A/N - So this story takes place at the end of season 8 with a couple of minor changes. Please be warned some of the characters may not be their usual self at first, but I'm trying to build this on how I think they would handle the events of the last season. Enjoy!


Rise & Fall

Chapter 1

"All Hail Bran the Broken, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm" announced Tyrion, the other lords and ladies echoing his own voice

It was the right choice; Tyrion was certain of that as he stood awaiting his fate. He let his head hang low as the new King considered what to do with him. This was his own fault; the deaths of all those innocent people because he hadn't been able to stop Daenerys from slaughtering them.

"You have a King now. What will you do with this traitor?" asked Grey Worm, cold eyes staring at the new King

"Return Lord Tyrion to his cell. I will make my decision soon enough" said Bran, no hint of emotion in his voice

Grey Worm grabbed Tyrion's shoulder digging his fingers in hard as he led him away from the meeting and back towards the cold cell he had spent the past few weeks in. "Come" hissed Grey Worm, face tightening in displeasure "you will face justice eventually"

Tyrion didn't respond as he shuffled along, chains clinking as he moved. The meeting in the dragon pit had given him a chance to get some fresh air, but even as the sun warmed his back Tyrion found it didn't give him any pleasure. Why didn't they just execute him and be done with it? Given the way Grey Worm kept flexing his fingers he would have happily ended Tyrion's life then and there. But Grey Worm was a soldier first and foremost, and they soon arrived at the dirty, dark room that had been Tyrion's home for the past few weeks. The unsullied leader grabbed the back of Tyrion's shirt shoving him in the room.

"Get in" he ordered, slamming the door shut and extinguishing most of the light in the room.

His prison was just below ground level and a tiny piece of daylight filtered through a grate in the top right wall - for weeks it had been the only light he had seen. Slowly, Tyrion stumbled towards the pile of rags he'd been left to sleep on, immediately lying down and curling in on himself. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He'd let himself believe in Daenerys; wanted so desperately for her to be the righteous, caring ruler Westeros needed but now she was dead and he would soon follow. It was all he deserved. He had been wrong about so many things, and made terrible mistakes that had cost innocent people their lives.

Tyrion lay there, staring at nothing as the coldness of his cell quickly stole the warmth from him. What had become of Jon Snow? It wasn't long after they had talked that news spread that Daenerys was dead and Tyrion had hated himself for his part in it. Jon Snow was a good man, and Tyrion had known he would make the honourable choice with a little prompting. Was he awaiting his execution too? Tyrion wanted so desperately to change what had happened. Not long after Daenerys death Grey Worm had come to his cell and Tyrion had pleaded with him to understand, but the unsullied leader had lifted him clear off the ground and slammed him into the wall.

"Traitor!" he had roared, hands trembling as he glared at Tyrion. There were no traces of warmth or friendship in his eyes as Tyrion had tried to defend his actions.

"I'll hear no more from you" he snapped, cutting off Tyrion with a punch to his face "You will die for this"

His former friend had dropped him in a heap on the ground as he left the cell, slamming the door with finality. Tyrion's head had throbbed and the skin above his eye was split from the blow, blood trickling down his face and mixing with tears. He had thought Grey Worm was a friend, and would at least hear him out but there had been no shred of sympathy in the man's eyes. Tyrion was the enemy, and he didn't doubt the rest of Westeros felt the same.

Tyrion had cried that night, for the first time in many years. All the cruelty, the pain and humiliation he had suffered through finally caught up with him and now there was truly no-one left who cared for him. He missed Jamie. Every time he was unfortunate enough to fall asleep he relived finding the bodies of Jamie and Cersei. Tyrion had cried until he was empty and hadn't shed a tear since. The days had passed and the signs of his imprisonment had begun to show in his scruffy beard, tangled hair and the layer of dirt that coated him.

When Grey Worm had come for him today, Tyrion had said nothing. He had expected to be walking to his execution not to help decide the future of Westeros. Sansa had won independence for the North; she had looked every bit the Queen of ice at the meeting. She was so different to the scared girl trying to survive in Kings Landing all those years ago. Now she was a ruler; a player in the Game of Thrones and Tyrion hoped she would find happiness now. She deserved it after all the horrors she'd endured.

Tyrion stared at the wall in front of him. He had no desire to do anything except wait for death. It wouldn't be long now and there was no-one left to miss him anyway.


Sansa remained in Kings Landing for two days following Bran being declared King. Most of that time had been spent deciding the fate of Jon Snow. Sansa wasn't pleased, but Jon would spend the rest of his life in the nights watch. Arya hadn't been happy either, but at least Jon would be able to go North with his wildling friends and hopefully find some joy.

Now, Sansa sat waiting with the lords and ladies of Westeros as Tyrion Lannister was brought to them for sentencing. They had moved into what remained of the throne room and Brans wheelchair was placed in front of the melted Iron Throne. Sansa sat along from her brother as did Arya and representatives of the other great houses as Tyrion was led in. Her former husband was barely recognisable as he shuffled into the room. His head was a mass of tangled hair and he looked gaunt; not at all like the charming Tyrion who had tried to help her all those years ago. His chained hands hung loosely before him and he didn't bother to raise his head as Bran delivered the sentence.

"Tyrion Lannister" began Bran, voice carrying across the destroyed throne room "for your role in supporting Daenerys Targaryen you are hereby stripped of all land and titles and are banished from the six kingdoms of Westeros"

Sansa watched Tyrion closely but he gave no indication he'd heard and continued to stare at his feet. Bran was also studying the dwarf closely as he finished his ruling.

"Sansa Stark has requested custody of you, and she will decide your fate. You are to remain in your cell until you leave"

Sansa held her head high as Tyrion tilted his head to one side, looking up at her. Deciding what to do with Tyrion had been difficult. Most of the houses had wanted to execute him and be done with it. A few including Ser Davos had defended him, saying in the end he had made the right choice. Sansa knew Bran had his own ideas for Tyrion's fate, but she had asked her brother to give Tyrion to her. She nodded crisply to him, and he dropped his gaze.

"This man deserves death" cut in Grey Worm, baring his teeth.

"He deserves justice" countered King Bran "and he just got it. Tyrion will spend the rest of his life in the North"

Grey Worm looked ready to argue, but instead turned to Tyrion "I should have killed you when we met"

Sansa saw Tyrion flinch as the unsullied leader stormed past him and out the doors. He seemed to shrink in on himself, and Sansa swallowed uncomfortably. This wasn't the Tyrion she knew. It didn't matter though; Sansa had gotten what she wanted. He would come North with them and Sansa could continue to rebuild the North.

"Bring Tyrion back to his cell, I will send for him when it is time to leave" said Sansa, voice echoing through the damaged hall. Two unsullied soldiers moved either side of Tyrion and he obediently made his way out of the ruined hall.

"Are you sure about this?" muttered Arya, leaning over to her

"Of course I am. Why?"

Arya shrugged "Thought he'd be more excited to keep his head"

Sansa had thought the same, but decided not to focus on it. "I need to go North today and put things in place"

"Your crown, you mean?"

Sansa's eyes narrowed "There is a Kingdom that needs to find a leader. There is damage from the long night that needs repairing. Food and shelter must be arranged-"

"and you'll be Queen in the North making all the decisions" said Arya, rolling her eyes

Sansa took a deep breath before replying "That's not been decided"

"Yes, it has. Why do you want Tyrion?"

The other lords and ladies were making their way out of the hall now. Broken debris littered the area still and clean-up efforts would undoubtedly take a long time. Sansa shifted in her seat, glancing around to find Brans emotionless eyes fixed on her as Ser Davos spoke to him.

"Just bring him to Winterfell" Sansa answered, standing from her chair "When will you leave?"

Arya leaned back in her chair, eyes studying Sansa "Three days. Gives me time to make sure Bran will be ok without us and help out with the clean-up effort"

Sansa nodded her assent and strode down the steps as her sisters voice called to her "I hope you know what you're doing Sansa"

As Sansa's footsteps echoed across the dirt covered floor, a slither of doubt wormed its way into her mind as she recalled her conversation with Bran. Was she doing the right thing? Sansa shook her head clearing the thoughts, the North needed a ruler and she couldn't afford uncertainty.