Rhaenar left the maze with her chin up, but her heart heavy; her indigo eyes sweeping the turrets of white and gold. A new Lord ruled House Tyrell, one that would never forget the brutality it faced. She felt like a failure, a failure because she couldn't save the person who had pledged themself to her.
The morning had long since broken, and she had overseen Olenna being taken to the Sept where in time she would be laid to rest; she'd find peace with Margaery and Loras; that Rhaenar was certain of. The indigo swept the field, seeing the remaining Lannister forces rounded up. They still had a substantial number, but there was no where near the number the Lannisters did have - some of the Red Cloaks remained in the Capital.
Her eyes found Aegon, his presence lingering beside Tywin and Torgo as they looked over the men, the leaders rounded to the side. Aegon nodded to her, Rhaenar nodding back as she made her way forward. To the left of them stood Tyrion, his emerald greens drifting over the field as he took in the faces; Tywin doing the same. Leirion screeched, crawling his way to the hill as he looked over them all, Rhaenys just beside them. She couldn't see the face of Jaime, Tywin's prized son; Tyrion's eyes met hers, where was he? They both thought.
Rhaenar walked to him, their heads angled to one another as they faced opposite directions. "Where is your brother?"
"I don't know, I can't see him amongst the crowds." Her jaw tightened, her head nodding. "Lady Olenna?"
She shook her head. "Dead, murdered by your brother." He glanced away, shaking his head. "What do I do with these men, Tyrion? We both know they all won't pledge fealty."
"We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it; for now inspire them, show them that you're not what Cersei says you are." That was easier said than done, Rhae thought as she nodded, turning. Tyrion reached out, quickly grasping her hand. "I'm sorry I lost you Olenna."
His emerald eyes shined up at her, sincerity in the hue. "I know, I'm sorry I've been so harsh. Meereen seems like a lifetime ago."
Tyrion smiled. "It was." With a shared look, she took her place in front of the men, not on the hill like what was expected of her, but the ground. She wasn't in a position above them, Rhaenar would appeal to them. She gazed out, the indigo looking into eyes of fear, anger, confusion... Rhaenar knew better than to expect love and devotion, these people didn't know her - not yet at least.
They towered over her, their faces smudged in black ash as neervous eyes jumped from the dragon to Rhaenar. "I know you don't know me but by my name, and I don't know you but by your armour." She began. "But, we can learn about one another." She grew nervous, her hand tensing. "I am Rhaenar Blackfyre of House Targaryen, the bastard daughter of the Mad King." There, it was out in the open. "Cersei has told you that I wish to destroy your life here, murder your families, and burn your cities to the ground - that's not why I'm here." She explained.
Rhaenar could see the uneasiness. "I'm not that person. That person sits in the Red Keep, on the Iron Throne. She burnt the children of House Tyrell, she blew the Sept of Baelor to pieces because it threatened her." The very reasons Cersei had given to turn Westeros against Rhaenar, were the same actions she had taken herself. "I wish to make the world better, giving opportunities and life to those that have forever been put down by Lords and Ladies."
She looked into the sets of eyes before her, sincerity taking her. "I wish to give you a choice, if you choose to accept or not - it is by your own free will." Rhaenar needed to be kind, offer them something to change their opinion. It was just like those in Slaver's Bay, they were given the option of taking their freedom, of discarding their chains in favour of a better life. Rhaenar didn't crucify the Masters, nor did she alienate those who wished to remain in the jobs they had because they loved the life they lived before she came along - she only made it fair and equal. "Those in the Lannister army," She addressed, turning to face them. "The man you see beside me is Tywin Lannister, perhaps you recognise him?"
Looks of shock crossed their faces, surprise lingering in the hues as they faced the older man who had stepped forward. Some of them recognised him, others turning to their comrades to confirm. Rhaenar rose her hand, silencing the chatter. "He has chosen to fight for me, and by doing such, it will give you a choice on whose side you wish to take." Heads flickered. "If you choose to fight for Cersei Lannister, I won't stop you, but we will be facing each other again on the field. You will be escorted to King's Landing, and you will live with your choice..."
Now it was time to sweeten the deal. "But, if you choose to fight for me, you will be trained once more beneath Tywin Lannister and you will be allowed home. We know the wars are long, and some of you have gone from war to war these past few years. You may have family you wish to see; and we will allow this." Tyrion's head whipped over, surprise in his eyes. "In doing so, you may have to fight against your brothers, men you've trained with. This won't be an easy decision for you, and it should not be taken lightly."
"Why would any of us want to fight for a Queen that doesn't care for us?" One of the soldiers uttered, turning to his brothers as his thick accent cut across the field. "What has Cersei Lannister ever done for us?"
He was met with grumbles; some in agreement, others not so much. "She's still our Queen." One of the others raised.
Rhaenar stepped forward. "Perhaps you wish to discuss this amongst yourselves?"
The first soldier turned, shaking his head as he whipped off his helmet, curls of gold slipping out. "No, I've made my choice. I'll fight for you, if you'll have me." Rhaenar's chest swelled, a sweet smile crossing her lips as she nodded eagerly. "My Queen." He gestured, bowing his head. He moved out from the ranks, making his way over to Tywin. "It's good to see you again, Uncle."
Tywin nodded, his lips curling slightly. "Get to the left, Martyn." Martyn grinned cheekily before making his way over, standing with his head held high. So he was a cousin of Cersei? Rhae thought, brow raised as she turned to the others. It took a moment, but one dropped to his knee, followed by others.
Rhaenar knew some would remain standing, their choices made. "I respect your decision, you will be escorted by the Golden Company to King's Landing; you may leave." It left Rhaenar with a larger army than she had before, her eyes drifting to meet Tywin's as he nodded. "The rest will remain with us, you will return to Casterly Rock, and you will be given time with your family. When the time is right, we will ask for your return."
Tywin stepped forward. "Move!" He called out to the soldiers, watching as they scrambled into two divisions; the Cersei loyalists, and the new ranks of Red Cloaks.
Behind the cleared space of the Lannister army, the Tarlys had been waiting with wide eyes as they watched her. "You may come forward." She urged gently, offering them the space where the Red Cloaks once stood. They shuffled, boots heavy as they approached. Much like the Lannisters, their faces had been smudged in ash, mud and soot coating their armour as they faced her. The indigo ran across their faces, trying to decipher who the Lords were. "My Lords? Please step forward."
Two bodies stood from the crowd; an older man with a bald head and a hard face; and what must have been his son, who was taller, younger, and mousy haired. "Randyll Tarly?" Rhaenar question, the older man nodding. "And your son?"
"Dickon Tarly." He offered, eyes flickering away.
Rhaenar nodded, keeping a soft look to her. "Would you oppose me, if I ask the same of your army?"
"You're not my Queen." Randyll uttered, looking her dead in the eye; this was going to be a difficult situation.
"My sister. She wasn't your Queen until recently, though, was she? When she murdered your rightful Queen, and destroyed the youngest children of House Tyrell. So, it appears your allegiances are somewhat flexible." Tyrion explained, looking at the older Lord.
"There are no easy choices in war. Say what you will about your sister, she was born in Westeros. She's lived here all her life. You, on the other hand, murdered your own nephew, and chose to support a foreign invader, one with no ties to this land, an army of savages at her back." Randyll spat.
Rhaenar glanced down, her indigo eyes looking onto the grass for a moment. She felt bruised, the words harsh as she glanced back up at him. "Forgive me, my Lord; but I was born here, I would have grown up here if my family wasn't forced into exile. Westeros runs through my veins, it's always been in my heart. So calling me a foreign Queen, is nothing but an insult." She was proud of the customs she had learnt in the free cities, how expanded her views on life were but at the very heart of her being, she was a Westerosi. It seemed no matter where she was, she could never fit in.
"As for my army of savages, I believe if you came to know them, you would realise they are more than that. The Unsullied have some of the kindest hearts I have ever had the privilege to see, and the Dothraki? Are some of the smartest men you could meet, maybe not in numbers or literature, but they know horses better than any man alive. My army understands family, they understand working as one. So calling savages, is yet another insult." She quipped, the fire pounding in her veins. Spit insults about her, she didn't care; but referring to the men who fight for her, give their lives and hearts to her, was a step too far.
The indigo hardened, her jaw tightening. "I will be giving your army a choice, regardless of if you wish or not. But for you, you will face a different fate."
Tyrion stepped forward, eyes widening as he faced her. "Perhaps he could take the black, Your Grace. Whatever else he is, he is a true soldier. He'd be invaluable at the Wall." That was a good option.
"You cannot send me to the Wall. You are not my Queen."
She nodded, he was right. "Perhaps I may not be your Queen for now, but eventually I might be." Rhaenar hated the idea of chains, but knew she had no other choice. "I will take you as my prisoner, until you either accept me as your ruler, or I become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." It felt harsh, but she knew it was better than killing him.
She nodded to Harry; he, Malthar, and Sebastion moving forward to grasp Randyll. "You will have to imprison me too." His son uttered, standing closer to his father. Tension began to bubble in the air, all eyes flickering to her, to her reaction.
Tyrion frowned, stepping closer. "You are the future of your House, we've already seen young lives wasted; don't be foolish, bend the knee." She could see Dickon turn, his eyes meeting his father's, who nodded at him; agreeing with Tyrion. That was brave, the love a man had for his son, he wanted to keep him safe.
"I will not." Tyrion looked to her, imploring her to give him a better option than eventually sending him to Castle Black.
Rhaenar shook her head at Dickon, the indigo flitting to Randyll before back to his son. If Rhaenar ever had children, she hoped the same mercy would have been shown to them. "I'm afraid I will not be taking you as prisoner, Dickon. I'm sure that with your father gone, your home and your land will be looking for strength in such a time." She began. "You have family, no?" He nodded. "Then I urge you to think about them in this time, could your mother bear to lose her husband and son in the same day?"
"She has my sister." He tried to argue.
Rhaenar nodded. "Who I'm sure is strong; but the love a mother has for her son, is different to the love she has for a daughter. She'll be needing you to take your place as Lord, and to fulfil your fathers duties. I urge you, return home."
Dickon's eyes flickered back to Randyll's, watching as his shoulders slumped. Leirion cried out from behind her, shaking his shoulders as he looked over. Cries of fear echoed from behind, but Rhaenar paid them no attention. "Your choice, my Lord?"
"I will return home to my family." Admiration filled her, it took a strong man to accept such an offer; most would let their pride cloud their judgement.
"Good lad." Tyrion called out, Randyll agreeing.
Now it was time to deal with the Tarly army. "Your choice is different than the Red Cloaks, and very much similar to Dickon's. You may decide if you choose to follow the Tyrells into battle if they call for you to, but - you may ignore it if you wish. This you will forever have to live with the decision you made; the months to come will be hard, and not without their challenges. We're going to need men like you to lead the way in choosing to fight for someone you believe in because that is the choice we all have to make - if what we're giving our lives for, is the right cause." She explained. "I hope you see the mercy that I have shown you today, and believe that I will be a better Queen for you."
Rhaenar swallowed as she looked over all of them. "Go, think on your decision, and when you're called upon, if you believe we can change the world, then we know, we are fighting the right fight, for the first time in a long time."
She turned, her eyes capturing Tyrion's who nodded to her, making his way over. "You listened to me, that was the best choice in a situation like this."
Rhae let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding. "Like you said, I didn't come here to be Queen of the Ashes." She had done the right thing, she thought; the tension diffusing from her shoulders as she glanced back over the field behind her. These men would eventually pledge themselves back into the Tyrells favour; she could only hope that they would one day take her side.