Garlan the Gallant

The family died together, at least. Garlan thought.

They hung from a tree the victims of Lord Tywin and his mad dogs. Two of them could be no older than children of eight name days. "Cut them down," He ordered. "Carefully." It was a small kindness he could bestow. Throughout the march from the Mander, he had seen the work of these monsters. Knights were supposed to protect the weak and innocent. They shame themselves. They had attacked the holdfasts and villages like a pack of wolves. His people suffered dearly while they dallied under the walls of Highgarden and he wished to weep for them. Garlan saw it impacted his men. When we breach the Westerlands. They'll wish to do the same. It'll be a struggle to maintain discipline and he wasn't sure he even wished it. But the weak existed even in the Westerlands, and he wouldn't punish them. I swore a vow.

Still, he rode on.

It was all he could do.

Goldengrove needed to be retaken. Once it had been seized, the road lay open to bring the fight to House Lannister.

The Battle of the Mander had been a great success. They collapsed the right and left flanks of the Lannister host and enveloped them. Reach lances tore them apart. A host some twenty thousand strong and killed them like pigs to the slaughter. The rest of the host scattered up the Oceanroad. It almost felt like justice. There is little justice on the battlefield, only survival. They took a few knights and lords captive and sent them back to Highgarden. Though they were only lesser knights and minor lords. Lord Lyle died valiantly at his own hand. It had been a close thing, but a single mistake was all he needed. After he fell, what remained of their host broke. "Garlan the Gallant!" His men screamed. "Knight of the Reach!" The sound of steel kissing faded from his mind. I'll dream of the dead. I'll dream of dead children as well. They'll curse me. "What took you so long? Why didn't you save me, ser?" The answer he could give them was bitter.

Politics. You died for politics.

He would rather dream of his wife. How could such kindness exist in the same world as this brutality? It was a question Willas would have appreciated. He enjoyed such philosophical riddles. Garlan didn't much care for them. Though he enjoyed the histories. Willas made sure of that. A ghost of a smile crossed his face at being bullied into reading. Then he thought of his sister Margaery, now a married woman. Was she content in Storms End? Renly would not be besotted with her. Maybe they would find happiness in companionship? Garlan prayed she would. It's all he ever wanted for any of his siblings. Myself and Leonette will have to visit her once they won the war. He would surprise her. Mayhaps grandmother could come as well? All of them needed to be around one another. Loras dead. Margaery maimed and father…Garlan winced at the memory and the look of betrayal in his eyes. He'll get better and our family shall grow strong.

They were trying for a child. Him and Leonette. If they had a boy, Garlan would name him Loras. No finer name existed. We need more roses now. It was better to think of happy dreams, to drive the despair and sorrow away. When they set up for camp, his young, eager squire accosted him. "Ser, I have finished polishing your armor and grooming your horse!" Dickon Tarly was frightenedly efficient and attentive, but he expected that from the son of Lord Tarly. Though he seemed tense and a bit too eager to please. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"Tell me of your home. Horn Hill isn't? I'd like to hear of it and your family." Garlan bade him to relax.

"Oh." Dickon said. "Well, I have four sister and an older brother. Talla is an excellent singer, Elyne enjoys boring books, and Falia is skilled at the harp." He paused awkwardly.

"And your brother?"

"My elder brother Sam joined the Nights Watch." Dickon said with pride. "It's a high honor."

It struck Garlan strange. I don't recall Samwell being much a warrior. But mayhaps things changed? When he was a boy, he had been pudgy, and he grew out of it through hard work and dedication. "It is, but I think you shall earn honor of your own." With that, he rose. "Come, lad, let me see your sword work."

"Yes, ser!" Dickon shot off

Garlan immersed himself in the dance as he went through the motions with his squire. "Keep your shield up! Keep it up!" Sweat dripped down the boy's body as he tried to obey. A dance he enjoyed. Dickon would make a fair sword one day. Though not great. Still, he was a good lad even if overeager. It reminded him of Loras and how excited he was to squire with Lord Renly at Storms End. Maybe it would have been better for all of them if they never crossed paths? Loras would still live. Margaery wouldn't have been maimed for the sake of ambition. Garlan shook his head and focused on his squire not roads not taken. He'll loosen up.

"You are the greatest sword in the Seven Kingdoms!" Dickon declared when he collapsed from exhaustion.

"There are better swords than I young Tarly," He chuckled. "Keep at it, you'll make a fair martial lord one day."

"I shall I swear it!"

Garlan chuckled and ruffled his hair before retiring for the night.

The next morning, news arrived from his outriders. Goldengrove had been abandoned, and he saw the reason when they rode up the road. Broken walls. Shattered gates. It was indefensible, especially for the numbers opposed to them. They draped the golden rose of House Tyrell over the walls.

The lifeline of Lord Tywin's army has just been cut.

"Send word to my brother and Lord Tarly. We have reclaimed Goldengrove once more."

Renly

The Old Lion wishes to parlay.

Renly smiled at the thought. How low have I brought him? Men like Lord Gulian Swann advised caution, but they were dull men without the flair for risk. They spoke of boring things like supply lines or the weather. Those lords went their entire lives like his brother Stannis, living like turtles, never venturing outside their shells and enjoying the finer things in life. They would be better served eating a peach. Prudence was boring. No one ever wrote songs off the cautious. The great Lord Tywin coming to him from a position of weakness. A beggar in all but name. It was something that couldn't be passed. Servants shaved some stubble from his face and washed his hair until it shined. I wish to look my best when I vanquish the lion. It would be a victory even Robert could be proud of. Even the Trident would pale compared to the Battle of Bitterbridge. A colossal clash for the fate of the Seven Kingdoms. Once I have Lord Tywins head on a spike. My nephews position will be more vulnerable. Thirty thousand Stormlords rode with him and his scouts had informed him the Lannisters didn't even have half the number.

His servants bowed as one of them showed his face in the mirror. Strong. Powerful. He looked like a king. Tall, dark-haired, with a broad chest. His squires fitted him in enameled green armor. Tobho Mott had made it for him and no one made more beautiful suits of steel than him. The only thing he lacked was a crown on his head. Loras often told him he would wear the crown better than anyone. If only his knight of flowers could be with him. None of his companions compared to him. Slender as a reed with beautiful hair and a chiseled body without flaw. Loras was perfect.

Today was the start of his reign. When the maesters wrote of it, it would begin here at Bitterbridge where he defeated the vile Tywin and avenged his golden rose.

He pushed the tent flaps away. A horse awaited him, along with his escort. A dozen household knights traveled with him among them: Ser Bryce Caron, Ser Guyard, and Ser Brus Buckler. All of them were mounted. "Sleep well, my lord?" Ser Guyard asked.

"I had a dream from the Seven about this day. A good omen, I think ser."

Ser Bryce's eyes widened. "Then victory is assured."

"Thank the Warrior!" Ser Brus Buckler chimed.

A round of snickers broke out, catching him off guard. Renly twisted around and saw the reason. The ugly cow was riding towards them with the eagerness of a child. Men claimed women were made in the image of the Maiden, but Lady Brienne must have been the exception. Tall as a man with shoulders as broad as logs, with rough features of a soldier. The Gods couldn't even give her a pretty smile. "Wait!" She cried out and placed her sword at his feet. "Grant me the honor of accompanying you, my liege!" At least she was funny to look at. Nothing was as ugly as her.

"On your feet," He said graciously. "Your skill is not in doubt." He had seen her put knights into the dirt. The freak she was. "But I have another task for you. A task of the greatest importance to my heart." The idea came to him suddenly, and it humored him.

"I'm yours to command." Lady Brienne said seriously.

"My wife, Lady Margaery, needs a sworn sword." Renly said. "A sword to protect what is most important to me."

"You wish me to protect Lady Margaery?"

He nearly laughed at how awestruck she was. Renly nodded.

"I swear I shall safeguard her with my life." She pledged.

"Then I name you Lady Brienne Tarth, a sworn sword in service to House Baratheon." It was terribly amusing placing his ugly duckling of a wife with the walking cow. A maimed flower and a mannish woman. How it would make him laugh! And what was better than mocking absurd things? He bade her to ride back to camp. When he returned from the parlay, he would send her back to Storms End. When she was out of sight, Ser Guyard laughed. "Dumb bitch,"

"It's not right for a woman to wear chain mail." Ser Brus said.

Renly chuckled. "It's for our benefit, I'm sure. I don't want to see what's under that chest plate."

"A flat chest. I'm sure." Ser Guyard claimed.

They roared with laughter except for Ser Bryce. It was curious he often laughed at his japes.

"Are you well ser?" Renly asked him.

"My father told me it's cowardly to mock someone behind their back." A silence fell upon them as his companions flinched as if struck before glaring with outrage.

Renly nodded. "And so it is. Thank you for reminding me. You are a good man ser and your father was a wise man." And nothing was more boring in the world. He perked up with pride like a dumb fool.

It was a quick trip as they met halfway between the camps. The crimson red of House Lannister flew proudly on the field. Lord Tywin wore steel plate armor enameled in deep crimson and highlighted with gold. His eyes shined with Lannister pride, but Renly only saw an old decrepit man in his final years of life. Those around him were significantly less impressive than the Old Lion. A troop of musicians with her instruments and a couple of septons who rode beside the Old Lion wearing white robes of the faith. Only two knights traveled with him, carrying the banner of House Lannister and the flag of truce. "I mislike, he brought so few knights," Ser Bryce said.

"He is with men of the faith!" Ser Brus exclaimed. "All is well ser, or do men of the cloth unman you so?"

Ser Bryce reddened.

Renly figured he was trying to show that he was in control by coming with so few men. He kicked his steed forward. "Thinking of joining the Faith, my lord?" He japed. "I don't think there is a soul to save. And why did you bring musicians? Shall you play us some tune? I hope it isn't something dull like the Rains of Castamere. It's overdone."

He didn't even blink, merely gazing at him in stony silence. Renly only heard the heavy breathing of horses or the gentle flapping of the banners. "Take a vow of silence, my lord?"

"I'm not impressed." He voiced with no emotion. "your brother Robert never impressed either, but he made an impression at least. The Demon of the Trident who ended the dragons." And I shall end your dynasty. Renly thought.

"Mayhaps this is our Trident, my lord? You could be Prince Rhaegar! An older Prince Rhaegar, of course." Renly smiled lazily.

Lord Tywin didn't blink. "You tell good japes. Tell me when the Mountain split Ser Loras in two, did you jape then?"

He hardened. "Don't speak his name, Lannister."

"Ser Loras, the Knight of Flowers, dead before his time." He continued in an indifferent tone. It was grating. He almost grinded his teeth like Stannis. "Slain at my command."

Renly heart stopped. Did he just confess so brazenly? "You admit it then?"

"Yes, and these fine men have absolved me of my sin." He gestured to his septons, who stared mutely. "Maybe you would wish to confess your sin as well? Your fornication with Ser Loras mayhaps? Stealing the boy's purity. He was your ward. A young boy and you stole his innocence."

It was blinding his rage. Robert always told him a Baratheon holds the fury of the storm in his chest. Once the storm was awoken. It was unstoppable. Uncontrollable. "Anyone in your path is a dead man." Robert had said. "You shall drown them Renly." The storm was upon him and the center of its fury Tywin Lannister. "I'LL KILL YOU!" Renly drew his steel and charged. Eyes locked. Sword flying as the distance became nothing until he could see the whites of his eye. Nothing could save him now. Ours is the Fury! Crack! Crack! His horse tumbled to the ground as he screamed. Lord Tywin stood untouched over him. He was smiling, a terrifying thing that sent a shiver down his spine. The horse trapped him underneath its body and he was helpless to defend himself.

"Protect our- A cry started before being silenced by more cracks. Renly saw the source. The septons. The musicians have crossbows. Bolts flew and buried themselves in his men as swords were drawn and a dance of steel emerged from the survivors. One musician still played.

And who are you the proud lord said that I must bow so low?

Ser Guyard gurgled on his own blood. A bolt had pierced his neck.

Only a cat of a different coat. That's all the truth I know.

A head rolled next to him. Ser Brus brown eyes, surprised by his own death. Renly tried to squirm away. Fear had seized him like the stranger. Make the music stop! Tears formed in his eyes. Make it stop, please!

In a coat of gold or a coat of red. A lion still has claws.

Steel gauntlets seized him, and he couldn't feel his legs. It sapped all the strength from him. Why can't I feel my legs?

And mine are long and sharp, my lord. As long and sharp as yours

The false septons tied him against the back of the horse like a sack of flour. Renly still heard the clang of swords and hope clung to him.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke. That lord of Castamere.

Ser Bryce was actually beautiful as he cut down a Lannister knight and charged for him as strong as the Warrior. Hope swelled in his chest. He'll save me! The Warrior Reborn crumbled a foot away from him, a bolt sticking out his eye. Brave Bryce dead with all the rest.

But now the rains weep o'er his hall. With no one there to hear.

The horse carried him away. Away from the fields of death. It rode away from the song, but he knew how it ended.

Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall. And not a soul to hear

Renly wept.

Brienne

Lords Buckler, Swann, Selmy, Errol, Penrose, Dondarrion voices were raised in a heated contest of words. Dozens of knights crowded into the pavilion. "THIS IS A DISASTER!" bemoaned Ser Richard Morrigen. "RENLY SEIZED! MY BROTHER SLAIN!" His voice was filled with grief as a man wearing the sigil of gryphons patted him on the back.

"WE MUST RESCUE HIM!"

"RESCUE? IT WOULD BE FOLLY! THEY WOULD TAKE HIS HEAD!"

"CRAVEN!"

"FOOL!"

"BY THE SEVEN THE LANNISTERS HAVE ALREADY DEPARTED THE FIELD!"

"IT IS HOPELESS THEN!"

Curses and slurs were uttered. One aimed at the Dornish lad Edric Dayne who drew the ire and frustration of Ser Errol. Lord Beric drew his steel. "Say such again! And I'll cut you down where you stand! I'm to marry the boy's aunt." Only the intervention of Lord Swann seemed to calm things, as his noble voice was well respected amongst the Storm lords. He soothed tempers and cut through the voices until only he remained. Everyone leaned forward.

"My lords, my friends." He walked to the center. "It's unpleasant to say, but there is little that can be done. Thirty thousand swords we have, but none of which would save him. Any attempt would lead to his death as leal vassals. We must stay our hand."

"SEIZED BY TREACHERY!" The crowd of voices screamed.

Only Ser Gerold in service of Storms End survived the Bloody Parley as they were calling it. "Lannister treachery," He called it. "They disguised soldiers as septons and attacked without provocation. Using unknightly weapons." It caused a great sense of outrage and Brienne agreed with them such tricks were unworthy. They were no true knights. Renly another victim of the madman.

"Aye." Lord Swann agreed. "And the Lannisters may answer for it one day. But not today. The war for us is over, my lords. I'm taking my men and marching home."

Brienne could scarcely believe as other lords nodded or made similar declarations. Only a few hours passed and they were boasting about the glory they would earn on the field. How they would avenge Lady Margaery and capture the Old Lion. "But we swore a vow." Brienne said. All of them did as knights and lords to protect Lord Renly and to follow him into battle. "We all swore an oath. We can't abandon Lord Renly to Tywin Lannister." Sniggers and sporadic bouts of laughter as others sneered with disdain, not at her words, but her presence.

Lord Swann gazed at her with pity in his eyes. "And I'm honoring mine by heading home."

"Yes, let us head home." Lord Buckler declared. "Let the Crown handle Lord Lannister."

It was something she couldn't do. She had sworn her sword to Renly Baratheon. I can't break a holy vow. He was a man worthy of it. A kind, gallant man whom gave her a magical dance while others mocked her. It made her choice easy. That morning she saddled her horse with her equipment and followed the Lannister host northwest. It was her duty as a knight. I shall guard my liege and return him to his wife or die in the attempt.

Authors note: I think this might be one of my smaller chapters, but I think very important ones! Renly has been seized by Tywin Lannister as the war effort swings against House Lannister. Tywin may not be doing a Red Wedding, but a Bloody Parley seems in character with him! Plus we got introduced to Brienne! Anyways, next up we are heading back to KL with Ned and his discovery, then back to Tywins camp as Renly endures his captivity, and then back to Jasper as they march down the Kingsroad.

As always I love seeing reviews!

Natman717: Yeah, things are getting crazy! I'm honestly really torn whether Ned ever would have killed Theon. Duty would say he had too, but Neds whole character is he doesn't kill kids. So I have no idea. As for Stanniss I'm sure we shall get his POV eventually. He's heading to put a beat down on the Greyjoys round two after all!

Jean d arc: Thanks! Glad you liked it!