The sun had barely risen over the Arbor when the news of Randyll Tarly's betrayal swept through Paxter's halls like wildfire. The Lannisters, always waiting in the shadows, had finally made their move. With Tarly now openly aligned with King's Landing, the Reach was no longer a region simply torn by internal conflict; it had become a battleground in the larger war for the Iron Throne.
Paxter Redwyne stood at the head of the long table in the Arbor's council chamber, his gaze steady, though inside he felt the weight of the coming conflict. Mina sat beside him, her face as composed as always, though Paxter knew she shared his unease. Across from them, Ser Martyn and Alistair waited, both men tense as they listened to the latest reports from the messengers who had just returned from King's Landing.
"The Lannisters have promised Tarly significant backing," Alistair said, his voice low but firm. "Gold, troops, supplies—they're offering him whatever he needs to take on Highgarden. With Tarly's forces and the Lannister coffers, it's possible they could outlast the Tyrells in a prolonged siege."
Paxter frowned, leaning on the edge of the table, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Tarly's a fool if he thinks he can hold the Reach with Lannister support alone. He knows his own forces are formidable, but the Tyrells still control the breadbasket of Westeros. If it comes to it, they can starve him out."
Mina nodded. "Perhaps, but Olenna's position is not as secure as it once was. Tarly's betrayal will encourage other lesser houses to rethink their loyalties. If they see Tarly as a viable alternative, the Tyrells could lose more than just a few banners."
Paxter understood the danger. House Redwyne's loyalty had always been bound to the Tyrells, but Randyll Tarly's open defiance would send shockwaves through the Reach. Smaller houses, uncertain of where to place their loyalties, could be tempted by Tarly's new alliance with the Lannisters. And if enough houses turned against Highgarden, the entire region would descend into chaos.
"We'll have to move carefully," Paxter said, his voice calm but commanding. "Olenna will expect us to support her fully in this fight. But we can't afford to throw everything we have into a battle that may not be ours to win."
Ser Martyn, ever the soldier, leaned forward. "We should prepare the fleet, my lord. If Tarly makes a move on Highgarden, there's no telling how far this war will spread. We need to secure our coastlines and ensure our trade routes remain open."
Paxter nodded, appreciating Ser Martyn's practicality. "Agreed. The fleet must be ready to move at a moment's notice. We'll also need to bolster our defenses here on the Arbor. If Tarly thinks he can take Bitterbridge, there's nothing stopping him from trying to cut us off from the mainland."
Mina's voice cut through the room, steady and measured. "There's another matter to consider, Paxter. If the Lannisters are backing Tarly, they may be looking to secure more than just the Reach. The Lannisters are always playing a larger game. We need to be prepared for the possibility that this is part of a broader strategy."
Paxter's eyes narrowed. "You think they'll come for us directly?"
"It's possible," Mina said. "The Arbor is one of the wealthiest regions in Westeros. If the Lannisters could somehow wrest control of it, they would control a key trade hub and the most coveted wine in the Seven Kingdoms. They wouldn't need to conquer the Reach outright—they could starve Highgarden of its wealth and slowly bleed Olenna's power dry."
Paxter's jaw clenched. The Lannisters' greed knew no bounds, and the thought of them setting their sights on the Arbor was enough to send a surge of anger through him. He wouldn't allow it. House Redwyne had survived for centuries by playing the game of trade, wealth, and power. He wasn't about to let his house be reduced to a pawn in the Lannisters' war.
"We'll prepare for that possibility," Paxter said, his voice resolute. "Strengthen our defenses, and make sure our trade partners in Essos understand that we're still in control. If the Lannisters want to challenge us, they'll find that the Arbor isn't so easily taken."
Ser Martyn bowed and left the room, ready to begin organizing the fleet and the defenses. Alistair remained, his face troubled. "My lord," he began cautiously, "there's another matter we need to address. Our finances."
Paxter gestured for him to continue, though his stomach tightened. He knew what Alistair was about to say.
"The war is draining our resources," Alistair said bluntly. "The cost of maintaining the fleet, supporting the Tyrells, and keeping our trade routes open—it's all adding up. We've done well with the spice trade from Volantis and the new Arbor Reserve, but if this war drags on… we may find ourselves stretched thin."
Paxter's eyes hardened. "Then we need more revenue streams. The North, Essos, Braavos—we need to expand our reach. If we can't rely on our usual markets, we'll find new ones. What about the Arbor Reserve?"
Mina chimed in. "We've had some initial interest from the North, and Braavos is looking promising. But it will take time to solidify those trade routes. We can send additional emissaries to the Free Cities, but we'll need to offer something more to entice them."
Paxter stood, pacing across the room as he considered the options. The Arbor had always been a house of merchants and traders, and their strength lay in their ability to adapt. But adapting to war was something different altogether. War wasn't just a drain on gold and resources—it was a constant threat to the stability he had worked so hard to maintain.
"Send word to Volantis and Braavos," Paxter said finally, his voice firm. "Let them know we're prepared to offer exclusive trade deals, including our new wines. Make it clear that House Redwyne is still a power in Westeros, no matter how the war plays out."
Alistair bowed, relieved to have direction. "I'll see to it immediately, my lord."
As the steward left the room, Paxter turned to Mina, his expression serious. "We're playing a dangerous game, Mina. If we're not careful, we could end up being pulled under by the very forces we've worked so hard to manipulate."
Mina's eyes softened, but her voice remained steady. "We've always played the game, Paxter. The difference now is that the stakes are higher. But we have the means to survive this. The alliances you've built, the wealth you've secured—it's all part of the same plan. As long as we keep our wits about us, we'll come out of this stronger."
Paxter nodded, though a part of him knew that no one could predict the outcome of a war. Plans could change in an instant, and even the most carefully laid strategies could unravel with a single misstep. But he couldn't afford to show doubt—not to his allies, not to his enemies, and certainly not to his own house.
As night fell over the Arbor, Paxter found himself standing alone on the balcony of the keep, looking out over the darkened vineyards that stretched toward the sea. The stars glittered above, indifferent to the struggles of men below, and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a strange sense of calm amidst the chaos.
Mina joined him after a time, her presence quiet but comforting.
"The fleet is ready," she said softly. "The men are prepared for whatever comes next."
Paxter nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. "The Lannisters have made their move, and Tarly has thrown his lot in with them. Olenna will demand our full support, and soon we'll be dragged into a war that could tear the Reach apart."
Mina stepped closer, her eyes meeting his. "You've built something strong here, Paxter. House Redwyne has weathered storms before, and we'll weather this one, too. But we can't fight this war alone. We'll need to choose our allies carefully."
Paxter's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, where the sea met the sky in an endless expanse of darkness. "We'll choose our allies, but we'll also choose our battles. The Lannisters, Tarly, Olenna—they all want something from us. But House Redwyne will decide its own future."
Mina's voice was soft but firm. "And when the storm passes?"
Paxter's lips curled into a faint smile, though it was tinged with the weight of responsibility. "When the storm passes, we'll still be here. Stronger, wealthier, and with control over the most valuable resources in Westeros. And those who tried to use us… will find that House Redwyne is not so easily controlled."
As the night deepened and the winds of war gathered strength, Paxter Redwyne knew that the days ahead would test him in ways he had never imagined. But he also knew that, no matter the outcome, he would fight for his house, his people, and his legacy.
The game of thrones was far from over, and Paxter Redwyne was determined to play it on his own terms.