Capítulo 206: Chapter 207: Return
The sky was a seamless expanse of deep blue, as smooth as fine silk, with the soft autumn sun casting its warmth across the fields. Pale yellow petals danced in the gentle breeze. Margaery Tyrell, her hand entwined with Samwell's, strolled through the forest, her face radiant with happiness, with a faint flush still lingering in her cheeks.
Her fitted green hunting attire highlighted her graceful curves, while her flowing brown hair brushed against Samwell's nose, carrying a fresh, delicate fragrance that stirred his heart.
"You mean you've never hunted here?" Margaery asked, surprised.
"Well, not exactly." Samwell rubbed his nose, silently cursing the original Sam's blunders. "Father took me a few times, but I was too scared to actually kill anything. Eventually, he gave up bringing me along."
Margaery's eyes widened in disbelief, trying to reconcile the image of a man once too timid to hunt with the warrior who had defied all odds on the battlefield.
Perhaps recalling the first time they'd met, when Samwell had been overweight and awkward, Margaery chuckled, covering her mouth.
Samwell feigned an offended look, which only made her laugh harder. So he leaned down and silenced her laughter with a kiss.
When their lips finally parted, Margaery nestled against his chest, her eyes half-closed in lazy contentment.
"So, what changed you?" she asked softly, like a kitten basking in his warmth. "Was it that journey west?"
Samwell's hand slid along her waist as he replied, "No. It was a rite my father arranged—a sacrifice performed by two warlocks from Qarth, with a ritual bath in the blood of a sacrificed bull. That's how I gained strength and courage."
This was, in part, true. From the original Sam's memories, he knew that this ritual had indeed been performed. But it had done nothing for him back then, only resulting in Lord Randyll angrily whipping the warlocks when nothing changed.
"Really?" Margaery asked, clearly captivated. "No wonder you became so different."
"Exactly." Samwell inhaled the fresh scent of her hair, then hesitated before asking the question that had been gnawing at him. "Margaery… if the day ever comes when I stand against your father, whom will you choose?"
Margaery gave a diplomatic smile. "We'll do our best to prevent that day from coming."
Samwell frowned, unsatisfied. "Some things can't be avoided."
Margaery pulled back, meeting his gaze seriously. "You're worried about our trip to Highgarden, aren't you?"
"Yes," he admitted. "You know as well as I do that Lord Tyrell is leaning toward an alliance with the Lannisters, and my enmity with the Lannisters is beyond reconciliation."
"I love my father, but I can't say I've always agreed with his decisions. That's why I chose to leave with you at Skyreach," she replied, her eyes unwavering. "If he insists on this alliance with the Lannisters, I'll stand by your side."
"Even if it means opposing him?" Samwell pressed.
"Yes!" she nodded resolutely, though a flicker of hesitation appeared before she added, "But, Sam… you won't harm him, will you?"
Samwell burst into laughter. "Of course not! I wouldn't dream of hurting my future father-in-law."
He paused, then added, "I just want to stop him from harming himself, from harming House Tyrell, and from leading the Reach down a dangerous path."
Margaery studied his eyes, as if understanding something deeper, but she only murmured, "Sam, I trust you."
"I won't let you down."
They held each other in a warm embrace, savoring the peace and closeness—until footsteps approached.
Turning, Samwell saw Talla coming toward them.
"Sorry to interrupt," she apologized with a sheepish smile, "but there's news you need to hear."
"What is it?" Samwell reluctantly released Margaery.
"The army from the Dornish campaign has returned," Talla announced.
Samwell's eyes brightened. "So Dickon is back too?"
"Yes, they're almost at the east gate."
"Let's go."
Taking Margaery's hand, Samwell led the way toward the gate.
When they arrived, they saw a massive contingent approaching. The banner of House Tarly, with its swift, leaping huntsman, flapped proudly in the wind.
But Samwell quickly noticed that this force seemed larger than expected—much more than House Tarly's forces alone.
Margaery, beside him, remarked in surprise, "Brightwater Keep and Goldengrove have sent troops too."
Indeed, Samwell recognized the floral fox banner of House Florent and the golden tree on a white field belonging to House Rowan.
That House Florent had sent troops made sense; after all, Lord Randyll's wife was a Florent. But House Rowan? That family shared no marital ties with House Tarly, and there was no reason for them to stop at Horn Hill on their way back from Maidenpool.
Casting a quick glance at his father, standing at the gates, Samwell understood.
Lord Randyll must have invited Lord Mathis Rowan to Horn Hill. And for what purpose? Samwell could guess—it wasn't likely for sightseeing.
Recalling his recent conversation with his father, he realized that Lord Randyll must have already begun rallying the Reach's other lords to pressure Highgarden.
Goldengrove was a significant ally.
House Rowan controlled the entire northern Reach. In size, their holdings were only surpassed by the Hightowers and the Tyrells, and they ranked among the most influential families in the region.
Lord Mathis Rowan himself was a capable leader, someone whom Kevan Lannister later considered as a candidate for Hand of the King in the original story.
It appeared that the events at Skyreach had disgusted Lord Mathis enough for him to make such a public gesture by arriving at Horn Hill in force.
Together, Horn Hill, Brightwater Keep, and Goldengrove now formed a powerful anti-Lannister faction in the Reach.
Even if Lord Tyrell was bent on allying with the Lannisters, this opposition could severely hinder his ability to raise a substantial army.
In fact, if these lords applied enough pressure, they might even sway Lord Tyrell's decision.
With this realization, Samwell felt more confident about his impending journey to Highgarden.
The soldiers outside the gates began to slow, and small groups of cavalry rode ahead to the front lines.
At their head were Lord Mathis Rowan of Goldengrove and Ser Alekyn Florent, Brightwater Keep's heir and Samwell's uncle.
"Randyll! You've raised a fine son!" Lord Mathis called out with a booming voice.
Though his words seemed intended as praise, there was a teasing tone underneath.
Lord Randyll's lips twitched, but he managed a strained smile.
"Welcome to Horn Hill, Mathis."
Lord Mathis dismounted, laughing heartily as he gave Lord Randyll a hearty embrace. It was clear the two were longtime friends.
Then he turned to Samwell, his admiration evident.
"Lord Samwell," he said, "your father used to say you weren't fit to be his heir. But from what I've seen, he couldn't have been more wrong! Killing the Red Viper and besting four Kingsguard in a single blow—he thought that didn't make you worthy of Horn Hill? Ha!"
"You flatter me, my lord," Samwell replied modestly, but his gaze drifted to his father, whose expression was somewhere between annoyed and impressed.
Very satisfying, he thought.
Afterward, Lord Mathis greeted Margaery.
"Lady Margaery, I commend your bravery, and I stand by your choice. Mace must have lost his wits to think of marrying you to that madman Joffrey."
Margaery flashed a sweet smile. "Thank you, my lord. My grandmother has always spoken highly of you, calling you one of the wisest lords in the Reach."
Lord Mathis beamed, clearly pleased by Olenna Tyrell's praise.
"Bessanne once told me you take after her in spirit," he laughed, referring to his wife, Bessanne Redwyne, Olenna's niece and sister to Paxter Redwyne of the Arbor. "But I never thought this lovely rose could have such thorns! But now I see you truly are your grandmother's granddaughter!"
Samwell's interest piqued at Lord Mathis's words.
If House Rowan aligned with him, could this influence House Redwyne, another powerful Tyrell ally, to also reconsider its position?
If the Redwynes joined this growing coalition, Highgarden might have no choice but to reevaluate its Lannister ties.
Of course, this was only speculation. House Redwyne's loyalty to the Tyrells ran deep.
As they spoke, a carriage approached, and from it stepped a slightly plump, warm-faced woman—Samwell's mother, Lady Melessa Florent.
Following her was a young man with a familiar face: Dickon Tarly, Samwell's younger brother.
(End of Chapter)
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