143 The Tyrells Approach

There it was.

Just as they came over the last hill, the horizon stretching out before their eyes, they could finally see it.

The capital city of Westeros.

The source of all political power in the Seven Kingdoms.

Their new kingdom.

Kings Landing.

Yet the war had clearly taken its toll upon the once large and almost insurmountable and impenetrable walls surrounding it. Holes were utterly exposed, parts of the battlements were falling away and other parts of the wall looked to be on the verge of collapse.

Whatever reinforcement that Tyrion and then Aegon had given to the walls upon their respective attempts to prepare the city for siege had not lasted. First under the besieging army of Stannis Baratheon and then under the successful siege of Yohn Royce.

Luckily for them, no one had the money to spare upon rebuilding the walls otherwise Garlan would not have felt as comfortable as they approached it. They were, after all, only a thousand strong, much of the Tyrells army being here already or up North with Robb Stark as he went to war against Stannis.

However, even then, Garlan still did not feel comfortable.

Nor did anyone by the looks on their faces.

Why would they be?

Right outside the walls were thousands upon thousands of tents, the remnants of the Tyrell forces that had been under the command of Dickon Tarly and then Robb Stark upon the Battle of the Bloody Fields. As well as the forces of Aegon Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen on top of that.

Tens of thousands of men.

All armed and standing guard.

They were lucky that for the most part, the men standing guard upon the walls were Vale men under the command of Yohn Royce. At least with him, their path should not be impeded too much, yet that was not to say there wasn't a chance.

Yohn Royce was a good man, a loyal one, but that did not mean in the weeks since Daenerys had been here that his neutrality had not changed. It was quite possible they were walking right into a trap, it wouldn't be too difficult for a 'prisoner' to get loose and kill them. Or many other ways to kill them in the sea of people they were approaching.

'I can't let that happen.' Garlan swore to himself, sparing a short glance back to the carriage. "Surround the carriage, hands upon your blades. Watch your surroundings carefully and do not let a single man approach unless I give permission."

His orders issued, Garlan took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his blade, never once feeling his nerves calm. He had charged into battle dozens of times and come close to death hundreds more and yet never once did he feel as nervous or as tense as he did now.

But in all those times, his family had never been so near to the danger as they were now.

He could not let anything happen to them.

-X-

"Looks like the boys nervous." Beric noted as he rode beside Ned, who had decided against using a carriage as they approached Kings Landing. "I thought one of your son's closest aids would have been able to keep his calm much better than this."

Ned shook his head. "His family are in danger. Even I am nervous due to the life of my grandchild being in such danger." Yet as Ned looked upon the camp, he noticed the Dornish were right upon the outskirts, yet were not in chains. "And the Tyrells and Dornish have never had good relations. Least of all now when they support the Targaryens, the Tyrell's rivals. Garlan has every right to be worried."

"Yet you don't seem overly concerned."

"Because they will do nothing," Ned stated calmly. "My son is up north with over seventy thousand men under his command. Once he is done with Stannis, he shall march south with that army and make sure to exact revenge upon those who let harm come to his child. Whether they had a hand in it or not, I very much doubt Robb would care, nor would I."

"Even doing nothing makes you guilty?" Ned nodded his head at Beric's words who grunted. "Guess we best be alert then as well. Even if you say they will do nothing."

"Oh, they will do something, just not today." There was a strange confidence in his words that made Beric, not for the first time, look upon him strangely. "When the war is over and the armies are returned to their lands when the realm is in too dire of a strait to even think of war, then the moves will be made."

That was how the politics of the south were done.

When the war ended, as the rest of the realm suffered and endured the long, arduous road back to stability and prosperity, the nobles waged a war of plots, schemes and assassinations. No one dared to raise an army, nor could they afford to do so and so, the pen and words were their only weapons. But when they could, they had enjoyed the time of peace too much to risk losing it all in war.

However, eventually, something would have to give and when it did, the entire realm would be plunged into war once more. That was what had led to their current war, the War of Five Kings, perhaps one of the bloodiest conflicts in the history of the Seven Kingdoms long history.

A conflict that had completely reshaped Westeros' political landscape.

"Who do you think will be the first to make a move?" Beric asked.

"The Tyrells." Ned answered firmly, a certainty in his tone that left little room for argument.

"Why?"

"Because while we have been marching to Kings Landing, Daenerys has had free reign to make as many moves as she wishes without much in the way of resistance." Ned explained. "So, if the Tyrells wish to stop any momentum Daenerys has built up, they will need to strike soon and strike hard."

-X-

Feeling the cool air wash over her, ruffling her hair, Daenerys looked out from the Red Keep and down to the bustling city below. She could see it, the Tyrells entering the city to the cheers of the people and why wouldn't the people cheer, food was being gifted to them.

Just as the rumours had spread, wherever the Tyrells went, food soon followed.

The starving people of Kings Landing were now experiencing that joy first hand and they loved the Tyrells for it. 'It's just as Tyrion said.' She thought to herself, smiling at the sight. 'But there's no way you have enough food for everyone and those that are not blessed by you, will soon come to hate you. And those that did, when finding you have no food left, will also turn against you.'

Hearing the door open, Daenerys need not turn around to know that it was Tyrion entering inside. "Your grace." He greeted, already pouring himself a cup of wine. "Shall we head down and greet our guests?"

"I suppose we should," Daenerys admitted, turning away from the city and returning back to her room. "How do we expect them to move when they do arrive?"

"Considering how long it's been since the announcement of Margaery's pregnancy, I imagine she has either given birth on the journey down or is near to doing so." Tyrion murmured, Unsullied guards forming up behind them. "But I imagine that they will have Margaery hidden away inside her room for no one to see until the Tyrells have fully settled themselves inside."

"Why?"

"To make the reveal of the prince even more impactful," Tyrion said. "They'll first try and get a gauge of where the loyalties of the nobles and courtiers lay before revealing the child."

"And if it is not a prince?"

"That is where things get a little more difficult." He replied, but smiled. "However, we have no need to worry. The Tyrells have exhausted much of their resources in the war and there aren't too many things they can do without risking further war that will turn the King against them. We, on the other hand, have shipments of food and wealth coming in very soon. No more than a week away."