he was being watched or not. He did not have much to hide, anyway, as he waited for the help to come.

Grand Maester Samwell, white of hair with his famous spectacles entered the room and smiled, "Ah Lord Florent, you seem to have taken some wounds. But worry not I am here to help." The rotund maester entered the room and began expertly and deftly changing Alester's bandages, "Nothing seriously life-threatening, my lord. But I would caution you to not strain yourself for quite some time. How much pain do you feel?" 

"Grand Maester, It is an honor to meet you, as ...disparate are the circumstances are." Alester did a small bow out of respect to the Maester. "I have heard of your exploits, grand maester. Both as wise man and as member of the Black." He paused. "Only the sting of the wound reopening. There is no tenderness nor anything that tells me that is festering." Alester replied honestly.

Sam smiled, "You do me much credit and I thank you. But truly all I did were read some words, write some words, and say some words all at the right times. It was Jon who saved the world. You may have read the book." He handed Alester a rag, "Now bite down, this may sting a tad." Sam began to clean the wound with boiled wine, disinfecting it as thoroughly and quickly as he could. 

"I'll be fi-" Alester begun to talk, until his vocal folds failed to respond and devolved into a choked whimper."-nnngh." He nevertheless regained the composture quickly, as he reined himself back in quite remarkable. "You...also killed a White Walker."

Sam smiled apologetically and handed Alester a cup of wine after he finished, "Indeed I did, and I am quite happy to say that every other encounter I had with a Walker went much better, with far better swords around me. I see you've been reading up on Sam the Slayer?" 

He started to knit Alester's wound closed with a sterilized needle while speaking, "You took a risk, taking on this mission. Almost paid dearly for it. If I may ask, what motivated you to accept? There are no shortage of valiant Reach knights who could have taken up the gage."

"I weighted against it heavily, but to be fair, I saw all the other options as far less palatable. I felt like... it was going to be pretty sour, no matter how well laid out the plan was. I felt like if I wanted to make a difference I would need to wrench victory with my very own hands and stake my strong points." He finished honestly. "Plus truth to be told, I am a rather questioned lord, after all... we were Stannis' host in the North."

Sam nodded in understanding as he started to apply a moist poultice to the wound, "You remind me of Jon in some ways, always needing to do things himself, to do them right and not risk others. And some may question your devotion, my lord, but I met Stannis. A hard man. But not a bad man. He tried to do the right thing and save Westeros, we will remember him for that. And you, you have proven your loyalty today." 

"I only seek to do good for my men and the Reach, Grand Master, to the utmost of my ability." Alester said. "I shall confide something onto you. Before his death, my father lamented that I was one of the most talented Florents in generations, yet all I inherited was a broken homestead. I have...thus...much to do left in this world before I can rest. I can always do better. Better administration, better skill at arms. Better knowledge. An almost insurmountable weight, which I have shouldered upon birth." Alester said. "I feel sometimes like that man, Stannis." He confessed.

Sam smiled at Alester, "I understand your feelings all too well, my lord. You are not alone. Quite a few other knights and lords have had to work to bring their houses back from ruin. Daenerys and Jon included. I've watched them rebuild with force of will." He began to wrap a silken bandage around the wound, "Stannis was much the same. Unlike Stannis however, I believe you could do better for yourself. Take solace in friendship and family. Realize that problems and burdens can be shared. That you need not fret away your youth and talent all to focus on a singular goal, to the detriment of everything else." 

"That is my advice Lord Alester. Take some enjoyment in life, and try to open your heart to other things besides your duty. Else you risk eroding away your soul, your life. Now, how does that feel? All better?" 

"Well if it didn't feel better you would be a floozy and not the Grand Maester." Alester smirked. "...I wonder if i could ask of you to be able to gaze at the Royal Libraries. Since I am in King's Landing and probably with this wound I cannot spar with the King's Guard, I wanted to at least one of the things to do in this city before my chance vanishes." Alester added.

Sam nodded enthusiastically, "Of course. As a guest of the king you are entirely within your rights to do so. King Jon has sponsored the building of a great library tower, you may attend there. If you desire any tomes from my own personal supply, you need only ask as well. For the moment, I recommend you not strain yourself and eat ample food as well as plenty of rest. You should be back to swinging swords within a week or two." 

"I appreciate the advice." Alester added. "Come to think of it I need to repair my armor aswell. That thing has a huge dent still." He added. "I mean not to impose, but do you know of blacksmiths in the city?" He added before taking a bit of food and more wine.

Sam stood and said, "The castle blacksmith is quite talented. If you want more ostentautious work done, there are several in the city I can direct you to on the street or steel. But the Red Keep's smith should be sufficient to see to your needs.  Is there anything else you desire, my lord?" 

"Peace." He said in a flat tone, before chortling in an amused grin. "But that won't come easy nor cheap. I do not mind not having ornaments as long as it is functional." Alester replied. "I am grateful for your help, Grand Maester."

Samwell bowed his head, "I do what I can, for it is my duty. I wish you a good day, my lord. I should see you at dinner." The Maester bowed once more and walked out, whistling a tune. 

---------

Willas found Alester in time, after being able to get his Tyrell guard to find a few of the Florent soldiers that Alester had been with in the capital. He owed the Lord a conversation, at the least he thought to himself. It was a formidable way to prove himself, and Willas let ability prove, as he had seen with Mirren before.

Knocking on the door, he waited for Alester, hoping this was the room at the least.

"Do come in." He said as he eyed the panorama that the window of his lodgings offered of King's landing. A soothing scenery worthy of a picture, with moving dragons included. It helped alleviate somewhat the need for peace of mind he sometimes desperatedly craven. "oh, sorry, my lord. I did not know it was you." He quickly got up as Willas entered.

Willas chuckled, still using his walking cane, a gentle thud against the stone floor as he shut the door behind him.
"Lord Alester, I remember when you were a mere boy. Crikey. It's good to see you again. I am sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man." Willas said, a characteristic smile on his face, as he looked out the window for a moment, leaning on his cane.
"So, Merlin told me about what you volunteered for. Sounds like you got a little more than you just bargained for. Sounds like we both did." He added wisely, knowing that Alester would probably get his angle, as he waited a response.

"I thank you for your kind wors, m'lord. He is much missed." He said, as he somberly nodded. "That is indeed true. However, I must say I got exactly what I thought I would get. Or rather, what I feared I would get." He added. "I had a strong hunch it would get much sourer. Because everyone was pretty optimistic about it." He stated dryly. "That brief moment when all goes to plan, and yet it falls apart. That was how it felt."

"Well, nothing ever goes to plan. I deal with that frequently." Willas mused, as he stood by Alester's side, looking out at the window then back at the Fox once more.
"But you took control of the situation and handled it well. Did what you had to do, and captured a man that concerns us both. No harm will come to him, but he can't stay in King's Landing forever. To get him, you risked your own self, for a cause greater than yourself. A truly noble thing to do. So, that brings that around to what I may do for you, Lord Alester."

"You didn't come to my service merely because you want to serve me as your Lord, and you as a liege under me, that is customary by just sitting in a castle and paying taxes where due, with your land and your legalities mostly your concern. Knighthood of course, is a path far greater than that. And you seem to be driven for something. I've lived long enough to get the weigh of a man. What is it you want, Alester?" Willas added, as he stood in front once more, a grin on his face.

"You're clearly capable as a politiican, or a fighter. Both are in need. So you have my ear."  

"A legacy." Alester said ponderously. "Of course, upstaging Tyrells like every Florent has always amused me a bit, but... I have to be realistic. You cannot harbor that kind of grudge. It poison's one's soul and that of your descendants. Look what the whole feud did to my grandfather. Sacrificed to a fire witch." He pondered. "Instead, I think I shall close the blood matter with blood, more elegantly. I seek marriage with a Tyrell, and the Florents shall not bother you for a long time, long perhaps to simply forsake the claim." He shrugged. "That way I can dedicate resources to make Brightwater keep stand for a long time as an splendid House of the Reach, and see to their people."

He eyed the Master of Coin in the end. "I have ambition, as you have guessed. But I am far from a rash fool." 

Willas nodded, thinking for a moment.
"I don't hold a grudge, for what my father or brother did. That's why I am thinking many things that perhaps are inconceviable to some in the Reach at this very moment. The wounds of the past, like yours, can't be left open forever. Someone's going to have to seal them, even if it hurts." Willas replied, as he rested for a moment.
"I am glad to hear of your thoughts. There are others who would pretend who also did well to abstain their claims. Peake, Tarly, Goldengrove, Hightower. And for your effort, I shall consider it done. My youngest, Alys, is a young girl, so a marriage immediately is out of the question. I understand that may be in your priority right now, but you would if I was to ask it of your youngest sister. When she is older, a couple of years, shall we say, you may be wed, for now, a betrothal should seal your content." Willas said, as he looked at him.

"My brother will not enjoy hearing that news. He gave the Keep back to House Florent on mine, and the Crown's orders because we considered it the right thing to do for a Great House. The right thing to do is never the most pleasant, even if it is just that. You have returned that favour to us, and with Owen Gardener and your record, I would imagine it would be a sensible thing for both of us to agree upon. It gives you what you look for, and a Tyrell in Brightwater Keep no less."

"Alys Tyrell. A lovely rose of your garden. I would rather have her than Alerie." He mused. Truth to be told he didn't want to be in the same room as Alerie. And for the time being, as Ellion or Garlan. "I shall treat her well, as she is a precious flower of peace. I pray that I last a couple of years, hurling myself in walls of spears does me little good." He concluded. "Also, m'lord, among my underlings and people of my confidence, i am called Les. You may use it if you wish so, It saves time."

"She'll be your sister in law, Alester. Oh, and she's mostly harmless. She has her ways. Even I don't understand her, and I'm her father, for pete's sake." Willas added, chuckling as he sighed a little, taking a seat once more.

"As you say, m'lord." Alester let a small bumbling of comformance. Fathers were usually blind to the nastier traits of offspring. However, given their settlement, it was bound to work out, as long as he stuck to formality and kept her at least ouitside of his hearing.  He paused. "You seem troubled, m'lord." He asked to Willas, although he probably knew the answer.

Willas chucked, shaking his head.
"When you're a cripple and you have to do the accountancy of Seven, if not now Nine Kingdoms with two wars on at the same time, you try not being troubled. That and my family is the one thing I'll care for more than any, Alester. One day, you'll have children. And realise just how difficult it is to let them find glory without getting themselves killed, let alone yourself." Willas mused ,as he took a large glass pourer, nodding to Alester to take a seat.
"You may as well stay and chat. Fancy some Arbor Gold?"

"A cup only, m'lord. I am sure the King and the Queen will offer a generous supper and I would rather not take leave of my senses while at it. Your offer is much appreciated." He said, as he sat where Willas indicated.

Willas nodded, pouring a cup as he poured one for himself, taking a sip. 
"A meeting I'll have to go to as well. We're Reachmen. This stuff practically runs in our veins. Unless you're from House Fossway. Bunch of cider-drinking loons." Willas chuckled, hoping thta Alester would at least loosen to it, not that he was serious about it. 
"So, how have you found the capital anyway? Must be a bit overwhelming, dealing with this amount of business so quickly in a new place." 

"Half Manderly actually, m'lord." He said while tasting the wine in a careful sip.  He thought about King's Landing. "I've been here before with my father, a long time ago. It seemed really overwhelming back then. Nowadays, It is still big, and it has dragons, but it is bearable. Plus it brings opportunities of finding more books than the ones at the Reach, business and politics." He paused. "If anything it is as if a huge bazaar of all trades opened before me, and I must be careful not to lose myself in wanting to do everything at once." He paused as he took another sip.

"It's easy to do it all when you're young. Try being an old bastard with a bad leg. I've seen much of it, experienced it." Willas replied, chuckling as he sipped a bit more of his own wine, looking out the window. His leg was a bit tempramental of late- a passing affliction, that came with probably putting too much pressure sometimes on it, just something that for at least two and a half decades had blighted him. And then it would pass, he imagined. Strange, that was the way it was. 
"There's lots to do. The capital is good, but don't let it swallow you whole." Willas added, as he sipped a little further.
"Other than that, I imagine you'll have a part to play in affairs in the Reach for a time to come, Lord Alester." 

"Colin seems to do fine as castellan." Alester deadpanned as he swirled his cup, eyeig the older Tyrell. "But I shall take your advice at heart. I still don't know how that man functions, even in good days, when he is not mouthing off Garlan Tyrell." He said as he eyed Willas. "I sincerely hope so, I believe there is much to be done." He paused.

Willas chuckled, as he sipped some more wine.
"He seems to function better than most people I've met." Willas added, as he finished the cup, taking his walking pole, and standing once more, clearing his throat.
"So, we may as well join the King and Queen for dinner then." The Tyrell Lord said, waiting on Alester to stand.

Alester finished his cup, and he let it thoughtfully, before raising from the table swiftly, and following after Willas. Supper was waiting. And monarchs as well. He missed the intimate meals at Brightwater, with only him, Colin and Irise, as well as a handful of servants who had enough trust to address him informally and offer him more food or crude tips on life.