Tyrion

The last thing that Tyrion had expected to encounter in Dorne was snow. But there it was, softly floating down from a sky covered by light grey clouds that the red light of a comet bleed through. The snow had only started to fall as they came within a league of port, yet still it had managed to coat the deck in a blanket half an inch thick by the time they pulled up alongside one of the many wooden piers jutting out of the Sunspear coastline. On the main deck, sailors took brooms in hand to sweep the blanket to under the rails and into the water. They'd almost never come to Dorne. Originally, Daenerys had it set in her mind to make for Dragonstone. Tyrion remembered the day that had been changed.

Tyrion's stomach had been bad the entire voyage, bringing up the his lunch more days than not. On that particular day, Varys had sat across from Tyrion with his arms hidden in his sleeve and a blank face. Tyrion looked up at his eunuch friend as the last remnants of vomit dripped from his beard. "Stop looking at me like that," Tyrion told him, groggy.

"Looking at you how?" Varys asked. "I'm merely observing a dwarf losing his lunch."

"I think you and I can both agree you're looking at me with disapproval."

"Really? I thought my face was completely neutral."

"It wasn't your face, it was your eyes."

"Tell me, how does one trust another's eyes to relibly inform of a state of mind if the rest of the face is completely neutral."

"You've always disapproved of my vomiting."

"Not at all. Unfortunately not everyone has a stomach for sailing. I too had that problem for a time."

"But you don't anymore."

"Evidently not. I also wonder why you are vomiting now when didn't on your way to Pentos."

"I was in a crate where I could not judge the motion of the boat."

"And you hadn't been drinking wine."

"I'm not going to stop drinking wine."

"Then enjoy vomiting."

The voyage from Mereen had been miserable. A month of vomiting and suffering the stench of horse manure. He'd been pleased when Varys came upon them when they stopped in Lys the day piror. The eunuch sailed back from Dorne to bring news that Olenna Tyrell & Ellaria Sand had agreed to offer there resources to Daenerys' course to retake her rightful throne. The fleet from Mereen was on the final stetch toward Westeros.

"When is our Queen going to discuss where to land in Westeros?" Varys asked.

"She was dead set on Dragonstone, last I asked her. Wants to echo Aegon the Conqueror I'd imagine."

"We'd be at the mouth of Blackwater Bay if we land Dragonstone. For all we know Cersei's captured the fortress."

"Go tell her that."

The eunuch stood and moved toward the cabin door. Tyrion placed his bucket on the floor and waddled after Varys. If Daenerys was going to be convinced to land somewhere other than Dragonstone, she would need her Hand there to advise her. The cabin door opened onto the main deck. The wind filled the black sail bearing the red, three-headed Targaryen dragon. Clouds of white and light grey were scattered or clumped together, decorating the sky. The salty air filled Tyrion's lungs as he followed Varys along the deck. He imagined that he looked like a baby duckling following his mother then banished the thought from his mind after the embarrassment began to creep in. The pair ascended the stairs up to the forecastle. Daenerys stood next to the figure head, wearing a thick, black leather dress that stopped the wind from chilling her. She leaned against the rail, looking off into the distance, loose strands of silver hair dancing on the breeze.

"My Queen," Varys said to catch Daenerys' attention. She looked round. "I've come to ask where you plan to land when we reach Westeros."

"Dragonstone," Daenerys anwsered. "It's my family home and I was born there. I can think of no better place to begin my retaking of Westeros."

"I appreciate the sentiment, My Queen, but may I suggest a different place to land?"

"By all means Lord Varys."

"Sunspear. It is closer, meaning less time at sea. It is also in Dorne. As you know, before I left to join you here on the sea, Ellaria Sand was preparing the Dornish armies to fight for you and Olenna Tyrell had sent for some of her banners in the Reach to travel south so that when you arrive you could strike out with a much stronger force."

"But Dragonstone is my home."

"Yes, My Queen. I appreciate you want to return home, but we will have to travel past the Stepstones and two thirds of the Narrow Sea. Not only that, it lies just outside Blackwater Bay. We could get attacked by whatever fleet Cersei has avalible to her. We could arrive to find the fortress occupied and need to take it back."

"Then we'll take it back."

"Wasting good men and good ships that have guranteed safety if we land in Dorne."

"Tell me Lord Varys, why did you serve the Usurper Robert Baratheon?" That's strange, Tyrion thought. Why has she gone to that subject?

"I served him in order to survive Your Grace. I also needed to make sure I could manipulate the lords of Westeros into actions that would be best for the realm."

"And when he ordered my assassination, was that for the good of the realm?"

"I regret to admit it, Your Grace, but it was. You posed the threat of bringing an army to Westeros, led by Khal Drogo, that would see the common people suffer from the conflict. That was before you began to liberate slaves and before Joffrey Baratheon proved to be just as mad as your father." Tyrion could see that comment ruffled a feather.

"Was there anyone who spoke against my assasssination?"

"One person, Your Grace. Lord Eddard Stark."

"The man who helped the Usurper steal the throne? The one who's sister Rhaegar raped? What reason would he have to wish that I remained alive?"

"Honour, my Queen. It was Lord Eddard's strongest quality beside his love for his family. He did not want to let a child be killed."

"And you did. Perhaps I should find Lord Eddard's bones and ask him to advise me instead."

"I assure you, Your Grace, my loyalty to you is without question. When I heard of your liberating of slaves, I knew you would be a better ruler for the Seven Kingdoms than any of Robert's supposed children. And now Cersei is on the Iron Throne, the realm will suffer for it. The people will suffer for it. When they see you marching to liberate them from a Queen who thinks of them as a dog thinks of the fleas on his back, they will surely rally behind you. So please, land in Sunspear, combine your unsullied & dothraki with the armies of the Reach & Dorne, then travel up to the Boneway to strike out with the largest force you possibly can."

Daenerys looked down at Tyrion. "What do you think of this proposal, Lord Tyrion?"

"Lord Varys is right," Tyrion told her. "We should land in Sunspear. When I left Westeros Dragonstone had been abandoned and in that time anyone could have taken it. It would be a waste of time and resources to take an island that offers no strategic advance other than being close to King's Landing."

Daenerys smiled. "Very well, Lord Varys. I will order our fleet to land in Sunspear."

"Thank you, my Queen. I promise you this is the correct first move toward retaking the throne for your family."

Now'd they arrived in Dorne, with the snow falling on them, Tyrion stood beside Varys on the forecastle. "The Starks were always warning us. Winter has come and Dorne is no different," Tyrion said. It might not be the correct part of Westeros, but home is home. He smiled as three sets of great leather wings beat against the air, carrying Daenerys' dragons over the top of the boats. Tyrion spied three women on the end of their pier, dressed in many layers of sand-silk. He recalled the events that led to him leaving of Westeros in the first place. "I wonder what harsh words Ellaria Sand will say to me about the death of her lover," he thought aloud.

"I would expect they would be particularly harsh," Varys said. "When I mentioned you during my pitch to her to support Queen Daenerys, she did look particularly angry."

The pair heard two sets of footsteps walk up behind them. Looking round revealed them to belong to Daenerys & Missandei. The Dragon Queen wore a thick, woolen dress, coloured the dark blue of a deep ocean; her silver hair was in a braid flowing over her right shoulder. Missandei worn a simple black, woolen cloak. When they had stopped on Lys, Varys had told them them winter had hit Westeros. With that news, appropriate clothes were brought before they set off.

"It would seem that the desert sands have been replaced with snow," Daenerys said. "Tell me, how bad do winters get in Westeros?"

"It varies from winter to winter but talk was that this would be the coldest one in a long time," Tyrion replied.

Their ship had been the first to dock. The deck bustled with sailors preparing to move everything off of the boat. The Queen, her Hand, Missandei and Varys moved down the gangplank, onto the wooden pier. They followed it all the way to sandstone platform lining the edge of the water and were greeted by a company of twenty dornish soldiers as well as the three young women Tyrion had spied from the ship. All in the company wore sand silk, yellow & orange cloaks, boiled leather and mail. Going from left to right, the three young women were armed with a spear, a whip and knives; their hair styled in a low bun, a single braid and flowing freely to the bottom of the neck; all the colour black, fitting well with the olive colour of their skin.

"Welcome to Dorne, Your Grace," the one with the low bun greeted.

Varys took a step forward. Standing in-between the two groups, he introduced the three young women. "Your grace, may I introduced to you Obara Sand," he began, gesturing to the woman with the low bun, "Nymeria Sand and Tyene Sand." He pointed to the other two sequentially. "The Sand Snakes. Bastard daughters of Oberyn Martell."

All three of them laid their eyes on Tyrion. He replied immediately. "If am to be scolded for the recklessness of your father, I will receive it from Ellaria. I'm not in the mood to argue with three people at once. Take us to the palace before we freeze."

The three of them sneered at Tyrion before Nymeria looked to Daenerys. "Please follow us," the sand snake said.

The company of soldiers parted to allow the Sand Snakes, Daenerys, Tyrion, Varys and Missandei through before following behind with some unsullied & dothraki behind them. As they walked the streets of Sunspear, it became very clear to Tyrion that the city wasn't properly equipped to deal with snow: it was prevented from entering windows by makeshift shutters. He suspected that the occupants of these buildings had taken to lighting as many candles as they could. With no way to vent smoke, it'd be unwise for a braizer to be lit in doors, so in the communial areas they passed, families huddled round fires while wrapped in the thickest clothes & blankets they owned. A great deal of sympathy grew in Tyrion. Most of them have probably never seen snow and now they're having to quickly adapt to it.

Reaching the palace, it was one of the grandest buildings he'd ever seen. An impressive mixture of sandstone and marble, decorated with tile patterns on each of the walls & floors. It also proved to be just as ill equipped to deal with the current weather. The Sand Snakes ordered the company of soldiers to escort the unsullied & dothraki to the city barracks. From there, Tyrion, Daenerys, Missandei & Varys were escorted to a chamber where Ellaria Sand sat amoung many pillows on a long couch partnered with two others of the same length in a horseshoe layout around a large table. She wore a thick dress of many a shade of yellow & orange.

"Welcome to Dorne, Your Grace," Ellaria said as Daenerys passed underneath the arch of the chamber entrance. The Sand Snakes joined Ellaria, Obara placing her spear on the floor in front of the couch. "Please sit and drink. And apologies for the cold. We in Dorne are not used to snow." On one of the couches was also Olenna Tyrell.

As Tyrion sat on the opposite couch to the Tyrell matriarch, he commented, "A Tyrell in Dorne. Now that must mean the world is certainly ending."

"Japes are not welcome here, Lord Tyrion," Olenna replied as Varys joined her on the couch. Daenerys and Missandei joined Tyrion.

"The last time I remember seeing you," Tyrion began as he poured himself and Daenerys a cup of wine, "my nephew was dying at his wedding."

"And then you fled the punishment you were sentenced to."

"My brother and Lord Varys did not wish to see me dead for a crime I did not commit."

"We can discuss our pasts later," Daenerys interrupted. "The matter at hand is removing who sits on the Iron Throne and reclaiming it for its rightful owner."

"Indeed," Tyrion agreed. "But I think we should wait until Yara & Theon Greyjoy arrive. The last thing we want to do is plan our attack on King's Landing without our naval commanders present to lend there feedback."

"I agree," Varys said.

"Then let us talk about what to do with you, Lord Tyrion," Ellaria suggested.

"By all means," Tyrion replied eager to here whatever threats she had for him.

"Oberyn died because of you," Ellaria stated with venom in her voice.

"It was not my fault he did not deliver a killing blow."

"I should have your head to repay for his death."

Calmly Tyrion replied, "I am the hand of the Queen. By theatrening me, you have theatrened the Queen. Hold your tounge snake or I will have it cut out."

"Lord Tyrion!" Daenerys uttered with disgust. "I will not have you making threats to those who have allowed us into their home."

"She threatened my life. I merely threatened to remove her tounge. Last I checked, your Grace, it was much more harsh to take a life than one's ability to speak and taste food."

"None the less, you just threatened your host."

"Your Grace, while I admit it is not curtious to threaten one's host, my host had already threaten me. I simply balanced the scales." Tyrion placed his glass on the table and clapped once. "Now, it's been over a year since last I was in Westeros. I would quite like to know what state I've returned to find it in."

Olenna was the one to answer: "Cersei sits the Iron Throne having destroyed the Great Sept of Baelor and the suicide of your nephew Tommen." Tyrion felt tears prick his eyes, but didn't interrupt. "Destroying the Sept killed my son and grandchildren as well as your uncle, Ser Kevan. King's Landing is plagued by daily riots and the only kingdoms whoes loyalty to the Iron Throne is certain are the Westerlands & Riverlands. Walder Frey was recently murdered, along with most of House Frey after Arya Stark poisioned them."

"Arya Stark's alive!"

"That's what the new Lord of the Crossing is saying. Your brother Jaime is leading an army to the Riverlands to hunt her down. In the North, Winterfell as been taken from the Boltons by an alliance between northern houses and the Kinghts of the Vale. Lord Eddard's bastard has been named King in the North."

"Jon? He's a man of the Night's Watch. He can't wear a crown."

"Not anymore," Ellaria put in. "Rumours say that he was murdered by his own men and was ressurrected by that red priestess Stannis Baratheon was in bed with. As such, the heads of the northern houses consider him released from his Night's Watch vows."

Tyrion squinted, reached for his wine cup and swallowed. "What about Sansa Stark?" he asked, concerned. "Is there any word of her?"

"She is ruling the North beside her brother as a Princess."

"Sansa! Princess!" He laughed a hearty laugh. "And Jon Snow is King in the North. What better way to make my sister seeth!" Tyrion slapped his knee and laughed again, drinking as he did.

"He is Jon Stark now," Olenna put in. "Being named King legitimised him."

"Who is this Jon Stark?" Daenerys asked.

"Ned's Stark bastard son," Tyrion anwsered, "as Lady Olenna said. I befriended him when I ventured to the Wall."

"Another usurper originating from the North, how surpsrising," she said, before sipping her wine. There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Your Grace," Olenna said to catch Daenerys' attention. "Lord Tyrion's sister has been ruling terribly since sitting herself on the Iron Thone. She and her son Joffrey are the two people most responsible for the downfall of the Seven Kingdoms. Jon Snow's choice to make the North indepedent is a very wise decision on his part."

"And what has he done as King in the North?"

Ellaria answered: "Reports have come south that he has sent ever last ship from White Harbour to take Dragonstone. They are travelling down the eastern coast."

"So he plans to steal my ancesteral home," Daenerys stated. "I believe my first order to Yara & Theon will be to retake it."

"That would be unwise Your Grace," Tyrion advised.

"And why is that?"

"I do not believe Jon Snow..." He trailed off. "No, he's a Stark now. Gods, I'm going to need to get used to that." He sipped his wine. "Anyway, I do not believe Jon Stark would be stupid enough to send his entire fleet to take a single island that is so close to King's Landing without good reason."

"So you're suggesting I let him continue to occupy Dragonstone, which by rights should belong to me."

"I believe if we treat them well, Jon Stark and his sister could be valuable allies. He may even be a suitable suitor."

"Are you planning my marriage already?"

"Your Grace, the North has been famously isolated from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. The only reason Ned Stark came south is because Robert asked him to be his Hand. If you could win the King in the North as a husband, you would have gained the largest of the Seven Kingdoms as an ally. It is only beneficial to bring Jon Stark into the fold."

"And how do you expect him to react when offered a marriage proposal from the daughter of the man his father overthrew?" Olenna asked. "The sister of the man who kidnapped his aunt. The woman who's father burnt his grandfather and strangled his uncle."

"I am not my father and I am not my brother," Daenerys replied. "If this Jon Stark reacts badly to marriage proposal then I think we can arrange an alliance through some other means."

At this point Theon & Yara were shown into the chamber, dressed in grey breehces & tunics under chestplates lined with leather on the outside; krakens cut into the lining material. They placed themselves on the same couch as Varys & Olenna. Tyrion noticed Yara giving Ellaria an inviting look with an eager smile: a smile which was reciprocated.

"Ah," Tyrion exclaimed. "A full house. Now we can begin discussing our battle plans."

"What was being discussed before we got here?" Yara asked, her eyes not leaving Ellaria.

"Marriage proposals."

"For who to whom?"

"Her Grace and Jon Stark."

"Stark? Jon's a Stark now?" Theon said, confused. "He can't marry, he took the black."

"It would appear he hung up his black cloak and donned a crown instead. Jon has been named King in the North taken the Stark name because of it."

"Sansa got to him?"

Tyroin grew puzzeled. "Got to him? Were you with her before you came to Mereen?"

Shame grew on Theon's face before he answered. "After I took Winterfell, Ramsay Bolton kept me as a prisoner. I escaped alongside Sansa who had been married off to him."

"Married off. Who married her off?"

"Petyr Baelish."

"That bastard!" Anger filled Tyrion's voice. "Speak the rest of this tale, Greyjoy. I must know what has become of my wife."

"You were married to Sansa Stark?" Daenerys interrupted. "Then that means we already have an alliance with the North. Send a raven to her telling her to honour your union and bring the armies of the North south to aid us in taking King's Landing."

Tyrion shook his head. "I will not."

Her face grew stern. "That was an order Lord Tyrion."

"An order I'm refusing to follow. We should demand nothing of the North to allow our first impressions to be as positive as possible. The northerners don't like Targaryen much, as I'm sure you can understand. Besides, my marriage with Sansa wasn't consumated and forced upon us both. In the sight of Gods & men, such a marriage is hollow and was very clearly placed aside." He turned to Theon. "Continue Greyjoy."

"While she was married to Ramsay, he tortured Sansa, even forced me to watch him rape her. When Stannis Baratheon marched on Winterfell, the two of us escaped. We made north to try and reach Jon at the Wall but were come upon by Bolton men. We would have been taken back if not for a lady knight and her squire."

"What lady knight? Do you remember her name?" Theon shook his head. Olenna Tyrell rolled her eyes.

"Lord Tyrion," Olenna cut in. "We are not here for you to learn what happened to Sansa Stark, do that in your own time. We are here to discuss the march on King's Landing."

Tyrion composed himself, taking a sip of his wine. "My apologies. I am still concerned for her safety. She was a tender girl and the last thing I wanted was for her to come to harm. But it would seem Littlefinger saw to that." Tyrion finished his wine then poured another cup. "Now! To return to battle plans. What forces do we have?"

"Six thousand dornishmen are ready to move North," Ellaria answered.

"And I have ten thousand loyal bannermen waiting in Yronwood," Olenna followed.

"Seven thousand unsullied and fifty thousand dothraki riders," Missandie added.

"And all of our ships and sailors," Yara told him.

"Excellent," Tyrion exclaimed. "With three dragons added, we have a strong force indeed. We shouldn't need to use them to their full destructive potential if all goes well. Simply by keeping them visable to those manning the walls, we will successfully decrease their moral. We'll travel up the Boneway to Summerhall with all of our foot & horse. From there we'll travel through the Kingswood, preparing seige equipment while encamping. Meanwhile, the Greyjoys begin taking the ports on the north coast of the Sea of Dorne, Cape Wrath and Shipbreaker Bay, gathering more men and more ships as you go. From there make your way north past Massey's Hook and approach King's Landing via Blackwater Bay."

"Euron Greyjoy has delcared for Cersei," Ellaria told him. "News is he's building a thousand ships."

"Knowing him he'll betray her at some point," Yara replied. "If we move quickly, we might come upon him with his smallclothes down, then we'll be able to hammer him hard. If we don't, so long has he hasn't built many of those new ships, we should be able to win by pure numbers. We can take Dragonstone while passing by."

"No, no," Tyrion told him, after sipping his wine. "Northmen hold it and the last thing you want is to antagonise the North when they could be allies."

Yara looked to Daenerys. "Is this your order, Your Grace?" Tyrion turned his head and watched Daenerys softly nod. "Very well."

"It might be an idea to visit the island under a banner of peace and ask for aid."

"That won't happen," Theon stated with shame. "They still think I burned Bran and Rickon Stark when I took Winterfell. They'll never trust a Greyjoy."

Tyrion sighed. "Well that is a shame." He finished his wine and placed the glass down.

"We will come to lead the dornishmen," Obara said. "They trust us and we know them."

"And who will lead the Tyrell men?" Tyrion asked Olenna. "I don't imagine you'll be on horseback on the front line."

"Igon Vyrwel is the who I have given command of my forces. He waits in Yronwood with the men," Olenna answered. "He was Captain of the Guard at Highgarden. Meanwhile, I've left the castle with a deliberately small garrison and it worked exactly how I exepected it to."

"And how did you expect it to work?"

"It was bait for Cersei. She's sent a force to lay siege to the castle, most likely thinking that its vaults are full of food and gold she can use to survive winter. Little does she know that the food and gold I had stored was gradually sent to Old Oak, Brightwater Keep and Honeyholt. While Cersei's army wastes their time trying to starve out my garrison & hunting for Arya Stark in the Riverlands, King's Landing is weakened and will be easier to take."

"Excellent thinking, My Lady," Tyrion exclaimed. Olenna smiled.

"You are most welcome, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion moved on: "The unsullied will be led by Grey Worm and the dothraki will follow any order Her Grace gives them. "

"Very well," Daenerys followed. "This seems very simple."

"Yes," Tyrion agreed. "Surprisingly, when you put several smart people in a room together, they produce plans that are competent. But do not confuse simplicity with ease, Your Grace. We have a long journey from here to King's Landing with seventy three thousand men, a large navy and three dragons to take with us. Winter storms and snow will slow us. But, once we reach the city, I believe we will have a fighting chance."

And so the council dispanned. Lord Varys and Olenna Tyrell walked off together speaking in low voices. Yara got up and offered a hand to Ellaria which was accepted; the pair of them walked off. The Sand Snakes left through arch they entered, sneering at Tyrion as they passed. Daenerys and Missandie walked off together. Theon sat opposite Tyrion – timid & reserved.

"Tell me all you can about Sansa," Tyrion told Theon softly. Greyjoy oblieged: her arrivial at Winterfell, her wedding to Ramsay, the torture & rape and the escape from the caslte. "Thank you Greyjoy." Tyrion's tone was grateful. "She might not of loved me, but I still wish her some happiness for all Joffrey put her through. Bolton as well, it would seem." Theon nodded. "Now." Tyrion stood. "Before I leave Dorne, I must visit one of the brothles. I've never been to a dornish brothle. Will you join me? I remember your admiration for a good whore."

"I can't," Theon replied, chocking on his words. "Ramsay, g-gelded me."

Tyrion's expression dropped. He walked over to Theon and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "My apologies. Terrible thing to lose one's cock." Theon gave a soft nod and Tyrion left him be.