Part 34:

Tyrion watched as Rhaegal flew back into sight and landed near the camp. The dragon had been away for nearly a week and he suspected that she had been back to her nest to check on its precious content. As to where the nest was, or if it was the only nest, he could not say, even Jon had been unsure as to where exactly Rhaegel had taken them that day. It was over two months since Rahegal had urged Jon, Gendry, and then Tyrion himself onto her back and flown north and west. Tyrion had still believed that Rhaegal was male then.

She had taken them high into the northern mountains, south of the gift, into a part so steep and treacherous that even the brave hill tribes didn't go near it. Tyrion knew for sure that if the dragon chose to leave them there he would never get off of the mountain alive. Jon and Gendry might though. Rhaegel had taken them into a hidden cave, its opening covered by foliage, and led them to her nest. There were over a dozen dragon eggs in to of various colours. The three men had marvelled at the eggs, and at the dragon herself, they had decided that the eggs were safest there and agreed not to talk to anybody about them for now, not even Sansa and Arya.

"What if somebody finds the cave?" Gendry had asked in concern.

Tyrion had laughed. "I don't even see a Wull or a Flint making their way here." He had replied with confidence.

"Don't underestimate the First Flint's." Jon had muttered quietly. "There is a journal in the Winterfell library that proves they were the Flint's of Breakstone Hill, they were kings once, before the Kings of Winter defeated them and drove them into the mountains… my great grandmother was a Flint."

Tyrion had turned to Jon in curiosity, the tone of his voice suggested that there was something more to his comment than just stating family lineage. He arched an eyebrow at the much taller man and waited but Jon said no more. Tyrion's curiosity was more than sparked now so he pressed the matter. "What was her name?"

Jon smirked as he gave the one word reply. "Arya."

Tyrion had rolled his eyes. "Well that explains everything." He'd muttered.

"Actually, it almost does." Jon had countered. "Between the wolf-blood and the wild Flint's Arya never had a chance, old Nan aways said the reason Bran couldn't stop climbing was because of the Flint in his blood."

"Sansa…" Tyrion started to argue.

"Is her mother's daughter." Jon finished. "It's said my grandmother, Lyarra, was much like Arya is… and my own mother wasn't exactly one for doing as she was told, was she?" Suddenly the sadness was back in Jon's eyes.

Tyrion felt for Jon, the truth of his identity had hit him hard, but at least he was starting to embrace it. Had this mess all started with a wild Flint? No, Tyrion didn't believe so, he believed Prince Rhaegar had much to answer for, and he had told Jon as much.

They had talked for a couple of hours, sitting in a nest of dragon eggs with a dragon watching over them. Tyrion had many questions for Gendry, and a lot of respect for the honesty in how he answered them. By the time they were ready to return to Winterfell they had come to the conclusion that the Iron Throne had to be destroyed and they had to find a new way to make things work. Tyrion had cautioned against just removing a system without a new system to replace it, he had witnessed the cost of such short-sightedness in Meereen. It had been with some surprise and much relief that he had discovered that the Stark sisters agreed… although he did not trust that Daenerys was really on board with the plan. She was a conquer, and cunning, he was certain that she was just biding her time.

He watched her now as she approached Rhaegal, she was trying so hard to get her remaining dragon back under control. He didn't like that, and he didn't like that Jon stood back and let her approach the dragon first. Jon so desperately wanted a family that he would sacrifice them all trying to get it, the sooner that baby was born the better. Tyrion sighed, it appeared that as always it would be left to him to stop the impending disaster.

Later than night, when most of the camp was asleep, Tyrion slipped out of his tent with a pouch of wine and quietly made his way towards Rhaegal. He approached her cautiously, as he always did. For maybe an hour he did little more than stroke her. Then he curled up beside her and unstopped his wine. "Okay girl, we need to talk."

A frowning Daenerys and a smirking Jon found him curled up beside Rhaegal in the morning. Jon sat down beside him, oblivious to the daggers in Daenerys' eyes…

~~/~~

"Fear cuts deeper than a sword." Arya mulled those words over as she slowly made her way back to her and Gendry's rooms. She ran her conversation with the Maester over in her head again.

"This fever should have killed you months ago." The Maester had said quietly. "But clearly it hasn't, which means your condition is beyond the skills of my learning."

Arya shook her head. "But am I pregnant?" She'd asked.

"I honestly don't know." The Maester had replied. "Your body is under a lot of stress, that, and your fever, could be enough reason to miss your blood. You say you haven't had it in three moons, yes?"

"Yes." Arya had replied quietly.

"If you are pregnant, this fever could harm the baby's brain, or even cause it to be deformed, this fever should have cooked your brain by now." The Maester had cautioned.

"But it hasn't." Arya replied quietly.

The Maester had given her a sad smile. "As I said, your condition is beyond my skills of learning. Common sense says you need the aid of Archmaester Ebrose, although I suspect your aliment to be unnatural, in which case Archmaester Marwyn would be your best hope. Either way, short of going to Oldtown you will find no answers. I can write to them on your behalf, but Marwyn's sanity is questionable these days and Ebrose is a very busy man."

Arya had thanked him and excused himself. She had been given many reasons to fear over the years but the idea that she might be pregnant, and that if she was pregnant her fever may be harming the child, scared her more than anything. Gods! She just wanted this all to be over! Maybe she should just drink some moon tea to be safe and move on? But even as she thought it she knew that if she was pregnant she wanted the child. Gendry's child…

She was relieved that Gendry wasn't at their rooms when she got there, she wasn't ready to talk about this with him yet. It was only early afternoon but she suddenly felt very tired, and very confused. She curled up on their bed and cried herself to sleep. She woke up hours later to find that it was dark and Gendry was laying quietly beside her, watching her sleep.

"Hey." She said quietly.

"Hey." He replied, the ever present concern clear in his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Arya sighed. "Well I talked to the Maester today… he doesn't know how I'm even alive so that wasn't very reassuring." Gendry nodded and waited. She took a deep breath. "He also couldn't confirm if I am pregnant or not."

Gendry watched her carefully and kept his expression guarded. "Do you think you're pregnant?" He asked softly.

"I… I haven't had my blood in three moons, but that could just be because of the fever." Arya replied.

"Do you want to be pregnant?" Gendry asked, his expression still guarded.

Arya took his hand and placed it on her stomach. "I couldn't think of anything scarier." She replied quietly. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be a good mother, but… you would be an amazing father, so I guess that would help."

"Arya…" Gendry whispered softly.

"How often do I admit that I'm scared?" She replied.

"Not very often." Gendry replied softly. "But I think you'd make a great mother." He dropped a kiss on her lips and changed the subject. "Are you hungry?"

Arya laughed. "When do I say no to food?"

Gendry nodded. "Good, I'll send for some food, there's some things we need to discuss, there was a message from Jon, they are almost in position. We move out in the morning."

~~/~~