[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mS5fhCu.jpg[/img][/center]

[right][sub][b][color=64ab4a]Lady Vittoria Tyrell and the Order of the Golden Rose[/color][/b][/sub]
[sub][b]Location: The Order's camp outside the walls of Oldtown [color=gray]//[/color] Port Market Street, Oldtown[/b][/sub][/right]

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“Two inns, the Last Cobblestone and the Lord Pennifer, separated by a chandler. The Chandler and his family have graciously accepted a stay at Highgarden, his eldest boy will stay behind to run his shop on the first floor. His name is Nate, seemed to want to be anything but a chandler when I talked to him, so he should be no thorn in our side. The family hasn’t been sick in the past year, which might be a miracle in Oldtown. Den will have his Lady Wife and young son, they will be at the chandler’s second story home.”

There was a chorus of immediate chatter that snapped Vittoria’s eyes shut in an instant, as she took a long, long, sip of her morning cider from the short cup. “Yes, yes,” she began, trying to calm the clatter. A normal council was five to six men. Today, there were over twenty. They had met at the baggage train. Her eyes opened again, and her smile pressed onto her lips like a dagger in her hand come a fight, “I understand nearly a quarter of us are bringing their wives and children in. Some of you will stay here at our camp outside the city walls, a few of you will be inside the city at various other inns, and a few at the Hightower. The Rose Garden has enough room for the rest.”

The Rose Garden was her favorite inn within Oldtown; it had a private courtyard, it was surrounded by old stone walls covered in thick vines that flowered in Spring and Fall. It had also been owned by House Tyrell for all of living memory. But it was too far from the main stretches of merchants and markets, and too far from the Hightower to be of ideal use. As an inn that almost only served highborn and wealthy merchants, it was ideal place to house the men of her Order with family that didn’t want to stay in the camp and didn’t have a better option. 

“WHERE EVER,” she shouted as she began again, to talk over the reemergence of chatter amongst themselves, only continuing when it died down again, “If you are not in the camp or at the Cobblestone or Lord Pennifer, report to the Pennifer by mid-day, each day. The Maesters and the Squires will be there to relay any information or orders.”

“And the Lost Alehouse?” Ser Brenden Cuy asked. He was his father’s third son, a squat, barrel of a man. His arms seemed as thick as his legs, and that was by far a compliment to both. Few seemed to take him serious in a fight, until the fight began. He talked little, usually, but when there was fun to be had he almost became a different name.

“Ah, the Alehouse,” Vittoria tried to keep the smirk off her lips, but failed, and a loud mix of holler and cheer went up among those assembled, even to the ring of men beyond them that were just trying to overhear. “The Lost Alehouse is in an alley behind the two inns. There is no sign, there are no windows on the first floor. If you’ve never been, just follow one of your brothers. Our last night in town, we will all try to meet there.”

“DO NOT BRING YOUR WIVES”, someone from the outer line of eavesdroppers shouted, loud, to the laughter of nearly all present…including herself. Her hands waved high in the air, and the deafening clatter of men speaking was back again, council over. She caught Den saying something to Ser Ryam; her cousin had been chosen to be her Shield in the city, Vittoria didn’t have to hear what was being said to know what Den was telling the young Knight. Her attention turned to Garrett and Mina, both of them ready, both of them staying at the Chandler’s house with Den and his Lady Wife, Merna of House Oakheart. 

When Garrett asked why they couldn’t all be in the same place, Vittoria explained that there wasn’t a suitable place in Oldtown’s walls that could house a hundred Knights, and members of family. She said nothing of the other reason: there was no way she would insult Lord Manfred by bringing a hundred armed and armored Knights into his city without his leave. He had allowed half of them, she considered it a gift. Both her siblings, to her, seemed sad that the journey was over and their time with the Order of the Golden Rose possibly over, though nothing had been absolutely decided. She knew, however, their father was on his way. The decision would be his. 

The ride into the city was more spectacle than she had wanted. None of them wore armor, except, at Lord Manfred’s request, herself. His written message to her had been plain and blunt, not unlike the man himself: [i]’Damn your caution and care, girl, this city won’t shut up about you, I am told, so I plan to give them the Ardent Maiden.'[/i]

Worse, the armor he had made for her was silver, covered in the flowers of the Reach, each enameled and bejeweled, a golden rose in the center of the breastplate, prominent and larger than the rest. Her great cloak was cloth-of-gold, shimmering and shadowing as the morning son touched it. She wore no weapon but the dagger of the Order, with it’s green handle and golden rose pommel. Her hair was brushed out; as much as Mina seemed to spurn the life of a Lady, her hands were incredibly efficient and practiced at some of the more useful aspects. Garrett and Mina would rise beside her, Den and Ser Ryam flanking them, with the rest of the fifty man column behind them. She forced Garrett and Mina to practice, a few times, the art of stopping their horses and letting the rest of their column envelop them in case of danger.

Den said nothing, but the idea was his: his Lady Wife reported that her sister had overheard Lord Oakheart saying he and Lord Rowan were less certain of the Order and their ‘Lady Commander.’ Then something about the Faith Militant being less than pleased about them, even as his own counselors stated Lady Vittoria had always been a true friend of the Faith. That kind of talk was dangerous. The streets were lined with smallfolk, the noise was near deafening, but she tried to appreciate it all the same. Perhaps more than normal, Vittoria kept her smile, her eyes and hands busy by looking and waving, engaging the crowd. 

Towards the end, they saw Poor Fellows and Warrior’s Sons, looking less than pleased, but not appearing hostile, either. The moment she saw the Septon, however, she was off her horse and forcing the column to stop, suddenly: “PATER!” Vittoria rushed to him, best she could in the horribly heavy armor, and knelt on one knee when she got to him. He was older than he was last time she saw him, gray sneaking into his beard and his hair. There were a few new wrinkles about his eyes, but he was still her Septon Pater. 

The moment she knelt to him, the gathered Faith Militant cheered, though she noticed Pater seemed less than joyous, yet his smile didn’t abandon him as he forced her to her feet. “Look what the Mother and Warrior have done with you! Where is the little girl that would argue the Seven-Pointed Star with me all day and night?”

She couldn’t help but hug him, before quickly, waving Garrett and Mina forth. “Septon Pater of the Most Devout, this is Lord Garrett of House Tyrell, soon to be Squire Garrett, and Lady Mina of House Tyrell.”

“Lord Garrett, Lady Mina, may the Seven bless you, your family, and keep you both safe. May I accompany you all?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling, even as Ren was at her ear from behind, whispering about the break of their column as men began to filter to their lodgings, that the Maesters were setting up at the Pennifer. When she turned around, she found Lady Merna behind her husband. Vittoria could have screamed at the woman in joy to see her; if she ever had an older sister, it would have been Lady Merna, Den’s wife. Ten years her senior, shy, but always kind and caring and giving. And, above all, always understanding. 

“Be careful!” The shorter woman all but squeaked, “I’m not wearing armor!” They laughed, though Vittoria was careful in the hug she gave.

“You look like you’re dying in that.” Lady Merna began to wave with one hand about Vittoria furiously, taking Vittoria’s hair up with other, to fan the beads of sweat falling down her neck. 

“It’s awful, I need to change clothes.” Vittoria made a groan, or a whine, or a pout, or some alchemist mixture of all three, and turned to find Mina telling Septon Pater all about the trip, and the training, and the sparring. Pater listened intently, his gentle warmth ever present as he knelt down to be eye-level with the girl. 

“Don’t worry, girl, we’ll have the horses ready and make sure she doesn’t run off, go change.”

That Merna knew what she wanted, what she was thinking…it was a blessing from the Gods to have her back around. The moment her parents parted, she saw him.

“VITTA!”

Vittoria threw herself at the largest boy she had ever seen. They said he was four years of age, and Vittoria could have called them liars. For as large as Savage Sam and Dennet Tarly were, Lord Rycherd Tarly, Dennet and Merna’s first born, was destined to be larger. The child nearly knocked her off her armored feet as he rushed into her like a bull. Had it not been for Den just behind her, she would have found herself on her butt, careful to wrap the child up and squeeze.

“You little wild thing! Have you met my sister Mina? You’ll like her,” she grinned, promising. Lady Merna shoo’d the boy off her, promising he could ambush her later, and Den helped her back to full balance. 

“C’mon, I’ll show you where we had your dresses put, and help you out of that armor. I like the cloak. It’s pretty.”

“Do you want it?” Vittoria asked Merna, as Den’s Lady wife led her into the Chandler’s Home.

Merna laughed. “It would be a blanket on me. You forget how tall you are.”

“I don’t feel tall.”

Merna was having none of it, “You’re surrounded by Knights all the time. Of course you don’t feel tall, fool girl.” 

Inside the door, Merna introduced her to Nate, the chandler’s eldest. Vittoria thanked he and his family as graciously as she could, covered in sweat and feet hurting from the sheer weight of the armor Manfred had sent her. She had helped his family, he explained, by ridding the seas of the Pirate King of the Basilisk Isles. She was cheery and warm as she gave her happy surprise, thanking he and his family again, before Merna cut in and asked him to lock the door behind them, and pushing at Vittoria to stop being so nice and MOVE. The short woman helped her out of the worst of it, though she asked Nate’s help for a few pieces, the buckles stubborn and plate heavy. 

She nearly laughed as Nate did so, sheepishly, closing his eyes as he did it. The two woman held their giggles until she was light enough to go up the backstairs, where Lady Merna could help her out of the rest. [/color]