Tyrion

"Fuck!" Tyrion slammed his fists on the Painted Table. Jon, Jorah, Davos, Varys, Theon, and Missandei were all gathered around and equally angry. Only hours ago, was he talking with Daenerys, not about politics or conquering, just a regular conversation. She was asking about her brother, Rhaegar. She wanted to know more about him from someone who never met him. He had much to tell of the tales he heard. Rhaegar was considered beautiful rather than handsome. He was a better at playing the harp than he was at swinging a sword. He even told her how infatuated Cersei was with the crown prince before the idea of engagement was filled in her head. But then he left to speak with Ser Jorah. He wanted to know about how he was cured from greyscale.

Ser Jorah seemed the most distressed. He hadn't returned a full day yet and things had already gone to hell. He had been with Tyrion, talking about what happened to him at the Citadel when they heard the bells ring instead of protecting their Queen.

"We know where she's going" Jorah said, standing over the Iron Islands. "We have to follow them to Pyke."

"We can't," Theon said. "Euron's fleet is probably scattered about the entire route watching for any ship that heads that way. He'd rather drag you to the island then peacefully welcome you." He grabbed four of the wooden ship tokens and placed them at various points along the east coast to Dorne.

"It's not a guess of probability, it is a fact." Varys confirmed. "I just recently received a raven from my little birds along the coasts of Dorne telling me that Greyjoy ships are being spotted more than they have been for the past two weeks. If we choose to pursue the, whoever does will absolutely be captured."

"So how do we get there?" Jorah clenched his fists. "We not just going to leave her."

"That's obvious," Tyrion said, "but we have to think about this carefully. One wrong step and she could be killed." They were all interrupted by the screeching of the dragons. "We have three dragons, but they answer to no one but Daenerys." Tyrion looked over to Jon "They may answer to you considering you have dragons of your own, but as easy as it would be to burn Pyke to the ground, we can't."

"Why not?" Jorah asked. "Those who surround her will be burned while she remains unharmed. Fire cannot kill a dragon."

"Indeed, but I'm rather positive that crashing debris from whatever ship or castle she's in will!" Tyrion took a moment to calm down. "I saw Drogon's power at the Battle of the Blackwater Rush. Their strength is too great. Whatever they burn won't just catch fire, it would be completely obliterated." They had the greatest sources of power in the whole world, but in their current situation it was too much.

"Then we won't use hers," Jon said "We'll use mine. They're smaller, yes, but also less firepower, and they don't make much noise when flying."

"And how do you expect to get them?" Tyrion asked. "The time it would take for you to get to Winterfell and then to Pyke would take too long. The last full moon ended a while ago and we are not very wealthy on time."

"Euron will spot any ship that gets near Pyke" Theon stated. "We can't take any of the ships we have left. We need to do this in a small group."

"How small?" Jorah asked.

"However, many we can fit into a rowboat or two."

This was all sounding ridiculous. "You want to row all the way to Pyke from the east coast?" Tyrion asked, sounded amazed that such an idea was thought of.

"Not to Pyke, to one of Euron's ships." Theon moved over to the west side of the table to the Iron islands. His hands ran down the table and stopped at Flint's Finger. "Euron will be keeping at least a handful of ships anchored in the Blazewater Bay to make sure nothing from the North comes their way. They'll mostly likely be close to the coast near Flint's Finger to keep maintenance on the ships. They'll be watching for anything coming from the north, leaving their rear unguarded. We can cut through the North on foot."

"That may just work." Tyrion said. "Assuming that the ship Daenerys in on gets to the Iron Islands before we do." It was a long way from Dragonstone to Pyke. Cutting through the North would save a great amount of time.

"It will," Theon said with complete confidence for once. "It's a Greyjoy ship crewed by Ironborn."

Unfortunately, there were no better sailors nor better made ships anywhere else in the world. The worst combination they had to face right now. "We'll be cutting it very close though. The journey on foot will have to be a short one and every moment Daenerys isn't here, she's in danger."

Jon said looking over the east. His gaze fell over to Greywater Watch. "We can land at the Neck and cut across the swamplands." Jon pointed over to the castle. "There's a dock where the Kingsroad is closest to the Bite. I'll send word to the Reeds of Greywater Watch and have the crannogmen guide us. They're the only ones who can do it. They can also send other men to prepare what we need at the Finger. Meanwhile the men who meet us can take whatever ship we use to get there to the White Harbor until we rescue Daenerys."

"That will save us a lot of time" Tyrion agreed. Despite Jon Snow technically still a rebel king against Daenerys, he wasn't hesitating to do what he can to help. "And if we could get their help sneaking into Pyke it would make things easier. Their skill with stealth is only matched by the Faceless Men."

"Now the question is," Ser Jorah asked "who are we sending?"

"You'll be going, that much is obvious no matter what we say" Tyrion noted. Ser Jorah's devotion and honor would drive him to make up for his failure.

"I'll go." Theon said. "we'll disguise everyone as Ironborn and say I've been captured. When we get close enough to Euron, we can make the kill. If Yara's there too, we can free her and let her take claim to the Salt Throne and the entire fleet."

"He will be expecting something," Davos said, "But he could be caught off guard."

"I'll go," Jon said. All eyes fell on him and all people silently asked the same question, why?

"They've already taken a queen captive," Tyrion stated. "They don't need a king to complete the set."

"We'll need fighters and the crannogmen won't follow anyone but a Northerner." He spoke firmly, the same way Ser Jorah was.

"Jon, I must ask you to reconsider. If you die, who will the North turn to when the fight with the White Walkers comes?"

"There's no point to any of that if Daenerys doesn't help us!" Jon exclaimed. "The North only has about thirty thousand who can fight against an army of over a hundred thousand by now." Jon took several breaths before continuing. "I can't do this on my own. I need her to help us."

"Jon," Davos began, "could I have a moment?" Jon walked over with Davos and they left the room.

Tyrion let them be and looked over to everyone who remained. "We'll use the Ironborn who escaped with me." Theon told them. "Any Ironborn sailor can always tell who a ship is sailed by, and we'll need Yara's supporters."

Tyrion nodded. "That will probably be all we can afford to send. If too many go, you'll be noticed." Jon and Davos walked back in, looking like they just had an argument.

"When's the soonest we can leave?" Jon asked.

Tyrion looked over to Theon, seeing as he was the new commander of the naval forces since Yara was captured. "We can leave before first light." said Theon. "If the Reeds can resupply us when we anchor, we won't have to prepare as much."

"Then what are we doing still standing around here for?" Tyrion asked. Suddenly, from outside, the sound of the dragons roaring and screeching echoed all across the island. Every shifted their gazes to the window of the room. There was such a weight of anger in the sounds of the beasts. "It looks like they found out their mother's missing."

Everyone stood nervously. "It sounds like they're going to set the whole island on fire." Ser Davos commented.

Jon had made for the door after that remark.

"Where are you going?" Tyrion asked.

Jon looked back at them all. "To calm them down."

Varys cleared his throat. "Your grace, I'm not sure if a song is the best thing right now."

"Unless anyone has any better ideas to face the wrath of three grown dragons?" He asked and nobody responded except Missandei.

"Do be careful."

He left without another word.

Seven hells, did he really think he could? Regardless he was either foolishly brave or incredibly stupid to go face the dragons.

Everyone remained in the safety of the castle but watched from the window as Jon Snow walked on the grassy cliffs. He stopped at the nesting grounds of the dragons, a place no one dared to go without the queen with them.

The dragons soared down and landed, surrounded Jon Snow. Their growls and snarling could be heard all the way from the castle.

"He's going to die," Tyrion breathed.

But it wasn't so. The anger of the great beasts subsided and they appeared to be calming down. It was impressive by itself but even more so when Jon Snow managed to touch of the dragons.

After a few moments, the dragons took back to the skies but they were much quieter than before. Everyone breathed easy, but they were all still on edge. Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell, 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, the King in the North, the Father of Dragons. All those titles and more and yet Tyrion kept asking himself 'who is this man before me?' There was so much about him to talk about and just and much mystery. The bond he had with dragons, not only his but Daenerys's as well, was powerful.

"We should probably stop watching and get to work," Missandei said, snapping everyone out of their awe.

The Targaryen ship was nearly prepared as the men leaving for the rescue were helping ready the rowboats. Tyrion was watching them with Varys and Missandei, not wanting to get in the way. "If they don't come back from this, we're fucked." Tyrion openly said.

"Most indefinitely," Varys agreed, "so let's hope they return. Otherwise the world will face the wrath of five dragons, a tyrannical queen, and a hundred thousand dead men."

Tyrion scoffed at the problems ahead of them. "I think I'd stay here even if it came to that." Varys looked at him, seemingly amazed. "I'd prefer to die at home than in foreign land."

Varys eyed him curiously. "As I recall, I once heard whispers that you wanted to die at the age of eighty, with a belly full of mead and maiden's mouth around your cock."

Tyrion grimaced at him. "You and your damn birds."

"Actually, it was Bronn who told me that."

Tyrion snorted at that. Of course, it had to be him. Missandei was looking at the two like they were young school boys. As the men were just about ready to leave, Tyrion decided that this was the time to say goodbye in case it was the last. He pulled a coin out of his pocket and approach Jorah. He looked down to him and noticed the coin. "This is the coin the slaver gave me, when I suggest he free us and pay us, remember?"

"It was supposed to last us the rest of our lives."

Tyrion fiddled with it a bit longer before handing it to Jorah. "Take it with, but bring it back with the Queen. She needs you. We all do." Ser Jorah took it wearing a comforting smile before Tyrion walked over to Jon. He noticed Missandei walking with him. "I can't stress enough how much I'm against you going. But if you do manage to walk away from this… I can't think of anyone better."

Jon had a puzzled look about him. "Better than what?"

"You'll see," Tyrion said with an emotionless smile. "Just make sure that you bring her back." Jon nodded and turned his head to Missandei.

"Your grace," she said, "I want to wish you luck on your journey. Please come back to us with our queen."

"I will." There wasn't a single ounce of doubt in Jon's voice or his eyes.

He made to turn for the boat, but Missandei grabbed his sleeve. "One more thing, before you go." Jon looked at her curiously. "I heard what Qhono said to you after your duel." She leaned in and whispered something to him.

Jon's eyes seemed to widen a little before Missandei pulled back from him, smiling. He cleared his throat and faced all of Daenerys's supporters. "I wish you all good fortune in the nights to come." He joined his men and they made for the water.

As they all climbed in their boats when the waves began to carry them, Tyrion turned to Missandei. "Come, I need something to drink." His confidence seemed to shrink as the boats got farther and farther away from the shore.

"I don't think this is the best time for that." Missandei objected as she and Varys followed after him.

"There's never a best time for drinking, you just do it. Besides, the more I drink, the more I'll forget what's happening, maybe then I'll be able to work out what to do if they fail and they return without the Queen." Varys joined them as they began to walk back to the castle. "I have no doubt that they'll succeed in finding her, but if she is taken from us forever, we probably shouldn't just pack up and leave."

"What are you suggesting?" Missandei asked.

"Until they return- if they return, we do the same as we did in Mereen. We hold our ground and continue to operate at the best of our capacity."

"And if they don't return?" Varys asked.

"They will return" Missandei objected. It seemed no one shared anyone's else's feelings on the matter.

"But if they don't?"

Tyrion didn't say anything for a while. "I'm too sober to answer that at the moment." Varys only sighed and as they continued to the castle.

None of them had the appetite for breakfast or lunch. But now their appetites were getting the better of them. They were gathered around the painted table waiting for meals to be brought to them but Tyrion already downed his fourth cup of wine.

"So, my Lord Tyrion," Varys began, "what is the contingency plan for the Targaryen conquest?"

Tyrion hesitated for a moment, staring at the red of his wine. "So far, I have determined that one of four things will happen." He set the glass down of the table and cleared his throat. "Jon and his company will save our queen, defeat Euron and secure his fleet, thus the siege of King's landing can begin and Cersei will be forced to surrender and we march north to defeat the dead." That was what they all hoped for, but fate was never that kind. "Daenerys has already been killed, and by some luck they are able to either escape or kill Euron. Either one, we become leaderless. As far as we know, Jon Snow has the next claim to the Iron Throne given what we've seen of him and the dragons. In which case, we unite the North with our forces and manage to defeat Cersei one way or another and we face the army of the dead." It sounded possible, but the worst was yet to come. "Daenerys escapes, but the King in the North dies. The North hears of this and cements its claim to be independent no matter what we do. Either way, Daenerys will feel she'd owe a debt. When the dead arrive, she'd most likely send her armies to fight with the Northerners, but they still won't accept her. After that, we storm King's landing and defeat Cersei, but the seas are controlled by Euron."

"And the fourth?" Missandei asked, her voice uneasy.

"Both Jon and Daenerys die and we are without a queen and a king, despite the fact that he's not declared for us. My plan would to march North and join their forces. Either die fighting the dead, or defeat them and attempt to unite our armies and march south. But given that our queen was killed and her dream with her... I wouldn't mind watching the Red Keep burn to the ground."

Varys and Missandei looked at him as if he was the Mad King himself, but his emotionless expression didn't change. "You would spit on the work our queen has tried to achieve?" Missandei asked.

"No, I wouldn't. I would spit on the dead bodies of those who opposed us and took away the best hope of a great future from us. After that, I'd sail back to Essos, leave this place and let it fall apart."

"You'd give up," she said angrily.

"I would." Tyrion picked up his glass and drank the rest of his wine. "The Doom of Westeros, sounds catchy," he jested. He looked at the two of them and saw that they were in no mood for any form of jokes or humor. "So let's make sure it doesn't turn out that way."

"Instead of focusing on the bad," Varys suggested, "let's assume the best. Our party rescue Daenerys and make it back safely. But if they don't defeat Euron and secure his fleet, what then?"

"I had a thought," Tyrion started, "there could be a way to bring the North back into the fold without having them bend the knee to Daenerys." The idea was only that back when they were all still in Mereen, but now it had the potential to be much more.

"And how would you accomplish that? The Northerners are too stubborn. Even if their King bent the knee, they'd probably annex him from themselves and renounce him as their King."

"But what if their King didn't need to swear fealty? What if he ruled with the queen?" Varys and Missandei didn't seem surprised, but they still looked doubtful. "If Jon Snow were to marry Daenerys and sit next to her on the Throne, He would be the voice of the North and Daenerys the South."

"She did talk about sealing alliances with marriage," Missandei said, "but she can't have children, remember?"

Such was a terrible curse Daenerys had to bear. "I do, which is why it pains me to say this, but if they were to do that, she'd probably give the throne to Jon at some point and let him find someone who could continue his line."

"He wouldn't let her do that. He's too honorable of a person." She glared at with full confidence in her words. She did know their queen best out of the three of them after all.

"I know, and she probably knows as well, but I don't think that would stop her from doing something drastic."

"It wouldn't matter what she does, he wouldn't abandon her."

Tyrion raised a brow at her and leaned back in his seat. "And what makes you so sure?"

Missandei didn't answer immediately, looking down to her lap. "He's starting to fall in love with her."