Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 39: Enemies become Friends
Alysanne's POV
I sat on the ebony bench looking down at Tyrion Lannister and Ser Jorah Mormont. The audience chamber was silent, the only sound that could be heard was breathing. The small council was called, as Daenerys and Ser Barristan stood behind me, while Missandei took the middle platform. On the bottom, the platform stood two Unsullied guards, while the two Westerosi stood on the ground.
So many emotions were thundering in me. Not only did Ser Jorah return bringing back the feelings I have for him and the pain of betrayal, but also this gift, Tyrion Lannister, the son of Tywin Lannister. The stories Viserys used to share of Tywin's deformed son was disappointing. I saw he is a short man, not some hideous beast. Either way, it doesn't take into account that this was my enemies' son. There were many options I could do to him. Make Tyrion my prisoner, torture him for information, or kill him. An eye for an eye, as his brother literally stabbed my father in the back.
"Your Grace, I want to say –" Jorah started.
"You will not speak," I silenced him, then focused on the dwarf. "How do I know you are who you say you are?"
"If only I were otherwise," the dwarf said.
"If you are Tyrion Lannister, why shouldn't I kill you to pay your family back for what it did to mine?" I asked.
"You want revenge against the Lannisters? I killed my mother Joanna Lannister on the day I was born. I killed my father Tywin Lannister with a bolt to the heart. I am the greatest Lannister killer of our time." The dwarf said.
I glanced at Ser Barristan who confirmed this man was Tyrion Lannister. Ser Barristan nodded, confirming this was indeed Tywin's son.
"So I should welcome you into my service because you murdered your own father?" I asked.
I do not hold people accountable for the death of mothers in the birthing bed. Giving birth is a high risk for every woman, no baby can be held responsible if there was a complication. My mother died on the birthing bed, and I don't hold Daenerys against her for it.
"Into your service?" Tyrion asked. "Your Grace, we have only just met. It's too soon to know if you deserve my service."
"If you'd rather return to the fighting pits, just say the word," I said, voice monotone.
Tyrion took a deep breath, "When I was a young man, I heard a story about two girls born in times of grief. The eldest, born after her father burned ten men alive on the paranoid belief, that they were conspiring to kill him. And the youngest, born during the worst storm in living memory. They had no wealth, no lands, no army, only a name and a handful of supporters, most of whom probably thought they could use that name to benefit themselves. They kept these girls alive, moving them from place to place, often hours ahead of the men who'd been sent to kill these girls. The eldest was soon married to her brother, while the youngest was eventually sold off to some warlord on the edge of the world and that appeared to be that. And then a few years later, the most well-informed person I knew told me that these girls without wealth, lands, or armies had somehow acquired all three in a very short span of time, along with three dragons. He thought they were our best last chance to build a better world. I thought you were worth meeting at the very least."
"And why are you worth meeting?" I asked. "Why should I spend my time listening to you?"
"Because you cannot build a better world on your own," Tyrion answered. "You have no one at your side who understands the land you want to rule."
"I have Ser Barristan," I reminded.
"But does he know the strengths and weaknesses of the houses that will either join or oppose you," Tyrion counter.
"We will have a very large army and very large dragons," Daenerys challenged.
"Killing and politics aren't always the same thing," Tyrion said. "When I served as Hand of the King, I did quite well with the latter considering the king in question preferred torturing animals to leading his people. I could do an even better job advising a ruler worth the name. If that is indeed what you are, Your Grace."
"So you want to advise me?" I asked.
This caught Tyrion off guard.
"Very well. What would you have me do with him?" I said, finally looking at Jorah. "I swore I will have him executed if he ever returned."
"I know," Tyrion said, walking up the steps.
The two Unsullied drew their spears, but I stopped them. They went back to attention. Tyrion nodded in approval as he stepped on the lower platform. Meanwhile, Jorah stood there, hands together, nervous as his eyes water. He knows that his life hangs in the balance.
"Why should the people trust a queen who can't keep her promises?" I asked.
"Whoever Ser Jorah was when he started informing on you, he is no longer that man. I can't remember ever seeing a sane man as devoted to anything as he is to serve you. He claims he would kill for you and die for you and nothing I ever witnessed gives me a reason to doubt him." Tyrion answered.
Jorah stared at me with hope.
"And yet he did betray you," Tyrion added, catching Jorah off guard. "Did he have an opportunity to confess his betrayal?"
My throat clenched feeling the emotions stirring as I forced out the words, "Yes. Many opportunities."
"And did he?" Tyrion asked.
"He tried once, but only talked about his annulment." I answered. "It wasn't until he forced to do so."
Jorah bowed his head.
"He worships you. He is in love with you, I think. But he did not trust you with the truth. An unpleasant truth to be sure, but one of great significance to you." Tyrion noted.
Jorah looked up as the water of his tears, yet they did not fall. He knew of his mistakes. He knew how vital Rhaego was for Daenerys and I. Not because he was the true heir to the Iron Throne. No, Rhaego was our blood. Along with Drogo's death, our Dothraki family destroyed.
"He did not trust that you would be wise enough to forgive him," Tyrion continued.
"So I should have him executed?" I asked.
"A ruler who kills those devoted to her is not a ruler who inspires devotion," Tyrion answered. "And you're going to need to inspire devotion, a lot of it if you're ever going to rule across the Narrow Sea. But you cannot have him by your side when you do."
I felt my heart shatter, yet kept a neutral face even though my eyes sting from tears. I stared at my former lover one last time. I am seeing that he regretted his choices of betraying my family. Deep down I thought we could have something in the future. But now, I am promised to another. It would torture us both if he stayed.
"Remove Ser Jorah from the city. Provide him enough provisions that he can carry." I managed to order.
Jorah eyes widen, silently pleading me through his blue eyes. The Unsullied from the entrance came forward to escort him out. Not having a choice, Jorah turned around and left the Audience Hall. I sat there watching what could have been departed. Once he was gone, I excused myself and told Daenerys to give Tyrion a room to rest and freshen up.
I left the chamber and may do to my private quarters. Once inside, I closed the door, locking it, before falling into my bed silently crying the pain in my chest.
Why? Why did he have to come back? I thought.
.o0o.
Jorah's POV
Jorah was escorted outside the city when the Unsullied handed him a small satchel with food, a canteen of water, and some coins. He looked over his shoulder seeing four Unsullied securing the door. He glanced at the wall, seeing the Harpy Statues face destroyed. A sigh escaped his lip when he felt the stretching in his left forearm. Carefully rolling up his sleeve, he saw that the greyscale had spread. It was still small to conceal and prevent exposure. However, it reminded him that he was running out of time.
Something was wrong, and his instincts told him so. Just seeing how frail Alysanne was infected by this. Whatever was causing her stress. He knew he couldn't just leave. Not until he knows she is safe. The only way to do that was going back to the lower pits. On the way, he gathers some information in what has happened over the city — learning that a bunch of insurgences who goes by the name Sons of the Harpy has been terrorizing the city the past few months. Jorah also learned about the previous council member for the freemen betrayed Alysanne by attempting to kill a Harpy prisoner, the trials, Daenerys impulsive attempt to frighten the Masters, and Alysanne being burned by Rhaegal but held no mark. Another thing he learned was that when Alysanne agreed to marry Hizdahr zo Loraq did the Sons of the Harpy's stop terrorizing the city.
It could be a coincidence, or the Hizdahr could have a part in it. Either way, the Queen is in danger, and he will not see her harmed. By dusk, he arrived at the lower pits where Yezzan zo Gaggaz reigned. The slave trader was watching two of his fighters' train. Yezzan whistled for the two to stop.
Jorah came over tossing the gold honor back at Yezzan. The Slave Trader caught it, confused why Jorah was here.
"You said whoever wins will fight at the Great Pit in front of the queen," Jorah said. "I won."
"You struck me," Yezzan growled.
"Have me flogged if it makes you happy," Jorah offered. "But I'm the best you've got. If I win at the Great Pit how much can you sell me for?"
Yezzan stared at him as if the Westerosi was mad, "You're a free man. You could have gone anywhere. Why did you come back?"
He stepped forward, "Let me fight for her and I belong to you."
Blood of his blood, Jorah will fight, kill and die for her.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
The following day around noon I officially meet Tyrion in my study. We sat by a table with some wine and food to snack on. After yesterday it seems appropriate, we don't see each other. Since Lord Tyrion must be exhausted from his journey and I emotionally exhausted. Although, a part of me wants to kill him to get even at the Lannisters. However, what is the point since the man I would want to hurt is already dead. Thanks to his son. So, the best thing I can do is have a small lion in my service, but I need to be careful. Tyrion can also be a spy for the Lannisters. Using his traffic tale to woo information.
"So have you decided yet?" I asked. "Whether I'm worthy of your service?"
"Have you decided yet whether you're going to have me killed?" Tyrion countered as he finished pouring his wine.
"It's probably my safest option," I answered.
He grabbed his glass and leaned against the chair, "I can see why you would think so. It's what your father would have done."
I scowled at him, "And what would your father have done?"
He took a large sip of wine, "My father, who publicly sentenced me to death? I'd say his thoughts on having me killed were abundantly clear."
"Is that why you killed him?" I asked.
"Someday, if you decide not to execute me, I'll tell you all about why I killed my father. And on that day, should it ever come, we'll need more wine than this." He answered, taking another sip.
Seems we have something in common when it comes to murdering family. Since Daenerys and I allowed Khal Drogo to kill Viserys. Along with my attempted murder during the travels through the grasslands after he raped me. In the end, we allowed Viserys to die to stop our suffering. The Madness killed Viserys, one he inherited from Father as a consequence to inbreeding.
I grabbed my chalice taking a small sip. "I know what my father was. What he did. I know how the Mad King earned his name."
Tyrion sighed, "So, here we sit. Two terrible children of two terrible fathers."
"I'm terrible?" I asked.
"I've heard stories," he said.
"Really, tell me one?" I challenged.
"You sacked Astapor killing all the Masters," He started.
"And did you know the Good Masters were stealing boys from their mothers at age five, castrating them, and kill babies to become Unsullied?" I asked.
"No," he answered.
"So, am I terrible to let the Unsullied to receive justice by only killing the Good Masters who were part of the practice and sparing their sons, women, and children?"
"Apparently not."
"You can tell me stories that you heard in Westeros, and I will give you a clear explanation. I will admit, I acted on impulse in Astapor. But Yunkai and Meereen I used my advisors in the siege."
Tyrion only nodded.
"Now, why did you travel to the far side of the world to meet someone terrible?" I asked.
"To see if you were the right kind of terrible." He answered.
"Which kind is that?"
"The kind that prevents your people from being even more so."
I sighed, "Well, I did reopen the fighting pits. Under my rule, murder will once again become entertainment."
"Yes, that was wise." Tyrion agreed. "And you agreed to marry someone you loathe for the greater good. Very impressive. My own sister married someone she loathed as well, though not by choice and certainly not for the greater good, gods forbid. She ended up having him killed."
"I don't loathe Hizdahr zo Loraq. I respect him." I assured.
"That's good to hear," he said, taking another sip of wine. "It's not impossible that Varys was right about you after all."
"Varys? King Robert's spymaster? The man who once served my father?" I asked, leaning back in the chair.
"Yes, he's the one who convinced me to come find you," Tyrion answered. "He was my traveling companion before Ser Jorah seized that role for himself."
"Jorah sent my secrets to Varys," I reminded. "For twenty years the Spider oversaw the campaign to find and kill my siblings and me."
"He did what he had to do to survive. He did a lot of other things as well, things he didn't have to do." He defended. "I suspect he's the main reason you weren't slaughtered in your bed."
"Do you trust him?" I asked.
"Yes, oddly. He may be the only person in the world I trust. Except for my brother. "he answered, followed by another sip.
I scowled slightly, "The brother who killed my father?"
"That's the one," he said, refilling his cup.
"Perhaps I will have you killed after all," I said, to see his reaction. I was testing him.
"Your queenly prerogative." He countered. "I had given up on life until Varys convinced me you might be worth living for. If you chop off my head, well, my final days were interesting."
He took another sip of wine.
It appears to me that I was staring at a broken man. Something else happened when he murdered his father. I get a cynic behavior from him, so he does not fear the gods in committing patricide. Analyzing his green eyes, I saw the expression I see every day in the mirror. Heartbreak. Either Tywin Lannister killed somebody he loved, or that person broke his heart before he escaped King's Landing. I know I need to be careful with him, not sure if he still serves his House or not. The best way to sure is by testing him.
"I'm not going to kill you," I declared.
"No? Banish me?" he asked.
"No," I answered.
"So if I'm not going to be murdered and I'm not going to be banished –"
"You're going to advise me," I finished, sitting up straight. He gave a toasting gesture about to take a sip, except I took the chalice. "While you can still speak in complete sentences."
Tyrion bit his finger thinking, "Advise you on what?"
"How to get what I want," I said.
"The Iron Throne. Perhaps you should try wanting something else." He suggested.
"The Iron Throne is nothing but a chair," I said.
This caught Tyrion off guard. "There's more to the world than Westeros after all. How many hundreds of thousands of lives have you changed for the better here? Perhaps this is where you belong, where you can do the most good."
"I fought so that no child born into Slaver's Bay would ever know what it meant to be bought or sold. So that a woman can experience the pleasure of intimacy by her own accord. Or a man to work and receive payment for his service and not a whip in the back." I said, staring into his eyes. "I will continue that right here and beyond. But this is not my home."
"When you get back to your home, who supports you?" he asked.
"The common people," I answered. "And selected Houses."
He gave me a skeptical look, "Let's be generous and assume that's going to happen. Here in Slaver's Bay, you had the support of the common people and only the common people. What was that like? Ruling without the rich? House Targaryen is gone. Only your sister shares your blood is alive to support you. The Starks are gone as well. Our two terrible fathers saw to that. The remaining members of House Lannister will never back you, not ever. Stannis Baratheon won't back you, either. His entire claim to the throne rests on the illegitimacy of yours. That leaves the Tyrells. Not impossible, not enough."
"There is the Velaryons," I reminded.
"Monterys Velaryon is ten years old," Tyrion reminded.
"House Celtigar," I added.
"Lord Ardiran Celtigar is known for his avarice and wealth, but he is a sour old man," Tyrion said. "Velaryon and Celtigar maybe Valyrian descendants, but it's not enough."
"And my distant cousins, the Martells," I finished my list.
Tyrion paused thinking about it, "They may be useful since they hate the Lannisters. Although, might be difficult with Prince Oberyn dead and Prince Doran has gout."
"How is Prince Oberyn dead?" I asked.
"By being my champion for a trial by combat," He said. "His head crushed by the Mountain. Ser Gregor Clegane."
"The abomination that slaughtered my sister-in-law and her children," I sneered.
Tyrion nodded, a sadness in his eye feeling the guilt his trial did to Prince Oberyn.
Taking a deep breath, I looked at him seriously, "Winter is coming, Lord Tyrion. A blizzard that brings a long night of survival. If you know what I know, you would agree that the Iron Throne means nothing. My home is in great peril, and while the Great Houses fights to be on top, I'm fighting for the people who don't have a chance of survival. You look at me and see Madness, but only five out of the nineteen kings grew mad in my bloodline."
"So, you don't want to stop the wheel?" Tyrion asked.
"Aegon the Conqueror created the wheel, destroying it does nothing but create chaos. Fire and Blood, those are his mottos. I interpret it as Live and Die. A choice everyone makes."
"And what do you want?"
"What I want, I can never have."
"Everyone wants something."
I stared into his eyes, "What I want is to redeem House Targaryen's name."
Tyrion arched a brow. An ambitious plan, especially with the circumstances I am facing by marrying a Ghiscari. My destiny that Visenya foretold will never be the same. But I will be damn to die in the Mad King's legacy.
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!