Tyrion
Despite the quality of the carriages of the North, the ride to Winterfell was a very pleasant one. The roads were fair and the snowfall was light. However, there were times during the nights that some of the Dothraki grew colder than everyone else since they've never seen snow before or felt its effects. However, this only prompted them to go on a hunt and catch better game for the fur. They even succeeded in killing a brown bear near the Kingsroad. Unfortunately, one of the Dothraki went missing and couldn't be found. During the search for him, some of the Dothraki searching for him thought they heard the sound of wolves howling far away from them.
Gendry seemed to be the best of company, since he tended to have more conversation than the others. Luckily, things got livelier when they regrouped with Varys and Missandei and their company at Castle Cerwyn. The rest of the way was sufferable, yet rather dull.
In his carriage, Tyrion rode with Varys and Missandei while the others rode on horseback as they were getting closer to Winterfell. They were currently discussing the topic of Tyrion proposing an armistice when they didn't even have a plan to secure their proof for one. "Even if you manage to even convince anyone to agree to this," Varys said, "how do you even plan on securing a dead soldier?"
"The convincing will be they easy part, given that we'll need the rest of the Dothraki and the Unsullied to even stand a chance. But if the other lords of Westeros realize what the true threat is, they might even give us their support as well, making the fight even easier for us. Not only that, but it will show true unity of the Seven Kingdoms, hopefully winning over some allies in the war after with Cersei." Tyrion had to settle for Northern Ale rather than wine, but he seemed to enjoy it more. He took a long swig of it from his leather pouch, trying to get drunk to ease his mind of the problems he had to solve. "As far as how, I'm afraid someone else is going to have to figure that out. The plan I have is fairly simple. Go north of the Wall and capture one soldier. As for who will do it and how, I have no idea."
"Whoever it will be, they'll fair better with the help of the Wildings, though the mutual trust between them might be hostile if its someone with poor feelings toward the Wildlings. Perhaps a Ranger from the Wall might be best."
"Whoever it is, we can discuss it with when we get to Winterfell. I'm sure the King will know of who trust the Wildlings and who the Wildlings trust."
"The King?" Missandei asked. "Jon Snow was successful taking back the crown of the North?"
Varys grew a sly smirk. "Oh, my dear lady, he's down far more than reclaim the North. As it stands, he's even won the heart of our Queen and plans to take the Iron Throne with her after we're through in the North."
"He did?" Tyrion asked, wide eyed and delighted. Missandei looked down to her feet, attempting to hide her smile. He laughed as he took another drink from his pouch. "As I've said countless times before, he's the greatest bastard of them all."
"My dear friend, it turns out he was never a bastard to begin with." Tyrion and Missandei both looked at Varys at the same time, confused. "My birds have sung to me a very fascinating song about a prince who ran away with his true love, and I think you'll find it most amazing." Before he could convey his information, there was a knocking on the left side window of the carriage. Tyrion, being closest to it, undid the locking mechanism and opened it. The knocker was Gendry, and he looked very interested in the conversation.
"Can you talk louder?" He asked. "This is getting interesting and I can't hear very well and neither can Davos."
Davos was riding next to Gendry and sighed, "That was the point so they wouldn't know we were listening."
"It's quite alright," Varys told them, "all of the Lords of the North know and already word is spreading fast of the truth."
"What truth?" Davos asked. Varys told them everything he knew about Jon's revelation and all that led up to it and the demise of Petyr Baelish.
"I see," Tyrion said, "Ned Stark had to so that the great King Robert wouldn't have another innocent babe killed. Though I must say, even if he did know but didn't care, my father wouldn't've let that slide."
"Well then it's a good thing he's dead," Gendry said.
"Forgive me, but what was your name again?" Varys asked.
Before Gendry could tell him, Davos answered instead. "His name's Clovis. He's a smith whose goin to work at the Winterfell forges."
"I thought you said his name was Gendry." Tyrion asked, suspicious.
"Gendry," Varys said, intrigued. "You wouldn't happen to be a bastard, would you? Specifically, Robert Baratheon's?" Tyrion choked on his ale, spilling some of it down his cheeks. Gendry didn't say anything, he only nodded. "Well now, that is remarkable. It seems bastards this day and age are reaching new heights. Fate and destiny are either playing a game of their own or just letting the pieces fall wherever they wish. If my memory serves me right, which it does, you were an apprentice to Tobho Mott."
"I was, before the queen had him executed." Gendry confirmed.
"Yes, for accepting a job in Winterfell."
"How'd you know all this?" Gendry asked, fascinated.
"I make it my job to know as much as I can about everything and everyone. I know all about you and your journey with the Night's Watch and your capture. Although after that, you just went missing. But, what amazes me most is the space you'll be filling for your master at Winterfell."
"The only thing he ever told me was that he would make history. Davos said it was something about making weapons from rocks called dragonass."
"Dragonglass." Tyrion corrected, chuckling.
"My boy, it is much more than that. Not too long ago, a man from the Citadel arrived at Winterfell with the evidence of Rhaegar and Lyanna's marriage, but it wasn't the only thing he brought. Supposedly, he also uncovered the secret to creating Valyrian Steel."
"Is he a bastard as well?" Tyrion asked.
"Not this time, but that doesn't seem to stop him from amazing me. He's a brother of the Night's Watch and the stories about him are quite remarkable. He ranged North with Jeor Mormont, he let Brandon Stark through the Wall, and he even cured our Ser Jorah of his Greyscale when the Arch Maester forbade it." Varys's moment of admiration was ended abruptly. "The only thing that troubles me is his name."
"If he's not a bastard, I can't see why it would trouble you."
"He's actually the son of a certain lord our Queen executed at the Blackwater Rush. His name is Samwell Tarly."
Tyrion didn't say anything, he only felt distressed. 'Of all the people in the world, it had to a fucking Tarly.' "And he's at Winterfell, right now, with the Queen?"
"See for yourself," Gendry said from outside. "The Castle's just up ahead." Tyrion stuck his head out the window and looked outside. Winterfell was in the distance and he could see the not just the queen's dragons, but Jon's as well, flying in the skies above the castle.
As the convoy entered through the gates, the carriage stopped finally and Tyrion stood up, stretching before he put on his fur cloak. "Well, we're about to take the next steps to our deaths or to our victory." The door opened and Tyrion stepped outside, followed by Missandei and then Varys. The cold instantly hit Tyrion's face as he set foot in the muddy snow. Outside of the carriage, there stood all of the Stark children, except for Bran who sat in his chair obviously. Next to them was Jon and Daenerys, both looking happy to see them. "My queen, and soon to be my king," Tyrion curled his lips when Jon looked directly at him. "I can't express the joy I have for you two. I'm glad I could get here before I could miss such a joyous union."
"Lord Tyrion," Jon stepped forward, offering his hand for a shake, "it's good to see again." As Tyrion accepted his hand, his eyes fell on Sansa. "My dear wife," he joked, "I'm glad you made home away from my sister."
"Lord Tyrion," Sansa gave a curtsey and wore an amused smile, "I'm glad your travels were safe."
"For me yes, for one of the men, no." He turned his gaze to Daenerys. "One of the Dothraki went missing during a hunt and we couldn't find any trace of him. The snows covered his tracks."
"Did everyone else make it back from Dragonstone safely?" Daenerys asked.
"We did your grace, and I have news from King's Landing. I can explain further in our next war council."
"That won't be until later today," Jon informed. "For now, let's get you unsettled and into your rooms."
"Arry!" Gendry said from behind Tyrion. He walked past him straight towards Arya Stark. "I can't believe you're still alive!"
The instant he got close to her, she gave him a tight hug, but sounded angry with him. "You Arse! I thought the red witch killed you!"
The only person Tyrion could think of that could fir the description of a red witch was Melisandre. "Arse? That's not how a lady should talk." Gendry chuckled as she pushed him away from her. "Ow, that was not very lady like." She drew her small sword and poked the tip at Gendry's tunic.
"For the last time, I'm not a lady."
"Sorry," he told her, "but anyone can point a sword at someone, even a lady."
"I wouldn't test her," Jon said to Gendry as he approached him. "She's probably the second-best fighter in this castle."
The young Stark girl sheathed her sword, looking doubtful at Jon. "Second best?"
Jon didn't say anything, he only smirked at her. He faced Gendry and offered his hand to him. "I'm Jon Snow, and you are?"
"Name's Gendry, milord. I'm Robert Baratheon's son, bastard son that is." This caught the attention of everyone who heard it, but it was as if he was trying to make sure as many who could hear it heard it since almost everyone around them did.
'You fucking idiot! Do you not know whose father yours killed?' Tyrion thought as he tensed up.
"What?" Arya asked. "When did you learn this?"
"When the Brotherhood sold me to the red woman."
Jon looked more nervous than anyone else. "I mean no offence, but information like that isn't best to be paraded around. There's quite a lot of bad history with Robert Baratheon and the Targaryens." Tyrion noticed Jon trying to keep Daenerys at bay.
"I know that my father was friends with yours, why can't we be?"
"Friends? Your father killed mine in battle." Jon didn't sound angry or offended, in fact it felt as if he was trying to keep the situation calm about this.
"But Eddard Stark was the one who raised you since you born wasn't he? If that's not a father, I don't know what is. I admit, I never met mine or even seen him, but I don't have anyone to call that, so I'll take what I can get."
"Your grace," Tyrion cut in, "I do admit that this is rather unexpected and poor timed. However, given that boy is the last surviving Baratheon in the world, I do believe that this presents the perfect opportunity to restart the relationships and the peace that once existed between the Baratheons and the Targaryens. The lords of the North are giving you the chance to prove that you aren't your father, I see no reason to give the boy the same chance."
"Jon," Arya, "if you don't, I'll prove to everyone here and now who the 'real' best fighter is." As humorous as it sounded, Tyrion knew the girl was being dead serious.
"You know him?" Jon asked.
"We traveled together with the Night's Watch leaving King's Landing. We were captured together by the Lannister men and taken to Harrenhal. And then we escaped together before getting captured by the Brotherhood without Banners. They sold him to a red witch."
"Ser Davos was the one who freed me," Gendry told them. "With nowhere else to go, I went back to Kings Landing."
"I brought here since we need all the help we can get." Ser Davos told them. "And as an added bonus, he's learned the art of reworking Valyrian steel. I skill I hear that you're in need of."
"My lords, my ladies," Tyrion interrupted, "as much as I'd like for this conversation to continue, may we do so indoors? I fear if I get any colder, I'll have to toss myself into Wildfire to warm up."
With the awkward introductions out of the way, the Meeting in the Great Hall with Tyrion, Jon, Daenerys, the Starks, Gendry per Arya's request, Ser Davos, Jorah, Varys, Missandei, and Brienne of Tarth. The High Table was moved to the center of the Great Hall and everyone took a seat around it. Tyrion told them all of his meeting with his brother and his plan to set up a meeting for an armistice with Cersei while they deal the dead.
"It won't work." Sansa objected. "Even if you could set up a meeting with Cersei, there's no way she wouldn't turn it into a trap."
"Which is why if something were to happen to us, then King's Landing would be sacked by over a hundred thousand soldiers and she would be burned by the rage of the dragons." Tyrion had thought this out carefully on the ride to Winterfell, but he was drunk for most of it. "We need to bring the Essosi Armies to the North and what remains of the Dornish and Reach armies."
"But first we need a wight." Jon reminded. "If we can get ahold of a soldier and present it to the rest of Westeros, they'll see the larger threat and hopefully put oaths aside."
"Not only that, but seeing the dead man might scare the Golden Company out of the way, guaranteeing safe passage from the south."
"Now all that remains is who is going and where do they need to go?" Daenerys said. "If the Night King's Army is amassing to its full strength, then we can't send someone right towards it."
"We won't need to." Bran said. "The bulk of the army is gathering near Hardhome, but small squads of wights are brought to it often. We can intercept one of them."
"But where do we look? The lands beyond the Wall are massive and cold. We can't have anyone out there for weeks on end to find a single group."
"The answer to that is at Eastwatch in the Cold Cells." The cripple just stared out to the distance as he usually did. To be honest, Tyrion felt like he was a talking statue. A wonderous thing, but unnerving.
"I'm not sure I understand," Tyrion told him, "but I doubt anyone does when you tell them things of that nature, no offence."
"None taken."
"Now for the hard part, who wants to go hunt a blue-eyed corpse?"
There was a long sullen silence after those cold words were asked. Everyone knew that no matter who went, someone was going to die. "With the Queen's permission, I'll go." Jorah said, breaking the tension. Daenerys wanted to object, but he wouldn't allow her. "You asked me to find a cure so that I could serve you, allow me to serve you."
"The Free Folk will help us," Jon informed. "they know they north better than anyone else."
"They won't follow Ser Jorah." Davos stated.
"They won't have to." All heads turned to Jon, unbelieved that he was volunteering.
"You can't lead a raid beyond the Wall." Davos countered. "You're not in the Night's Watch anymore, you're the King!"
"I'm the only one here who's fought them, I'm the only one here who knows how they kill." There was a silence of doubt among everyone present. "We all know this is going to be our only chance to seize an opportunity like this. If this does work, and the Realms truly band together to fight for an actual cause, then maybe this will not only unite us, but it will show them that the lands we call home aren't just something to fight and die for, their something to live for."
"I would go with you," Gendry said, "but if I can rediscover Valyrian Steel, then I'll need all the time I can get."
"In that case," Arya said, "we'll send someone who already has Valyrian Steel."
"My lady" Brienne objected, "you are an amazing fighter and no one will argue, but as your sworn shield I cannot allow you to go north of the Wall."
"They'll need fighters as much as hunters." Arya began to grow irritated. She felt like everyone was treating her like a helpless girl.
"I must agree with Brienne on this," Jon said, "I won't let you go north. I'll lock you in a cell if I have to."
"You honestly think a cell will stop me?"
"No, I don't. But me asking because I don't think I could live watching you die and rise with cold blue eyes would." There was another painful silence. "Arya, if you were to become one of them, I don't think I could bring myself to put a blade in you, even if its to set you free of whatever spell is cast."
"In that case, I'll go." Brienne said. She looked right at Arya, "You still haven't reached further than a stalemate when we duel. And if me going keeps you here safe from the north, then I'll go." Arya still looked upset, but nodded in agreement.
"Then it's settled," Tyrion declared. "Ser Jorah Mormont, King Jon Snow, and Brienne of Tarth will bring back a dead man."
"I won't let you leave," Daenerys said to Jon, looking worried.
"Daenerys, I-" Jon was cut off by the boldness of the queen.
"Not until we're married and I know for sure that there's no way you'd allow yourself be killed."
"Seven hells," Tyrion exclaimed, "I completely forgot to ask, but when is that?"
"Two days from now." Daenerys informed.
"I think that's just enough time to prepare for the expedition. Are there any objections?" No one seemed to be bothered, so everything was in order. "Wonderful. Now then, lets plan a wedding."