GOT: House Redwyne

he air was thick with tension as Paxter Redwyne stood in the command tent, surrounded by maps and reports detailing the latest movements of the Tarly and Florent forces. The Siege of Bitterbridge had begun in earnest, and the enemy was tightening their grip around the town. Every day, their presence grew more oppressive, the encirclement slowly choking off the vital lifelines that kept Bitterbridge supplied and fortified.

Paxter had spent the better part of the morning with his captains, coordinating the next steps in their defense strategy. The constant pressure of the siege was wearing on the men, but Paxter knew that they couldn't afford to falter. Their resolve would be tested in the days to come, and he needed to ensure that they were prepared for the long haul.

Lady Mina entered the tent, her face serious as she handed Paxter a fresh report. "The scouts have confirmed it—the Tarlys have brought in more troops from their southern holdings. They're digging in for a prolonged siege, and they're well supplied."

Paxter scanned the report, his jaw tightening. "They're trying to outlast us. If they can cut off our supplies, they think they can starve us out."

Mina nodded. "It's a classic strategy, but it doesn't mean we're powerless. We've got enough supplies to hold out for a while, and we've been hitting their supply lines hard. But it's only a matter of time before the strain starts to show."

Paxter set the report aside, leaning over the map that detailed the surrounding terrain. "We need to keep up the pressure on their supply lines, but we also need to find a way to break their siege. If we can force them into open battle, we might be able to turn the tide."

Mina considered his words, her eyes narrowing as she studied the map. "We could try to draw them out with a feigned retreat. If we make it look like we're abandoning Bitterbridge, they might break their formation to pursue us."

Paxter nodded slowly, turning the idea over in his mind. "It's risky, but it could work. We'd need to coordinate it perfectly—one misstep, and they could turn our feint into a real rout."

As they discussed the details, Ser Martyn Harte entered the tent, his expression grim. "My lord, my lady, there's something you need to see."

Paxter and Mina exchanged a glance before following Martyn out of the tent. He led them to the southern wall of Bitterbridge, where a small group of soldiers had gathered, their faces set in grim lines. As they approached, Paxter saw what had drawn their attention.

On the hill just beyond the Tarly encampment, a group of enemy soldiers was erecting a series of wooden structures—siege towers. The sight of them sent a chill down Paxter's spine. The Tarlys were no longer content to simply wait them out; they were preparing for a full-scale assault on Bitterbridge's walls.

"They're planning to storm the walls," Martyn said, his voice low. "They've brought in engineers and are building those towers day and night. It won't be long before they're ready to attack."

Paxter felt the weight of the situation settle on his shoulders. A siege was one thing, but a direct assault on the walls was another. If the Tarlys breached the defenses, Bitterbridge could fall in a matter of hours.

"We need to prepare for the worst," Paxter said, his voice firm. "Double the watch on the walls, and make sure the men are ready to repel an assault. We'll need to use every advantage we have to hold them off."

Mina was already giving orders to the captains, her voice carrying across the battlements as she organized the defenses. Paxter turned his attention back to the siege towers, his mind racing with strategies to counter the impending attack.

"If they want to storm the walls, we'll make them pay for every inch," Paxter muttered to himself, his resolve hardening.

As the day wore on, the atmosphere in Bitterbridge grew increasingly tense. The sight of the siege towers looming on the horizon was a constant reminder of the danger they faced, and the soldiers moved with a sense of urgency as they reinforced the walls and prepared for the coming battle.

Paxter spent the afternoon inspecting the defenses, offering words of encouragement to the men as they worked. He knew that morale was crucial—if the soldiers lost heart, the walls would fall, no matter how strong the fortifications were.

In the evening, Paxter returned to his chambers to review the latest reports. Storm, his loyal Portuguese water dog, lay at his feet, a silent but comforting presence. As Paxter read through the updates, his mind was already thinking ahead to the coming days.

They would need to be ready for anything. The Tarlys and Florents were powerful adversaries, but Paxter knew that they had their own vulnerabilities. The key was to find those weaknesses and exploit them before the enemy could tighten their grip.

As he read, a knock at the door drew his attention. Mina entered, carrying a small tray with a simple meal—bread, cheese, and a cup of wine. She set the tray on the table and took a seat across from Paxter.

"You've been working non-stop," she said, her tone both reproachful and understanding. "You need to eat something. We can't have you collapsing from exhaustion before the battle even begins."

Paxter offered a tired smile. "I'll eat, I promise. But there's still so much to do."

Mina leaned forward, her eyes meeting his. "We're all doing everything we can, Paxter. You don't have to carry this burden alone. Trust in the people around you—we're all in this together."

Paxter reached for the cup of wine, taking a sip as he considered her words. She was right, of course. He had always been one to shoulder the responsibilities of leadership, but he knew that he couldn't do it all on his own. The people of Bitterbridge, the soldiers, his advisors—they were all relying on him, but they were also ready to support him.

"I know," he said finally, setting the cup down. "Thank you, Mina. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled, a rare moment of softness between them. "You'd manage, as you always do. But I'm glad I'm here to help."

As they shared the simple meal, the weight of the impending battle seemed to lift, if only for a moment. There was a quiet strength in the companionship they shared, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, they were not alone.

After they had finished eating, Paxter stood and walked to the window, looking out over the darkened landscape. The siege towers were barely visible in the distance, but he knew they were there, a looming threat on the horizon.

"We'll be ready for them," he said, more to himself than to Mina. "Whatever they bring, we'll be ready."

Mina joined him at the window, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "And we'll face it together."

As the night deepened, Paxter felt a renewed sense of resolve. The Siege of Bitterbridge was entering its most dangerous phase, but he was determined to see it through. The enemy might be strong, but House Redwyne was stronger. They had faced adversity before, and they would do so again.

The rising tide of conflict would test them all, but Paxter Redwyne knew that he was not alone. And with that knowledge, he was ready to face whatever the dawn would bring.