GOT: House Redwyne

The winds held steady, guiding the Gilded Vine gracefully across the glittering waters of the Reach. Her sails, billowing with the breath of the sea, carried her swiftly homeward, while her sturdy hull carved through the waves with unyielding purpose.

Paxter Redwyne stood at the ship's prow, a solitary figure cloaked in salt-stained emerald and gold, eyes locked upon the distant green horizon where home awaited him. The Arbor drew closer with each passing moment, its lush hills bathed in the golden warmth of the setting sun.

Above, seagulls danced and called out, heralding the ship's return. As the familiar vineyards emerged clearly into view, Paxter breathed deeply, savoring the scent of home—the faint sweetness of grapes mingled with the bracing salt air.

The ports, once shadowed by war and uncertainty, now bustled vibrantly, their vitality restored, precisely as Mina had assured him in her latest letters. Dockworkers hurriedly moved barrels and crates of Arbor wine, and from every tower, proud banners of House Redwyne snapped sharply in the sea breeze.

When the Gilded Vine finally touched the docks, Paxter descended quickly, his boots firm upon the familiar wooden planks. Behind him, steadfast as ever, came Ser Martyn, armor gleaming under the waning sun.

But all Paxter saw in that instant was Mina—waiting with grace and dignity, adorned in a deep blue gown that rippled gently in the maritime winds. Her poise was unmarred, her strength undiminished by the burdens she had borne in his absence.

Their sons leaped from the ship's gangway, sprinting eagerly toward their mother. Tears shimmered in Mina's eyes as she welcomed them into her embrace, clutching them tightly as though she feared the moment were fleeting. Desmera too ran up and hugged her brothers and mothers, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

She raised her gaze, meeting Paxter's across the bustling dockyard, silent words exchanged in a heartbeat. As Paxter stepped closer, Mina looked at him her eyes filled with happy tears and silently mouthed, "Thank you."

Paxter nodded back warmth filling his heart. For a brief moment, he too felt he might cry. His family was finally whole again. Never again would someone take his daughter, sons, or his wife from him. Even if it cost him his live, he would protect his family. 

That evening, the family gathered around a long table laden with roasted meats, fresh vegetables, warm bread, and fine Arbor wines. Candlelight flickered warmly, illuminating their faces with a gentle glow. Mina's eyes moved affectionately over each of them, noticing their gaunt cheeks and lean frames.

"You've all grown far too thin," Mina said with gentle concern, passing a platter of roasted duck toward Paxter. "I'll not have the Reach whispering that I starve my family. Eat, my loves. You'll need your strength for the days ahead."

"Alright," their Horas laughed softly, his eyes dancing with warmth. "One of the things we missed most was your cooking, Mother."

Hobber eagerly tore a piece of warm bread, spreading fresh butter generously across it. "Every night, I dreamed of your meals, Mother."

Paxter chuckled softly, filling his plate generously. "If there's one thing I've missed, aside from your company, it's the way you manage to turn any meal into a feast, my dear."

Mina smiled, her eyes bright with affectionate pride. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to cook double portions until you've all regained your strength."

Hours later, in the intimacy of their solar, Paxter and Mina sat in silence before a softly crackling fire. Golden-red flames painted flickering shadows across the stone walls, bringing warmth and quiet comfort. Mina gently filled two cups with Arbor Red, handing one solemnly to Paxter.

"You did it," Mina said softly, her voice thick with emotion and admiration.

Paxter gazed into the flames, his brow furrowed with lingering doubt. "No," he murmured quietly. "Not yet. There remains much to do."

She reached out, gently clasping his hand in hers. "You saved our sons. You brought them home safely. That is all that matters."

Paxter leaned back, feeling for the first time in months the unbearable weight of command begin to lift from his shoulders, even if only momentarily. "I still wonder," he admitted quietly, almost to himself, "if I'd acted more decisively after Margaery's wedding, perhaps so many lives could have been spared—so much suffering avoided."

Mina squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You did what was possible with what knowledge you had. You gave people hope when others abandoned it. That is precisely the kind of Warden the South needs right now."

A quiet settled between them, comfortable yet profound. Paxter rose slowly, stepping to the window to gaze toward the darkening horizon. Beyond it, he knew, lay Highgarden—and a future waiting to be shaped.

"We ride for Highgarden at first light," Paxter finally spoke, his tone steady and resolute. "Send ravens to every house in the Reach. Call them to assemble there."

A soft smile played at Mina's lips as she watched her husband, pride clear in her eyes. "It is already done. I've arranged staff and supplies, and the halls of Highgarden await only your presence."

Paxter turned back to her, his chest swelling with appreciation and pride. "Then we must not keep them waiting."

Mina rose gracefully, crossing the room to stand beside him. She touched his arm gently, her voice unwavering with conviction. "Together, we will rebuild the Reach, stronger than before. Our people look to you now—not merely as a lord or a commander, but as their hope."

Paxter nodded, feeling renewed strength within him, anchored by her unwavering support. He took Mina's hand, bringing it softly to his lips. "Then tomorrow we begin anew," he declared, his voice resonating with quiet determination, "for our family, our people, and for the Reach itself."

Outside, twilight deepened, stars beginning to appear in the velvet sky, shining like tiny beacons of hope against the gathering night.