297 AC
The Kingsroad to Highgarden, The Reach.
Garlan saw the world in many vast colours; he didn't know why the Seven gave him such a gift. Nevertheless, he was incredibly grateful for it. Now, as he rode beside his brother, the very trees to the side of the muddy road were sparkling with a bright green that seemingly grew stronger each moment it bathed in the regal glow of the sun. It was a tapestry of conflict, yet no colour battled against each other; each took each other for a gentle dance.
His brother was admiring the view also. His Tyrell livery glistening in the golden hue of the midday sun. Garlan loved his brother; he was stiff and strict to all those who were not family, but if you were family, you knew a deep, caring, boundless love. He often forced the whole family to sit at a round table to eat together. Garlan howled at this; father tried reprimanding him, but he couldn't deny his "favourite" son.
Garlan accepted that his father loved Tomas more than him, Loras, and Willas. Willas bringing a slight sadness to Garlan. Willas was crippled and removed from the succession by father, deeming him to be unable to fulfill his duties as his heir. Garlan hated seeing his eldest brother suffering so much. He would search every sea, every land if he could help ease the pain. Tomas felt the same too. Garlan remembered the night; him and Tomas visited Willas when he was removed as heir. Willas was a gentle soul, too kind for this world. He was all but happy that he didn't have to live up to Father's expectations anymore. Hearing Willas's words that day:
"The sadness comes from me having a lame leg; it was a fair price for my freedom."
Willas always spoke of being free, free to pursue his books. He was the most bookish out of all of them. If he didn't slack in his martial training… just maybe. Garlan shook his head. That was the past. Now they had accomplished another of Tomas's tasks: to bring to heel one of the final lords who were partaking in corruption. Tomas had bade him never to speak a word of what was uttered beside him when he spoke to Alec Kidwell. Tomas always was uncanny when it came to his methods, but who in the whole Reach could doubt his results? They were the richest they had ever been. Garlan smiled. His people were happy.
He looked on to see a local inn village, where everything resided due to the inn. Many little villages like this were popping up, as trade was becoming increasingly large in and around Highgarden.
He turned to Tomas.
"We should rest for a night or two. The men are still reeling from the sheer non-stop drinking you imposed on them, brother."
"Ah, you beat me to it, little brother. Always a step ahead, huh?" Tomas chuckled as he slapped Garlan's back.
Garlan snorted. Tomas and his japes. Tomas was the sharpest in his family save for his Grandmother. Grandmother and Tomas always would play that new game Tomas introduced: "Chess."
Grandmother winning half of the time, but Garlan knew that Tomas was only doing so to save her pride. The sheer gap when he himself played Tomas was otherworldly. Tomas always placing him in check as easy as slicing cake.
His mind wandered back to the now as he kicked his steed with a hearty laugh and sped towards the inn. Time for some well-needed rest.
-----
The night was illuminated by a massive moon. Garlan loved the dark blue sweeping the sky. The stars were in full force. This was a pastime he and his brothers would always do: sit on patchy grass and gaze at the stars. Tomas was by his side. The Rosey Blinders were resting, forced by Tomas whenever they pleaded to follow him as he went stargazing. That was his brother, always prioritizing his men's health before his own. It's why, when he announced the formation of the Rosey Blinders, men came out in droves to apply. Garlan obviously went for it, only being rejected partly because Tomas had a "no favour rule."
"Little brother, no one should be given priority. Plus, you don't need a fancy title to be by my side. Now let me clout your ear."
Garlan never knew he could run that much that day. Tomas was exceptionally good at clouting ears. He got away that day in a flash, for Garlan was truly a knight. Tomas was good, but not at Garlan's level. Garlan needed that. His only pride was he was the sword his brother could wield to destroy his enemies.
His mind returned to the present as his brother spoke to him in that state of melancholy whenever it was the both of them.
"Garlan, I have money, wealth, and family, yet I feel a blackness inside. I still see… I still hear… Even if I move different places in time, the horror of that war…"
"War? What war? I would hardly call the Thorn Year a war, brother. Also, in time? Whatever are you speaking about?"
His brother never spoke like this. His brother would, yes, be melancholy and often have periods where he would walk endlessly in the garden, refusing anybody to join him. Margaery often mentioning she saw Tomas holding back tears in his room when she would burst in.
"What bothers you so, brother?" Garlan questioned softly.
His brother still gazing towards the glinting stars.
"I am in a world in which men grasp for power like it is an apple waiting to be plucked. I had hoped that I would be born into a kinder world, a softer one. Ah, after all I did… I guess it was fate I was meant to be here. Yet, Garlan, I do exist. I was born. For that reason, I know I must do something. Yet is it to help the smallfolk? Is it to help the family? Is it to reach for even greater heights? What, just what is a good man's path in this cruel world?"
Garlan felt his eyes widen. This was a sea of conflict he never knew existed beneath those who called his brother the "Dark Rose." Garlan could only give his thoughts.
"Tommy, you can only go further than the steps laid out before you. I will tell you a story."
Tomas chuckled at that.
"Go on."
"There was once an Andal warrior a hundred years gone past who killed many, many enemies. This Andal warrior was praised profusely by those he served. Yet the warrior felt no happiness, no joy. He only remarked how much his hands could never be washed of the blood. He asked to be released of his oath. The oath could only be released by his blood or the blood of a hundred more enemies."
Tomas interjected.
"Let me guess, he sacrificed himself?"
"Allow me to finish, brother. The warrior chose a third option. He killed the lord and every single one of his men-at-arms. Many say the warrior is cursed to the deepest of the Seven Hells for betraying his lord, but would the Seven praise him instead, for he had saved hundreds more from the yoke of a tyrannical noble? Smallfolk say the Andal warrior is a protector. Many are divided."
"Look, brother, there will be those who will not understand your actions. I won't, neither will our family at times. All that matters is you stay true to who you are. I believe you to be my brother. Tomas Tyrell, kind to those he loves but black of night to those who wrong him. The wider goal can come in time."
Tomas smiled as he stood up, bidding Garlan to do the same. They grasped in a brotherly hug.
"My little brother, wise teacher."
"I was named the Gallant for a reason, Tommy."
The hug was cut short as a little child came running to the hill where they resided.
"MI-LORD, HELP, PLEASE. ME SISTER, THA' BICKEN BROTHERS ARE TAKIN' 'ER."
Garlan looked at Tomas, who spoke before him.
"Calm down, boy. Just lead the way."
The tattered, wailing boy looked confused, as if expecting harder resistance. He widened his eyes in joy before quickly turning away.
His little legs bumbling down the hill. Garlan was not in his full armour. He cursed at this. He got too lax. Banditry had been lessened so much by Tomas that many took the peace for granted these few years.
He grit his teeth as Tomas sprinted to follow the boy, Garlan at his heel. Tomas only had his razor. Garlan with his sword.
The boy led them down onto the muddy road towards an alleyway, where many muffles and shouts were being heard. As Garlan reached the alleyway behind Tomas, he saw a family screaming for a poor girl who looked eight or ten. Silver hair being dragged as an elderly woman was holding her legs. The assailants were too absorbed with trying to keep back the wider family before they noticed Garlan and Tomas.
Garlan saw eight men, all draped in dark cloaks. Daggers in hand, barring one man who held a short sword as he was the one grabbing the girl. The eight men were holding back the large group of older women who were in the small house. One of them turned and met Garlan's gaze. He saw the fear creeping into their eyes.
"FUCK OFF, THIS AIN'T YA BUSINESS."
The short sword man screamed. Tomas didn't even care to speak; he just ran. Garlan smiled. He fell into a run as well. Garlan unsheathed his sword as now all eight men were coming to meet their charge. Before the first cloaked man could react, Tomas's razor found true, slashing the eyeball off. Garlan saw the blood spray as the man limped to the floor. Another cloaked figure tried to run Tomas through. Garlan saw to his demise with a single swipe, lopping the man's head off.
The family now all fought to help them, tackling the others before being daggered. More women came out of the house, all letting out feral war cries.
Garlan took on two cloaked men, his movements ducking and swerving as each thrust of their daggers tried to rip open his heart. In the corner of his eye, Tomas was hacking wildly with his razor. His brother was also good at dodging these pitiful displays of martial ability. Garlan stepped a pace back before finding a mark, lodging his sword into the soft belly of the attacker, ripping it open as he kicked the legs under another. Tomas was upon the fallen foe, slashing open the throat. The attackers were now down to the one short sword man. All others were killed or either indisposed by the family.
He was holding the silver-haired girl in place with the sword. Garlan felt his rage simmering. He saw Tomas shifting to strike.
"Get back, ye fucks. BACK, I SAY, OR I'LL CUT HER."
Garlan bit down on his teeth hard as he stepped back. Tomas still staying in the same place.
"R YA DEAF? DO YA WANT HER TO DIE?"
Garlan saw his brother smile. Garlan turned to see what he was smiling at, and behind the short sword man was the little boy, his hand wielding a fallen dagger. His footsteps silent as he stuck the man in the thigh from behind.
The man let out a shriek as he unhanded her. Tomas ran before anyone could register what even happened. The razor tore another neck. Blood gushed forth, hands grasping to heal a mortal wound. Tomas turned from the dying man to remove his cloak and give it to the silver-haired girl.
Wait. Silver hair? Purple eyes?
The girl was latching onto Tomas, weeping and in shock.
Garlan tried to register as he got a closer look. By the gods, she had all the marks of a Valyrian, and yet he never saw his brother look at another woman with so much care as he did now.
Please, brother, do not do something stupid, Garlan thought.
Tomas looked back at Garlan with those eyes, those blasted eyes. Tomas widened his eyes like a hound whenever he was going to do something utterly stupid and reckless.