Tyrion Lannister I
They are sailing to their doom.
Tyrion Lannister was a learned man; one of the brightest and wisest in the Seven Kingdoms. When he fled King's Landing – after spending weeks in a cell drowning in filth then killing his father and whore of a lover, he had never thought that he would be awarded the opportunity to once again be a major player of the Game.
He had given up and Varys brought him back from oblivion when he propelled him on a track to meet the Dragon Queen; a woman so fierce, passionate, determined, and above all magical – she had brought dragons back into the world. But, she was at times – maybe too often as of late – impulsive, stubborn, overly-righteous, and cruelly ruthless to those who committed atrocities against the weak and innocent, as well as, those she deemed as enemies because they did not bend to her will – the most blatant recent example of which were the Tarlys.
Still, she was the Queen he chose, the Queen they all chose – even Jon Snow. She was the right kind of terrible; a woman with enough strength and compassion to actually break the wheel – as she herself called it back in Mereen when they had their first conversation as advisor and ruler.
He was exhilarated when they embarked across the Narrow Sea back to Westeros. This very ship, the Silver Queen, witnessed many nights during which he strategized how he would put Daenerys Targaryen on the Iron Throne. It was, in theory, an impeccable plan accounting for the newly-forged alliances, their combined military and naval strengths, and the political maneuvering required to win the Game.
It all amounted to nothing though. A new player, Euron Greyjoy, took out two of their allies in a swift blow. And Tyrion's own brother, Jaime, outsmarted him and in a single strike, made their victory at Casterly Rock meaningless, took out their third ally, and seized the much needed food reserves of the Reach.
And then, as if matters could not get any worse, the Bastard of Winterfell had come out of nowhere bringing to the fore a much bigger threat. Tyrion had suspected its gravity from Snow's determination and lack of consideration for his own safety traveling all the way from Winterfell to Dragonstone seeking help. But, Tyrion still had his doubts.
Only when Daenerys returned from beyond the Wall with just two dragons did he realize the enormity of the situation. What kind of creature can take down a dragon? He had half a mind to urge his Queen to abandon this fight all together for the monumental risks it posed to her legacy. But, after seeing the wight at the Dragonpit, and that was just the lowest ranked soldier in the Army of Dead, dread like no other crept all over his small body.
It was like the fear he had felt in the Sky Cells of the Vale, on the night of the Battle of Blackwater Bay, when Oberyn Martell was battling the Mountain, and when the dwarf released two dragons from their shackles in Mereen had all been wrapped into one, multiplied a thousand fold, and now resided in the pit of his stomach.
And it was his job, as her Hand, to ensure that Daenerys Targaryen emerged victorious from this frightening children's tale if there was to be any hope not just for breaking the wheel and bringing about peace to the Seven Kingdoms but for the mere survival of the realm.
We ARE sailing to our doom.
With everything they had been through lately; the mission beyond the Wall, the loss of Viserion, and the parley at the Dragonpit, it was decided that they will take a break from it all during their first day in the seas. They had time to spare; the journey to White Harbor would take a ten days, after all.
They had set sail a few hours earlier, had just concluded their supper in the ship's main hall, and were now deep into drinks. Most of Daenerys's party were consuming wine; fine Dornish red from the many crates Ellaria Sand gifted the Dragon Queen when she came to Dragonstone. Jon Snow, Ser Davos, Ser Jorah, and Sandor Clegane though were drinking ale – the Onion Knight had taken some time out of their second trip to King's Landing to procure the Northern drink for his King.
Tyrion surveyed the room and his eyes fell on none other than the Hound. He had not seen him since he fled from the Battle of Blackwater Bay – the wildfire obviously too much for him to handle. Then, like a ghost from the past, he showed up on the shores of Dragonstone carrying the crate housing the proof they would provide Cersei. Tyrion was too occupied with processing the loss of Viserion and preparing for the Dragonpit parley to care to question the man about where he has been during the past few years.
The Hound was now sitting at the other end of the rectangular table placed in the center of the room. Next to him was the King in the North who had slanted his chair slightly so that he is not head-to-head with the woman to whom he swore allegiance – the quick hidden glances between the two not lost on Tyrion.
"She told me of your kindness to her at the Capital. I thank you for that, Ser," Jon Snow nodded to Clegane and gave him a small genuine smile.
"I'm no 'Ser'," the Hound muttered. "The littlebird didn't wanna escape that shit city when I offered, anyway".
Tyrion quickly figured they were talking about Sansa having heard the Hound refer to her as 'littlebird' on a few occasions. "The night of the Battle of Blackwater Bay?" He asked from the other end of the table now intrigued to know.
"Aye," Clegane confirmed. "The Stark sisters are stubborn. The littlewolf gave me a hard time, too. Was a pain in my arse for an entire year".
"Arya?" Jon asked hurriedly.
"Aye," he confirmed again. "Found her with the Brotherhood. She was with that whingy lad Gendry you brought to the Wall and a fat little shit who wouldn't stop talking about food".
Tyrion was even more intrigued now. In the midst of a rather sensitive mission, Davos Seaworth had singled out this fellow and brought him into their fold. Granted the young man was skilled with a hammer; but, who was he?
"Who is he, anyway?" Tyrion looked from Snow to his advisor asking nonchalantly so as to mask his curiosity.
Davos, who was sitting next to him across from Jon and the Hound, avoided his eyes. Jon, on the other hand, did not. It took him a moment to contemplate then he turned to Daenerys, looked her straight in the eyes, and said: "He's Robert Baratheon's bastard son".
Of course, he is. Yet another reminder of the fact that his sister's children were all in fact his brother's.
Tyrion quickly turned to Daenerys on his left and her eyes were flaring – Robert had destroyed her family, after all. From the other side of the table, he heard Ser Jorah who was sitting to her left: "He's the one who made the run back to Eastwatch to send you our message, Khaleesi".
And just like that, Daenerys's fire calmed and she nodded slightly to Jon who turned back to Clegane: "What of Arya?".
Tyrion noticed the smile on Daenerys's face as she watched Jon ask the Hound about his long lost sister.
"She escaped the Brotherhood but lost her pals. Gendry was taken by some Red Woman…," Clegane trailed off when Jon turned to Davos and waited for him to explain something unsaid between them.
The Onion Knight cleared his throat before saying with a bitterness: "Melisandre wanted to burn the boy alive as a sacrifice to help Stannis win the War of the Five Kings". He paused, then concluded: "I smuggled him out of Dragonstone".
Daenerys leaned her head to ask Tyrion privately: "Isn't she the one who…". He nodded quickly before she finished her question.
Jon had noticed their interaction and looked at Daenerys with serious questioning eyes. She composed herself and explained with a wave of her hand: "Shortly after my arrival at Dragonstone, this Melisandre paid us a visit and urged me to summon the King in the North".
Davos was now fuming. "She's an evil and dangerous woman!" He said as he got up from his chair and went to collect himself by the side table housing the maps and sigil figures they will later use.
Davos is hiding something. Tyrion noticed Jon looking at his advisor empathetically. And Jon's in on it, too. Trying to lighten the mood, he looked across the table to Ser Jorah: "You never told us, Mormont, where in the world did you find the cure for Greyscale?"
"At the Citadel," he responded plainly.
"The old Maesters finally good at something?" Tyrion scoffed before taking a sip of his wine.
"Not the old ones. A young one in training, actually. Samwell Tarly," Jorah explained.
Tyrion almost chocked on his drink, then felt Daenerys stiffen next to him while Jon almost jumped out of his chair almost childishly asking: "You met Sam?"
"You kno-," and before he could finish his question, Jorah answered it himself, "of course, you do. The Night's Watch".
Daenerys was now squeezing the table trying to contain herself having made the same connection Tyrion made; she had burned this lad's father and brother alive.
I knew this was gonna come back and bite us in the ass.
"Aye," Jon confirmed and added: "He's a true brother. The first to kill a Walker with dragonglass. My closest friend. As Lord Commander, I sent him there to train. Last I heard of him was when he sent me a raven that he'd found a map of Dragonstone with a mountain of the glass".
Oh, kill me now!
Daenerys could not contain herself anymore and got up from her chair. They all stood up with her; Jon and Jorah first and Clegane and Tyrion last.
She looked around avoiding Jon's eyes and used a regal tone though her voice was starting to break: "Well, this was very pleasant company. But, I'm in need of some fresh air". And she walked out.
Tyrion noticed that her steps got instantly quicker when she crossed the threshold.
Davos rejoined the conversation: "How'd he manage that? The Princess Shereen…".
Tyrion tuned out the conversation and waited for a few minutes before following his Queen knowing exactly what was troubling her.
He noticed on his way out that Jon Snow had disengaged from the conversation clearly battling whether or not he should check up on her himself.