Chapter 22 (Revamped)

(Alester Florent, Florent Encampment)

"Footly is demanding we relieve his siege as soon as possible," Alester spoke out first.

"Is he mad?"

"I refuse to sacrifice my men for his folly!"

"Who's idea was it to attack that monster's lands?"

"What good would that do? He's already nearly done for anyways."

"Utter foolishness."

"Absolutely not."

"ENOUGH!" Axell roared, silencing the tent.

The objections of the lords gathered went silent, though a few continued muttering and murmuring under their breath, their expressions telling of how exactly they felt about the situation that was thrust upon them.

It had been Axell's brother Ryam who had suggested attacking the Riverlands, their fool brother went so far as to urge his brother-in-law Lord Footly to attack while Mudd's attention was elsewhere.

For this reason, Alester had made sure Ryam was nowhere near the meeting tent, lest the lords turn their ire on him. Footly had been an idealistic fool, with too much bravo and little to no thought in his skull, but he had a lot of friends, many of whom were in this tent. 

It would be unwise to say anything, especially while tempers were still high.

"Despite Lord Footly's brash actions, Lord Erlend has yet to declare his support for the fat oaf, we can still salvage this." Alester reasoned.

The gathered Lords nodded their heads to his words, once many had taken a step back to think, they realized the rumors of a Tyrell-Mudd alliance were highly unlikely. After all, the young lord and his forces had just finished reclaiming the Riverlands, conquering the crownlands, and subduing the Mountain Clans.

Yes, he'd already proven himself as a Commander and a respectable Lord, but his men were likely haggard and needed to recuperate, there was no reason for him to throw his Banners into another war.

Unfortunately due to the brash decisions of one of their own, they were now in the unenviable position of facing an unamused Mudd. Tales of his ruthlessness and martial prowess made them quite nervous.

No one wanted to take part in a second Great Grass Slaughter.

Especially when their most experienced commander in the North, Mathis Rowan had sided with the Tyrells, putting them in a disadvantageous position.

That's without mentioning Lorimas Mudd and Yohn Royce, both renowned knights and proven commanders, as well as the most recent rising star Ser Duncan Strong, who was currently besieging Tumbleton.

"Perhaps we could request a meeting with Lord Erlend?" Lord Crane suggested. Murmurs of agreement could be heard around the tent.

Axell pondered the suggestion, it wasn't a terrible idea and could give them some room to reposition themselves now that they were facing a war on two fronts.

"I heard that Lord Erlend burned a raven sent by the Tyrells." Ser Norcross spoke up.

"I heard he wasn't particularly happy about the rumors." Another one agreed.

"Who would be, no sensible lord likes to be used as a pawn."

"It was probably that grape bitch Olenna who spread it."

"Yeah, she must've wanted to force Lord Mudd into an alliance."

"Might've wanted him to impregnate her daughter and then smother him in his sleep." One lord jested.

"Wouldn't put it past the Old Hag."

Alester let out a sigh, as the lords devolved into another argument about how terrible the Redwyne hag was. Not that he disagreed, like most of the lords present, he had heavy suspicions about how Luthor had died.

'Rode himself off a cliff, what a sack of horse shit'

Luthor may not have been the most intelligent of fellows, but the man wasn't stupid enough to kill himself like that. More than likely the hag had orchestrated his death and seized control over the Reach through her oaf of a son.

While there was some pity in him for Mace, it wasn't enough to quell his ambition to gain the rightful position House Florent was owed, they were after all the most direct descendants of the late Gardeners.

May their souls rest in peace.

It almost felt poetic how the last dragons were killed by the very thing that saw the Gardener line extinguished. Perhaps the seven had decided to avenge his ancestors. 

…

(Mace Tyrell, Tyrell Encampment)

Mace was confident he could win this war, the war that would finally put those smug proud fools in their places, the war that would ensure his house's position would remain secure forevermore. 

The War that would put his name in the history books, as one of the greatest Tyrells to ever rule Highgarden. Hell, he might surpass 'Longthorn' himself.

Despite Randyll refusing to heed his calls to assemble, the man at least did his duty and made sure those Dornish snakes weren't getting anywhere near Highgarden.

He was sure that the grizzled Lord would eventually come to his senses and realize what a great Leader and Commander Mace made. It was his genius that saw Robert flee for his life at Ashford and the Stormlords cowering in their keeps.

Oh, he knew that many mocked him behind his back. Bah, he'd show them all their places, and when they come crawling for mercy and forgiveness he might be magnanimous enough to let them off with a few minor punishments.

Standing there proudly, Mace Tyrell felt on top of the world.

…

(Olenna Tyrell, Highgarden)

"I don't particularly know why, but I feel like your brother is thinking something stupid again." She said.

"You're probably not wrong Mother," Janna replied.

"Of course not, I'm never wrong, silly girl." This earned her a roll in the eyes of her daughter.

"Has Lord Erlend responded to the raven?" Janna asked, wanting to change the topic.

Seeing no reason to deny the change, "No, the Mudd has yet to respond. More than likely he's furious with the rumors." Olenna said plainly.

The frown her silly flower sent her showed what she thought of everything. The girl had not been pleased with the way they went about it. It couldn't be helped, men like him would never come willingly.

Unfortunately for once, the girl was right, while the rumors had done their job by bringing the Mudds into the conflict thanks to Footly's stupidity, it was not on their side, rather the young man seemed intent on hanging both parties. 

"I heard from Willas that one of his trusted Commanders had died during the Footly's attack." Janna looked worried.

Olenna nodded in response, not many were aware of it but one of Erlend's Commanders, a good friend of his, had perished in the attack. 

The only reason they were aware of this, was because they managed to sneak in a few spies who were posing as servants for some of the river lords.

They'd still failed to turn any of the enlisted men from the Banners or the Officers to their side. Whatever the young conqueror and his forbearers had done to gain so much faith and loyalty from their men truly baffled her and admittedly impressed her.

The current situation for the Tyrells wasn't as bad as it could've been had they not made their recent marital ties, otherwise they would've already been ousted from Highgarden.

These buffoons should be glad her family had chosen to support them.

---

Tyrell Loyalists: Hightower, Bulwer, Beesbury, Costayne, Blackbar, Meadows, Rowan, Redwyne and Fossoway.

Florent Loyalists: Crane, Footly, Norcross, Merryweather, Caswell, Appleton, and Oakheart.

Neutrals: Serry, Chester, Grimm, Hewett, Peake, Tarly, Hunt, Mullendore, Cuy and Ashford.

Uncertain: Various Minor houses, the most prominent being House Osgrey.

---

While it could be argued that House Tyrell had the advantage both in the number of Houses supporting them and the men they could call to arms, a significant portion of these Houses had their men tied up in defending the Reach from the recent surge in Ironborn raids.

The Shield Isles could only do so much in keeping them out and none of the Houses wanted their families to be placed in danger by focusing all their troops in supporting the Tyrells.

There was also the lack of experienced Commanders in the Tyrell forces, Mathias was holed up in his keep, unable to make a move, having been surrounded by Florent supporters.

Randyll wanted nothing to do with this civil war despite his marriage to a Florent, being more focused on the Dornish rather than what he considered a bunch of ambitious fools.

Last she heard from Mace, he had put Brightwater Keep on siege in hopes of demoralizing the Florents should they lose their ancestral seat. Though it was unlikely he'd get any of the members that mattered as hostages, apparently most of them had been moved to Red Lake long before the war began.

There was also the issue with Erlend Mudd, they had been unable to get to him before the war had begun, having been on the move for nearly his whole Riverlands campaign. 

Not to mention there were rumors of a potential marriage between him and Catelyn Tully, which while wouldn't bring him much manpower, would solidify his hold over the Riverlands. Something Janna wouldn't be able to provide, much to her annoyance.

A rather strapping young man appeared, interrupting her thoughts. He looked quite nervous, it was probably due to her guards Left and Right.

"I apologize my Lady, but this just came from Lord Tarly." Raising her eyebrows at the parchment, Janna grabbed it for her and read through it.

Olenna simply waited for her daughter to finish reading, while she sized up the young man, he wasn't too terrible to look at.

"Oh my…" gasped Janna.

Looking curiously at the astonished look on her daughter's face, "Well, What is it that's gotten that bastard's knickers in a twist?" Olenna asked.

"House Manwoody, Fowler, and Blackmont have raised their men-at-arms and are marching towards Hunt." She replied.

"Well shit…" was all Olenna could say to that.

…

(Lyanna Stark, Summerswind Manor)

She couldn't remember how long it had been since she and Saera had been brought to this Manor. While she would admit that it was a pleasant place to stay in, her heart still yearned for Winterfell.

Back to the only place she truly felt safe in since the mess that was the tourney.

At the least, the 'Vaunted' Kingsgaurd that had kept her locked up in the tower, were now themselves locked up somewhere here. It was quite amusing that the greatest warriors and 'knights' in Westeros were brought down by a couple of well-shot darts. 

Speaking of darts, it reminded her of Howland Reed. Her close friend had warned her about Rhaeger and yet she foolishly ignored his warnings, skeptical that someone as awkward and fidgety as him could understand something as profound as love.

A childish crush she assumed was love and a desperation to escape her fate of being Robert's broodmare led to her practically throwing herself to Rhaeger.

The smug bastard took no small pleasure in poking at her naivety after he'd managed to put a baby in her. While she could never hate Saera, there was little to no question that her birth would always be a sign of tragedy and resentment.

It was why she had yet to gain the courage to write to her only remaining brother, too afraid of what his reaction would be.

Was it petty of her to name her daughter after a defiant daughter and the supposed lover of what could have been one of the few good kings that detestable bloodline had ever produced?

Then again that would-be king was allegedly a bastard with Strong blood in him, so that probably helped. She had met Denys Strong and the man had a good head on his shoulder, and his brother Duncan was pleasant enough on his own, if a bit foolhardy.

She hoped that silver bastard was rolling in his grave, he might have gotten the Visenya he wanted but he'd never be able to drag her into his mad prophecy.

There would be no three heads of a dragon after the disaster that was the 'Burning'. A large part of her pitied Elia for the loss of her son, but there was still a small part of her that took immense satisfaction in Rhaegers mad plans being turned to ashes.

His so-called prophecy was missing a head after all.

Staring at her daughter, she let out a quiet sigh. She was happy that Saera took more after her than the silver bastard.

With brown hair and long gray eyes, she was a Stark through and through. Hopefully, that alone would perhaps cool any outrage from the northern lords and ladies.

There were worries in her head about whether she would be considered a bastard or not. While Rhaeger had indeed annulled his marriage to Elia and married her, there was little that could be done if the rest of the lords refused to acknowledge the marriage.

There was also Dorne's reaction to all of this.

As a mother, how could she not fear for the future of her child? The only thing that was keeping her calm was the dozens of ravens exchanged between her and Erlend reassuring her of her and Saera's safety.

Erlend Mudd was a mystery to her, before all of this, she only ever knew him as a potential suitor her father had intended to throw her at before he set his sights on Robert.

He was a well-respected Commander and the head of one of the most prestigious houses in the known world. Ignoring the fact that they were an exiled royal/noble house and looking at the connections, legacy, wealth, and military power they had. It wasn't exactly surprising her father would see him as a prominent suitor for her hand.

Erlend for his part had largely always been too busy to set up a proper meeting with her father. A real shame that was, she wondered how different things would be if he had been her betrothed instead.

Regardless of the past, Lyanna was thankful to him for not only getting her out of that damned tower but also for allowing her free reign to explore the Twilight Isles.

She was well aware of the general opinion of her, many either saw her as a fool, a damsel, or a curse. While she no longer cared much about her safety, her daughter's life on the other hand was her prime concern.

It was only because of Saera, that she survived the birthing bed. Otherwise, she would have welcomed the chance to reunite with her family.

The judging gazes of her family would have been a reprieve to the pain she felt at hearing about their deaths. Those fucking knights had only mentioned Neds passing as an fucking afterthought when they told her of Rhaegers death.

She didn't care about the silver-haired cunt, having been near dizzy with joy at his passing. Robert might have only loved the idea of taming her but at least the manwhore did the world a great favor by getting rid of that demented prick.

Ned, was a complicated topic, as her brother she had loved him unconditionally, but she couldn't help but feel betrayed when he suggested a marriage between her and Robert. 

That didn't mean she loved him any less, but it still hurt.

Now they would never be able to reconcile, she would never be able to apologize to her family. Her only hope was that Benjen could be happy with his wife and child.

Saera was her priority now and she would make sure she would never make the same mistakes she had made.

…

(Erlend Mudd, On the March)

"What do you mean he fucking married Delena Florent." Erlend looked exasperated at what he'd just been told.

The messenger looked quite nervous having brought this news to the young lord, "General Duncan had chosen to marry her after she helped heal him from his injuries" He stated nervously.

"For fucks sake!" Erlend bellowed out. 

To the lords and officers around him, several curses and mutterings could be heard after that, the most prominent being, "Is he trying to fucking emulate Robb".

"Who's Robb?"

"Maybe it's Sergeant Robbar."

"What kind of name is that?"

"How the hell would I know…"

"Who cares about this Robb fellow, what the hell was Duncan thinking?" Yohn interjected.

"With his cock probably." Lorimas chortled.

"Where the hell was Denys in all of this?" Erlend asked, ignoring his Uncle's jest.

"He was busy coordinating the garrisoning and supply lines, my Lord," Jasper answered.

Erlend felt a headache coming, Duncan was a good general, but the man's immunity to alcohol was worse than a recently inducted frat boy.

Ironically, the Strong Lord had seduced and deflowered Delena Florent who, alongside her family, had chosen to stay in Tumbleton rather than Red Lake as the rest of Florence had done. 

She was the same woman Robert would have deflowered in his brother's wedding bed. To preserve her honor, Duncan had chosen to wed her in a small ceremony, which was something that could be respected.

Honestly, Erlend wouldn't have cared much if the bloody fool had done so after the war but he'd decided to do so right at the beginning of this new campaign.

Denys, Duncan's brother, had sent word to Erlend of the matter, though it was already too late to put a stop to it. The good news was that he could use this marriage to keep the Florents somewhat powerful after the war as a potential deterrent for any Tyrell power grab in the future.

The issue was it prevented a marriage he'd wanted to arrange between Duncan and one of the Vance daughters, which would have guaranteed Duncan's hold over the lands he intended to grant him as a reward for House Strong's loyal service this past century.

Good news, there were still Deny's who remained unwed, so there's that, not to mention the Feld brothers and his Uncle who he considered granting land to. There were also the various officers and minor lords who'd done quite well in the Conquest.

It still left a sour taste in his mouth that one of his plans had been ruined by Duncan's nonsense, but ever since the 'Battle of the Trident', he'd realized that despite all his power, there would always be something that he couldn't control or predict, instead he just had to be able to weather through them.

Case and point is the Dornish recent incursion into the Marcher Lords' territory. While his Shadow Wardens had been fanning the flames within Dorne to destabilize the region. The result had been far larger than expected with three major houses contributing their men and resources for what appeared to be an invasion into the reach.

This spoke volumes of how little control Doran now had over his lords since he'd not planned any of this. More than likely, Oberyn had a hand in this incursion, seeing it as vengeance for the Reach lord's lack of real contribution during the rebellion.

Regardless of who masterminded this, though he heavily suspected Oberyn and his paramour Ellaria. This would at least ensure that none of the marcher lords would be able to support the Tyrells during his invasion of the Reach.

He didn't have time for any sentimental changes of heart, especially when it could end in him being surrounded by all sides.

With Tumbleton now under their control, word had been sent from the Ring by the Roxtons declaring their support for House Mudd, House Shermer of Smithyton had also followed suit and declared its support. Of the neighboring Houses, only the Meadows were left, Tyrell Loyalists choosing to remain silent and holing themselves up in their seat.

He and his Men were currently marching through Hayford and would soon be arriving at Tumbleton, from there they would link up with the Banners and the men sent by Roxton and Shermor, where strategies could be drawn up to see where they would move from there.

Erlend had no interest in dragging out this campaign, as he intended to effectively blitzkrieg his way through this war, having neither the inclination nor care to drag this out longer than required.

If his growing kingdom was to become the Prussia of this world, then he should get to teaching these French expies a lesson in humility.