Highgarden stood at the meeting point of the River Road, The Roseroad, and the Mander.
Whether one traveled to King's Landing, to the Riverlands, or overland toward the Ocean Road, there was no avoiding Highgarden, the key junction of two roads and a river.
Both House Gardener and House Tyrell loved art, music, and culture, and the castle was beautiful, steeped in refinement.
Inside Highgarden's hall, all was splendor.
Music filled the air, played by the finest singers and musicians.
"What a prosperous green land," Sansa Stark thought, dressed in a gray-white gown, her eyes opened wide as she tried to take everything in.
Although House Stark of Winterfell was noble in standing, singers and bards might not appear there for a year or more. The North was still comparatively poor in material comforts.
Once, because a bard had left and never returned, Sansa had even cried over the song she never got to hear to the end.
Daenerys was far more at ease. She had wandered through many of the Free Cities and had seen much of the world, far more than Sansa or Margaery.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Cup after cup of golden wine and Dornish summer red stirred the guests' spirits.
All kinds of delicacies were carried into the hall one after another. Bison legs, venison pies, honey-roasted chickens, peppered wild boar, roasted lamb chops, roast goose, skewers of chicken and pigeon, and barley-stewed beef.
There were even Dornish-style roasted starfish and snake soup, simmered over a low fire with seven kinds of snake meat, fire-dragon peppers, blood oranges, and a little snake venom.
Fine seafood was spread everywhere as well: white salmon and snails, crabs and shellfish, clams, herring, cod, salmon, lobster, and lampreys.
Alongside them were mountains of turnips, sweet corn, peas, apples, and pears.
"Long live the Storm!"
"Long live the Storm!"
"The golden rose grows ever strong!"
"The golden rose grows ever strong!"
People pressed shoulder to shoulder, celebrating both victory in war and the marriage alliance between Rose Tyrell and Longspear Martell.
Seated upon the high dais were the most distinguished figures of all, the king and queen.
"Ever growing. If nothing else, the roses truly are united." Gendry looked at the Tyrell kin seated together. The roses were also a great house with countless branches, close kin and distant relatives alike.
At the very least, the roses worked together, while the three stag brothers had each run in a different direction.
"Now all that remains is choosing a good day. I can hardly wait."
"The septons are ready, and Arianne can hardly wait either."
On the dais, the Queen of Thorns and the Red Viper were both smiling warmly. Anyone who did not know better might truly think the two were close beyond measure.
Lady Alerie, the tall, dignified wife of Great Lord Tyrell, had jeweled rings bound into her long silver braid.
Lady Alerie looked somewhat awkward. Grandsons and granddaughters with a Dornish flavor might soon arrive.
"These are all my relatives and companions." Margaery introduced the others to Daenerys and Sansa. Little Rose's three cousins, who were also her ladies-in-waiting, Megga, Alla, and Elinor, were all about Sansa's age, roses from the lower branches, distant Tyrell kin.
Another companion, Lady Bulwer, was still only an eight-year-old girl.
Meredyth Crane was always smiling.
"Your Grace, Lady Sansa, we are roses from the lower branches," Elinor said with a double meaning. She was quick-witted and slender.
Megga was plump and loud. Alla was pretty and shy.
Lady Mina was Paxter Redwyne's wife. Plump Lady Janna was Great Lord Tyrell's sister, married into House Fossoway of New Barrel.
Lady Leonette, with her lovely face and bright eyes, was also of House Fossoway, and had married Ser Garlan.
"No, there are more than just these," Gendry thought. There were also Mace's uncles.
Gormon was a Maester at the Citadel, Garth was the steward of Highgarden, and Moryn, who had died in battle, had been commander of the Oldtown garrison.
Whatever their talents, House Tyrell arranged its family members very well.
Not only in Highgarden, but in Oldtown too, the roses had put down roots. It was a thriving sight.
"Whether a house has many children or few, unity is what matters." Gendry looked at the roses in full bloom.
No one cared about the head of the house, Great Lord Mace Tyrell, anymore. His mother, Lady Olenna, made the decisions, and the Tyrell web of marriage alliances had always been driven by the Queen of Thorns.
As for Prince Doran Martell, far away in Dorne, everyone knew that after gout had left him half-crippled, Dornish affairs were usually handled by the Red Viper on his brother's behalf. The Red Viper represented his brother's will.
For once, Dornishmen and knights of The Reach did not start a fight at a feast. Under normal circumstances, a gathering like this would have at least cost someone their life.
In marriages between noble lords, the first matter was equality of rank, and only after that came whether the pair suited each other.
Age, height, appearance, and ability had to be roughly matched.
The heir to Highgarden and the eldest daughter of the Prince of Dorne were well matched in status. In a way, both were oddities within the noble circle.
One was a cripple who could never become a knight, and the other was passionate by nature and somewhat short.
It was a little like Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully back then. At least both had belonged to the great noble circle and each took what they needed. Lysa had even gained the better bargain.
Gendry remembered Lysa Tully's wailing at the Eyrie. The marriages of lordly children were rarely free.
"My father said I should thank the heavens that a great lord as famous as Jon Arryn was willing to marry a woman who had already been deflowered, but in truth, what he wanted was my father's army. I had to marry Jon, or my father would have shut me out as he did his own brother Brynden."
Even among nobles, there were ranks.
First came the Dragonlords, then royal houses that had been kings for generations, then the Great Lords of each realm.
House Stark had been kings for generations, as had House Arryn and House Lannister. Even House Baratheon and House Martell were ancient royal lines if traced through the maternal side.
There was also the very ancient House Hightower, the "Kings of the High Tower."
Only after them came the powerful secondary lords and ancient houses, many of whom had once styled themselves kings.
House Bolton, the "Red Kings"; House Royce, the "Bronze Kings"; House Dayne, the "Kings of the Torrentine"; House Yronwood, the "Lords of the Stone Way"; House Fowler, the "Kings of the Cliffs and the Sky," and so on.
Garth, the broad and stout steward of Highgarden, gave the order. "On this glorious night, let our king, Your Grace Gendry, offer his blessing to the marriage of the rose and the longspear."
The hall fell silent.
All eyes fixed on Gendry, dazzling and unmatched.
The women's gazes burned like fire, Sansa's and Margaery's among them. Unfortunately, both had heard that the king was not as unrestrained as the late king.
"In the name of the king, I thank the Old Gods and the New for the victories at the Battle of the Blackwater and the Battle of Oldtown, and for this fine marriage. May this good fortune endure without end!"
Gendry raised the king's golden cup, and then every guest, every rider, and every squire raised theirs.
A thousand cups struck together, and a thousand voices shouted.
"May this good fortune endure without end!"
"Without end!"
Silver rose cups, white waxed wine cups, clay cups, and iron-rimmed horn cups all clattered against one another.
"My lords, since I set out on this campaign, I have crushed the Ironborn and destroyed the rebel Euron Greyjoy. It grieves me that we lost two venerable elders, the Fletcher and Jason Melisent, but still, we achieved a great victory." Gendry raised his hand, and every voice fell silent.
"As for the war against the lions, I hope it will be my last war for the throne in the lands of summer. We should be facing more terrible enemies, the Long Winter and the foes beyond the Wall.
"I hope all of you can gather your strength and stand as one. Just as the rose and the longspear are joined in marriage, peace, peace is greater than all things. Under the Long Winter, I do not like anyone dragging us down..."
Originally, many lords had not believed in these strange things from old tales and new horrors. But after seeing the Kraken's corpse, the Sphinxes, and the stone beast, they had no choice but to acknowledge that the age was changing.
A new era. A magical world.
"Peace."
"Peace."
The lords had already begun considering the king's deeper meaning. In the Long Winter and the approaching Long Night, the king did not want the lords to quarrel again.
Everyone must turn north together.
At the end, the singers joined together in a song praising Gendry, as if they were about to see Tywin the lion's head at any moment.
"We are the guard, blown by the wind to Casterly Rock. We will kill old Tywin, then burn the lion's den..."
By the end, nearly everyone in the hall was singing along with the singers, their voices shaking the roof until it rustled.
...
Beneath a clear blue sky, Gendry lingered for several days amid the splendor and beauty of Highgarden while hastening the army's preparations.
Daenerys, meanwhile, was led by Margaery through the gardens and flowered walks, the intent to please her plain to see.
Within the walls, Highgarden was like a green paradise. Flowers bloomed everywhere, and the whole castle was adorned with gardens, pools, and artificial waterfalls.
"Nothing of real value." Gendry searched through Highgarden again and again, even checking every corner.
It seemed there truly was nothing interesting there. What Gendry wanted most was something like the legendary "Green Hand" runes, but unfortunately, he found no clues.
The Queen of Thorns had also generously allowed the king into the Tyrell family's inner treasury.
But Gendry discovered that the Tyrell treasury had nowhere near the depth of Hightower's vaults. After all, Hightower had been rich for far too many years as the foremost city.
"The sins of the Dornish."
Gendry also felt that Highgarden's relative poverty could be credited in part to the Dornish. During the reign of Garth X, a certain Dornish king had led his army across the Mander and taken Highgarden.
The Dornish chopped the Oakenseat, which had witnessed countless Kings of The Reach, into pieces and burned it, plundered all the wealth, and then burned Highgarden flat.
That blow had badly weakened Highgarden. Even if any treasures had once existed, they had likely been lost long ago. Highgarden, after all, was not as hard and stubborn as Storm's End.
How strange the world was. Now the Dornish were seeking a marriage alliance with the rulers of Highgarden.
From one of Highgarden's towers, Gendry could see every manor and field for several leagues around. The countryside was covered with flowers and golden roses.
"This is the oldest tower, isn't it?" Gendry asked Garlan.
"Yes, Your Grace." Garlan nodded. "Most of Highgarden's buildings were raised during the reign of King Mern Gardener VI, 'the Successor.' Only the tallest towers at the center are older."
"That burning of Highgarden had nothing to do with our House Martell," the Red Viper joked. "You should probably look for the Gate or the Falcon."
The Red Viper was referring to two powerful Dornish lords, House Yronwood, the "Lords of the Stone Way," and House Fowler, the "Kings of the Cliffs and the Sky."
House Martell could be considered upstarts as well. A thousand years ago, they had attached themselves to Queen Nymeria of the Rhoynar. Originally, the Lords of the Stone Way had been the ones most likely to unify Dorne.
"I had originally planned to go north along The Roseroad and reinforce the armies of House Stark and House Tully, but now I have a new plan," Gendry said.
"But to reach the Riverlands, you still have to take The Roseroad," Mychel Redfort said.
"Your Grace means to send a surprise force over the hills north of Goldengrove?" Ser Barristan understood.
"Exactly." Gendry nodded. "Originally, it was a three-pronged advance, but the force I lead is made entirely of elites. Going through the Golden Tooth to link up would take too much time. Better to go straight north through Highgarden and Goldengrove."
"But the region around Silverhill is all mountains and hills," Randyll Tarly warned. "An advance that way will be difficult going."
"It is risky, but not impossible. We have Dragons, so we can sense danger in advance.
"Speed is the soul of war. Silverhill will not have time to react. Once we take Silverhill, we cut the Goldroad in two."
"There is another point. Tywin has lost too many men. He simply cannot cover every front anymore."
"I am willing to be Your Grace's left arm and draw the lions' attention from the Ocean Road," Garlan Tyrell requested.
"Whether left arm or right arm, I look forward to meeting you beneath the castle walls, Ser Garlan."
A defeated general had no bravery worth speaking of.
Tywin could not replenish the vast number of elite soldiers he had lost overnight. So while he guarded the left and right flanks, Gendry chose to punch straight through the center.
...
The Lannister southern frontier, Silverhill.
A river near Silverhill flowed south past Goldengrove and into the Mander.
But as its name suggested, the castle stood upon a hill. It was the stronghold of House Serrett.
The night was black as ink, but Ser Gerold Serrett could not sleep.
The lion's position had retreated again and again, while the applause of victory rose for the stag. The next to suffer would probably be the lions.
House Serrett had been watching the south closely. He had only heard from the farmers of Goldengrove that the king was fighting the Ironborn in The Reach, and he had no idea when the king would strike.
"He will probably still come along the Ocean Road. Great Lord Tywin has already laid heavy defenses there." Ser Gerold thought it over, but he was still afraid House Rowan might suddenly go mad.
Even though many sentries had been placed along the south, it probably would not be enough.
The lions' strength was stretched too thin. They simply did not have many soldiers to spare. Although a camp had been transferred over, there still were not enough men.
North of Highgarden, great stretches of fertile land belonged to House Rowan, the kings of northern The Reach, feeding a large number of soldiers.
House Rowan's strength was not something House Serrett could match.
"Young lord!" A household guard of House Serrett suddenly rushed up from below the tower, panting hard.
"What is it?" Ser Gerold asked at once.
"Soldiers. The enemy is here! And the river, the river is full of longships. Soldiers everywhere are already moving!"
"What!"
Ser Gerold collapsed onto the bed.
Not caring that his clothes were in disarray, he rushed out of the tower in a panic.
After climbing the watchtower, he saw flames blazing below Silverhill.
On the river were longships sailing upstream, led by Lord Patrek of Seagard.
On the ridges, climbers carrying torches were scaling the heights, led by Lord Jason and Timett.
They had all been chosen from the Vale and Crackclaw Point, hardy men skilled at climbing.
"Why don't we surrender?" the captain of the guards asked. "Lord Tywin's defeat is certain, and he has no strength to help us. We already lost enough men when we followed him last time."
"No. My father is still in Casterly Rock..." Gerold first shook his head. "And there is also that small squad of reinforcements from Great Lord Tywin."
"Dragon! A Dragon is coming!"
A Dragon's roar suddenly came from the sky, shaking the fields in wave after wave.
The soldiers of House Serrett went pale. This was not how war was supposed to be played.
Dragon shadows appeared in the sky. All they could see were winged Dragons, their furious roars shaking heaven and earth.
If the Dragons had appeared, that meant the king had come as well.
"Boom!"
Balerion breathed Dragonfire, black-red flames dancing in fury. Then came the flames of the white dragon and the green dragon.
The gates of House Serrett's castle were bombarded by fire, and the oak and steel doors began to melt.
"Surrender and you live!"
"Surrender and you live!"
Endless shouts came from the silent wilds. For a moment, it was impossible to tell how many men had come.
"We surrender! We surrender!"
The old, weak, sick, and wounded men of Silverhill collapsed in a single blow. The moment they saw the king's Dragons, they chose to break apart.
"Protect the young lord, and seize the Lannister reinforcements," the guards of House Serrett acted on their own.
"You. You are rebelling!" Ser Gerold cursed.
"We are not betraying you. We have no need to follow the lions to death and die in a Dragon's jaws."
"But my father is still a hostage."
"Everyone has their own fate, young lord."
"Pebble runes, sun-piercing spear, and golden stag. No..."
Ser Gerold went limp on the ground and was dragged out by the guards to surrender. The heights were dangerous. It was all too easy to be burned to death by Dragons.
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