Flashback
Near the other end of this rickety bridge over the Skahazadan, stood a man whom all the Ironborn clearly gave great deference to.
"Name yourself," A more brutish than he was who wore a kracken on his helm. A great hellhorn poked up from behind his back. And there it is, Jorah thought, the source of this all.
"Ser Jorah Mormont, and who would you be lord Squid?"
"Victarion Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Fleet, and your death!" The big man in plate threw back.
Greyjoy charged at him with a longaxe. Jorah answered with his shield which somehow stopped the blow but still took damage.
And so they danced the dance of their people, the Bear and the Kracken.
Jorah quickly thrust his blade at the lobstered steel of Victarion Greyjoy's gauntlet.
His opponent simply caught the blade which was now inside his gauntlet and seized it casting away both his sword and bloody gauntlet which landed into the river.
"My sword," He heard himself say in horror.
"Go and get it!" Greyjoy bellowed as his bared right arm shot up and wraped itself around Jorah's neck. It was an ugly thing, covered in blood and black as soot and it felt like fire.
Jorah felt his dagger in his hand that was shealthed to his waist and struck the squid lord in his demon arm, which earned a deep bellow of pain his Greyjoy staggered back and released his grip on Jorah's neck.
He fell and the bridge seemed to shudder on impact. It moved only slightly as he tried to rise as longax charged once again.
The ax struck clean through the greaves on his left leg as he got up and he felt himself collapse unable to support the weight of his mismatched company steel any more.
He was turned over his Ironborn opponent, who lowered his ax and positioned it for a killing blow. Just before Victarion could lift the ax and strike, Jorah hooked his arms around the ax. The ironman did not try to wrest the ax from his from his grip, but simply lifted him into the air. Jorah released his left arm and seized the hellhorn by the mouthpiece. He blew into the horn with all his remaining strength as he was cast back to the bridge.
The horn was fire, but it was also death. Not that it mattered to him anymore. For a barest second he could feel power coursing through his veins, before feeling fire in his lungs.
Jorah felt his dying self being rolled over by Victarion Greyjoy's plated boots. He would live long enough to drown, he knew, but he would never see his silver queen again.
Nonetheless, he felt one final glimmer of satisfaction as he felt the air go from arid to scorching.
I will drown Ironborn, but you will burn.
Tyrion
The fog was thick over Dragonstone this morning.
It felt fulfilling to be back in Westeros. At least with an army at his back. For the first time in nearly two decades, the banner of the three-headed dragon flew over Dragonstone. Tyrion had risen high indeed, in the last year. He had gone from being a fugitive to a slave to a respected if not trusted advisor of Queen Daenerys Targaryen. He had been offered his position, after unraveling a resistance movement within Mereen that was picking off the queen's supporters one by one.
"Could you send a raven to Kings Landing?" Archmaester Marwyn accepted the message that Tyrion offered in his hand.
"Would the queen like that?"
He shrugged "depends on the queen I suppose, I just want my sweet sister to know that i'm coming home."
The square faced maester allowed a smirk, "I will send this at once Lord Hand."
Tyrion was down looking at the painted table. He sat in the same seat from which Aegon the Conqueror planned his invasion of Westeros three centuries past and from which Stannis Baratheon brooded over the same table three years ago.
Much had changed since he fled Westeros. He looked at the map. Stannis Baratheon had lost Storm's End and Dragonstone, but won the North. On the Iron Islands, Euron Greyjoy sat the Seastone Chair and had taken the shield Islands, the Arbor, and was besieging Oldtown. Aegon and the Golden Company had taken the Stormlands and aligned with Dorne. Cersei had fled King's Landing with Tommen for the protection of Harrenhal and Littlefinger who held the Vale and much of the Riverlands. Had Cersei lost her mind? His sister trusting Littlefinger surprised even him, for she knew how treacherous he was.
From what he had heard from the sailors in Volantis, his sister had run the Seven Kingdoms into the ground in ways he had not thought possible. Tyrion could not imagine what possesed Cersei to restore the Faith Militant, did she really think that faith would fight for a queen such as Cersei. The Faith Militant could barely tolerate the Targaryens who had dragons to back their legitimacy as kings and queens.
Tyrion found it ironic that Cersei had been imprisoned by the very organization she allowed to rearm for crimes of incest, fornication, high treason, and deicide. Cersei was without a doubt guilty of every charge they could name. But why would she kill the High Septon, the man he appointed was deep in the Lannister pockets.
Tyrion offered a cask of wine for every Westerosi sailor he could find in Volantis. All he asked in return was that they spread the word of his impending return from exile. He wanted Westeros to know that he was coming back to exact revenge on all those who dared sneer at him.
Shortly before leaving Volantis to invade Westeros, he learned that Osmund Kettleback confessed to fucking Cersei and killing the High Septon. He could not help but imagine how Jaime was taking this. She's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably even moonboy for all I know. Tyrion wondered how much of that statement his brother believed now.
Cersei confessed only to the crime of fornication, the one charge that would not put her under Ser Ilyn's blade. As punishment she was shorn of her beautiful golden hair and marched naked to the Red Keep under the mocking eyes of the smallfolk who called her names and threw dung at her. He almost wished he was in King's Landing to see Cersei's walk of shame. Was Jaime there to see it? He could almost see the disappointment in Jaime's eyes in knowing that Cersei was doubtlessly unfaithful.
Cersei cheated justice with a trial by combat. Her champion, a new knight of the Kingsguard, Ser Robert Strong killed his cousin Lancel who fought to bring justice to Cersei. Strong … as in the Strongs of Harrenhal, that family died out long ago. Only yesterday, he learned that faith had declared Ser Robert Strong an abomintion born of necromancy. Tyrion wondered just how much his sister had changed.
The Tyrells were left holding King's Landing after Cersei fled. Cersei would at least have the sense to take Margaery Tyrell with her as a hostage to ensure that her family would not declare for a Targaryen. Still, Tyrion wondered if they would even put up a fight. Mace Tyrell must be terrified right now to be the last surviving judge in my mummer's farce of a trial thought Tyrion.
He was not entirely as bitter now as he was leaving Westeros; it felt good to be back in a position of power. Though Daenerys did not like him, she valued his council and understood the importance of rewarding competent supporters. No queen would ever love him; he had long since accepted that fact.
Looking out of the Stone Dragon Tower, to the harbor of Dragonstone, he could see the fleet returning from Pentos with reinforcements and food stores that would surely buy the loyalty of the smallfolk. Soon the dragons would descend on King's Landing.
The silver queen entered the room. It was a shame that she disliked him; he really would have enjoyed a night with her. It still felt ironic that he rescued a sellsword who actually had a night with her. The Mother of Dragons was grateful for that, at least . Behind her were Ser Barristan Selmy and Wulfe one-ear, the acting master of ships and Victarion Greyjoy's former right hand man. Following her return to Mereen near the end of the siege, Victarion Greyjoy had attempted to take Daenerys as a salt wife only to be bathed in dragonfire by Drogon. The surviving Ironborn wisely chose to back the dragon queen.
The dragonhorn that the brash Admiral of the Dothraki Sea belived would give him victory was of no use to Greyjoy after he died. His death had freed both Rhaegal and Viserion from the very bondage that had destroyed the Volanteen navy and the Yunkish army. Jorah Mormont, had given his life in killing Victarion Greyjoy, in the greatest duel since Tyrion's own trial by combat.
Qarth and New Ghis wisely sued for peace, but Volantis refused to bend the knee. Moqorro had seen a slave revolt in the flames, and sure enough Tyrion entered Volantis ahead of Daenerys with a small army of freedman plus the second sons, the Windblown, and the Stormcrows who travelled to Volantis with the remains of the Iron Fleet. They landed only to meet no resistance outside of the black wall.
Three days later the true heir of Valyria and Westeros entered the heart of Volantis with her fabled unsullied to find ruin. Many proud families of the old blood that ruled Volantis for generations were extinguished root and stem like the Reynes and Tarbecks years before. He would not allow his queen to repeat her mistakes in Mereen. She still thought it was harsh, but the results spoke for themselves, and the plunder taken financed her return from exile with a large army of freed slaves.
Tyrion wondered if someone had made a song about it yet. Are you proud of me now father, can you see me from whatever hell the father above sent you. Of all your children, I am the most like you. There were days that he wished his father was still alive to see this.
Unlike father however, Tyrion had never ordered the death of anyone under the age of twelve namedays. Many orphans of Noble Valyrian birth where fostered by the queen's most dedicated supporters. One such orphan, Belicho Maegyr, one of late Triarch Maegyr's numerous grandsons became Tyrion's new squire.
"Lord Hand, we sail for King's Landing Tomorrow," Wulfe one-ear said tersely. Tyrion knew that the Ironborn hated taking orders from a dwarf, but he didn't care. Unlike King's Landing, everybody knew better than to cross him.
Cersei
When she arrived at Castle Rosby a fortnight past, nearly Fifteen hundred men waiting for her, a thousand from Duskendale and five hundred from Rosby itself. There were not very many houses in the Crownlands that she could rely on. Certainly not the Stokeworths. But those who were with her, proved to be generous, if not slightly grudging hosts. Rosby, however had no lord at this time, and therefore nobody to complain about their dwindling foodstores
Cersei now had a total of eigtheen hundred foot and three hundred horse to fight for Tommen. Lord Baelish had promised to bring twenty thousand men to Harrenhal from the Vale. In addition, Lord Daven commanded an army of fifteen thousand from the Westerlands and Riverlands.
To her knowledge the Tyrells had a prodigious forty thousand foot and five thousand knight to face an army nearly hald it's size from Aegon the Pretender.
Following her departure, many would have no doubt marched south to relieve Oldtown from the Ironborn.
As much as she hated to leave King's Landing and the Red Keep, she also felt relieved. In the dead of night, Cersei fled the Red Keep with Tommen and her best retainers. He would be safe from that Targaryen pretender, the faith, the Tyrells and Tyrion. She remembered the raven she received shortly before leaving.
Sweet Sister
You are not father. You may have cheated justice, but your days are numbered. I serve a new queen younger and even more beautiful than you. She does not betray her faithful supporters, unlike you sweet Cersei. You could not even remain faithful to Jaime. You and father both have taken all I held dear. Soon I will repay the favor in full measure.
Cersei remembered the signature which was signed in Tyrion's unmistakle small but neat handwriting.
Tyrion Lannister
Lord of Casterly Rock and Winterfell, Warden of the West and hand of the one true queen of Westeros, Daenerys Targaryen the mother of dragons.
It rankled Cersei to no end when she finally realized where Tyrion was. Her little brother had escaped death once more only to come back with Rhaegar Targaryen's little sister. When Qyburn informed her of the talk on the docks, that Tyrion was heading west, she could almost see Tyrion's mismatched eyes shining with malice. At first, Cersei thought it was a ruse to fool her into thinking that he left King's Landing.
Since the word got out, she saw fewer and fewer people claiming to have her brother's head.
With the exception of Margaery, whom Cersei practically kidnapped as a hostage, Cersei had left the Tyrells to hold King's Landing. They could keep the Iron Throne warm for the new Targaryen queen and her valonqar. The Iron Throne was still intact but the throne room was greatly damaged. Cersei had ordered the Alchemists to destroy the throne room and they had only been successful in partially collapsing the roof. Cersei felt a bitter smile on her face when she thought about who would sit the Iron Throne next. Let them feel the hollow victory, she would win this war for good and retake the throne for Tommen.
Tommen was her only remaining child. Myrcella had been wounded in Dorne; she had lost an ear, to a catspaw of Tyrion. The wound had festered and Myrcella had died of an infection or poison. And now everybody was out to get her last boy.
"Your grace, we are ready." Ser Meryn gestured towards the gate. She mounted a blood bay that had been led to her by a nervous squire, and followed her kingsguard to join the army that was already on the move. It was mid-morning, and now time to move further north to the next stop on the road, Antlers.
She had to go without the comforts of the royal wheelhouse; it was difficult enough to travel in the summer with it. Cersei could not afford to lose time on the road to Harrenhal with half a foot of snow. A day on horseback was not as comfortable as the wheelhouse, but at least she felt like a proud queen leading an army.
She saw Ser Robert Strong on foot marching with the vanguard as he was too big to ride a horse. He always wore his suit of plate. She had never seen him outside of his armor, nobody had. The rest of the Kingsguard shunned Ser Robert as did everybody else. The men, who marched behind him in fact, seemed to do so out of fear above anything else.
There was talk Cersei knew, that she had resorted to sorcery to hold on to the throne. Even if it were true, what proof did the faith have? The high septon declared Ser Robert Strong an abomintion born of necromancy, but only after she left the capital. The High Sparrow was a truly dauntless man who feared nothing, but tensions between the Faith and the Iron Throne were dangerously high. She wondered how they would treat the Tyrells.
Cersei was not worried about the faith; King's Landing would be sacked multiple times by the end of the war and sooner or later that sparrow would have his ugly head on a pike.
Arya
The ship had taken Arya to Dragonstone. The Targaryen Queen was set to invade Westeros soon. She had heard that they were only waiting for the ships to return from Pentos before moving on King's Landing itself.
Considering the nature of the dragon queen's armies, few would ask questions about an orphaned girl of twelve as they took all kinds of people. From Dothraki to Ironmen, it seemed that she could always find someone from anywhere in the world.
Queen Cersei, Ser Meryn, Ser Ilyn, Dunsen. Her list was growing smaller. Soon at least one of them would be burned alive by the dragons she hoped.
Her killing of Raff the Sweetling had not gone unnoticed by the kindly man or Izembaro for that matter. Arya was promptly discharged from the Faceless men. At least she got her face back, thought Arya. It felt surprisingly good to have her identity back.
If there was one thing that she had learned above all else in Braavos, it was that she was Arya Stark, and no matter what name she answered to or what face she wore, she would always be Arya.
They had also given her free passage out of Braavos for the city of Pentos. From Pentos, she joined the cause of the Queen Daenerys under the name Jeyne Rivers. She had long since learned the benefits of hiding in plain sight, and could easily pass for a bastard of the North.
The harbor town was teeming with activity; they would leave on the morrow for King's Landing. She could hear one of the Dothraki complaining about spending more time on the poison water. Stupid Dothraki thought Arya; they seemed to think that life revolved around horses.
That night she had another wolf-dream. As always, she tasted the blood of the horse, as Nymeria bit into the horse's flank throwing the rider in a grey surcoat from his horse. Arya felt satisfaction as she noticed the twin towers of Frey on the man's surcoat. She felt her wolf howl in delight. Although most of her family was dead, she could tell from Nymeria that Bran, Rickon and Jon were still out there somewhere.
Up next: Jon Snow, Dany, and Samwell
I only added the Jorah flashblack, after realizing that I marked him as KIA, in this version. Killing Jorah before the story was a bit of a dilemma for me, as I was not sure if I was going to need him later on. I only did so when I decided that Jorah's death worked better for the story than his continued survival.