A/N: Thankfully, because I'm on Winter Break, I have a bit of time to post all of these chapters. Willas's injury is interesting in the sense that it gives a lot of room for adjustment, yet is still debilitating in its own way. Now, we watch the masters play the game. let me know what you think!
INTERLUDE: Olenna, Mace, & Alerie
On any given day, the Lord of Highgarden would work merrily in his solar, and his father's solar, and his grandfather's solar before that, but today was not that day. Tragedy had struck the Tyrell family today, and Mace Tyrell was not merry on this very day. He worked quietly, anything to get his mind off of what was going on inside of the infirmary. A family meeting was to occur today, and he needed some time dealing with his work before feeling ready to participate. Mace lost himself in that work for a few hours, so mired in his grief was he that a smile did not even appear on his face.
After a while, the doors opened, and Mace stiffened, before visibly relaxing, as his beautiful wife approached him, her eyes still red-rimmed and her hair in a bit of a mess. She approached his chair, and he proceeded to stand up, and they embraced, his head on her shoulder, and her head, by his beating heart.
"Oh Alerie, our poor boy," Mace lamented softly. "Entering our boy in that tourney...why did I think it was a good idea?"
Mace felt the embrace strengthen, and just held his wife in that moment, as they faced the oncoming storm together. After a long moment, Mace paused. "How are they?" he asked, his voice trembling a little.
Alerie sighed, and parts of Mace's shirts suddenly dampened with Alerie's tears.
"I didn't want to leave," she started, in a very fragile voice. "Willas has been soothed by the Milk of the Poppy, and is asleep for now, but all of the children are distraught. Garlan and Loras have not left his bedside once, and Margaery woke up and proceeded to climb in bed next to Willas. She has not stopped sobbing since she had awoken."
Mace shuddered. Margaery had certainly taken it the worst; she had shrieked so loudly that everyone in the stands had heard, and proceeded to pass out in Loras's arm in sheer panic. His calm and collected little Queen reacting like that...well, he didn't like thinking about the implications.
Mace almost didn't want to ask his next question.
"And….and the Maester?" Mace asked, weakly. "What did Lomys say, about his prognosis?"
Alerie's sobs suddenly increased to an almost-wail, as she proceeded to cry uncontrollably in her husband's arms. Mace repositioned his wife to a more comfortable position as she proceeded to cry, tears silently falling down his face, and he knew that what would be said next would be bad.
The doors opened once more before closing, and his mother entered, but Olenna Tyrell said not one word, carefully checking for spies, before moving to a comfortable seat, not wanting to break this moment.
"He-"
"He said...," Alerie started tremulously. "...that the joust broke something in Willas's wrists..." She paused, taking a calming breath. "..something deeply within his arm. Every movement our poor..."
Alerie hiccupped, stuttering out her next words in grief.
"..our poor boy makes, his arms shake." Alerie finished. "Willas...will never be able to hold a sword again."
The tears the Tyrell couple renewed once more, as they both sobbed in grief for what was, what could have been, and their pain. Even a few tears silently fell out of the Queen of Thorns's eyes, her love for Willas so great. The family sat quietly together, reflecting on this disastrous turn of events, releasing their grief amongst one another, until they eventually calmed down.
A pause.
"Daughter," Olenna stated, quietly, perking up Alerie. "Can our boy still write?"
Alerie looked quietly at her.
"I was told that he would be able to write, but not steadily, and his wrist would be bound by a bracelet for the rest of his days, to steady his wrist," she responded.
The Queen of Thorns sighed.
"Now, Mace, I shouldn't have to tell you that you've made a mess of it.", she stated regretfully, yet almost gently, "..but our boy still has hope."
Mace looked at his mother. She looked at him with the same gentle expression that she used when her son confessed his love for Alerie in a failed betrothal, the same expression of regret, and yet, care, towards her only son.
"Willas can still read, can still think, can still function," Olenna rattled off. "How many lords can we say do the same as well as our Willas?"
Mace laughed a bit, at his mother's prickly nature, not once turned onto him.
"Not only that," Olenna continued, "As Lord of Highgarden, he need not go on the battlefield! Garlan can do that for him, but our boy is relatively the same. He shakes, and he may feel pain for the rest of his days, but his faculties are still intact, are they not?"
Alerie's eyes brightened once more, the spark returning into her hollow eyes.
"That's right, mother!" Alerie replied excitedly, "Willas can have someone else write and help him with everything!"
"Don't call me mother, dear, I would have known if I had birthed you." The Queen of Thorns snapped, causing Mace and Alerie both to burst out into hearty laughter, as normalcy reestablished itself in the solar.
"Who would be the best to help Willas? The Maester?" Mace questioned out loud.
"Gods, boy, the Maester?" Olenna asked. "No, Willas needs a page; a particularly studious page who would be able to help Willas with his more academic pursuits."
Alerie nodded, digesting the information.
"Do you have any in mind? I'm sure I could ask some of my Hightower cousins…" Alerie started, only to be given a glare by the Queen of Thorns.
"I think not." Olenna responded. "This must be an honor we are rewarding to one of our bannerman, to improve stability, not some frivolous exercise in nepotism. Fortunately I have the perfect page in mind."
"Do tell, mother, I haven't the faintest idea of who to appoint." Mace mumbled, confused. The Queen of Thorns had found a solution this fast?
"Samwell Tarly, the heir to Horn Hill and son of Randyll Tarly," she began, with Mace and Alerie nodding in recognition. "Paxter and Mina had originally planned to foster him, but I talked to Tarly to make that switch. It will be a reward for Tarly's leal service, and the boy has a very studious nature."
Mace nodded thoughtfully. "With Samwell and Talla both in service of Highgarden, Tarly will be hard-pressed to deny us anything, then." He concluded.
"What of the Martells?" Alerie asked, hesitantly. "Surely there must be some recompense."
Mace nodded, and began to explain. "It was clear that Willa's injury was an accident, yet a dangerous one for Dorne and for the Reach. I sent a raven to Doran Martell with plans for recompense. The one most strongly agreed upon in this moment was a betrothal between our boy and Arianne Martell."
"That snake?" Olenna asked, incredulously. "Surely we have better options than her as a Lady of Highgarden."
Mace looked at his wife and his mother guiltily.
"No, mother, I mean for Willas to become Prince Consort to Arianne, and for Garlan to take up Highgarden in his place." Mace confessed, in a small voice.
Alerie paled, as Olenna began to fume at the thought. She looked anywhere but her husband and her good-mother, aware that a fight was imminent.
"Mace! Are you so foolish as to hand away your eldest son's birthright because of an injury?" Olenna barked, angrily.
"Mother, I-" Mace babbled, but his mother shouted him down.
"Mace, this is as foolish as your idea to put Margaery on the throne!"
"But mother, I-"
"Have you even once begun to consider the implications of this? Willas may not even survive his wedding night, thrown to the Vipers, for what of the enmity between our house and theirs? Does that resolve itself before then?" the Queen of Thorns spoke venomously. "By the Seven, Garlan has not had any lessons on heirship, and your boy will see it for the insult it is! Your lords will begin to talk about the fat, ambitious flower, and resentment will build. Before we know it, we'll have an army of our own bannermen storming Highgarden-"
"Mother." Mace interrupted calmly. It appeared as though his mother's rant had only served to strengthen his resolve, and in a rare moment, Mace Tyrell drew himself up with the confidence befitting the Lord Paramount of Highgarden.
"You dare to interrupt your own mother, boy?" the Queen of Thorns asked, dangerously.
"I am Lord of Highgarden, am I not?" Mace answered, placidly. "Our house words are 'Growing Strong' as well, are they not?"
Olenna narrowed her eyes, as Alerie watched the standoff, terrified.
"Mother, it is not a particularly bad idea. Dorne and the Reach stood on the same side against the Usurper, and as of late, House Martell seeks to makes amends with House Tyrell. If we are to grow strong, we must strengthen our roots." Mace declared firmly.
Olenna stared at her son in shock, as she processed the sudden change overtaking him. Eventually, she nodded almost-imperceptibly, and relented.
"You do not have the wrong of it, my son," Olenna answered, with a hint of pride in her voice. "It is a very ambitious move, and we will have to take certain precautions to protect Willas, but it is a smart move to make if executed correctly. Now, have you considered the implications of what that means for Garlan, Loras, and Margaery?"
"Loras will need a betrothal immediately. Mina's children will have to follow suit, to shore up our support, and Garlan's betrothal will thus be a bargaining chip if discontent is likely." Mace recited.
Olenna nodded.
"Lord Rowan has three daughters, I believe, and with two Tarly children here, a betrothal need not be made right away, though Garlan or Loras may be a good match for Talla Tarly. House Florent will not budge, and our cadet branch will also need to be utilized as well." Mace noted.
"Good, send the Ravens then." the Queen of Thorns noted. "Now, is there anything else we need to talk about?"
Alerie paused, remembering the conversation a few days before the tourney that she had with her daughter. If House Tyrell was discussing politics, there was no better time for her to introduce the idea itself.
"Husband, Mother.." Alerie began, hesitantly. "Margaery has told me that she does not want to become Queen, or stay South. Instead she would like to begin exchanging letters with a Northern noble."
"That girl," Olenna grumbled, displeased. "She always seems like she has her own plans in place."
Mace was astonished.
"But...I thought she had always wanted to become Queen?" Mace uttered, bewildered. "Our Margaery would be the best match for Robert Baratheon's son, and particularly the Reach. Why wouldn't she want to become Queen? She was born to be Queen!"
Olenna looked pointedly at her son and good-daughter, affixing them with her glare.
"Mace, you must know that I have never liked the plan of betrothing Margaery to a Baratheon," Olenna remarked, resolutely. "King Robert has just claimed his throne, after all, and time will tell how likely this dynasty is to stay. Even if we were to ask, it is not like that Robert Baratheon would accept, anyways - the fool will tie his Joffrey to one of Ned Stark's daughters to keep his alliance and reward House Stark."
"But Baratheon needs the Reach!" Mace spluttered furiously, throwing his hands up in the air. "He would be a fool to deny Highgarden!"
"Robert Baratheon has the Reach well in hand, Mace, or did you forget House Florent?" Olenna retorted heatedly, causing Mace to pale at the reminder. "Those upjumped foxes want their grandson ruling Highgarden, and one misstep could leave us out of home and their get ruling over the Reach. Stannis Baratheon hates us enough as is, he is itching for an excuse to put our heads on a spike after what you did to him, Mace. No, I will not subject my grandchildren or great-grandchildren to that."
Mace sighed at that, knowing he had been beaten.
"But what of Margaery? She deserves more than a marriage to a bannerman; she should be a Lady Paramount, at least." Mace argued.
"What of House Stark?" Alerie suggested. "Eddard Stark's children are closely tied enough to House Baratheon that Margaery could bargain for a match with either her, or Garlan's children in the future, with the children of Baratheon. Margaery also enjoys learning about the North."
Olenna looked thoughtful.
"I suspect that it is the plan our rose has in place," Olenna theorized. "With Margaery's influence over Robb Stark, she would have influence over his sister and her husband, and with her ties of Willas and Garlan, our plans would not be ignored. House Stark also has strong legitimacy, and I do not believe we have married once into that family. The Queen of Thorns's brow furrowed as she considered this path of action further.
"Clever, yet still missing quite a few components, but that is to be expected of our growing rose." Olenna concluded.
"Margaery could marry into House Lannister as well", Mace pointed out, quickly. "The Westerlands would be a firm shot at influencing the king, and her husband could be Hand."
Olenna glared at her son. "You'd be handing the executioner's block directly to Tywin Lannister at that point. Seven knows he wants his get to rule over all Seven Kingdoms, and it wouldn't be long until an accident befell your sons."
Olenna stood up and paced around, her cane making a CLICK-CLACK noise, before she paused.
"It is not a bad idea," she pronounced. "House Stark is among the most honorable of the Great Houses, and Margaery's husband would almost certainly side with House Tyrell in any conflict, with the powers of Lord of Winterfell. They have a fair few resources that we may need, and it would strengthen our roots and branches enough for a crowning power play in the next few generations."
Mace reflected quietly, clearly deciding whether he should give up his dream of making Margaery queen, but after a while, he acquiesced.
"What must be done?" Mace asked.
"Send a letter to Ned Stark asking for a correspondence with Robb Stark," Alerie answered. "Catelyn Tully would love a Southern match for her children, but Margaery will have to charm Robb Stark in order for Ned Stark to request a betrothal. That is the best of the moves we could make as of now."
By the end of the night, two black ravens flew with letters in their talons, headed in opposite directions towards their destinations.
