The armor had been fashioned by order of the Queen. It hang heavy but was a good fit, and he adjusted the chainmaille to suit his arm.
"Where is the wine? I had it just here."
"Oh…" the lady looked around. She had been there to help with getting his armor on; Tyrion Lannister of a year ago, or indeed, a month ago, would have sought her for sexual favors. Perhaps given her some gold for some release before the battle.
But now, he had no desire for such pursuits. In fact, he thought that he may be giving it up altogether. Shae had ruined that delight somewhat for him.
Daenerys Stormborn had positively driven it from his thoughts. He desired no other woman. Yet he desired her only the way one may desire riches the way a pauper might. Power the way a slave might…
Beauty the way an imp might.
In other words, without conviction nor hope of ever obtaining that desire.
It was a pathetic enterprise and he knew it. Was whoring over for him? Perhaps.
So he would drink all the more.
"…I believe you finished the wine, Lord Tyrion."
"Have I?" he was simultaneously amused and annoyed. "Well, once we reach the land, we can arrange some to be delivered from another one of the ships."
She nodded, and then left him there.
Tyrion sighed. Reaching land was something that would be happening within the hour. He would be seeing Cersei.
He wondered how he would be received.
With contempt and a sword, most likely. In fact, he rather thought that he would not be surviving the night.
This realization was not necessarily upsetting. True, he preferred life over death, but he would also have preferred to be taller. Perhaps not handsome, if that meant sacrificing his wit…but taller, yes. He rather thought he was on borrowed time, anyway. So many times he had escaped death, and yet here he stood.
Hand of the Queen.
Tyrion left the room and made his way to the above deck where Daenerys and her lackeys were. He smiled. He was one of said lackeys, and there was no place he'd rather be.
May the gods smile on Varys for bringing him to her.
"There it is," he whispered. "King's Landing. Or what is left of it."
He received no response from them, for they were staring at the land…nearly there now.
He looked up. Drogon was flying overhead, keeping a healthy distance from them. Rhaegal and Viserion were further back still…
Varys, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tyrion, and Daenerys were all wearing maille, and some furs as well. The air was decidedly colder than when Tyrion had left the place.
The ship landed on shore, and the anchor was dropped. Daenerys swallowed, and turned to leave the vessel.
Tyrion looked at the others, then followed her.
They all exited the ship, along with a few of the Unsullied.
They had not gotten far when they met soldiers in the dim.
"Halt! Who goes there?"
Missandei took a step forward and spoke: "You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn. The Unburnt, Freer of Slaves, Mother of Dragons, Blood of Targeryen, and rightful Queen of this land."
"Rightful Queen? We will send word to Queen Cersei that you are here. We'll see how rightful you are."
Daenerys looked at Tyrion, and smirked at him, then nodded.
He knew that he shouldn't be nervous. And he wasn't.
Except he was, and he hated that he was.
Frightened, not so much. He was prepared to die if need be, which was why he offered to face Cersei alone.
At her nod, he left the circle.
The plan was afoot…
He made his way around the back of the Keep, seamlessly recalling the way after spending so much time there. He hoped that Varys' little birds were right…
For if they weren't, he was a dead man.
The dungeons below gave him a feeling of unease, as he snuck his way around guards and soldiers…most of the strong ones had been summoned for wait closer to the Queen, something that they were all counting on. And he enjoyed some stealth maneuvering because of it. Varys had planted the seeds very well.
He crept along the dank dark, until he reached the caverns he had recalled seeing so long ago now…
…and there it was.
Wildfire, glowing soft green in the dim. It appeared that Cersei had not moved much, if any, in the destruction of the Sept. This was disconcerting.
King's Landing was potentially a time bomb…and if the dragons set any of it on fire, as was the original plan, there would be no King's Landing any more.
He was sweating though the chill was deep.
Nerves.
Soft and steady dripping of water could be heard all around him, and he turned. One more stop, then, now that he saw the stores.
This he dreaded. This he knew would be an impossible meeting, though it was equally impossible to know what to expect from it. He exited the underground and up a flight of stairs to the prisoner quarters who were more prized, so to speak.
Tyrion crept along, recalling with vivid detail the passageway to where he had spent so much time following Joffrey's death. Strange to think how much had occurred in the time since.
He wondered at Daenerys, and the others, some floors above now, probably. Cersei likely accepted them by now.
And now Tyrion was relying on Varys to speak for her, protect her…
…and his heart skipped a beat at the thought.
He should be next to her, facing his mad sister…not scampering in the dungeons like a mouse…
Each cell proved to be empty.
Perhaps the little birds had been mistaken.
…until he found him.
He was slumped against the wall, the moon's soft light feathered through the bars and dust in the air.
Tyrion stopped and looked at him, and love welled inside of him, for he thought that he would never see him again.
Jamie must have heard his breath, for he looked over, and saw his little brother. His feet found the floor, his eyes were wide…
Then his gaze fell, and his head began to shake. "You," he said.
"She has made you her prisoner."
"I need to kill you and make my imprisonment valid," and he looked at him with slight loathing.
"Slightly difficult considering you are in there, and I am out here."
"A temporary setback," and Jamie sat up.
"She means to set you free, despite the fact that you refuse alliance to her?"
"She loves me."
"And yet here you are. To be loved by Cersei Lannister is a prison both figuratively and literally. Good thing I never had it."
Jamie looked at him, and stood. "Why…how are you here?"
"Well, that is an interesting tale, brother. But one whose details should wait. For the immediacy of the moment, I am here to set you free, should you swear alliance to another Queen."
"Another…?" he paused. "You are speaking of the Targeryen?"
Tyrion nodded.
"So. You've turned your loyalties to the enemy. You killed our father," he spat. "Why would I ever, ever do anything for you?"
"Because I am your one hope to get out of here and maintain your honor, or what's left of it," and he began to pace in front of the bars. "Cersei killed hundreds of people, the same way King Aerys swore he would. She led Tommen to his death. She is not in her right mind and you know it."
"She is my sister."
"And I am your brother."
Jamie laughed. "You killed our parents."
At this, Tyrion swallowed. "Yes I did. And I do not regret our father, the loveless scoundrel he was. He took everything from me," he approached even closer now. "Everything. And Cersei is about to take everything from you, unless you promise to aid me in seeing a new Queen sit on the throne."
Jamie did not answer.
"She is mad, Jamie. As mad as Aerys. You know this. She is not the woman you love any longer."
"What do you know of love, Tyrion?"
"A great more than you think."
"Who? The whore who left you for father without a second thought? The woman you murdered?"
Tyrion fought back angry tears. He loathed that Shae, and everything that she represented, could bother him yet. "Yes."
"She left you."
"And Cersei left you."
With a withering glare he turned away from him. "I never saw her like that. And to imprison me when I told her what I saw…madness…that she was not fit to rule…" he paused. "I almost did it, Tyrion. I almost killed her when I saw the madness in her eyes."
He did not respond to this.
"How could I?" his head fell. "The things I do for love…"
"You can stop, you know. Though we cannot control who we love, we can control how we love."
"What do you mean?" Jamie asked without turning to face him.
"You can stop acting on love, and start acting on reason. Cersei has abandoned reason. You know this. You can be the reasonable one for the both of you."
He looked at him from over his shoulder. "And what, do you propose, is reasonable?"
"She is not fit for rule. You could swear your sword to Daenerys Targeryen, and Cersei will be placed on house arrest at Casterly Rock."
Jamie faced him completely now. "You work for her?" he approached him. "Of course you do. You are…" he glanced at his chainmaille. "You have a position of rank."
"That's right. And I can let you out."
"How?"
And with that, Tyrion held a key from his breastplate. Varys had many duplicates made during his time at King's Landing.
"You trust me not to kill you?"
"No. But I trust you to do the right thing. You need to decide if letting me live is the right thing."
"You are something, Tyrion Lannister," Jamie said. "How are we still alive?"
He chuckled at that. "I cannot answer that. But I expect it's something to do with the silver haired Queen a few floors above us."
Jamie squinted his eyes. "I hear she is beautiful."
"She is."
"And commanding."
"That too."
"Rather smart," a smile grew on Jamie's face.
"More than most."
"And just, wise, and fair," he beamed at Tyrion.
"While you list the many virtues of Daenerys Targeryen, we are wasting time in getting to her and getting on with it."
"Are you in love with her, little brother?" it wasn't a jest, but a bit of disbelief was laced in his query.
He sighed. "Do you swear her your allegiance?"
"You are!"
"Jamie, this is tiresome, and you remain behind those bars. Swear allegiance, and we can avoid death and other nasty business."
"How can I turn my back on Cersei?" his face fell. "And I murdered Aerys."
With a very steady gaze, he got as close as the bars would allow…"She has abandoned you, brother. I am here," he paused. "Daenerys understands what her father was. She is willing to listen to you."
Without much ado, without preamble nor utterance, Jamie Lannister nodded his head.
And Tyrion took the key and turned it…
…he knew that Jamie may very well slit his throat at the first opportunity. He knew this, but he wouldn't let Jamie die. This was mostly because he loved his brother, and implicitly trusted him, but also because he really did not fear death.
He wished he had some wine.
The door swung open, and Jamie stepped out as Tyrion stepped backward.
"Ready?" Tyrion asked.
"I suppose I need to be."
And the pair ascended the stairs, both weaponless, to where the two Queens were likely meeting and discussing either terms of surrender, or determining the hallows of war.