The winds were steady as the Gilded Vine cut across the seas of the Reach, her sails full and hull strong. Paxter Redwyne stood at the prow, cloaked in salt-stained green and gold, his eyes fixed on the emerald horizon signaling home. The Arbor was near.
Seagulls cried overhead as the vineyards of the island came into view, golden in the sunlight. The ports bustled with renewed life—a sign of recovery Mina had written about in her last letter. Workers moved crates of wine onto merchant ships, and Redwyne banners flew proudly from the towers.
The moment the ship docked, Paxter descended with purpose, Ser Martyn following closely behind. At the docks, Mina stood waiting in a deep blue gown that fluttered in the sea breeze, radiant despite months of political strain.
"You look tired," she said, smiling and reaching for his hand.
"Only because I've been doing your job," Paxter replied, allowing himself a rare grin.
She smirked, tugging him into a brief embrace. "And yet the Arbor still stands. Come, there is much to discuss. The others await."
Inside the Redwyne manor, the air felt warmer and more comforting than the chill of Dragonstone. They entered the great hall, where representatives from Houses Rowan, Oakheart, and Merryweather awaited, already served wine by attentive stewards.
"Warden of the South," said Ser Corwin of House Rowan, bowing respectfully. "It is good to see your safe return."
"Lord Rowan, Ser Oakheart, Lady Merryweather," Paxter greeted each in turn. "Thank you for coming. Mina tells me you've stood by the Arbor when others hesitated."
"Because you gave us reason to," said Lady Merryweather. "Our choice was easy. We grow tired of the Lannisters and their Reach-born puppets."
Paxter nodded firmly. "Daenerys Targaryen will not treat us as pawns. She rewards loyalty and respects strength. I've stood in her war council, and she listens more than any king I've known."
"And her losses?" asked Ser Oakheart carefully. "We heard about the fleet lost to Euron Greyjoy."
Paxter maintained his composure. "Euron struck like a coward in the dark. Yes, the Dornish and Yara's fleet were lost, but that only increases our importance. Moreover, I've convinced the Queen to strike back at the Lannister thieves who robbed Highgarden. Justice will be ours."
A murmur of approval swept around the table. Mina watched carefully, her gaze thoughtful.
"The Queen fights for us now," Paxter continued. "When she claims the Iron Throne, she will remember who stood with her."
"And those who refused," Mina added pointedly.
With wine and promises exchanged, the lords pledged their continued support. Paxter met each vow with a firm clasp and a solemn promise.
Later, in the privacy of their solar, Mina poured them both a final glass of Arbor Red.
"Rowan, Oakheart, and Merryweather—secure," she noted. "The Reach is yours, my dear."
"Once Daenerys deals with the Tarlys," Paxter agreed. "But the war is far from over."
"Your next move?"
"Secure Daenerys's favor. I leave at dawn for Casterly Rock. The Unsullied are stranded. I must bring them back."
"You don't have to go yourself," Mina said softly.
"I must," Paxter replied firmly. "My presence must be felt. Daenerys needs assurance of our sincerity, and we must remind her of our necessity. Only then will our house truly be secure."
Mina leaned in, touching his hand. "Then go. Return soon, my love. You have a duchy to rule."
"When Randall Tarly submits, I'll send you his letter of fealty," Paxter assured her, kissing her farewell. "Show it to the other houses; they will follow his lead."
"And the Florents?" Mina asked cautiously.
"We'll show mercy," Paxter decided as he walked away.
Later that day, the combined fleet of Redwyne, Rowan, Oakheart, and Merryweather sailed northward toward the towering cliffs of Casterly Rock.
The aftermath of battle lingered on the shore. Burnt wreckage bobbed in the surf, and on the beach, ranks of Unsullied waited silently. Grey Worm stood at their head, weary yet resolute.
When Paxter landed, Unsullied soldiers approached cautiously, uncertain of his intentions. They surrounded him and escorted him to Grey Worm, who regarded Paxter silently, gripping his spear tightly, clearly distrustful.
"The Queen has commanded me to return you to Dragonstone," Paxter said respectfully, bowing slightly. As Daenerys's trusted general, Grey Worm warranted careful diplomacy.
After a tense moment, Grey Worm finally nodded, though distrust lingered in his eyes.
As the Unsullied boarded the ships, Paxter observed their disciplined silence and precision with respect. He considered Grey Worm's distrust, realizing how much the Unsullied had endured. Their dedication and resilience were unmatched, qualities that would prove essential in the battles yet to come. Paxter turned back to the captain.
"Make sure the men show these warriors every courtesy," Paxter instructed. "They've faced more hardships than most men ever will."
"Of course, my lord," the captain replied.
The journey to Dragonstone was quiet, filled with thoughtful reflection for Paxter. The sun set brilliantly over the ocean, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, a beauty contrasting sharply with the grim business of war. Paxter knew the coming days would test all their strengths and loyalties. Yet, he felt a growing confidence that their cause was just.
Finally, the cliffs of Dragonstone loomed ahead, dark and forbidding. Paxter steeled himself for the challenges ahead, determined to see the Reach safe and his queen victorious.