A History of Casa Tyrell

The Reach is the richest and most fertile land in all Westeros, and its people trace their beginnings to Garth Greenhand, the legendary High King of the First Men, from whom half the noble houses of the south claim descent. Garth, the tales say, made the crops grow wherever he walked, wore a crown of vines and flowers, and fathered a line of kings and heroes without number. He is more god than man in the old stories, and the maesters count him among the figures too swathed in legend to weigh — but if any man of that name lived, the green kingdom he is said to have sown became the mightiest realm of the First Men.

From Garth's line, so the singers hold, sprang House Gardener, who ruled the Reach from Highgarden as kings for thousands of years, their green hand upon the banner. And in the service of those kings rose House Tyrell — not kings themselves, but their high stewards, who governed Highgarden's household and lands in the Gardeners' name. It was an office of great trust and greater opportunity, and the Tyrells, patient and canny, made the most of both.

The Gardener kings ended in an afternoon. King Mern IX brought the whole chivalry of the Reach to the Field of Fire alongside the King of the Rock, and there, before Aegon's three dragons, Mern died with all his sons and grandsons — the green hand extinguished root and branch in a single terrible battle. Highgarden stood open, its royal line ash on the wind, and the question of who should hold it fell to the conqueror.

Aegon's answer was Harlen Tyrell, the high steward, who yielded Highgarden without a fight and was rewarded with everything: the seat he had served, dominion over the whole of the Reach, and the wardenship of the South. In a stroke the stewards became lords paramount, raised above houses far older and prouder than themselves. The Florents and others of better blood have never quite forgiven the promotion, and grumble to this day that the rose sits a throne that ought by rights be theirs. But it was the Tyrells who bent the knee at the right moment, and in the aftermath of a conquest, timing is worth more than any pedigree.

As Lords of Highgarden the Tyrells flourished exactly as their words promised, growing strong on the incomparable bounty of the Reach and the swords of its countless knights. They wed cannily, feasted lavishly, and made themselves indispensable at court and in the field, second in wealth only to the lions of the west and second to none in the number of men they could put in the field. What they lacked was the ancient blood their rivals never let them forget, and so they pursued the next best thing — proximity to the throne.

When Robert Baratheon's rebellion came, the Tyrells kept faith with their Targaryen kings, and Lord Mace Tyrell sat a long, comfortable siege before Storm's End, starving Robert's brother Stannis without ever storming the walls. When the Trident was lost and the war with it, Mace furled his banners and yielded without a battle, his host intact — the largest army in the realm, and untested. It was a fitting emblem of the house: enormous strength, carefully preserved, waiting for the marriage or the moment that would carry the rose nearer to a crown.