Loras Tyrell (5 days later)

“Lord Redwyne sends his apologies as he is unable to commit to your cause as he is dedicated to the Tyrell family and they have declared themselves for Tommen. He says he will continue to present your case to the Tyrell family and asks for your patience.” Maester Workall reads as he opens another letter, before handing it to his assistant who places it on a tray. A small pile is gathered on it, each letter bringing my kings frown lower and lower.

“Lord Brackweave says he is sorry for his delay, but though his sickness has passed his son has now fallen ill as well. He regrets he cannot send any troops at the moment as he claims he spotted scouts, either of bandit descent or Stannis’s forces in the nearby woods.” As Workall takes the next letter to read, he stops for the first time and looks at Renly with a concerned look.

As Renly gestures to him with impatience, Workall starts to read without the clarity he did before. “The High Prince of Dorne, Doran Martell will support no one but the true heir to the throne, ah...” He patters off, reluctant to continue.

“Out with it! Tell me exactly what the ‘High Prince’ of Dorne says.” Renly shouts with venom covering his voice. Workall shivers before stuttering the rest of the message. I hold my breath in anticipation, for after all the other rejections, the maester and Renly had grown dulled. For this one to have such an impact, I brace myself at the turnout.

“...The tr-true heir to the throne, some... dressed up... Peacock... Has no right playing at being king!” Workall stutters the beginning before rushing the end. The room holds its breath for what seems like an age before a sudden clash and spark shatters the silence.

“THOSE UNGRATEFULL BASTARDS!!! They should be coming to me on their knees begging to serve me! No right to be king? I am the only one with any right!!” Renly screams to the room as if trying to reach Dorne with his voice alone. One of the braziers sitting beside his throne was grabbed and tossed into the middle of the room, lit coals spilling to the floor.

“The rest of them are just warmongering barbarians who only think about finding the biggest stick so they can extort the commoners for more gold. Do the nobles not realise that I am the only one that can keep the kingdom from falling.” Renly rants to himself, the room deciding to keep quiet.

After several tense moments He speaks again, sharply. “All of you leave me. I need to think.” He waves to the room. Workall and the guards bow before leaving with quick feet. All but myself. I stay where I am and as the rest leave Renly looks to me. We stare at one another before the faintest of a smile appears on his face, the first I have seen in days.

Renly returns to his throne and as he sits I take my place behind him and start to massage his shoulders. He visibly relaxes as I get the deepest of knots, and when he is suitably calm, he asks me in a voice lacking the energy and passion he showed moments ago.

“Was I wrong, Loras? To believeIi could rule a kingdom with kindness rather than fear? I did it with the Stormlands, turned the territory Robert ruined into a land where bellies were full and the common people had shelter over their heads. I could have done it with the rest of them as well, instead of the pointless grudges we had before on actions decades past.” Renly speaks.

I am conflicted, as on one hand Renly is correct. Since taking the seat of Paramount of the Stormlands Renly has charmed the other Lords and Ladies, earning their cooperation in his projects. Emphasising improvements to agriculture and trade between neighbouring domains led to more food and disposable income which led to greater taxes. The Stormlands became the richest it has been for over 50 years.

His plans for the rest of the kingdoms, especially the ones Robert discriminated against, had the means to be successful. With my assistance he already helped the Reach to return to the court in Kings Landing, and together we could release the tensions in Dorne. Like that we would no longer need to spend so many funds on our borders to prevent conflict, and that money could be spent on improving the people’s lives.

Renly even had a plan to improve the Iron Island. After the war with the Ironborn 6 years ago the islands pretty much closed themselves off from Westeros, with minimal trade occurring with the other kingdoms. Renly wanted to use the heir to the Greyjoy throne, Theon Greyjoy, to change the way of the Ironborn.

Not only did Balon’s son grow up outside the Ironborns influence, he was raised by the honourable Eddard Stark a man my father often mentioned his jealousy for his reputation. He would no doubt hold different views from his fellow Ironborn about how to act, but this would put him into contention with his fellow Lords.

That is where Renly would offer his assistance, providing his support in terms of trade and military from the Reach and Stormlands to help the Ironborn adopt new policies and even change the millennia long feud with the islanders and the mainland. But...

“But that requires people actually listening to me.” Renly answers for me, his smile changing to one of mocking.

“People do listen. The Dornish are prickly bastards who hate your family to the bone, you can’t take that one letter for granted. The other lords are just undecided. I don’t know what my family is doing, but I am sure they are tricking the Lannisters. They would never betray your kindness towards them after all these years.” I say in their defence, trying to keep his hopes up.

“Undecided? You are right about that. They haven’t decided who is going to win this fight yet so they are avoiding any side, just like during my brothers rebellion. Even my own Lords, those that gave their word to fight besides me always, have sided with my brother over me. Even the ones like Brackweave who say they are on my side are avoiding me at all possibilities. His son falls sick right after he did? Scouts in the woods when House Buckler at Bronze Gate has seen not even a wiff of foreign forces? He is stalling until I either march to war where I win or lose without him, or I am attacked and he can hide in his keep under the excuse of defending his home.” Renly dismisses my words, even spiting my family, though I think he doesn’t realise that.

I decide not to hold it against him, as painful it is to have my lover speak the words many mocked us for in the past. Though the past actions of my family are often misunderstood by those who fail to look too deeply, I can’t defend them too strongly since their current actions do speak against them.

I am just about to try and offer more words of encouragement, when the doors suddenly swing open to let in the captain of the guards, Michael, who performs a quick salute before speaking.

“My king! Apologies for the interruption. An urgent raven has arrived from Lord Staemon. He says Stannis has attacked! His fleet sailed down the Wind water and ambushed his keep. If nothing is done they will fall within the next 2 days.” Michael announces.

Shocked I and Renly freeze for a moment before my king shows concern for his follower. “Michael, is there any way we can send aid in time?” He asks.

“Impossible, my King. Staemon reports that Stannis is leading a force 10,000 strong. Most of our forces are concentrated here and at the Bronze Gate. Neither can mobilise and travel fast enough to make any difference to the fight, and unless we combine our numbers we can’t defeat such a force in the field.” Michael answers in the negative.

“My king, let me lead our forces to the Bronze Gate. We can’t save Staemon, but if we don’t stop his advance he will sweep the central Stormlands causing most of our supporters to desert us.” As I step around the throne I ask Renly while kneeling.

While Stannis controls the King’s fleet and most of the coastal Lords have sworn to him, the opposite is true for the inland Lords. If we use the Bronze Gate to pin down his forces we could barricade the Wind water and prevent Stannis’s forces from being resupplied by his fleet. Then it is just a matter of wearing him down and one of Renly’s greatest problems will disappear like that.

“This is our chance. If we trap Stannis then we can unite the Stormlands, and King’s Landing will fall next.” I sell him my plans, and he expresses his concern for me to my joy.

“Can you win though? My brother is a lot of foul things, but a poor commander he is not.” Renly asks with worry.

“Not to worry, my King. Stannis may have earned his fame on the seas, but I will show him that I am no fake knight.” While others may mock me as the ‘flower knight’ few dare to say it to my face, for fear they find themselves beaten by the man they mock.

My father trained me since young, arranging the best tutors to turn me into the ideal knight, whether in the sword or the field. Dozens have surrendered in the face of my sword or fallen from my joust. If Stannis dares to face me I will show him the thorns of the Tyrell family.

Likely seeing the resolution in my eyes, Renly nods his head and replies. “Very well. I, Renly Baratheon, first of my name, hereby name Ser Loras Tyrell as the War Marshall for my forces. You may take all but my guard with you and command all who swear to me. If you can defeat Stannis then you may do so. But buying time is the most important. Remember, I need you to stall Stannis for 2 months. If you can then victory is at hand.” Renly makes his declaration followed by a cryptic reminder. I don’t know what he means but just nod and agree before leaving.

Now isn’t the time to question him and I need to be quick if we want to keep the initiative.

Thomas Hanker (2 days later)

Pain. That was the first thing I felt as I woke up, my head splitting in two. As I opened my eyes I tried to reach up and grab my head but quickly realised that was impossible. A tugging feeling on my wrists which I saw was caused by the bindings between them and the chair I was sitting on. A quick look to my surroundings showed I was in a small room with wooden walls.

The aching in my joints wasn’t enough to dissuade my panic. I quickly tried to free myself, but found my legs and waist were similarly tied to the chair and my efforts only resulted in losing balance and nearly falling.

Just as I was about to hit the floor, a strong force steadied me from behind. The relief I felt at not falling was short lived, as soon as I was righted my helper showed himself to me.

A large maw filled with teeth circled from behind, leading to a body like a bears, but slimmer and with thicker fur. A long bushy tail and feet that seemed to leave prints in the hard wooden. All of these gave the animal a terrifying presence.

But the truly scary thing about this beast was its eyes. Looking into them I could see them staring back, not with hunger, but intelligence. It watched my movements and even glanced at the restraints at my arms and legs for a moment before returning to my face.

After a few agonizing seconds, the beast turned and left the room, even pausing to close the door! As the door closed I felt my heart that previously seemed to stop, pound against my chest like it was trying to escape. It took several deep breaths to calm down slightly, and it was then I noticed a smell.

Realising what it was I looked down and realised my trousers were damp from what I can only assume is piss. I frowned at first, but soon became confused.

“My bladder was empty, I didn’t piss just then, why are they damp?” I asked myself, though in a voice barely louder than a whisper. I didn’t want to risk the monster coming back after hearing a ruckus.

As I think on why my trousers are wet I am reminded of what happened before I got into this situation. I sleeping on the hill a short distance from Fairmarket, Harry, my friend, was on watch.

The 2 of us are scouts that were assigned to keep an eye out for any suspicious crossings on the bridge crossing the Blue Fork. Large supply convoys, bands of riders or numerous men carrying weapons, that sort of thing.

It was supposed to be a safe job. Though a few weeks ago it would have been dangerous with the Blackfish and his raiders riding around, but since that monster in armour showed up they all scattered to the winds. And though we were on the lookout for enemy reinforcements, the number of Houses that can help are too few, so the likelihood of trouble was low to say the least.

That doesn’t mean me and Harry were taking it easy though. 5 years ago, Ser Kevin, brother to the Lord, reorganised the scouts and updated our training. Harry and I were dressed in commoners clothing we stole from the locals and operated on rotating watch.

One keeps watch, the other sleeps with shifts rotating on a 4 hour basis. Every 3 days we swap with another team. If we spot something then one of us runs back to the house we appropriated, where the rest of our team and horses are waiting. We will send a message to the main force while the other stays to get a better idea of the numbers and other details.

Our spot was well hidden, and even if someone spotted us I had the idea to collect some dry wood and keep it beside us. If someone did come along we would pretend to be gathering firewood.

All that didn’t help when Harry suddenly gasped in pain and I looked to see him bent over. I shot up in surprise and started towards him, when suddenly a giant shadow leapt from the bushes and charged across the short clearing to me.

I didn’t even see it clearly before it pounced and I was knocked flat on the ground, wind expelling from my chest. As I tried to suck in air, a powerful force pressed on my throat. I struggled and grasped at the hairy appendage before the lack of oxygen forced me unconscious.

I realise they must have taken me somewhere, and it is then realise this room is familiar. It used to be the storage room for the man that lived here until we appropriated it to store our equipment. The familiar surroundings don’t make me feel any better, as whoever kidnapped me has found our hideout as well.

Just then the room opens, and as I shiver at the thought the beast returned, a man enters. Tall, with strong frame, a sword resting at his hip.

“Excellent, you’re awake. I was wondering if you maybe got a concussion and that would make this next part more difficult for me.” The man says with a smile like seeing an old friend.

I was going to ask what was happening when he turned around and I saw the monster again. The thing entered the room and turning my chair around, it started to drag me out.

“Let’s get this interrogation started, shall we? You woke up just as I was about to start preparing dinner and the 2 of us are hungry.” The man with a smiling face laughs light heartedly. Each word he says sends shivers down my spine and I nearly begin weeping.