While Lucas and TIllie lost in worldly pleasure were making their way towards King's Landing, another group was also marching towards King's Landing. And this group was scheduled to reach the capital a day or two earlier than Lucas and his men.
This group was larger in size. Alongside the knights tasked with protection, a remarkable number of servants and maids were travelling along in this convoy. This was the party from the Reach, specifically from Highgarden.
The official purpose of this group? It was Loras Tyrell who was travelling to King's Landing to become the squire of Renly Baratheon. Accompanying him were his sister, Margaery Tyrell, and their grandmother, Olenna Tyrell, who claimed that they were simply visiting the capital to see its sights and pay a courtesy call on the king of the seven kingdoms.
But anyone with even half a working brain knew better. The Queen of Thorns was not one for idle tours or polite visits. Her schemes, when she chose to weave them, ran deep and often snared far more than her enemies ever anticipated.
"Grandmother," Margaery said, a slight frown creasing her beautiful face. "Are you truly suggesting that I should try to get close to Ser Lucas Lannister?"
Her tone was carrying a note of disbelief. When Olenna had urged her to accompany this journey, this was certainly not what Margaery had imagined.
"Yes," Olenna replied, a sly smile curling her lips as she tilted her head ever so slightly. "Which part of my words did you fail to understand, dear?"
"I understood what you said," Margaery pressed, her brows knitting tighter. "But why him?"
"Yes, Ser Lucas Lannister has earned himself quite the reputation. He is wealthy, perhaps a formidable warrior, and certainly clever but what else?"
"There are only rumours that he might inherit Casterly Rock. Nothing more," she leaned forward, her tone sharpening. "We both know Lord Tywin is not the sort of man who would be very willing to relinquish The Rock to someone who is not his direct heir."
"Ser Lucas might never be more than what he is now, a landed knight, perhaps even a minor lord at best," she argued.
"Would it not make far more sense for me to draw closer to Prince Joffrey Baratheon? And if not him, then even Ser Renly Baratheon seems a better prospect. He is Lord of Storm's End, sits on the king's small council, and is the king's own brother."
Olenna had let her granddaughter continue with her sharp words. Although Margaery was intelligent and would surely follow in her footsteps, that granddaughter of hers still had much to learn.
She especially needed to learn to see the things that were not so visible yet still very much present. Which in this case was the power and influence Ser Lucas Lannister commanded.
Olenna let out a soft chuckle. Her sharp eyes, still bright despite her age, remained fixed on her granddaughter.
"Oh, sweetling," she said. "You have your beauty and your charm, but your mind still needs honing."
She leaned back in her cushioned seat and continued.
"You think only of titles on parchment and shiny crowns. That boy Lucas may not have much of all these things but what he had earned at this mere age is an astonishing feat, almost unbelievable. He is merely eighteen and probably has enough wealth to rival many lords."
"And he has just started selling weapons made from his metal to other noble houses," she said. "The lords are going to bathe him in gold. And you must have heard of the sudden appearance of a new wine from Lannisport, another invention of Ser Lucas."
"He has amassed wealth that even House Lannister watches with keen interest. He has built his own power outside of Tywin's direct hand, controls trade, commands loyalty from men who would die for him, and if whispers are true, he is even more innovative than the Maesters would like. They are not very comfortable with him."
Of course, she would know about the Maesters. The citadel was under heavy influence of Reach after all.
Margaery nodded. She understood the importance of these matters, or so she thought.
"You know," the Queen of Thorns continued, "whenever the next round of conflict breaks out, which is bound to happen sooner rather than later, every house will be currying favour with Ser Lucas. Not House Lannister, not Tywin Lannister. Not for their wealth or their forces, but purely for that metal."
"Have you seen their arrows?" Olenna asked, and Margaery could only shake her head. She had little interest in such things.
"They pierce our shields and leather armour like nothing. Only proper metal armour stands a chance against those arrows. And in a conflict, how many men can we truly equip with metal armour? Lucas' arrows will cut down forces even before the battle begins. And I have not yet even spoken of their equally powerful swords and other weapons."
"You understand, girl?" Olenna asked, her expression neutral.
"Yes," Margaery nodded. She did not. But she knew better to trust her grandmother.
"Now," Olenna continued, "Joffrey will have the crown, hopefully. But what support will he truly have?"
"The Stormlands? I do not see them rallying behind a king whose control lies with the Lannisters, especially when they would rather have a Baratheon ruling them from Storm's End."
"The Lannisters will hold all the power, then," Olenna said as she paused to contemplate.
"Perhaps. But then, which Lannister? Tywin is old. It would not be long before the Rock will need a new lord. Who? Jaime Lannister? Tyrion Lannister? Even if one of those two becomes Lord of Casterly Rock, what influence will they have to oppose Lucas? None."
"He is the most influential man in the Westerlands, second only to Tywin himself. But that old man built his reputation brick by brick. The lords support the old lion. Jaime and Tyrion have nothing that would compel the lords to support them. Jaime, if he inherits the lordship, will have to break yet another oath. As for Tyrion, they would never see him as fit enough."
Margaery nodded in understanding. She could grasp a few of her grandmother's points.
"The situation with Renly Baratheon is equally complex. His power base is rather hollow. Apart from the name and titles, he has nothing. He is neither a brave warrior like his brother Robert nor a genius strategist like Stannis. All the comfort he had lived in from the very start has made him too soft. Too dull."
"Now, these are pure political aspirations," Olenna said. "If possible, I would want to choose a husband for you who could keep you happy. Give you the respect you deserve. Love the way you want and cherish you forever."
"If rumours are to be believed," Olenna continued. "Joffrey is a boy with a cruel streak. I do not see what path he will take but I doubt he is going to make improvements."
"Renly," she said, "well, Renly. The less we say about him, the better it would be."
Olenna offered no further explanation as she gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Now, Lucas Lannister," she added. "That boy is someone whom I would want to keep my eyes on."
Olenna leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Imagine, my dear, if he should ever truly rise. Whether he inherits Casterly Rock or builds a new seat of power all his own, would it not be better to have his ear and his heart bound to the Reach? With you at his side, his riches would swell our coffers, his soldiers would march at our banners' call and our soldiers would be armed with the best weapons available across Westeros. That, sweet girl, is how we secure the Tyrell legacy for generations."
"I am not asking you to fuck him," Olenna said and Margaery almost cringed at his grandmother's occasional vulgar mouth, "at least, not so soon."
"What I am asking you is to be polite with Renly, curtsey to Joffrey but keep your sharpest smiles and widest grin ready for Lucas Lannister," she said.
"In the days we get with him, we will evaluate him on all measures. There may come a day when half of Westeros will wish they had thought to snare him first."
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