Siege of the Red Keep

Myrcaella dried her tears after a time, always sure that her scarf and veil covered the worst of her deformities. We Strong of the Kingsguard entered the room covered in gore, a monstrous sight. He gazed at Myrcaella and then stood outside, as if on guard. She had survived Dorne only to be assailed the moment she arrived. If she hadn't hidden under the bed she would have been taken too. "Will they kill mother and Tommen?" She asked Mace. "Where are they taking them?"

Myrcella's face was stone. She was truly alone now, surrounded by strangers, her family away or missing. Not even uncle Jaime was here. She was left with this silent, lumbering thing. It barely even moved most of the time. It just followed her and stared. "I will pray it is so, Lord Tyrell." she managed. Her veil covered the side of her face, and she seemed embarrassed to be seen in public at all.

Ser Strong inclined his head. He had been given a a new white cloak to replace the one that had been completely soaked through by blood and piss during the desperate fight.

Please inform speedily about what is going on, Lord Tarly.

Devan watches as Tarly retreats back into the capital. Pulling on his horse's reins, the Lannister turns his horse around and proceeds to return to his lines. At the entry into the encampment, Lord Brax and several other commanders await the return of the Warden of the West.

What did he say, Ser Lannister?

Lord Brax asks first.

We are waiting to see if this can be resolved peacefully. We don't have the men to fight the Tyrells... we will likely die here if we tried to scale those walls.

Ser Devan makes his statement as he dismounts his horse and has a squire take it.

Keep our patrols going and keep an eye on the southern rounds. Be ready to fall back to Hayford if need be. We will be awaiting word in the mean time.

In the end, things did resolve peacefully. Lord Brax was left to command the troops while Devan went into the city, along with Ser Addam Marbrand, Ser Lorent Lorch, and Ser Humfrey Swyft, along with a hundred or so knights. They passed through throngs of Reachmen soldiers that were billeted on the capital and patrolled the streets. It was obvious what was Faith Militant territory vs what remained under the control of the Red Keep's court. So it was easy to keep a distance from the zealots that chanted and preached through the streets. Ser Lannister dismounted at the Red Keep and proceeded inside to join this meeting called by Lord Tyrell.

No wonder things had diffused so quickly: Cersei was gone and so was Tommen, only Myrcella survived this attack from unaligned sellswords. Not to mention a few other notables, but the court seemed very bare to say the least. Devan glances at Tarly who speaks quietly to him before turning his attention back to Mace, Nymeria, Tarly, and the High Septon, in that order. There were various opinions and suggestions going about here and there. There was a lot to consider with the unknown going about now. Devan was no politician, like Tarly, but he did understand military strategy at least.

My lords and ladies, in my views, what we need is to properly secure my royal cousin, the Princess Myrcella. The Red Cloaks have taken a beating, much of the Kingsguard was taken away, and, with them, much of the courts members. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard has not been heard since I left him in the Riverlands, Balon Swann is still in Dorne, and only Ser Strong remains.

Devan glances at the silent giant. That 'person,' if it was one, gave him an unsettling feeling.

The capital must be secured! Cersei would want it secure for the sake of the Princess.

That's all the Lannister could think of, securing the Iron Throne before advancing. For if the city was unstable, and they marched, who knows what could happen. The same people, who stole the King away, could return and take the city for real a second time. There were too many uncertainties. Just like with how he, cautiously, approached King's Landing, Devan was rather cautious and unsure of what lied ahead with the Queen Regent, the King, and much of the Kingsguard gone.

Ser Devan listened to everything that was said thus far. Aurane Waters... a name that was only familiar cause he had been Master of Ships before Lord Redwyne took over. A likely sensible candidate besides Aegon the Pretender. The Eastern side of Westeros was free of Ironborn raiders, but pirates from the Stepstones and Sellsails plagued the waters without the presence of a Royal Fleet to contend with them. And either one would be the likely source of any organized attempt to gain King Tommen. Devan even thought of Stannis Baratheon, the man was bold enough to do such a thing.

At the mention of the garrison of ten thousand men, Ser Devan had to make an inquiry.

My Lord Tyrell, who will supply ten thousand men to the garrison of King's Landing and who will command it? As you plan to strike south at Storm's End, and with many absent due to the raid's success, we need to determine a hierarchy of command, with yourself at its head.

Ser Lannister had twelve thousand at his back, the Dornish banners had yet to be seen, but would be joining Lord Tyrell, who commanded over thirty thousand.

With much of the leadership cut apart, you must establish who is to take command of King's Landing when you depart and command its defending troops.

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Moments after further questions were stated to Tyrell's statement, a maester quickly ran into the meeting room. Huffing and puffing, he nonetheless handed a raven's message to Lord Tyrell.

The High Septon stood, pushing his stray hairs back into place behind his cowl with his bony fingers. “I will pray for Tommen’s safe return. I am needed by the people of this city my lords.” He said plainly. “Whoever commands the city know that you will not take advantage of the denizens here in. The Faith militant will guard these streets until our dying breath.” Ser Wells wordlessly gave a nod in reply. “Tommen is your King, retrieve him, as is your duty Lord Hand.” He strode out then, his uncovered black feet passing over the halls. The Swords dutifully followed behind him, as they made their way back to “their” portion of the city, where the Poor Fellows dominated the streets.