The Prince of Thorns

🌹The Last Tyrell🌹

HIGHGARDEN

The air was thick with tension as Alester Tyrell and his army marched towards the gates of Highgarden. The sun cast long shadows over the lush fields that once surrounded the grand fortress, now tainted by the grim news that preceded their arrival.

As they drew closer, Alester's heart sank at the sight that greeted him. The gates, once adorned with the proud banners of House Tyrell, now lay broken and smoldering. The walls of Highgarden bore the scars of battle, their once vibrant hues dulled by the smoke of destruction. The city's silence spoke volumes, a haunting testament to the chaos that had unfolded.

Rushing past the breached walls, Alester's eyes darted across the devastated landscape, his heart racing with dread. His worst fears were confirmed as he saw the lifeless bodies of his men strewn across the grounds, a grim testament to the fierce struggle that had taken place.

Pushing through the debris, he made his way towards the heart of the castle. As he entered the halls once filled with laughter and warmth, he was met with a chilling silence. The grandeur of Highgarden was marred by destruction—furniture overturned, tapestries torn, and remnants of a battle that had swept through like a merciless storm.

With a heavy heart, Alester ascended the stairs to his grandmother's chambers. The door creaked open, revealing the devastation within. The room, once a sanctuary of wisdom and strength, now lay in ruins from looting. And there, lying still upon a chair, was Lady Olenna Tyrell—his grandmother—her piercing gaze now forever closed.

Alester's breath caught in his throat as he rushed to her side, his heart heavy with sorrow. He knelt beside her, his hand trembling as he gently closed her eyes, bidding farewell to the matriarch whose wisdom had shaped his life.

The weight of loss and rage bore down upon him, a tempest of emotions swirling within. Olenna Tyrell, the indomitable figure who had faced adversaries with wit and courage, now lay silent, a victim of the brutal conflict that had engulfed Highgarden.

As grief threatened to overwhelm him, he clenched his fists, his resolve hardening with every passing moment. The Lannister army may have claimed Highgarden, but they would not escape unchallenged. With Olenna's memory as his guiding beacon, Alester vowed to avenge her and reclaim the honor of House Tyrell.

With a heavy heart and a determined spirit, the last Tyrell emerged from the shattered chambers of his grandmother, his eyes ablaze with resolve. He strode out into the desolate courtyard of Highgarden, where the remnants of his forces gathered, their faces mirroring his anguish and determination.

Lord Tarly, his stalwart ally, approached him, his expression a mix of concern and loyalty. The Tarly's voice broke the heavy silence that hung in the air.

LORD TARLY: My Lord, we stand with you in this dark hour.

Alester turned to face Lord Tarly, gratitude mingled with determination etched on his face.

ALESTER: We must act swiftly. The Lannisters will not go unpunished for this atrocity. Highgarden will be restored.

Lord Tarly nodded, his gaze steady.

LORD TARLY: Indeed, my Lord. What is our next move?

ALESTER: We gather what strength we have and march. The Lannisters may have taken Highgarden, but they won't escape our wrath. I'll lead our forces to King's Landing. House Tyrell's honor will be reclaimed.

Lord Tarly's loyalty was unwavering.

LORD TARLY: As you command, my Lord. House Tarly stands with House Tyrell.