Author's Note: Two updates in a row! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! This one jumps forward in time the slightest bit. Also, my story doesn't focus on battles so much as the dynamics behind them and aftermath, so that is more what will be focused on here in the next few chapters.

Jaime smiled to himself as he looked over the last letter he had received from Amarah before departing Castle Black many days ago. The creases in the parchment were worn now from many re-readings, but the words never dulled in their interest for him. It comforted Jaime that he had at least one constant in the ever unpredictable world around him. The dead might rise to fight the living, but Amarah Baratheon's wit would never be dulled.

He was scanning a section of her letter that spoke of Sandor Clegane's ill-timed encounter with a candle at the supper table when he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps across the frozen ground leading to his tent. Tucking the letter inside the fold of his leather jacket, Jaime rose to his feet to greet his unseen visitor. When the footsteps stopped at the entrance to his tent, the flap lifted as the guest slipped inside.

Jaime was greeted by the face of Jon Snow, a face he had come to know rather well after spending over a month with the motley company of wildings and rangers who roamed the waste beyond the wall searching for an army of the undead. Though they had engaged in several struggles that ended in more casualties on the mortal side, not much progress had been made. Jaime knew there was much more to the fight than they had seen so far, and he dreaded that confrontation when it would eventually come.

Jon's face looked grim as he entered the tent, but, Jaime noted sardonically, that seemed to be the man's favorite expression. "We have a visitor, and he would like to see you." Jon didn't bother with any additional information beyond that cryptic greeting.

"Is this visitor of the living or undead variety?" Jaime asked with a smirk before plopping back in his chair. "If he's living it would be best to get to this conversation as quickly as possible since it is unlikely in this frozen portion of the seven hells that he'll stay that way for long."

"Ah, brother dear, just as soft spoken as always, I see," spoke a new but all-too-familiar voice from just beyond the entrance to the tent. Jaime quickly reclaimed his stance in front of his chair before reaching for the blade at his side. That was the greeting that met Tyrion Lannister as his half black, half golden head poked though the flap of the tent to find a wicked blade mere inches from his unsightly face.

Tyrion clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Surely I warrant a friendlier greeting than that."

Jaime was torn between relief, agony, and anger at seeing his brother again, though the anger won out in the end. "It's better than you deserve."

The nonchalant gleam in Tyrion's eye flashed with a spark of anger at Jaime's accusation. "What I did was nothing compared to your sin. You," he spit the one word out of his mouth like the direst accusation. "The brother who claimed to love me but lied to me to keep our father happy. You broke the trust between us. That is far worse than anything I could have ever done."

Jaime let the sword in his hand drop limply to his side as Tyrion continued his bitter rant. "You killed our father."

"What of it?" Tyrion lifted one hand to wave off the accusation as if it were a pesky fly. "You allowed my wife to be raped like any barnyard animal by our father's men, and you let me stand there and watch it all. You cannot imagine how many times I played that scene in my head, torturing myself with it since I last saw you. How many nights I dreamed of choking the life from your eyes as I did his, allowing you to feel some fraction of my pain."

"Is that what you want, Tyrion?" Jaime asked with a cynical laugh. "Will it heal the gulf between us if you end my life as you did his?"

Tyrion contemplated his question for several tense moments. "No," the word fell softly from his lips though he followed them with this chilling retort. "Not yet. We have to save the kingdoms first."

With the wave of hurt and pain that had washed over Jaime at seeing Tyrion again, the question as to his presence here had been lost in the flow. Now with the bitter words thrown between them like a gauntlet, he was left to wonder how Tyrion had come to be there, in the middle of the land beyond the wall no less.

"Why are you here, Tyrion?" Jaime asked, falling back into his chair.

Despite the change in position, Jaime was no less guarded than he was moments ago. Tapping his fingertips against the sword once again sheathed at his side, he watched his brother's progress as he walked around the cramped space. Snow still stood silently by the door where he had remained since the start of the brothers' heated conversation. The Lord Commander's eyes were trained carefully on Tryion, never wavering from their diminutive focus.

Tyrion ceased his restless pacing long enough to answer Jaime's question. "I've come on behalf of my queen."

"Your queen," Jaime tested the words on his tongue as if repeating a foreign language.

Tyrion gave a laugh so harsh it grated on Jaime's ears. "No," he said, sarcasm dripping from that one, small syllable. "It's not our dear sister I'm referring to. Perhaps you're sitting there wondering where I've been these many long months since my disgraceful departure from the capital."

Jaime simply turned a stony stare on his brother, letting his silence answer for him. Tyrion gave another mirthless chuckle before continuing. "Well, after many hellish nights crossing the Dothraki sea, I found myself in an even greater hell of slave trading. After suffering through these trials, I was fortunate enough to be rescued by my queen. Perhaps you would know her better as Daenerys Targaryen."

"The daughter of the mad queen." Jaime regarded his brother skeptically. "What a wise alliance you've formed. Perhaps she'll be relentless enough to succeed where her father did not. Instead of simply burning down King's Landing she can torch the entire seven kingdoms. It would certainly save us the trouble to rescuing the people of Westeros from an undead army."

"So quick to judge without all the facts," Tryion scolded Jaime lightly. Taking a seat opposite him, he gestured for the still upright Commander Snow to seat himself within their circle of confidence.

Though he didn't seem too pleased with the silent order, Snow complied. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to give us those facts, Lord Tyrion."

"That is my entire purpose for being here," Tyrion agreed. "While she is the daughter of a mad king, Daenerys Targaryen is as good and wise as her father was reckless, mean, and foolish. She intends to take back the iron throne of Westeros, and not only does she intend to rule the kingdoms here but also the free lands where atrocities such as the slave trade abound more freely than she would like. We received word some time ago of the trouble you were having here with the…" he trailed off for a moment while trying to remember the exact words. "White walkers? Is that what you call them? Yes, well she certainly can't rule a kingdom buried beneath a world of snow. So, I have been sent to assess what precisely needs to be done in order to rectify the situation."

Jaime pushed away from his chair and bent close enough to his brother's face to see every scar and cut that marred his skin. "Assess the situation?" he threw the words back in Tryion's face. "This is not a diplomatic negotiation, Tyrion. There are creatures my mind cannot even begin to comprehend that are marching daily towards our land. They mean to strike us all down, every last man, woman, and child. I've seen what they can do, settlements burned till only charred ashes remain, the corpses of little children strewn across the bloody snow. There is great danger here, danger that we probably can't stop despite our best efforts. You'd do better to return to this queen of yours and tell her that unless she intends to resurrect an army of dragons to win this hopeless war, there's nothing to be done."

Instead of cowering back in defeat at his brother's harsh scolding, Tryion's eyes lit with triumph. "What a wonderful solution you've conjured up for us. Dragons would be just the thing would they not?"

"Perhaps your time in the sun of the dessert dulled your wits," Jaime answered in disgust.

Tyrion stood, the triumph in his gaze undimmed by his brother's sour mood. "Come with me and see how much my wits have dimmed." Jaime stood stock-still, not willing to follow his addle-brained sibling anywhere. "Perhaps you wondered how I could have come this far from the free lands all by myself," Tyrion said when it became clear Jaime still doubted his earnestness. "If you'll simply come with me, then all will be explained."

"It's quite something," Snow finally spoke, breaking his solemn silence.

Though still not quite convinced, Jaime followed his brother out into the harsh light of wintry day. Tryion trudged on through the snow that reach almost up to his waist, barely paying any attention to the harsh wind that whipped around them, biting at their skin with its glacial ferocity.

Wherever he was taking them both, it seemed to be quite a ways off from the rest of the camp. Jaime felt uneasy about parting with the rest of the men in any capacity, but he kept his reservations to himself and continued on after Tyrion. Jaime kept his eyes trained on Tryion's back for most of their trek through the snow, but once they were clear of the tents he lifted his eyes to find the most astonishing sight he had ever seen in the whole of his dissipated life.

"I told you it was quite something," Jon Snow's voice sounded close to his ear.

Jaime didn't bother to return the remark. He was too stunned into silence by the astonishing creature that stood before him in the powdery snow. He had heard tales of dragons beyond the Dothraki Sea but had believed such gossip to be completely ludicrous. The massive dragon that currently stood in front of him, gleaming green and bronze in the sunlight overhead, only confirmed that such ridiculous tales had not been so far-fetched after all.

"A beautiful creature, is it not," Tryion spoke with the pride of a newly minted father. He approached the fearsome-looking thing and placed his hand over the slits of its nostrils that puffed steam into the cold air. "I would like you introduce you both to Rhaegal, first of his name. Well, as far as I know. There could have been another Rhaegal, but the other dragons lived so long ago, we'll most likely never know for certain."

Jaime didn't feel brave enough to move any closer to the dragon currently being stroked by his brother like a pet cat, but he had recovered himself enough to speak. "Where did you acquire him?"

"I didn't acquire him so much as train him," Tryion answered, keeping his eyes on his monstrous companion. "He's one of three dragons that were raised by Queen Daenerys. My queen rides the largest of all her children, Drogon, herself."

"So that's how you came here," Jaime finally reasoned out the meaning of his brother's sudden appearance. "You rode this green beast across the kingdoms beyond the wall."

Tyrion gave the scaly nose one final pat before stepping away. "I don't prefer to call him that, but, yes, essentially that's it. And now that the question of my wits is out of the way, there's much more I need to discuss, with both of you." He made certain to include Jon Snow in that remark. "Though I'd prefer to do so with a bottle of wine. It makes tedious conversations less so."

Without waiting for their reply, he started back towards the camp, leaving his creature standing placidly where he had left it. Not caring to be near the dragon for a moment longer than needed, Jaime followed his little brother back through the snow.

"How precisely will a bottle of wine help explain the situation?" This question came from Commander Snow who trudged along beside Jaime.

The older man didn't offer much by way of explanation. "Some things never change."

I had originally wanted to make this chapter longer, but there is so so so much exposition that goes into explaining how all these prophecies will work themselves out at the end of the book that I'm having to break the last section of the story into more chapters than I had previously anticipated. Stay tuned for the next chapter though! The Red Lady will also make an appearance to help shed a bit more light on the situation. (No pun intended).