Nerves were eating at him as he spotted the island up ahead. Having to keep his face still because if he didn't there was a high chance he would've already vomited. When he had fled all those years ago after killing his father with Joffrey's crossbow, he had sworn he would never set foot in Westeros again.

Yet, here was Dragonstone just up ahead.

Drogon flew down, letting out a bellowing roar, with Rhaegal and Viserion chasing after their brother towards what could only be the volcano on the island. Even from where they were, he could see it was angry and ready to spew its lava, yet it was a common thing for those who resided on the island. Hence why all towns and villages were out of the path of destruction. Maester's recorded it only seemed to erupt every one-hundred years, and each time it had hardened and created the jagged coastline which made it difficult to take. No wonder it took Stannis months to take the castle for Robert after he was crowned. The jagged terrain was bad already, combined with the fact that storms that got recorded here were easily the worst in the entirety of Westeros.

If it weren't for the sentimental value that his Queen had decided to start her campaign here, he would've suggested it as a military standpoint too. Speaking of the Queen, she was standing near the prowl of the ship, silver hair lightly braided for a change wearing a powder blue dress with dark grey bottoms which allowed her easier movement when she travelled on dragon back. Looking to the side and seeing the Martell and Tyrell ships nearby which calmed him massively. It was common knowledge that said House's despised his own and for good reason. A steady thumping was heard now, turning to face a man he had idolised as a child like thousands of others did.

It had been a dumb move for his wretched nephew to strip him of his white cloak, and it was something that was now going to haunt his sister. Something which Tyrion was glad about as Cersei certainly needed to be knocked down a few pegs. The pride sticks together. Words his father used to always say but he knew he didn't consider him to be a part of the pack. Even stating on more than one occasion he seriously considered killing him and the only thing that stopped him was Jaime wearing a white cloak.

"I never thought I'd see these shores again; it has been a long time since I was last on Dragonstone."

"Did you visit often, Lord Hand?"

"A couple of times a month, it was Ser Arthur who got the duty in protecting the Prince and Princess."

The slight wasn't missed on him, glaring slightly and not even attempting to hide it.

"Aye, the Princess my father had his most loyal man rape and split open with his sword alongside the Prince who kidnapped the Stark girl."

Two could play at subtle jabs, but Tyrion didn't dare overstep his boundary. It was high treason to belittle a Hand, being King in all but name. Well, for many rulers this was indeed the case. But not for Daenerys. Whilst she was incredibly stubborn, she knew what she wanted and was willing to try anything to get it.

"You've never disclosed how you came into her Grace's service, care to elaborate?"

"In Astapor. When your nephew dismissed me I had thought to head back to my family. My great nephew even encouraging it. I stayed for no more than a moon before deciding I was going to die a Knight and I left. I got on a ship from Plankytown to Braavos and then got on another ship from Braavos to Qarth only to find out she had left for Slaver's Bay. The Warlock's sent assassins after her to try and get the dragons as with them their power was stronger. One almost succeeded, but I got there just in time."

Impressive. First time meeting her and he had saved her life. Not like his at all. Arriving in Meereen in the midst of an uprising with the aid of Volantis, Yunkai, and Astapor. Not that it lasted for long, all it took was for Daenerys to climb atop Drogon's back and destroy their ships so they were surrounded by Dothraki and Unsullied. It was a miracle he hadn't been executed immediately.

"I wonder what kind of a mess my sister has caused. All we do know is that she blew up the Sept of Baelor with wildfire which is what drove Lady Olenna to support our Queen. But what's happening elsewhere? Is the Vale still neutral? Are the Stormland's still with Stannis? Is the North still in the hands of the Bolton's? And don't get me started on the Riverland's, naming Walder Frey Lord Paramount was a joke at best."

At least Barristan laughed a little at the last quip. Anyone would agree that old weasel was not compatible with a position as such yet due to him allowing his father to carry out one of his last atrocities in his own halls required a swallowed pride. At least when he did die his son Emmon would take over as per their agreement, making his aunt Lady Paramount of the Kingdom in question. He missed Genna, but nowhere near as much as his uncle Gerion who'd gone missing on a fool's errand to find Brightroar. It was only those two and Jaime who saw him as more than a stain on the family. The ship stalled for a second which snapped him from his thoughts, noticing with a little surprise they had now docked on the rocky shore.

Walking closer to the Queen to take in her expression, Queenly mask falling for a moment as she took a deep breath of anticipation. She'd been hours old when she had been whisked away after her mother perished from birth complications by Ser Willem Darry. Something that tied them together in shared experiences. The mask was on a few moments later as she ordered the captain to drop anchor and prepare for everyone to get off the ship. If she was nervous in any way, she wasn't showing it.

"Welcome home, my Queen."

Who it was who spoke the words Tyrion didn't know, being transfixed on Daenerys. She spoke often of how much she had wanted to come home, it must've been difficult to come to terms with that she was indeed home now. Slowly walking from the deck with himself and Ser Barristan close behind, it not missing his attention she was deliberately choosing the smoothest areas of the jagged rock to make it easier on her Hand as he could not walk unaided anymore. His brother had lost his right hand and that broke a piece of him, but if he had been dealt with the same fate as his former Commander, he might've just thrown himself from White Sword Tower.

The moment his feet landed on soft sand instead of jagged volcanic rock was jarring. Almost as white as snow and reaching down to grasp some of it in his palm, letting it filter through his fingers. Something the Queen was also doing and clearly trying her best to fight tears back. Fingers trailing along rocks and walls, looking from side to side to take everything in for the first time. Almost like they had stumbled across an ancient area long thought a myth. Was this how people felt when they found the ruined cities dotted around the northern area of Sothoryos?

Up ahead, he could see a few houses dotted around the shore, likely a fishing village. Then a large staircase which stuck out due to the stone being a polished black. The little boy inside of him jumping for joy because he had never seen blackened stone himself, Dragonstone was one of a handful of buildings still made of the material. Perhaps with the three dragons who had disappeared to the volcano would be able to revive the building method because it was known to be the strongest building material in the known world. Stronger than marble, stronger than sandstone, stronger than stone. The stories said that the only thing that could penetrate it was dragons themselves.

He'd never seen Dragonstone himself. The castle looming at the top of a hill directly in front of the volcano. Something which set him massively on edge because the last time it had erupted had been during one of the Blackfyre rebellions which means it wouldn't be long before it leaked its catastrophic contents again. Why make this exact location an outpost of Valyria? Why not one of the Stepstones where there weren't any of the blasted things. Valyrian's clearly had a fascination with them. Perhaps something to do with their fourteen gods.

His feet ached as they made their way up, but he made sure to not show this under any circumstance. Guards surrounding them just in case. As far as they were aware, Dragonstone was deserted, but one can never be too careful in a time of war. Especially when they had been removed from the war for months. Even Lord Varys was nervous, unsure if his network would still be loyal to him when they docked. That was something that bothered him massively because it took years to build up a network and if they had lost one of the most expansive ones, it would not be good in any form. It felt like hours had passed before they were finally on flat ground, being on what could only be a courtyard where what was once mosaic was now overgrown with weeds and crawling with numerous bugs. Lord Stannis really hated it here, clearly not even taking care to upkeep the castle he resided in.

Not that Tyrion could blame the man. Being given a Seat that was not the one he was brought up to take, the one he was meant to take being given to his toddler brother instead. Yet his dearest goodbrother had never saw the insult in it, which further drove a wedge between the two brothers. What would the realm have been like were they united? A brash stag and the stubborn stag? There was no use thinking on it because it was something that would never happen. Stannis was likely dead by now anyway, he certainly hoped so because the last thing they need is to deal with a Baratheon. Even if said House were kin to House Targaryen, it didn't seem to matter to them.

Once they were in front of the castle, a thought of 'is this it?' entered his mind. Compared to Casterly Rock and the Red Keep, it was tiny. Only having three floors from what he could see, although the area covered was much the same as the red castle not even far from here. If Daenerys wanted, she could fly there and kill Cersei within a matter of hours. End the war before it had even started. But that would not look good for her image. Nay, the best way to win a war is to play the game whilst they were at it. During their travel, he had taken it upon himself to teach her how to play Cyvasse. Whilst she wasn't adept, she picked up on it relatively well. Perhaps her newfound experience would help them.

As much as Tyrion hated to say it, he did not have a military mind. He would leave that to Ser Barristan who'd fought in the last Blackfyre Rebellion, the War of the Ninepenny Kings, and in Robert's Rebellion. Now, they were at the doors and his eyes widened at the massive dragon sculptures that guarded either side. Being numerous feet tall and certainly making everyone feel intimidated. But everything changed the moment the doors were opened. The inside being nowhere near as impressive as the outside. Everything was dark. From the walls which he assumed would've been painted, from the black or brown furniture, from the navy curtains blocking all sunlight from coming through the windows.

It was like this until a man came down, which if the grey robes and heavy chains were anything to go by, this was the Maester of the castle. Far too young to be Maester Cressen, cursing to himself for not having learned the name of his replacement. Eyes widening as he looked at the Queen, immediately knowing who it was who had come. Bowing lowly as a sign of respect.

"Princess, it gladdens me so you are back in Westeros- "

"It gladdens me so to be back in the land I was born in, but I am no Princess. I am the Queen, and I intend to take back the Kingdom's my ancestors built."

The Maester gulped a little, not escaping Tyrion's inquisitive gaze he was sweating.

"Pardon me for my insolence, your Grace. You are not the only person claiming to be the Queen."

Anger twisted within him now, understanding what this meant.

"If you would be so kind as to escort us to the chamber of the painted table, and then you shall brief us on the state of Westeros. Alongside whoever this other Queen is."

Daenerys wasn't stupid, it could only be one other person. Gods, what had his sister done? If she was Queen it meant Tommen was dead. Otherwise she would simply be Queen Regent. What in seven hells had happened since he had left their shores? And what had happened since Lady Olenna, Ellaria Sand, and the Greyjoy's allied with their Queen's cause? Tyrion had hoped there wouldn't be too much of a change, but clearly this was not the case. He expected for the chamber would be equally as dreary as the rest of the castle, yet when they entered his breath was taken away.

Intricate carvings of dragons, the room even shaped to be like the mouth of a dragon, overlooking a cliffside which could not be seen from the way they had walked up and gulping as it reminded him of the Sky Cells in the Eyrie. This in itself was impressive, but the legendary table dwarfed everything else in comparison. The table Aegon the Conqueror had commissioned, it hitting him said man had stood in this very room a little over three hundred years prior and planned his invasion with his few thousand men and his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys. Gods, how many people that were considered a legend for their acts had walked through here? Suddenly feeling like a child being told they could have all the sweets there was. Daenerys stood at the end of the table, her back to the cliffside below as the torches were lit to brighten the chamber. Three single words falling from her mouth.

"Shall we begin?"

And so they had. Everyone taking turns to point to all areas of the table, it amazing him just how much detail was on it. Even rivers and streams were carved into it. Wondering if this was what Westeros looked like from a birds eye view, or on dragon back, depending on which way it was looked at.

"May I know your name, Maester?"

"Pylos, your Grace. I replaced Maester Cressen who died a few years prior."

"Was he the one who delivered me?"

"Nay, he was not. The Maester who delivered yourself died in the fight to get to the castle, Maester Cressen came with Lord Stannis."

Her lips tightened slightly at the name but she didn't say anything on it.

"Tell us about the state of the Kingdom's. Who currently holds which and where everyone stands."

Taking a seat at the side of the table, looking around as if thinking where to start.

"Cersei Lannister sits on the Iron Throne after King Tommen perished in one of the aftershocks of the explosion of the Sept of Baelor."

Tyrion groaned lightly to himself as he punched the bridge of his nose. This was not good. Out of everyone at the table he knew his sister best, and she was not going to give up the throne without fighting tooth and nail. Ever since she was a little girl their father had fed into her fantasies by promising her she would be wed to Rhaegar and give him beautiful children with silver locks. Instead she'd birthed children with golden locks courtesy of their brother. As much as the pair denied it, he wasn't stupid. They were nowhere near as secretive as they believed they were. It was a miracle in itself it hadn't gotten out sooner.

"The Stormland's are not in a state to join, a raven arrived a couple of months ago confirming that Lord Stannis fell outside Winterfell alongside his remaining men. The Crownland's are under your sister but there are whispers that they plan to set in motion a Great Council. The Vale has sided with the North- "

He choked on his watered wine at this. They'd finally joined the fold?

"Lord Edmure has taken his mantle as Lord Paramount- "

"Pardon me, I thought it was Lord Walder Frey who was such?"

The silence that ensued was telling. Beginning to laugh before it sunk in. His uncle Emmon was supposed to be the next Lord, but if Edmure had taken his place that meant only one thing.

"All of House Frey was decimated in a single night, Lord Tyrion. Only the women remain and a few male children."

This fact shook everyone at the table to the core. Even Olenna seemed surprised and her face rarely changed from stoic or angry. How? House Frey had dozens of heirs; how did they all perish in a single night? Were they attacked?

"That's the thing, there was no attack. There was a feast held and the next morning all were found in a pool of blood according to reports."

If they weren't shocked before they certainly were now. If it wasn't an attack it left only one option. An assassin. Or a few assassins. Clearly people who had a severe vendetta against said House. The only thing about that was a lot of House's despised them.

"And the North?"

The Maester's face scrunched in a little at the question, which was all the telling that something big had happened in said Kingdom.

"Ramsay Bolton was defeated outside of Winterfell by many House's loyal to House Stark and if reports are true, a couple of thousand Wildling's. They have proclaimed Jon Snow as their King- "

"Ned Stark's bastard? I travelled with him to the Wall, he took his vows."

"So he's an oath breaker like his father then, that should be easy."

That was Ellaria who spoke those words. She hated the Stark's just as much as his own House did, but for drastically different reasons. The Stark's had risen in support for the Rebellion, had aided in the deaths of Princess Elia, Prince Aegon, and Princess Rhaenys. He'd only been a boy himself but the infamous fight between Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark was well known.

"No one knows with certainty. There is a rumour going around of a mutiny but nothing else. Only other correspondence was from the Maester stationed at Castle Black stating no oaths were broken."

"But if no oaths were broken, he would still be there?"

Maester Pylos had a look of confusion on his face, confirming he was baffled with it. His mind previously was scrambling to piece it all together.

"May I enquire the name of the Maester who confirmed no oaths were broken?"

He took a long gulp of his wine and almost choked again as the name was spoken. He was still alive? How old was he now? He must've been nearing one hundred and ten.

"Aemon is a Valyrian name."

Wait, did the Queen not know she had another family member still alive? If the anguished look on her face that appeared for barely a moment was anything to go by, she did not. Even Ser Barristan and Lady Olenna seemed surprised.

"Maester Aemon took the Black so he could not be used as a tool to push his brother Aegon to the side who was voted in during a grand council, your Grace. I honestly wouldn't have even considered him still being alive. I have to commend the man, not many can say they have lived to be more than one hundred- "

"Is he still bound to his oaths?"

Tyrion immediately understood what she was hinting at now. Either a trip to the Wall to meet her only remaining family member whom she didn't even know existed until moments before or release him from his vows so he could come to meet her. Not a terrible idea, he had gotten along with the elderly Maester well. And his small stash of old Valyrian tomes were ones he desperately wanted to read. Then again, he might just make a fool of himself like he had done travelling through Essos to Meereen because he could barely speak or understand the language. Varys had taught him a little on the ship back, being from Lys himself and thus being the tongue of his mother.

"There is upheaval of this in the Citadel."

"How come, Maester?"

There was that fire he had come to know from the short time he had known the Queen. Oddly enough, Ellaria and Olenna were remaining quiet. The latter surprising him as she might've been family to the man had she not set her eyes on Luthor Tyrell and the prizes she would obtain from marrying him. A Princess with no path to the throne or a Lady Paramount of a Great House which gave the opportunity to wed a child into the royal family? If he had the same position, he would have done exactly the same as she had.

"The King in the North released him from his vows under their heathen Gods. The Citadel as a result does not recognise this release as he was sworn in under the Seven. Only a High Septon can do so, but there is no High Septon yet. The last one perished in wildfire and a new one has not been selected yet."

A strange knot formed within him now, suddenly realising just how fucked they were. The Riverland's would likely remain neutral as they have been ripped apart in the recent wars, as would the Stormland's. Not all of Dorne was with them as not all agreed with Ellaria killing Prince Doran and driving Princess Arianne away. The Crownland's were with his sister, and then there was the Vale standing with the North. The most surprising of all? That the dour bastard he had travelled to the Wall with whose head had been filled with stories of how noble it was to join said order was named a King.

Perhaps it wasn't just his estranged wife who had been holding back with their abilities.