"Tyrion," she whispered. Drogon had just taken flight after killing that mammoth of a man, and she fell to her knees…
He was bleeding, she could tell, and someone had wrapped his neck with cloth.
He was not responding to her, and she stood. "Varys, Missandei, please explain to them our intentions here. Tell them that I will be keeping my communications open, and that they can visit me at any time," she paused. "I need to get Lord Tyrion inside."
The pair nodded, and turned toward the throng of soldiers, beginning their speech.
Dany saw someone lurking in the doorway, partially obscured by shadow…"You there. Help me with him."
And the man did; he picked Tyrion up and brought him inside. Dany looked about…"Have you any idea where a Maester might be?" she asked the solider.
The soldier, who was looking at her crookedly, replied, "I had been looking for one myself for him."
And now she looked at him fully. "What is your name?"
"Jamie Lannister."
Her face fell. "Wait here."
Jamie Lannister…it made sense. He would be around here somewhere…"Grey Worm, do you know where a Maester might be?"
The soldier shook his head warily.
"You appear to be cold," Dany observed.
"I am, Khaleesi…but will be fine," he nodded.
"Excuse me, Your Grace, but you were inquiring about a Maester?"
"I was."
"I am Qyburn, and can help you," he bowed.
Dany looked at him crookedly, but led him inside to where Jamie still held Tyrion. "Here…he is unconscious and bleeding. He is my Hand, so I want him to receive only your very best care."
Jamie followed them with his brother, and deposited him in a room not far from where they stood. Qyburn began ordering his man about, telling him to fetch various salts and remedies for Tyrion's wound.
Dany and Jamie left the room, and she looked at him with some disdain. "So, King Slayer. We meet at last."
"Queen Slayer, too, your grace," he corrected.
She arched a brow. "Indeed? You murdered Cersei?"
"I did. I can show you…"
"That won't be necessary," Dany replied. "Come with me." He followed her to the Throne Room, the only place she absolutely knew how to get to in the palace.
She looked down, and saw Tyrion's blood on her hands, and felt heady. She would never forgive herself if something happened to him…
The fire was warm and comforting. It crackled and it spat out embers in her room.
She had been sitting there for some time, thinking about her reaction to Tyrion's injury.
Her reaction to his story about killing his father.
Her reaction to learning of his marriage to Sansa Stark…
And indeed, every interaction she could think of since they met.
No one could make her laugh the way he did. No one made her feel at ease the way he did. He had, rather steadily, become her most trusted confidant and friend.
But, she thought, perhaps more than that. Why had she dismissed Daario with such ease? Tyrion had made the suggestion, and she hardly gave it a thought.
Dany sat back in her chair. This was not something that she saw coming, and it gave her pause. She had made Tyrion Lannister her Hand, since she trusted him implicitly and believed in him.
But the jealousy…yes…the jealousy…she felt at his marriage to Sansa Stark was acute. Perhaps she only wanted to command all of his attention…
But why. Why would that matter? Why would it matter if he had been married and not mentioned it? He was under no obligation to confess every single thing he had ever done to her…
Dany stood.
She had made the promise to see someone that day, and the excitement of it all made her distracted.
And it was fortuitous that that person knew Tyrion better than anyone alive.
She grabbed a wrap from her bed and left her room silently. Though it was barely eventide, it looked and felt like the middle of the night.
She had arrived in Westeros at likely its most unattractive hour.
Now well versed in the Red Keep's corridors, Dany walked the halls until she came upon Jamie Lannister's room, with its guards men standing watch.
She nodded to them, and they allowed her to knock.
"Come in," she heard him call casually.
Dany opened the door to find him sitting at his table, eating soup.
He stood when she entered, and he bowed.
"Good evening, Lord Jamie."
"Am I a Lord?" he sat back down. "I never felt like one."
"Well, how would you like to be addressed?" and she sat as well, right across from him.
"Jamie is fine," he sipped his wine.
Dany nodded. "You may call me 'Your Grace'," she smiled.
He returned her smile. "Everything I've heard about you is true. Beautiful. Commanding. Wise. Though, I must say, keeping a most prized prisoner locked in his rooms for a week may not be a shining moment."
"Where would you have me place you, then?"
"I would have executed me," he sipped some more. "I killed your father after I swore to protect him. I killed my sister after I swore to love her," he picked up his goblet and drank deeply, and afterwards, he poured some more. "I am not to be trusted."
"You want me to sever your head?" she smirked.
"Well, perhaps 'want' is a bit much. Though I am rather depressed about the whole of it. Imagine, engaged in a torrid incestuous affair your entire life with your sibling, only to discover that she is as mad as you always suspected, but never admitted. You have children with her. Lie about all of it to everyone," he paused. "I am pretty much a villain, Your Grace," he added with feeling.
"You speak so casually about all of it, as though none of it mattered," Dany poured herself some wine.
"It doesn't. Not anymore."
"No?" she sipped.
"Nothing matters. That is what I've learned. Nothing matters, and yet here we are."
"Yet here we are," she smiled, then looked down. "Your brother cares for you very much."
"Tyrion has always had my devotion."
"You care for your siblings to the point of distraction," she drank her wine, then sat the glass down.
Jamie laughed at that. "Well, I killed Cersei for many reasons, but the one reason, the immediate reason, was that she had, in my mind, just killed our brother. Killed him," he continued. "Just when I had convinced myself to allow him to live."
"You were going to execute him?" she stated, demandingly.
"Of course I was. He killed our father."
"Yes," Dany nodded. "He told me all about it."
"Did he?"
"He said that your father was horrible to him his entire life."
"That he was," and Jamie poured himself more wine.
Dany smiled, and folded her hands on her lap. "Was everyone always terrible to him?"
"Mostly. Though he has always had a way of looking at things. I was fascinated by him," he sat back. "For everything he suffered, he always seemed to have the upper hand. Except, perhaps, where Tywin was concerned," and he sipped again.
"He is a fascinating person."
And Jamie looked at her. "You named him your Hand."
"I did."
"A wise choice."
"I'm glad you approve," she smirked.
"He is lucky to have found you," he returned her smirk.
"Or, I am lucky to have found him. Or, alternatively, we are both lucky to have the admiration of Varys."
Jamie laughed. "You care for my brother," his gaze fell, and he played with his cup.
Dany looked away. "Your hearth needs lighting."
"I'm not cold."
She sighed. "I do care for him, yes. I am…confused about it all."
"Why? Because he is a dwarf?"
Her eyes snapped to his. "No. And I am insulted that you'd suggest…"
"Why wouldn't I? What other reason could there be that you'd be confused?" Jamie leaned forward. "Pardon me, Your Grace, but really. Tyrion is as smart as they come. Amusing to a fault. He is sweet, loyal, and kind. But also ruthless if he needs to be. His only fault is that he is a dwarf, and that is what I have been fighting with my family about since he was born."
Dany swallowed. "Tyrion is all of those things. But it is not his appearance which gives me pause. I have entered Westeros free of lovers by choice. I may need to make alliances via marriage…"
"You had a lover?"
"I did," she raised her chin.
"And you left him in Meereen?"
"Yes."
"And was this your own decision?"
"I always make my own decisions."
He smiled. "Of course you do. What I mean to say is, was it your idea?"
Dany's back slacked and she dropped her eyes. "It was not."
"No. It was Tyrion's."
She looked at him and nodded.
"Your Grace, I believe that my brother may be in love with you," and Jamie poured them both wine. "Now, you can choose to do nothing about this, as most in your position would. Or, you can dismiss him," he sipped.
"Why would I do such a thing?"
"Because who wants a dwarf as a Hand running about pining after his Queen?"
"Tyrion does not 'pine away' for me," and she drank the whole of her wine.
"Perhaps not," he considered her. "Why are you here?"
"I promised to speak with you."
"About my brother?"
"No. About what I am to do with you."
"What did Tyrion recommend?"
"That you swear me your sword and retire to Casterly Rock."
Jamie smiled. "Ah…I see. So. Since you have conflicting feelings for my brother, you are here to give him what he wants. Me, on house arrest, in Casterly Rock."
Dany was astounded by this man. The Lannister's surely produced interesting children. "What do you know of his marriage to Sansa Stark?"
He looked crookedly at her. "Not much."
"Was it loveless?"
"I would think so. He was in love with that whore at the time."
She swallowed and nodded.
"Are you jealous?" he whispered.
"No. I'm curios," she lied.
"Of course you are."
Dany smiled. "I think that I'll keep you here for a bit."
"Will you," he stated.
"Yes. In fact, I think that I would like for you to aid us in the north."
"You forget that I am a dangerous person. I killed…"
"I know who you killed and why," she dismissed. "And that sort of ruthlessness is valuable in battle. What's more, I understand that you are a great military leader."
Jamie said nothing.
"Yes. So, I'll keep you here for the time being. We will put your house arrest under review in a month's time," she stood. "Good evening, Jamie."
He stood awkwardly, and nodded.
Dany turned, and as she did, heard him ask her…"Do you love him, Your Grace?"
She stopped. "I don't know," she replied softly, and she left.
She retuned to her rooms, and found her dinner still warm. She wished that there was a way for her to discover her feelings without the burden of rule…
For she felt as though anything she felt or did would impact many, many others.
And this, she felt was understandable, yet exceedingly unfair.
She knew that she cared for him…more than almost anyone…
She knew that she had loved Drogo, and that this felt nothing like that.
Dany sat and sipped her soup.
She needed to do so much as Queen right now! Get King's Landing in order…help the Realm prepare for the winter which was already blowing its winds…fight an army of undead…
And all she could think about at present was a dwarf, her Hand, who had undeniably won her affection in a way that no one had heretofore.
She merely needed to discern how deep this affection was.
