*I really, REALLY, hope you like this chapter. I think this maybe among my favorite chapters so far.
299 AC
Ser Barristan Selmy
The efforts of Renly Baratheon to bring the Tyrells into the fold failed. He still remembered the shocked look on the youngest brother Baratheon. In a scroll that carried Ser Loras' hand, though not his voice, the Tyrells steadfastly refused to join the war in any capacity. When the news of the scroll reached His Grace, he fell into a black fury. He himself was surprised at such a revelation; he was aware of the…closeness of Renly and Ser Loras.
What really confused him was why they denied it…Ser Barristan could only come to two conclusions. Either the Tyrells were truly against His Grace…or they had their own problems that they told no one about.
However, at least with the response, they were able to get down to a proper war council. Since the arrival of the raven, the King moved his party to his own childhood home; Harvest Hall. The host of the eastern Stormlords marched with them while the Marcher Lords sent their men directly from their own demesnes.
And now, the council of war of the King, himself, and the Stormlords met in the chambers of Harvest Hall. His long distant cousin, Arstan, joined among the other lords.
"Your Grace, our host has amassed greatly. We have nearly twenty thousand troops with us, another ten thousand will be here by the end of the fortnight." Lord Beric Dondarrion reported. "Lord Bryce Caron awaits with his own host in Nightsong for your word."
"Good, and my lords, I already have a plan ready." The King reported.
Perhaps Robert was a bad husband, and a worse king…but by the gods, he was a warrior, few in the realm could meet his capacity for war.
"I'll take two-thirds of our current men with my brother-" He heavily patted Renly's shoulder. "-and we'll leave directly from here and march northwest. We'll first take Ashford, then Cider Hall. While we do this, Ser Barristan, you shall march with the last third, and meet up with the rest of our host rallying at Nightsong. From there, you'll command the host and march east for Starpike."
"Your Grace…I must protest. My duty is to remain by your side. I am the Lord Commander of your Kingsguard."
"Your duty is to do whatever the seven hells I tell you to do!" He shouted, but after a sigh he continued in a softer voice. "Worry not Ser Barristan, I shall have the two remaining brothers with me."
"Your Grace, at the very least, allow me to supervise the addition of one or two more Kingsguard before we depart…I do not know what I would do with myself should I fail."
He just waved him away. "Yes, yes. Very well. Bring me some names later."
"…my thanks Your Grace. If you truly wish for me to command this host, very well. Should you wish for us to take, or raise, Starpike?"
"Take it if you can. Give House Peake a day to surrender and join your host. No more, after that, they have forfeited the right to call Starpike their home. I'll write up a bill of attainder should it be required."
"Yes, Your Grace. And after Starpike?"
"After you complete this, march east once more, for Horn Hill. The same process as before. Give Randyll Tarly a day, no more."
"Very well, anything else?"
"Aye-" At this he moved to speak to the rest of the room, who up to now, were reserved to silent observers between the two. "-after I take Cider Hall, I'll await news from you. Once complete, march north and set a picket outside of Highgarden. Do not besiege it, but do not allow messengers or ravens to come and go. Once done, I'll march southwest and regroup with you. Leaving Renly there with a portion of men to cover our eastern flank."
Renly looked up surprised by that. "Me? Your Grace, I have never-"
"Bah! You'll need to learn at some point. You'll have the command, regardless."
"…yes, Your Grace."
"Good. Any questions?"
"Your Grace, we are confronting many houses while they reside in their own keeps and castles. But should a host march against us in the field…what is your directive? Engage them, or simply avoid them? This is a diplomatic campaign just as much as it is a military one."
"Damn them. If any man chooses to march against the host led by the Lord Commander of my guard, that is tantamount to treason. Deal with them as you would a traitor to the realm."
"Understood, Your Grace."
"Anything else? No? Good, Renly, come!" The King turned from the chambers and left, with Renly, and himself in pursuit after him.
His original goal for the Kingsguard was halted due to the King's offensives into the Reach. There was no time to have a knight from the North or the Crownlands join them. For now at least, he could find two additional knights.
He already had one volunteer, thankfully from the Stormlands. It'll make it easier for the King to like them. Ser Guyard of House Morrigen was the younger brother of the Lord of Crow's Nest, Lester Morrigen. He had first noticed the man as the King was making rounds around the castle of Harvest Hall, he was singing atop one of the walls. A short conversation between him and the King sprung up. The man was charming, but not arrogant. He had already sparred against the man, and though he lost, he was skilled, nonetheless.
This left one more spot. There were two spots actually, but he wished for one to be filled later. For now, word had gone out to the castle and the camp. That was a day ago, today, he would find himself in the large, temporary tiltyard set up just outside the walls for the men. Any who wished to test their mettle were to meet here. King Robert was not in attendance. When asked, he just waved Ser Barristan away. 'They're your brothers, you choose.' He had said. Very well if that's the way it is.
Regardless, that wasn't for another hour. For now, he found himself bent over the table in the council chambers, viewing the map of the Reach and the Stormlands.
He wasn't particularly worried about Starpike or House Peake, it was his other objective that worried him. Though his own martial skill was among the best in the realm, Lord Randyll Tarly was one of the most brilliant battlefield tacticians. If Lord Tarly refused to bend the knee, than they had quite the fate awaiting them.
His only hope was to stop any ravens from leaving Starpike. If he could do that, then the rest of the Reach would still be blind to the movement of his and the King's host. He could not allow Lord Tarly time to ready his forces or fortify his castle. If he was to confront the man, he damn well better confront him on his own terms.
He had never seen the castle of Horn Hill, but he had heard that the walls were of meddling strength. Not overly strong, but not weak by any means. This…this is why he could not allow it's lord to prepare better defenses. Better to catch them by surprise and hope his word is enough.
But his greatest concern, the one he had yet to voice, were his orders after Horn Hill. He was to set a picket around Highgarden and await the King. Well…that was just inviting an ambush. He would be totally defenseless in the plain outside the castle. He could only hope that no force would dare attack the King's host.
In truth, he had hoped that they would await reinforcements from the Crownlands and perhaps the Vale. Unfortunately the Vale's forces were reportedly marching directly to join Robb Stark's host in the Riverlands. They'd receive no assistance from the Vale. That left his hope for the Crownlands and Dorne. He was not as intelligent as maesters perhaps, but even he knew they'd receive no assistance from them either. Finally, the last word from Lord Stannis in the capital reported that Lord Stark had called the banners of the Crownlands to reinforce the city, after much of the corrupt City Watch fled or were executed.
Perhaps they could receive reinforcements from Robb Stark's host…but that was a hope…a wish. And he learned a long time ago that if a man fought for naught but a wish, he was a man destined to fall.
No…despite his frustration, this was a fight that they would need to deal with themselves. Already, he had sent a raven to Lord Caron to prepare mobile siege weapons. Either those on wheels, or those that could be easily dismantled and reconstructed in another place.
Finally, he broke from his daydream to realize that he had taken too long in the chambers. Damn, should've been in the yard some time ago.
Leaving his childhood keep, he strode out of the gate and came face to face with an awaiting crowd, all waiting to see the spar between Ser Barristan Selmy and any brave enough to test their own mettle.
There were three figures awaiting him, with dozens, if not a hundred crowded around watching the spectacle. One of the figure's surcoat blazoned a black lion, upon an or field. Someone of House Grandison. It had been some time, but he still remembered his lessons from when he was still the heir to his own house.
The second figure bore a coat of moths, no doubt a member of House Horpe. The last figure was already in full plate, head to toe, their face covered. He took to the center of the yard.
"Men! Because of treason, His Grace has found himself in need of new protectors! He has given me leave to evaluate possible replacements, 'fore we march soon!" He turned to speak directly to the three people. "I shall spar each one of you. If you do not meet my expectations, you will not be considered, is that understood?"
After a small chorus of nods and affirmatives, he nodded once himself. "Good." He once again addressed the entire yard. "Let's begin. No! No need septon, this is but a friendly show of strength, we shall have need of you in the days to come." He respectfully declined a septon who had traveled with the host.
"You." Ser Barristan pointed to the first person. "Step forth. What is your name?"
"Ser Barristan, I am Ser Narbert of the House Grandison!"
"Ser Narbert, if I may, how are you related to Lord Hugh?"
"I am his nephew, good ser."
"Well, you must give my regards the next time you see him."
"Ha, we'll see. Perhaps after this you can go yourself. I'm sure I will excuse you after I take your post."
Ser Barristan raised his brow at that. He had faced many arrogant knights before. Though if the slight mirth 'round his eyes was to be believed, mayhap he was only jesting.
"Arm yourself ser. Begin!" Ser Narbert put his helmet on then pulled his blade out of his scabbard.
And now it begins.
The young knight advanced on him much too quickly, that was clear. Too clear. Already, he decided that Ser Narbert would not be honored. After a few swings, he disarmed the knight and sent him tumbling to the ground. He was skilled, yes, but the Kingsguard demanded a higher level, and he would settle for nothing less.
Truthfully, he was not expecting any of the three to defeat him, but even winning against someone can shed light on their skill…and perhaps more importantly, their character.
The man picked himself off the ground, and instead of a sneer that he expected from so many arrogant warriors, Ser Narbert merely smiled and held out his hand.
"A good bout ser! Until next time."
Ser Barristan grabbed it and shook it. "Aye, practice some more good ser. You have promise." He smiled kindly.
Turning his attention to the next person. "Next!"
The second person stepped forward and without his prompt, announced himself.
"I am Ser Richard, of House Horpe!"
"Well Ser Richard, come, let us taste battle."
Unlike the last spar, this one was faster. Ser Richard was much faster than the previous Ser Narbert. He was also more skilled.
"You know-" He heard Ser Richard speak 'neath his helmet. "-I've always wanted to be a Kingsguard." His voice was heavy with exertion. "But that whore of a lion ended my hopes before they began!" With newfound strength from his conviction, Ser Richard pressed forth with renewed vigor.
The gathered soldiers all watched in awe as their two blades swung in a lightening dance, so swift 'twas impossible to see whose blade was whose.
However, Ser Barristan did not survive this long without being a skilled warrior. And after a particular trick, he disarmed Ser Richard with ease.
The knight wretched his helmet off with anger and kicked at the sand 'neath him.
Truthfully, Ser Barristan seriously considered him, but it was not his skill with a blade that was left wanting, it was his character. As just so visibly proven to him; Ser Richard Horpe was susceptible to great fits of anger. Such a loss of control was unbecoming of a Kingsguard.
As Ser Richard pouted away from the yard, there left a single figure left. The one in full plate. It was shining, but not unique in any way. Instead of presenting themselves, the armored figure simply grasped their longsword in a strong grip and took stance.
Ser Barristan did not move, simply observing the figure. Finally, he took his own stance. Mildly surprised, the figure did not charge him. Instead, it circled him, awaiting for an opening…one that he would not provide.
Ser Barristan, adept at both attacking and defending took the initiative and moved to strike. Making a mock swing at the warrior's neck, he moved to thrust into the figure's torso, however, much to his hidden delight, the figure spotted his maneuver and was able to block the strike before going on the offensive themselves.
Ha, now this is more like it. Other than the King, it had been some time, over a decade since he had met a true opponent in the sparring yard.
Again, again, and once more, did the two metal-plated warriors spin in a dance of combat. So fluid were their movements, that the onlookers watched with barely muted astonishment. The previous spar with Ser Richard was fast. But this one…
This was nothing short of art. One step forth, one step back, and continue.
His foe was measured, strong, fast, but in control. However, their glory was not to be. Having long given up on simple tricks and mock swings, putting his significant experience into play, Ser Barristan was able to disarm his final opponent. It wasn't pretty like the last two, but he disarmed them, nonetheless.
The figure stood motionless.
"Brave knight, you stood strong, and courageously! It has been some time since I've seen a warrior of your caliber!"
Again, silence. The rest of the yard shared in the figure's mood. All anxiously awaiting the revelation of the identity.
"My good ser, would you remove your helm, so that I can place a face to your skill?"
The figure stood mutedly, and it wasn't until he almost ran out of patience did the person respond.
"I am not knight, Ser Barristan Selmy."
His eyes went wide. "Truly? Well, remove your helm and I'll knight you myself." And turning to the crowd, announced. "And bring your name to His Grace, for truly a warrior like yourself must be honored as such.
"I'm afraid…that it will be more difficult than that."
Before he could ask what it meant, the figure slowly reached up to take off it's helmet. Then the entire yard gasped.
Beneath the helm, he stood face to face with a woman. A woman!
"I am Lady Brienne, of the House Tarth."
And while the crowd hollered and yelled in protest, he stood in shock.
Ser Barristan found himself walking down one of the hallways in Harvest Hall, one hand swinging, the other rested upon the hilt of his sword. Behind him walked the Lady Brienne Tarth, and behind her, two Baratheon footmen.
After Lady Brienne's shocking display of martial prowess, Ser Barristan knew he had to take her to see the King. Those soldiers and knights attending the melee had booed and shamed her, but Ser Barristan didn't care. He had never felt so alive in the past decade. She was surely a great warrior.
It almost reminded him of the women of the North. Just the past year on the King's progress to Winterfell, he had remembered the cold warrior women. Though, perhaps Lady Brienne was a tad more refined in etiquette.
Having been in the presence of Dornish ladies and fought on the opposite sides of a battle with northern women, he had long ago shed his once youthful, arrogant, opinion of women.
And he knew his King was the same. Robert Baratheon started a gods damned rebellion just because his betrothed was taken from him, a woman widely known for being wild. It wasn't until much later had the King drunkenly confessed to him that the infamous Knight of the Laughing Tree was none other than the only daughter of Rickard Stark.
No, what his main concern about Lady Brienne was actually something much less socially important, but relevant, nonetheless.
Lady Brienne is the only surviving heir of Lord Selwyn Tarth.
But that is what hopefully can be addressed.
Nodding to his sworn brother, Ser Arys, he knocked on a door to hear a faint 'come!' from the other side.
Opening the door, he walked into His Grace leaning over a table with Renly Baratheon on one side and Maester Quinn on the other. The two footmen had waited outside the chamber.
"Your Grace, might I trouble you for a moment?"
The king looked up and nodded after a sigh. "Renly, maester, you may leave."
"Actually Your Grace, perhaps the maester should remain for this."
Lord Renly looked for a moment before nodding away.
"What is it Selmy?"
"Your Grace…may I introduce you to Lady Brienne of House Tarth…and the second person I would pick for your Kingsguard."
Robert's eyes widened at that before he came around the table. Staying quiet, the king simply walked around the tall woman, examining her.
"Aye, she's got some muscle."
He could tell that Lady Brienne was surprised at the King's confession, perhaps used to the mean postulating from most men. But Robert Baratheon was a strange man; viewing many women as naught but broodmares to lay with, and yet, he was also capable of extremely radical thought as well. Perhaps he judged the gentler sex based not on what was betwixt their legs, but the strength of their spirit. He was an interesting man to say the least.
"What's the issue?" He barked out.
"You Grace…"
Lady Brienne kneeled. "Your Grace, I am but your humble servant, and would protect your life, with mine." She proudly declared.
"Get up ya mad lass!" The King commented.
"Selmy! What's the issue?"
Maester Quinn stepped forth. "Your Grace, I think mayhap I can address the issue. Lady Brienne here is the only heir to Lord Selwyn Tarth. If she was to take the oaths, then Lord Tarth would have no direct heirs."
King Robert frowned. "And there's no one else?"
"Well…I did not say that Your Grace."
"Well get on with it!"
"Of course Your Grace, apologies. Lord Selwyn did have two sisters, both much older, from his father's first marriage. Ladies Floris and Ellyn, respectively. Lady Floris married Lord Wylde and sired Casper Wylde, the current Lord of Rain House. Lady Ellyn married Ser Lomas Estermont, and they sired Ser Andrew Estermont and Ser Cedric Estermont."
"So?"
"With no direct male heirs left, with the death of Lord Selwyn, the lordship would pass to his eldest sister, half-sister technically. However, Lady Floris passed away some years ago."
"What's the problem?"
"Well Your Grace…normally it wouldn't be a problem with the next person in line being open to it…unfortunately Lady Floris only sired one child…Lord Casper Wylde…"
Finally the King put it together. "…And then, if we follow tradition, you'd have a single man be the lord of two separate Houses."
"Exactly. In truth, this could be handled by simply naming Ser Cedric as a Tarth through his mother, Lady Ellyn, and declare him to be Lord Tarth's heir."
"Aye…I could do that."
"Yes, the only possible issue is if Lord Wylde protests and wishes to appeal directly for your audience."
"Ah bugger the man. Fine! Fine, maester, ready the papers, I'll sign and stamp them, naming the son of Lady Ellyn Estermont to be Ser Cedric Tarth."
"Very well Your Grace, I shall see to it at once." The maester responded before shuffling out of the chambers.
His Grace smirked at the ever-silent Lady Brienne. "Lady Brienne, now you may kneel." He said amusingly.
Lady Brienne seemed to try not to blush from mild embarrassment while going down on one knee.
"Ser Barristan, do you stand as witness?"
He proudly unsheathed his blade and stood by ceremoniously. "I, Ser Barristan Selmy, stand witness to Lady Brienne of Tarth."
Lady Brienne struggled to keep the tears from her eyes.
Robert took his offered blade and rested it upon Lady Brienne's shoulder. "Lady Brienne, do you swear to ward the King with all your strength?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to obey all commands from the King, whatever they may be?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to keep the King's secrets?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to keep the King's counsel, and to remain silent otherwise?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to take no lands, titles, or birth any children?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to defend the King's honor and name, and to serve the King with total fullness of body and mind?"
"I swear it."
"Then it is my pleasure that I, Robert of the House Baratheon, First of my Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, hereby name you, Brienne Tarth, to my Kingsguard. Arise as a sworn sister of the White Order!"
Brienne, no longer a Lady of House Tarth, stood with her eyes shimmering.
The King just waved them away. "Share the news with your new brothers, and send word to your father, and send word to the capital, I'm afraid you'll have to wait to receive your gilded armor." He commented humorously.
He slapped the shoulder of Brienne. "Welcome to the Kingsguard…sister." He offered his forearm to the lass.
And with barely contained emotion, she took it, and to Brienne Tarth, all was well in the world.
She finally reached a place where she could do some good. Where no man would dare call her ugly, or unfit. From this point on, She protected, and spoke on behave of, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
'Yes' She had thought. 'Everything was quite well.'
*So there you go! I really tried to give justice to Brienne. She was always among my favorite characters. Everything I did was trying to lift her up in this. As such, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. That being said, I do understand how some people can be...prickly about their favorite characters. As such, if you feel I brought any injustice against her, please let me know how to make it better (respectfully) and I will be glad to try and evolve her that way. I really like this chapter :).
**Bobby B is a character that I think is sometimes over looked. I could never like him as like a person? But I really do think there is a lot more to him than 'Me Mad, Me lost woman, me kill.' Like he has the potential to be something else. I think if he had enough time in the books and the show...I would really enjoy his character evolution that we saw with Jaime Lannister.
