Chapter 272: Quelling the Rebellion

The great hall of Highgarden fell into a deathly silence.

Rebel and Ironborn soldiers at the entrance stopped in their tracks, unsure of what to do next.

Not everyone was paralyzed with fear, however. Lady Arwyn Oakheart, with a sharp blade pressed to her throat, defiantly shouted,

"Kill him! Don't mind me, Togen! Kill him!"

Crack!

Samwell dislocated Lady Arwyn's jaw with a single strike, cutting off her shouts. All she could produce now were guttural, choking sounds.

"Stop! You're not the Pufffish! Who are you?" Ser Togen Oakheart demanded.

"Are you a Faceless Man from the House of Black and White?" asked the Lord of Fossoway, his voice tinged with suspicion.

In the minds of Westerosi, only the Faceless Men were believed to be capable of such transformations.

"Who I am doesn't matter," Samwell said calmly. "What matters is that I now have a hostage." He refrained from revealing his true identity—if the rebels discovered it was him, they might act recklessly and try to kill him regardless of the cost.

Ser Togen's face twitched as he tried to maintain composure. "What do you want?"

"To negotiate," Samwell replied with a faint smile. "The Reach army will arrive soon. You're running out of time."

"We have hostages. They won't dare attack," Togen countered.

"Don't be so sure," Samwell said coolly. "The northern forces are led by Randyll Tarly, and the southern forces by Baelor Hightower. Both armies are predominantly loyal to the Tyrells. Haven't you realized Lady Olenna's resolve? She won't negotiate with you."

Togen hesitated, uncertainty creeping into his expression.

Samwell pressed further.

"Lady Arwyn might be a madwoman consumed by vengeance for her sons. But what about the rest of you? Are you all prepared to follow her to ruin? Do you really want to see the Oakheart's wiped out?"

Ser Togen clenched his teeth and fell silent for a long moment before responding.

"You won't even reveal your identity. What right do you have to negotiate with us?"

"Then bring the real Pufffish here and let him negotiate with you," Samwell said.

"Fine," Togen finally relented, signaling for his men to act.

Clearly, not everyone in House Oakheart was as unhinged as Aelinor.

"Oh, and bring Willas Tyrell as well," Samwell added. "He's the heir to Highgarden, and his words carry weight."

Togen did not object and dispatched his men.

Soon, Mace Tyrell and Willas were brought into the hall. The Oakheart knights surrounded them warily, keeping a close watch.

When Mace saw another version of himself standing in the hall, his eyes widened in disbelief.

"You… you… who are you?"

"I'm here to save you," Samwell said, tapping Lady Arwyn's back with the flat of his blade. "House Oakheart has agreed to negotiate. Lord Mace, start discussing terms."

"Negotiate?" Mace stammered, still in a daze.

Samwell sighed inwardly at his future father-in-law's ineptitude and turned to Willas, who sat calmly in his wheelchair, as composed as if he were hosting guests at Highgarden instead of being held hostage.

Willas, far more capable than his father, inclined his head politely.

"Brave, nameless knight, thank you for risking so much to rescue us. On behalf of House Tyrell, you have my deepest gratitude."

Finally, someone with some sense, Samwell thought, nodding in return. He smiled and said,

"Ser Willas, please begin negotiations with the rebels. By the way, King Balon Greyjoy has already agreed to withdraw his forces."

Willas turned to Balon and asked,

"Lord Balon, is this true? Will you withdraw your troops?"

"Yes…" Balon, still clutching his stomach and wincing in pain, nodded reluctantly. He shot a venomous glare at Samwell but lacked the strength to do more.

"Then issue the order," Willas said. "Once the Ironborn have left Highgarden, we will release you."

"No!" roared Victarion Greyjoy. "Release my brother first!"

Willas shook his head firmly.

"You withdraw first. I swear on the honor of House Tyrell that once your forces leave Highgarden, we will release King Balon."

Samwell added pointedly,

"The Reach army will arrive by dawn. If you delay any longer, you'll lose your chance to leave."

Victarion hesitated, but Balon raised a hand to silence him.

"Go. Take the men and leave."

Victarion glared at Willas, gripping his battle-axe tightly.

"I swear by the Drowned God: if House Tyrell breaks its word, I will return and drown Highgarden in blood, no matter the cost!"

With that, he stormed out.

As he reached the door, Mace suddenly called out,

"Wait! Leave behind everything you've plundered!"

Victarion stopped and turned, his expression murderous.

"No one can make the Ironborn surrender what they've taken—not even me."

His words were not idle threats. Even if Balon ordered the Ironborn to abandon their loot, they would rebel.

Willas quickly interjected,

"You may keep what you've stolen, but you cannot take any of Highgarden's people."

Victarion hesitated but finally relented.

"Fine."

With the Ironborn issue resolved, Willas turned to the Oakhearts.

"What are your terms?"

Ser Togen spoke.

"Give us Fellwood in the Stormlands, and promise not to pursue any punishment for this rebellion."

Willas considered briefly before nodding.

"Agreed."

Samwell's lips tightened, but he said nothing. He didn't want to relinquish any territory in the Stormlands, but it was a small price to pay to get the Oakhearts out of Highgarden.

Later, when the time came, Samwell would ensure the Oakhearts regretted their decision. House Tyrell might promise not to pursue retribution, but Samwell had made no such promise.

Satisfied, Togen pressed further.

"How can we trust House Tyrell to keep its word?"

"On the honor of Highgarden," Willas replied calmly.

"That's not enough!" another Oakheart knight shouted. "We need stronger guarantees."

Willas asked patiently, "What do you propose?"

Togen hesitated before saying,

"I have a daughter. Why don't you marry her?"

Willas chuckled.

"If I recall correctly, your daughter is only six or seven years old?"

"She's six," Togen confirmed. "But she'll grow up."

"Very well," Willas said. "If you don't mind my injury, I'll betroth myself to her. Once she comes of age, we will marry."

"That's not enough," Togen insisted. "During the betrothal, you must live at Old Oak to build a bond with her."

"No!" Mace Tyrell objected immediately. Even he could see this was a ploy to take Willas hostage.

Samwell smirked and interjected,

"Willas is too old for that. Perhaps one of Mace's younger nephews could marry your daughter instead?"

"It must be Willas!" Togen said firmly. "Only Highgarden's heir can guarantee House Tyrell's promise."

Mace's face crumpled, and he hesitated, but Willas spoke decisively.

"Father, Highgarden has nurtured me for twenty-six years. It's time I repaid that debt."

Tears welled in Mace's eyes as his son's words sank in.

Turning to the Oakhearts, Willas declared,

"I will go to Old Oak."

Togen sighed in relief but sought final confirmation.

"Lord Mace, do you agree to this proposal? If you do, House Oakheart will withdraw from Highgarden."

Before Mace could respond, the Earl of Fossoway interjected.

"Wait! House Fossoway has demands too."

Willas frowned.

"My brother Garlan has already married your daughter. What more do you want?"

The Fossoway lord grinned slyly.

"We want a Stormlands castle as well. How about Haystack Hall?"

"House Hightower has already claimed Haystack Hall," Samwell said smoothly. "But Rainwood is available."

"Rainwood it is," the Fossoway lord agreed, clearly unaware that Rainwood had not yet been captured.

With the Fossoways appeased, Togen pressed Mace once more. Mace wept and wailed but eventually nodded.

The tense atmosphere in the hall dissipated as everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief—except for Arwyn Oakheart, who remained consumed by her thirst for revenge.

"Well done!" Samwell clapped his hands with a smile. Then his tone shifted, sharp and commanding.

"Now, it's my turn to set terms."

The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to him in shock.

(End of Chapter)