Dany and company regroup after their losses.
15. Wounded - Tyrion
Dragonstone was surprisingly empty. Tyrion figured that Stannis would have left some form of garrison to defend it, but no. When their fleet arrived, there were only a few servants and a maester to welcome them. Or perhaps Stannis did leave a garrison, Tyrion considered, and they left after his death. What would they fight for, if their king was dead?
None of that mattered, of course. They had more pressing concerns at the moment. He glanced at his queen. Daenerys had raged for hours at their recent naval defeat, before finally settling into a subdued demeanor. He could understand it. We lost a dragon, but she lost a child.
Tyrion was still trying to come to grips with that fact. Euron could control dragons. He didn't remember much from the battle, having spent the majority of it in the safety of his cabin, but everyone heard that terrible sound. It had to be a horn, but what sort of horn could have such an effect?
He didn't know. And among the survivors of that battle, only High Priestess Kinvara had offered an explanation. The legends say that in Old Valyria the dragonlords could bind dragons to their will in many different ways. Perhaps this Euron Greyjoy has found one of them. The woman had the unfortunate gift of appearing wise while saying nothing of substance. That Euron had found a way to control dragons was obvious, the important question was how could they stop him.
"Your Grace, the maester informs me that the letter to Winterfell has been sent." Tyrion had wanted to send it when they were at Sunspear, yet the queen had hesitated. We were too confident in our plan to seek help then, and now we're desperate.
She merely nodded in response, her eyes not leaving the skies where Drogon and Viserion were flying together. Pain was etched on her face. Tyrion wondered if she would ever smile again.
They were in the room with the massive painted table of Westeros. Casting his eyes across the whole continent, Tyrion imagined how useful this must have been for Aegon the Conqueror. More than fifty feet long, with every major castle pictured, from the icy snows in the North to the warm sands of Dorne. There was a raised seat at the precise location of where the island of Dragonstone would be, ideally placed for someone planning an invasion.
He would need to spend some time here thinking of another plan. Their original strategy had been ruined by Euron's surprise attack. We didn't even bother to stop at Storm's End. Queen Daenerys had decided to scrap the plan after they took a good look at their remaining forces. Most of the Dornish were either dead or missing, along with Ellaria Sand and her daughter Tyene.
Tyrion glanced at the only remaining Sand in the room, Nymeria. She had spent the better part of the day crying over her losses, and now her eyes had a glazed expression. She didn't even bother to carry her whip anymore. He found little sympathy for the people responsible for Myrcella's death, but to his surprise he did feel something.
Their army was in shambles. Since the last count, only the Unsullied hadn't suffered many losses. Those men knew their limits, and they had tried to avoid engaging Euron's ships. The Dornish had been more reckless and paid the price. And the Reach army had suffered only enough losses to be crippled. Altogether, they barely reached twenty thousand strong.
That's why we need the King in the North on our side. He knew they needed this alliance now more than ever.
"Your Grace, in order to expedite matters, perhaps we should send Lady Greyjoy to White Harbor. She can wait for Jon Snow there and escort him back here." Tyrion glanced at the woman, who was taken aback by the suggestion.
"Are you serious?" Yara Greyjoy snapped. "Everyone knows the North hates me and my family." She darted her eyes to Theon briefly, before focusing back on Tyrion. "This is just another bad idea in your long line of terrible plans."
He felt the heat rise to his head. "Need I remind you that it was your carelessness which led to that surprise attack? How could an entire fleet catch us by surprise?"
"We wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for your stupid strategy!" She was yelling now. "We should've just attacked from Dorne, instead of pretending to go somewhere else. What was the point of all that crap?" She slammed her hands on the painted table, leaning over and staring daggers at him.
He was about to reply when he heard the queen's firm voice, "Enough." She turned away from the view of the sky and walked back in. "What's done is done. We must focus on what comes next." She cast her eyes on the painted table, then back at Tyrion. "Do you believe White Harbor would welcome the Greyjoys even after their recent history?"
He hesitated for a bit, before answering, "Perhaps welcome is too strong a word, Your Grace, but I doubt Lord Manderly would resort to open hostilities. Besides, they wouldn't stay for long. Only until Jon Snow arrives."
"Assuming he does." The queen added.
He nodded. "True, yet I believe he will at least send someone in his stead. This alliance would be too useful for him to pass up." He paused to consider the outcomes. "We should also send a raven to White Harbor warning of Lady Greyjoy's arrival. And make sure they sail under a white flag of peace."
Yara Greyjoy bristled at that. "If I leave, Dragonstone would be defenseless from the sea. Did you consider that, my lord Hand?" She said the last words with all the contempt she could muster.
A loud cough was heard, and Tyrion turned to face Lord Paxter Redwyne. "I believe we could assist with that." The man was thin and stooped of shoulder, with only a few tufts of orange hair on his balding head. He was garbed in a deep blue vest, covered by a burgundy cape, representing his House colors with pride. Tyrion noticed the small pin with a cluster of grapes on his shoulder. "The Reach army has taken losses, that's true, but our fleet should still be strong enough to put up a fight. And I doubt Lady Greyjoy will be taking all of her ships to White Harbor."
He directed the words at the woman, who shrugged back. "Only a few fast longships to make the trip quicker."
"That's settled, then?" Tyrion asked the queen.
She nodded. "Very well. Make the necessary arrangements."
Tyrion turned to leave, but he saw the maester arriving at the door. "Pardon me, my lord. A raven has arrived from Casterly Rock." He gave the letter and bowed before leaving.
Casterly Rock? Tyrion wondered what happened at his childhood home. He had reservations about leaving Randyll Tarly in charge of the Dothraki, but the man was their best field commander. He should know how to use a powerful cavalry. Tyrion unfurled the paper and read quickly.
"Well? What happened?" Queen Daenerys wanted to know.
"Lord Tarly informs that they've taken Casterly Rock without casualties, but the gold mines are dry. And they have been for some time." Another failure.
Lord Varys raised his eyebrows. "My little birds didn't know about this at all. Lord Tywin knew how to keep a secret." He sounded impressed. When you deal in secrets, the ability to keep one to yourself is the greatest prize.
The queen sighed. "Is there anything else?" She seemed more tired than disappointed.
"Yes." Tyrion glanced back at the letter. "He says the Lannister soldiers had removed all food and other resources from the castle before they arrived, and they can't stay there for long. So they will march on Harrenhal." Why, though?
"Harrenhal?" The queen had the same question he did.
"He doesn't explain much here." Tyrion waved the letter. "But he does mention it's closer to King's Landing." And a suitable place to house a large army, he added in his mind.
"Odd." Lord Redwyne said, looking over the painted table. "The closest castle would be Riverrun." True, but that's the most obvious route.
"I suppose Lord Tarly has a plan of his own." Tyrion would have to figure out a way to use that. "We'll have to trust him. At least we know where they'll be next, should we need to coordinate an attack later."
"Yes." The queen nodded. "Should we send a raven to Harrenhal as well?"
Tyrion shook his head. "Not yet, Your Grace. We must be sure they hold the castle before that."
"I've heard that place is cursed." Lord Redwyne muttered. "Aunt Olenna claims it's just superstition, but I have my doubts."
"There is some truth to that, my lord." Tyrion tried to remember how many people had died while holding the place. I sent Janos Slynt to the Wall while he was the lord of Harrenhal, and after that... Finally, his memory reached the last known lord. "Every person who holds that castle eventually meets with a terrible fate. Myself, I'm hoping the current lord suffers a great deal before finally dying."
"And just who is the lord of Harrenhal, anyway?" Yara Greyjoy asked, curious.
His face curled in a smile. "Lord Petyr Baelish."
Alright, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I just had some trouble at the beginning.
Lord Paxter Redwyne is a new addition I felt necessary, as a way to represent the Reach forces (mainly their navy, but he's also a field commander if needed).
The date is 19/05/2019 (series finale!)