Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Ice and Fire Novels, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon TV shows. However, I decided to have a little play around with the characters. I do not earn any money from writing these stories, it is for my entertainment and is something I like to share.

Tyrion II

Tyrion had sent a raven ahead to inform Sansa of his imminent arrival, not giving anything away as to the purpose, or purposes of his visit. The journey would take a turn of the moon should the weather stay fine as Tyrion wasn't travelling with a large retinue, just him and his former squire, Ser Podrick Payne, who normally looked after King Bran, however Brienne had volunteered herself to take care of the King in Pod's absence. He would have felt safer with Bronn, but he was already on a trip to Storm's End with Grand Maester Tarly. On the other hand, under the excellent tutelage of Ser Brienne of Tarth, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Pod had become an able swordsman and a skilled rider since returning to Kings Landing and could see off most threats they would likely encounter on the way.

They travelled light, just Tyrion, Pod and a wheelhouse which mainly contained all of the necessities for their stay in Winterfell, but also it proved a useful place to sleep when they had to set up camp for the night. Tyrion only took two types of luxury, both he knew Winterfell lacked, especially the first since the constant attacks it had endured since he visited many years ago with his brother, sister and brother-in-law, King Robert Baratheon, that was books. Someone, most likely Littlefinger had paid some lowlife to burn down the library at Winterfell in an attempt to kill Bran as a child, it had never recovered from that night, even to this day almost ten years later. Therefore as a gesture of goodwill he had decided to help restock the library, plus there were a few books he wanted to read away from the prying eyes of Kings Landing and this innocent gesture of goodwill was the perfect opportunity to delve into them. The second was wine, specifically the good stuff from Dorne. Admittedly the wine was for his own purposes, but he felt the gesture was sincere enough.

The Kingsroad took them through many taverns and inns, all hospitable with enough chatter inside for Tyrion to hear of all local news without having to pay for it, save for food and ale. The journey had been quite uneventful, no mention of dragons, whitewalkers or even direwolves, although he had heard chatter about a large pack of wolves roaming the countryside terrorising the smallfolk. Rumours were it was led by a giant she-wolf, bigger than a pony, if he didn't know better, the she-wolf sounded like a direwolf, but the only one left alive, to his knowledge was Ghost who had gone beyond the wall. He suspected the stories must be exaggerated.

The one constant buzz of chatter among those on the road was how little they liked the new King, a fact which surprised Tyrion. Tyrion had been assured all policies would be examined by Bran through the weirwood trees to check how the smallfolk felt about new laws and taxes. Every time laws were passed, they were all under the assurance that these would not be a problem for the smallfolk and they were happy their new King was trying to help them back on the road to recovery, even if that sometimes meant extra taxation. In the real world, Tyrion discovered people were not only unhappy, they were downright furious but none of their Lords seemed to want to listen to their problems. That was even more of an issue as many of the Lords had been killed during the years of war, leaving only a few smaller houses left to deal with the mess and they didn't want to upset the new King. An issue Tyrion found, was that the Lords of Westeros believed Bran to be all seeing and knowing, therefore they didn't dare to speak out against him. The smallfolk had less to lose as they knew they were inconsequential and unlikely to be spied upon. It appeared the realms were not happy and Bran's abilities had instilled fear into his subjects who did not dare rebel, again a consequence of the lack of Lords remaining. On the positive side, Tyrion decided, at least that meant there was less of a chance for an uprising, unless anyone found out about Bran not being able to listen into their thoughts, albeit being possibly a temporary setback. Should Drogon return to Dragonstone, Bran's power would hopefully return, although Tyrion had a bad feeling about Bran being a little too optimistic regarding his greenseeing predicament being only temporary. If Bran had lost his ability to see, then he had nothing to offer as King. Bran even telling the him such sensitive information showed the King trusted Tyrion as he would not have shared this problem unless he thought it was safe to do so, but Tyrion did not like situation one bit as there was always a small chance Bran was playing games with him. It wouldn't be the first time he had tested his loyalty, neither would it be his last, it was what Kings did.

Finally they reached the neck and Moat Cailin, the entrance to the north. A miserable place, but nonetheless, it signalled the last leg of the journey with only House Cerwyn between them and Winterfell. As soon as they arrived, a raven was sent to Winterfell, if there were no complications, they would be there within two days and Tyrion may finally get some of the answers to the questions which had been burning on his lips for the last few months. Answers only Sansa could answer.

The weather was much colder in the north, but Tyrion and Pod were already accustomed to it, which was why they were dressed ready for the bracing winds. It was warmer than the last time they visited which had been in the middle of a ridiculously short winter, despite the predictions being otherwise. Tyrion had long suspected they were experiencing a false spring, but as Bran had never voiced the same, he had not told anyone of his suspicions out loud.

It wasn't long before castle Winterfell came into view. It was large, but in Tyrion's eyes it was a dark and miserable looking place. How anyone could be happy here was beyond him. Years of war and neglect had left the castle in an awful state of repair, although as he got closer, he could see much of the work had already been completed, and was even an improvement on his first visit with King Robert, from an age long ago and one which seemed almost innocent in comparison.

The large wooden gates opened, to allow the wheelhouse in with little fanfare, although he saw a throng of people waiting to greet him, the most obvious of all was Queen Sansa herself. Sansa stood out from most people, she was now a woman in her early twenties, the beauty of youth had not only transferred, but blossomed as she had aged into a woman. Her flame red hair tied back in northern style braids, skin as white as snow and big blue eyes like her mother had. She was tall and slender, all dressed in black with the Stark direwolf sigil stitched into the front of her dress. Tyrion's eyes were able to make out she had curves any man would love to spend time inspecting on a more intimate basis. Not that it was likely anyone ever would come close to the Queen. She had an ice cold reputation regarding men, one which Tyrion knew was fully warranted. The poor woman had been mentally abused, physically tortured and raped by the men who were supposed to be her suitors. The fact that Tyrion had been her best husband said a lot about the sad lot this woman had endured. His heart went out to her as it always did. However she wore the hurt like armour, never to be attacked again. It would take a very special man to get past it, and Tyrion doubted any man would be good enough, despite Bran's suspicions.

"Your Grace." Tyrion bowed his head before taking Sansa's gloved hand and kissing the back of it.

"Lord Hand." Sansa replied, a small smile on her face.

"It is good to see you looking so well. Beautiful as always." Tyrion smiled.

"Ser Podrick." Sansa smiled at Pod who also bowed.

"Your Grace." Pod replied as Sansa held out her hand to him, which he also kissed.

"I hope your journey was a comfortable one?" Sansa asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.

"It was Your Grace. We were able to mix among the smallfolk and hear what is really happening throughout the land. The chatter of those on the ground often gets lost in the ears of the ones who are supposed to listen." Tyrion replied, to which Sansa laughed.

"Come, I shall have Magatha show you to your quarters. I believe you will be more comfortable than your last visit to Winterfell." she told him.

"It certainly looks a lot better than I remember." Tyrion smiled as a dark-haired young woman approached. She must have been a little older than Sansa, and she had the friendliest face he could remember seeing in a long time.

"Magatha, show Lord Tyrion to his chambers, we shall be having a small feast in your honour this evening. I shall let you go and have a bath." Sansa instructed "Magatha, I would like you to also escort Ser Podrick Payne to his room and have baths brought up for them." she added as Magatha simply nodded and led them to their rooms.

Tyrion's room was warm, cosy and clean. A window with a ledge low enough to allow him to take in the view of the woods, where in the middle stood the unmistakable weirwood tree, its bright red leaves standing out in the midst of a sea of greenery. Next to the roaring fire, the servants were filling a tin bath with hot water and oils, a welcome sight as he hadn't seen one since he left Kings Landing and he was filthy and reeked worse than a whorehouse communal shit-room.

Northern feasts were usually a boisterous affair, however the depleted Lords meant fewer highborns able to attend. Those who were left were only children and not old enough to participate in any effective manner. This left the job to Queen Sansa, her Maester and a few of her higher servants to indulge in the feast. The discussions were mainly focussed on how Winterfell was being repaired, as was the conversation with regards to Kings Landing and the Red Keep. Tyrion had decided not to discuss the reason for his visit until the next day. He needed a clear head and sharp wits, wine would not be a suitable companion as it created loose lips, although he wouldn't have minded finding out whether Magatha had loose lips as it appeared she was also attending the feast.

"I like what you've done to the place." Tyrion said during the feast as he looked around the Great Hall. He could see newly woven tapestries hanging from the walls, brightening the room up to actually make it look almost hospitable.

"I'm having the children being taught skills in spinning, weaving and sewing. Wool is our trade Lord Tyrion and we do not use it for anything other than in its raw form, apart from personal use. The lack of skills in the north has been highlighted by the loss of men from the battle. This has left many women without a husband to provide nor there any chance of finding one." she told him. "We are also teaching the children to read and write and some of the older girls are learning healing skills from Maester Wolkan. A school of nursing I think, some will be trained for delivering babes, some for general help with ailments and some to help on battlefields when the time comes."

Tyrion looked at Sansa cautiously. "Battlefields? I thought we were living in peaceful times Your Grace."

Sansa raised an eyebrow at Tyrion. "There is no such thing as a peaceful time. It only takes one false word or a small mistake and the entire country can be set off into war. I'm sure you know all too well Lord Tyrion how it was Lord Baelish told a lie to my mother which set off the entire war of the five Kings. Indeed you almost lost your own life as a result." she looked at him carefully. "I take nothing for granted." she added.

"Well, you were taught by the best." Tyrion shrugged. They looked at each other and laughed, the ice was broken and it allowed them to enjoy the evening on a less formal level, which Tyrion appreciated because the next day was going to be a lot tougher. "Have you heard from your brother?" he asked.

"Only to inform me of your visit." Sansa replied. "I hear very little from Kings Landing these days, which other than the concerns over the health of my brother, is how I like it. Has he appointed a Master of Whisperers yet?" she asked.

Tyrion frowned, he was unsure as to why Sansa would want to know, but he answered truthfully. "I wouldn't know Your Grace. I maybe hand of the King, but there are things he keeps from me. Probably with good reason. He is all seeing and all knowing." he smiled.

"I would have thought you would be the first person the King would tell if he appointed a Master of Whisperers." Sansa frowned.

"Usually the first person to know in Kings Landing is the person who has to pay them. Lord Bronn." Tyrion sighed, frustrated by how Sansa was seeing through how little Tyrion seemed to be clued up on the comings and goings of Kings Landing.

"I do find it strange that a King has a Hand but never uses him. It must be frustrating. Especially a King so inexperienced as Bran. Although, I do hear he is the Three Eyed Raven ,and his predecessor was called Brynden, a man who many suspect was Brynden Rivers, one of the most influential Hand's in the history of Westeros. Do you think my brother Bran may have some of his Lord Bloodraven's knowledge?" Sansa asked.

Tyrion frowned, he had never thought of Bran in that way. If Bran was in some part Bloodraven, then it would explain his lack of need for Tyrion's expertise. "I have heard of some of it, and yes I do know of Lord Bloodraven. I do admit I have not delved into his life too much." he admitted.

"I think you should Lord Tyrion. You may find it most, enlightening." Sansa clapped as the dance came to an end. "And Drogon? What do you hear of him? Is he still on Dragonstone?" Sansa asked, an eyebrow raised as if she already knew the answer.

"You wouldn't be asking me that if you didn't already know." Tyrion replied. "I assume you are aware he flew north a few weeks ago."

"To Jon I presume." Sansa nodded.

"Do you think he's going to kill him?" Tyrion asked.

"He didn't kill him after Jon killed Dany when he had the chance. Why would he fly all of the way north for him? And how would he even know where to find him?" Sansa asked Tyrion.

Tyrion frowned. The last part hadn't even occurred to him. He looked at Sansa with appreciation. "You are much smarter than anyone I know, including me. What do you think?" he asked.

"I didn't study dragons. Nor have I spent time with them. I think you are the expert my Lord." Sansa smiled back.

Tyrion sighed. "Fine, I think Drogon wants Jon to ride him."

Sansa nodded. "That is what I think too. It will cause a war won't it." she looked on as people were beginning to dance to the music playing by the musicians.

"I suspect." Tyrion nodded.

"Whose side would you be on?" Sansa asked, not looking Tyrion in the eye.

"Hopefully the winning side, Your Grace." Tyrion replied, to which Sansa laughed as Pod approached.

"Your Grace, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" he asked.

Sansa looked at Pod and smiled. "Of course." she replied, before getting up and leaving Tyrion to drink his wine and mull over Sansa's words.

If you like this story, please like, follow and/or review. It helps motivate me to get the chapters written and published quicker.

Mandzipop.