33. Tyrion
The throne room smelt of putrid ash and brimstone. It was hot and Tyrion coughed as the dust and smoke obstructed everything from his breathing to his sight. Yet, he saw clear as day the doomed figure of the Mountain, appear in the door. Arya had wiped her blade clean of his sister's blood before turning on the imposing man.
Tyrion had the good sense to pick up Jaime's sword as he joined his brother still cradling Cersei's lifeless form.
The Mountain took one look at them all and then at Cersei and he drew his sword. A beast of a weapon that had Tyrion gulping for mercy. But Arya was not phased as she simply swivelled the knife in her hand. What followed was the most extraordinary dance between two combatants Tyrion had ever seen. Where Arya was quick and agile, fluid and graceful, the Mountain was thundering and loud and crude in his movements. But she would only be able to outmanoeuvre the man for so long.
"Jaime," Tyrion begged, "We have to go. Now."
He looked up at Tyrion in aghast. Jaime had still been rocking Cersei in his arms, her blood staining her dress and his clothes too. His golden hand was now smeared with blood. But Tyrion knew they couldn't linger and they had to leave before the whole Keep came down on them. Or the Mountain killed them all. The gaping hole in the Keep showed the destruction that had been laid to the rest of the city. Smoke arose from all corners and buildings crumbled in on themselves.
"Jaime, come on," Tyrion urged and when more rubble and debris fell, Jaime finally acquiesced.
He reluctantly let go of Cersei. They both knew they had no choice but to leave her behind. Tyrion felt that destroyed Jaime more than anything else.
The heavy grunting of the Mountain and Arya fighting caught their attention once more. Jaime clumsily reached for his sword, pushing himself up and joining the fight. For a brief moment, Tyrion thought he would strike down Arya but he didn't. Instead, he stepped in stride with her and they battled the Mountain together. Tyrion was left with his sister's body. Looking down at her, he couldn't see all the things she had once been. There was undoubtedly a macabre beauty in her death and it gave Tyrion chills to think it did not disturb him nearly as much as he initially thought it would.
He heard Jaime cry out and turned quickly to see the Mountain slash viciously at him. Tyrion searched around them, eyes darting over the rubble and chaos for another sword to help them. The Mountain had Jaime pinned to the floor, swords raised above him as Arya was kneeling some distance away, looking quite winded.
The mountain raised his sword and Tyrion did not think the Gods would be so cruel as to have him lose both his siblings in one day. But the gods must have pitied him as another sword appeared throwing the mountain off balance.
"Hello brother," the Hound grinned.
Startled for only a moment, the Mountain stared his brother down and then they engaged in the deadliest battle. While the Mountain might have been bigger, the Hound was not to be underestimated. Together Arya and the Hound battled against the Mountain, driving him back and wearing him down. The floor beneath them shook again and it was warning enough.
"We need to go now!" Tyrion yelled at them.
Arya had managed to get up behind the Mountain and she sliced her blade across his throat as the Hound drove his sword under the armour and into his belly. Arya jumped off, stumbling and rolling to the side as the Hound ran forward, pushing his brother through the gaping hole of the Keep. The Mountain tried to grab his brother, no doubt to take him down with him, but he missed, by mere marks. His fingers scraped through the air and then he fell far from their view. The Hound turned to them with a deranged sort of smile on his face.
"How … what ...?" Jaime spluttered.
"The Queen sent me," Clegane answered. "No not your queen," he said looking at Tyrion who had been frowning. "The Queen in the North sent me."
"Why?"
"To fetch her good-sister," Clegane shrugged. "Plus if you 'avent fucking noticed, the city's gone to shit. Again."
"How do we get out now?" Tyrion asked.
"Same way you came in," Clegane told them. "Golden Army is all but gone, most of the fleet in the bay has been destroyed. We should be able to make it back to Rosby Road."
"W-why would we go back?" Tyrion asked. The smoke in the room was becoming too much for him.
"I don't fucking know," Clegane spat. "You can choose to stay here or come with me, but I'm not staying another fuckin' minute in this shithole."
He turned and didn't bother to look at the hole through which his brother fell. He walked to the door. Arya followed him just barely glancing over her shoulder at them. There was no choice about it. They couldn't stay there, not with everything so precarious. So they followed him out of the room.
Clegane led them from the Keep just as Arya had led them into it; quickly and without fuss. Tyrion half expected to see some armed forces at the Iron Gate, but all they saw was carnage. The streets had been torched either by dragonfire or wildfire. Both still burned a little here and there, the smoke and smell of it worse than anything else. Then of course came the bodies of the injured or dead. Tyrion had tripped over no less than three people as they hurried to the gate. The streets of Fleabottom had always been crowded but this was chaos and destruction all rolled into one. At some point, it got too much for Tyrion, who had to stop to empty his stomach with what little wine he had consumed. The gates had been broken down, by those trying to escape the city no doubt. They crossed it and made their way up Rosby Road. They had neither horse nor wagon when they left the city gates and Tyrion was sure he was about to keel over soon. His body arched, his legs pulling from the strain with each step. He was certain the only thing keeping them going was the rush he felt from everything that had happened. Rosby castle seemed further away than it should be when Clegane led them up the road to a horse and cart with an unexpected sight on it.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" Tyrion snapped as they all climbed up onto the cart. Jaime gave him a hand and he didn't care that he might have seemed helpless in that moment. He certainly felt like it.
Varys huffed but handed him a moleskin Tyrion hoped was filled with wine. "The city has been sacked."
"Yes, thank you, we hadn't noticed," Jaime quipped angrily.
"Cersei is dead," Tyrion said not delaying it any further.
Varys blanched, "Daenerys was hit in the chest with an arrow." Even Clegane paused, turning back to hear them. "Drogon was shot from the sky by one of Euron's special arrows. She nearly fell from him when Jon Snow pulled her up."
"So how did she get an arrow in her chest?" Tyrion asked.
"A lucky shot, I suspect," Varys said with a shrug.
"Is she…" Tyrion trailed off looking at the others.
"No," Varys answered, "The maester's are doing all that they can."
"What of the city?" Jaime asked.
Clegane had put the horse into a well-paced trot as they continued up Rosby Road. "It's not a city anymore. It's a fucking graveyard."
They all wisely decided not to say anything to that. Instead, Varys supplied them with some well-needed information. "The Stark forces now hold the city, with the aid of what is left of the Dothraki and the Unsullied. The Golden company has been all but decimated."
"You sound disappointed by that," Tyrion noted wryly.
"Well, she did pay a handsome price for them. One would expect better results." Varys argued.
"They're fucking cunts, the lot of them," Clegane said gruffly.
Tyrion dismissed Clegane's grumblings as the cart bumped along the road. They hurried as best they could, and all the while Tyrion looked between Jaime staring down at his bloodied hands and Arya whose face was as calm as ever. He couldn't understand it. None of it.
"The face … where… how…?" Tyrion stammered. He turned to Arya, looking expectantly at her.
Varys looked at him and then at Arya, just as eager for an answer. It almost shocked Tyrion to think his all-knowing friend wouldn't know the answer to this.
Arya smiled, "A gift from the gods."
"What kind of God lets you do that?"
"The kind you should not wish to meet so soon, my lord," Arya answered. "Death."
He was not pleased with her answer by any means but in the same breath he was not entirely surprised. Rather, Tyrion chose to worry over what awaited them at Rosby Castle.
"Are they hopeful she will survive?" Tyrion asked Varys quietly.
"They refuse to say, which can only mean she's either already dead or they are simply buying time," Varys answered looking grim.
"And what exactly awaits our return?"
Varys didn't look too eager over that question either. "I cannot say with great certainty, my friend." His words were slow and careful but Tyrion could read the slight fear in them. Tyrion raised a brow when he realised there was more Varys was not telling him. "She seems to believe we've betrayed her. Our disappearance at the start of this was noted and our Queen sees that as a betrayal."
Tyrion scoffed in pure irritation. "We went to talk with Cersei! To try and get her to see reason! Surely she can – "
"Understand?" Varys asked derisively. "Yes, because patience and understanding are such strong suits of hers."
"But with Cersei ... gone – " he paused looking over at Jaime, still with a haunted look in his eyes, "maybe she'll understand why I had to leave." He turned to Varys, "Why were you gone?" he asked sharply.
"For much the same reason you were," Varys replied. There was no hesitation or lie in his answer. "In any case, I felt it was best to take care of Qyburn. After all, he did turn my little birds against me."
For a brief moment, Tyrion was reminded that Varys was nearly as vengeful as the rest who had played this game. He was just better at hiding it.
"What do we do now?" Tyrion asked.
"Pray."
"For what?" Tyrion's question had them all wondering for a moment. What did they pray that Daenerys live or die? And what of their fate?
"I don't know," came Varys' truthful answer.
"There is nothing left to pray for," Jaime told them gruffly.
The Hound laughed coldly. "Spoken like a broken-hearted man."
They didn't speak much after that. The cart rattled noisily along the path and Tyrion was almost worried they would be heard miles away. Everything around them was eerily silent. An odd hush that had only once before fallen the lands, Jaime had remarked as much.
"It's too quiet," he mumbled looking out as far as he could see. "I've only ever heard it this quiet when Rhaegar fell at the trident." He turned to Tyrion with a burning accusation in his eyes. "You were wrong about her."
"I know." Tyrion didn't dare to meet his brother's eyes. Shame and anger filled his conscience.
The castle drew nearer and Tyrion was not surprised to see the Unsullied forces reinforcing the castle security as they came through the gates. They were ushered inside with little fuss and taken straight to see Daenerys. Tyrion took the lead with Varys only a few steps behind him. The Hound, Jaime and Arya Stark brought up the rear.
He tried not to let his fear show as they were led into the war room. It was not that Tyrion feared Daenerys. Not anymore. It was simply that he feared what he would find. This was not the queen he had crossed the Narrow Sea for. And if his lack of belief meant his death – he saw that as the only fitting outcome. He couldn't say for certain if he was pleased or surprised that Daenerys was awaiting them. She looked slightly pale but no less alive. She was not alone. Jon Snow has his wife tucked into his side and Sansa Stark stood on the other side of Hermione. Ser Davos and Lady Brienne were present too. Ever her guard, Greyworm stood behind Daenerys watching them with suspicion evident in his eyes.
"How wonderful of you to join us, my lords," Daenerys mocked.
"We beg your forgiveness, Your Grace," Tyrion spoke. "I had hoped to try and talk to Cersei, in the hopes that she would surrender."
"Oh?" Daenerys raised a brow. "And did she?"
"No," Tyrion answered and waited for a breath before adding, "She is dead."
His news was met with a cool silence. None seemed surprised or sorry over the fact. And while Sansa seemed relieved by the news, Daenerys seemed near gleeful.
Certainly, he did not miss the gleam in her eyes as she asked, "Are you certain?"
"Yes," Arya Stark answered. It was only then that Tyrion noticed she stood with her family. Arya looked at Sansa as she said, "She met the face of Death and there was no mercy for her. She met her end, exactly as the Gods willed it."
"Is this true?" Daenerys asked them.
"It is. I saw it with my own eyes," Tyrion answered still uncertain what it was he saw. "The city is yours."
Jaime scoffed and they all turned to him. "What city?" he asked. "You fucking burnt everything!"
Daenerys did not acknowledge him. She merely looked from Tyrion to Varys. "And where you there to see the false queen fall, Lord Varys?"
There was no doubt in his mind that Daenerys already knew the answer but still she asked. So answer they must.
"No, Your Grace," Varys replied. Tyrion was rather proud to hear that his voice did not break or waver.
"Then where were you?" she frowned, putting on quite a good show. "Certainly, you were not at your Queen's side."
His answer came quickly, almost as if he had been rehearsing it the entire time. "I was aiding my Queen's victory," he explained, though Tyrion noted he didn't sound all too pleased by that.
Daenerys stiffened slightly in her seat and then winced at the pain. "I heard you were injured during the battle my queen," Varys continued, "what do the maesters say?"
"That I shall live. Does that disappoint you?" she asked with a raised brow.
"Of course not!" Varys made a good effort to sound as outraged as he could.
Daenerys smirked and Tyrion knew they were in trouble. "Ser Jorah warned me about you." Tyrion could see that destructive nature of hers rising again and all he could do was watch hopelessly. "Warned me about you both really, and I was foolish enough to believe you would be loyal to me."
"We are loyal to you!" Tyrion insisted.
"No, you are not! You would sooner see me dead than on the Iron Throne!" Daenerys spat.
"Everything I have done has been for the good of the realm," Varys said simply.
"I am what is good for the realm! I am the last dragon!"
"No, you are not." Varys didn't seem sorry for his objection and Tyrion resisted the urge to strangle the Spider himself. Surely there were easier ways to die than to tempt the ire of the dragon queen?
"We had an agreement," Daenerys accused looking across to Jon and his wife.
"We do," Jon insisted. "Our agreement still holds so long as you promise to honour it."
"Of course, I will." There was only a mere hesitation in her reply but Tyrion saw it all the same.
It seemed Jon saw it too because he frowned but he said nothing, turning to share a look with his wife.
"So where does that leave us, my lords?" She asked looking back at them, though she did not give them a moment to reply. "It will not do to have a council that wishes me dead. You see, though I may be my father's daughter. I am wiser than he was."
"We do not wish you harm, my queen," Tyrion thought to soothe.
"You were always an artful liar, Lord Tyrion," she smiled.
"There is no lie told," Tyrion countered. "We have followed you thus far because we believed in you."
"Believed?" she questioned with a raised brow. "Do you no longer have faith in your queen, my lords?"
Her question was met with a hard silence. They all knew it was pointless trying to deny her then. Not after what she had done to the city.
It was Jaime who spoke up and for the second time in a short space of time, Tyrion wished to strangle yet another person.
"Hard to have faith when everything around you is on fucking fire," he spat.
She did acknowledge him this time, smiling slowly and that did little to calm Tyrion. "I imagine you can't have much faith in anything now that the only woman you have ever loved is dead."
It was a terrible cruel taunt, they all knew. Tyrion felt his brother's anguish the most, remembering the sight of Jaime holding Cersei and sobbing. She might have been a monster, but he had loved her with everything he had.
"She was dead the moment you set foot on this side of the sea," Jaime said. "You never had any intentions of letting any of us live."
His statement was met with silence that seemed to be all the confirmation they needed. Daenerys sat back in her seat, still smiling at him.
"How very astute of you, Ser," she mocked. "And here I was led to believe Lord Tyrion carried all the brains in your family."
"Perhaps you should have considered that he shared some of his smarts with me," Jaime goaded her.
Tyrion resisted the urge to smack him upside the head.
"And what else did your clever brother teach you?"
Tyrion closed his eyes, knowing Jaime would not hold back in his answer.
"Plenty more," he answered vaguely. "But how to recognize a tyrant… well that I learnt from your father." The smile slipped from her face and Tyrion knew they were all treading into dangerous waters now. "He showed me exactly what makes a terrible king. He like you believed it was his. The kingdom, the crown, the people. We were all his, all for his pleasure and always at his mercy."
Tyrion watched the scowl deepening on Daenerys' face and thought to warn his brother, but Jaime was already continuing.
"He believed it right up until I shoved my sword into his back."
Daenerys' chair scraped the floor and fell back as she stood. Tyrion imagined she tried to make herself as formidable and imposing as possible. But Jaime was unafraid. He saw from the corner of his eye, Jon push Hermione behind him as Lady Brienne stepped before Sansa and Arya.
"Kill me if you must," Jaime said. "It will not sway what we all know. You are no queen. No more than your father was worthy of being King."
"You think I would rest my claims of being queen on the shoulders of an oathless kingsguard? Or allow myself to be guided by the very family that helped the Usurper destroy my family?" Daenerys sneered.
"Only your family is to blame for its destruction," Jaime pointed out.
Hermione stepped around Jon, much to his aggrievance, and asked, "Then what should we lay it on? This man," she said pointing to Jaime, "has seen the terrible might of your House. And he had the courage to end it. How will this end?"
Tyrion was sure no one had ever called Jaime courageous. It was a sentiment that seemed to shock Jaime too as he stood looking a little awed at the warrior queen.
"It ends as promised. With me and my throne," Daenerys seethed. "And anyone that should stand in my way will feel the terrible might of my house as you so eloquently put it." She didn't give them a chance to object as she continued looking between Tyrion and Varys. "As it stands my own council should like to see me fail and so first I must deal with that."
"Your Grace, if I may -" Tyrion started but Daenerys interrupted.
"No you may not," she snapped. "I have had enough of your counsel. I should not require it any further."
"Your Grace," Tyrion said and he hated that it sounded like he was begging.
"You cannot mean to kill your own council," Jon argued.
"I mean to get rid of anyone that should stand in my way," Daenerys answered with spiteful vehemence. She glared at Jon and Hermione and it was not missed by anyone that Jon stood protectively in front of her once more.
"That's murder!" he said. "Killing innocent people was not part of our deal," he reiterated. His jaw clenched and Tyrion knew he was about as angry and frustrated as the rest of them.
"Things have changed," she merely said. "And if you cannot handle that, Jon Snow, then now would be the time to run back to Winterfell."
"And leave you to destroy the South?" Hermione scoffed.
"This is not your kingdom and so it does not concern you!"
"It is!" Hermione cried angrily. "It is our concern when you're using our armies to kill innocent people!"
"I am setting a new order. There were always going to be causalities," Daenerys said with little remorse.
"Not like this!"
Daenerys sneered but she didn't bother to respond. It seemed she had grown tired of arguing and Tyrion knew they were now truly out of time. She turned her attention back to him.
"Lord Tyrion, Lord Varys, I thank you for your ill counsel," she began and he felt his stomach twist but his stubborn nature refused to let him look away. It would seem he would be meeting Arya Stark's God of Death sooner than he imagined. "Lord Tyrion, while you bring me good news of your sister's death, I am still doubtful of your allegiance and loyalty."
He said nothing to refute her doubts. Nothing would convince her now.
"And Lord Varys," she continued, her focus switching to the spider, "Well, I have no doubts about your lack of loyalty."
Varys didn't flinch.
"Who is it that you truly serve?" she asked.
Varys met her cold gaze and answered without fear. "The realm. Always for the good of the realm."
Daenerys sneered down at them but she did not seem surprised by his answer. She turned to Greyworm. "Ossēnagon zirȳla," she all but whispered. "Ossēnagon zirȳ ry."
There was no mad panic in her voice. It was clear and calm and Tyrion knew there was absolutely no coming back from this now.
In a flash of steel and metal, swords were drawn and anarchy descended upon the war room. Greyworm came at them first, taking his queen's orders with utter loyalty. Varys didn't bother to move, standing until the very last moment he was struck by the Unsullied. Tyrion spluttered as he felt Varys' blood land on his cheek. His friend fell in quick order, with no cry for help or objection.
Greyworm turn to him next and Tyrion, now faced with the possibility of his death again, felt his blood run cold. Greyworm raised his sword and there was no doubt he would not miss. But his blade kissed another on the way down and when Tyrion looked up, it was to see his brother's sword blocking Greyworm's attack. It was enough to buy Tyrion a few extra minutes as he stumbled back. The room was in complete chaos with the others fighting off the handful of Unsullied Daenerys had with her. She stood at the center of it all watching with an eagerness he did not like.
Jaime grunted as Greyworm advanced with more ferocity and Tyrion was not ashamed of the fact that he took cover behind his brother. Another scream – of outrage – echoed through the room and he turned to see one of the Unsullied grabbing Hermione by the arm. Jon turned and a second later, Longclaw came down on the soldier's arm. The Unsullied fell to the ground, with no cry of pain, as he watched Jon who did not hesitate to end their fight swiftly.
Jaime stumbled back into him and Tyrion was reminded that Greyworm still posed a threat. He stumbled a little as Jaime tried to hold off Greyworm and he slipped on something on the floor, before tripping over Varys. He fell, his feet slipping in blood as he landed hard beside his friend. Greyworm had given Varys a slow death and all Tyrion could do was watch. He gasped when Varys gripped his hand with more strength than he thought a dying man to have.
"S-she was no queen," Varys wheezed. "I … I did it for the r-realm… always the realm…"
Tyrion frowned but he did not move away from Varys. He sensed there was more Varys was alluding to but he couldn't understand it, not when the desperation and chaos in the room picked up. He helped Varys as best he could, dragging his limp body from the middle of the room to the corner. He supported Varys against the wall and tried his hardest not to wince when he saw the gaping wound Greyworm had given him.
He watched in abject horror and relief as Jaime ran his sword through Greyworm. The Unsullied soldier fought bravely but when Jaime pulled his sword back, Greyworm fell to his knees.
"K-Khalessi…" He muttered before falling over.
Daenerys screamed in anger, turning to the window. "Rhaegal!" she called before turning back to them with a burning vengeance in her eyes. "Rhaegal! Dracarys!"
They all heard the familiar beat of dragon wings and stayed down as they felt rather than saw Rhaegal approaching. His talons gripped the window as he wrapped himself around the outside of the turret. As his body wrapped around them, they could see only his eye through the other window in the room.
"Dracarys!" Daenerys demanded again.
"No!" Jon cried. "Don't do this!" he gripped Hermione to him as she reached for Sansa and Arya.
Tyrion took a deep breath as Rhaegal opened his mouth.
"Don't!" Jon called futilely again.
Daenerys smirked cruelly and stepped away from the window. There was another beat of wings as Rhaegal brought himself impossibly closer to the window. His heart hammered in his chest as they watched Rhaegal's gaze flicker between Daenerys – who still eagerly awaited his fiery breath – and Jon who stood protectively in front of his family.
"Daenerys," Jon warned.
Rhaegal beat his wings once more, opening his mouth to let out a terrifying scream before pushing off the turret. It was with bated breath that they expected his fiery justice. Only it never came. Rhaegal turned and flew up and away. Ignoring the angry calls from his mother.
Daenerys screamed in fury, rushing to the window, calling for him desperately. But the dragon flew on. When she turned back there was pure venom in her eyes.
"You!" she spat looking at Jon and Hermione. "You took everything from me!" she took equal steps towards them, perhaps still in complete confidence that one way or the other it would end the same of them all; in fire and blood.
"You did this," Hermione argued. "You took this path and all this is because of the decisions you made!"
"I had no choice! I am queen! And nothing is going to stand in my way!"
"With what dragon?" Hermione dared to question. "And what army?"
Tyrion was pleased to see that some of her confidence fell from her gait and face as Daenerys approached them. He didn't think it entirely too smart to remind Daenerys that she was now essentially alone. No dragons by her side. Her commander and soldiers were dead. She was a lone dragon in a room full of wolves. Tyrion had to marvel that never had the pack looked stronger.
Still, in her truest form, Daenerys was stubborn. She did not turn away from Hermione and they all watched with fascination and the Mother of Dragons and the Northern Warrior Queen faced off. Jon still had Longclaw drawn but even he dared not intervene.
"You are Queen of nothing but the ashes," Hermione said, "Queen of the dead if we want to be particularly specific." It was a bit of a taunt, Tyrion had to admit, but it was also the truth. "You deserve no crown, no throne and no kingdom."
"You do not get to dictate what I deserve! None of you do! A bastard for a king and a commoner for a queen! What do you understand of birthright?"
"But it wasn't yours," Hermione said slowly as if explaining it to a child. "It was Rhaegar's. And Jon's. It was never yours. It never will be and –" Hermione stopped looking at Daenerys with wide eyes.
It took a moment for them all to register why, and then another moment for Daenerys to realise it too. She raised her hand to her face, wiping slowly at the blood that spilt from her nose. The red blood was a stark contrast to the absolute white she was slowly turning. Her knees buckled a little and when she took a few steps forward, she stumbled. Daenerys choked back a gasp as she stumbled again, looking down at her hands. The blood fell with a little more urgency and she caught them in her small trembling hands. She looked up at them with betrayal singing in her indigo eyes.
Varys chuckled, though it sounded more like a groan. "Y-you are no queen…" he mumbled smiling at the dying queen with glee in his eyes.
"What …" Daenerys muttered in a panic. "What…" she gasped again, this time clutching her chest.
"A-always for the realm…" Varys reminded them.
They all watched as she slowed in her steps looking at his with a final realisation. Her legs buckled once more as she choked and then she fell to her knees. She looked at them one last time with fire burning in her eyes. She said nothing more as she crumpled to the ground, choking and gasping for one last breath. It never came.
Tyrion watched as his queen died and beside him, he heard Varys murmured with the last of his strength, "Always for the realm."
AN:Hi!
Thank you for followiing, reviewing and adding this story to your favourites. I have decided that this story will be approximately 36 chapters. So we only have a few more to fo till the end.
Thank you for reading!
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