Hello everyone.

Once again my apologies for taking my time updating. Once again, life got mad so finding time to write was difficult.

This chapter gave me hell trying to write it. I lost count of how many times I rewrote the bloody thing! I've had to fill in some of the backstories of Davos, Jon and Tyrion. Also, I spent a lot of time and energy trying to describe Old Valyria but eventually had to give up as I've got conflicting images in my head about how it's supposed to look and how it looked before the Doom happened. I just couldn't get a coherent image together so I decided to concentrate on the characters and their stories instead.

I promise I won't take as long to update again. The hardest and longest chapter I've had to write so far is done and while I'm not completely happy with how it turned out, only you can judge if I screwed it up or not.

WW

Standard disclaimer, I don't own Game of Thrones, blah, blah, woof, woof.

Chapter 29 – Old Valyria

The Smoking Sea, Just off the coastline of Old Valyria

Ser Davos Seaworth stood at the helm of his ship, the Fair Justice, in deep thought as he guided his ship and a fleet of five other Northern ships towards Old Valyria. Davos was still slightly shocked that he had agreed to this insane mission to go the one of the most speculated and mythical place in the known world…again.

Oh yes, he had done this before.

He had been a boy of barely nineteen name days but he had already established a reputation among certain quarters of being a discreet, honest man who was very good at what he did. If you wanted something transported quietly and wanted it to actually get there, then Davos was the man you wanted to hire. Pretty much the only thing he wouldn't transport was slaves and if someone asked him to do so, well then, that someone often found themselves with a lot of troubles from Bravos and certain people in Westeros as well.

He and his crew of five had been making a smuggling run between Volantis and Lys when a monster of a storm had hit and had battered the ship while the wind and current pushed it towards the Valyria Peninsular. When the storm had abated, he had found himself in the Smoking Sea, within viewing distance of the Valyrian coastline and decided head towards shore in order to make some repairs on the ship.

Davos and two of his men had run before the ship in the small boat they kept, mostly to use when discretion and stealth was needed, scouting out the safest way through the rocky mess.

As they had sailed closer, they were stunned silent in awe. Even run down, broken and overrun by jungles of plants and trees, the architected and craftsmanship was truly awe inspiring.

While repairs were being done, Davos was beginning to get the irrepressible urge to do some exploring just for the sake of exploring a new place. He felt no desire to take anything from this place but to him, this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity to see something that very few people living had ever set eyes of and only at a far off distance at that.

Davos knew the tales, had heard of the so called curse of this place but he had always been a more sensible lad then most and discounted the notion of a curse to all who step foot in this land but he couldn't discount the chance that there could be something lurking in the soil or plant life that could possibly kill him or his crew so he decided to stick strictly to the waterways and canals between the islands only.

Besides, knowing his way around here could one day safe his life as this was the perfect place to hide if he ever got into serious trouble.

Even Euron Greyjoy wouldn't venture here.

By the time they left, Davos had what was probably the most detailed map of the current configuration of Old Valyria in existence.

His thoughts drifted back to his present situation.

Lord Stark agent had found him at his home with his wife and children and had presented him with a contract for work. While Davos couldn't read, his wife Marya could. They had both been astounded to see that is was a genuine offer from Tyrion Lannister no less! What they wanted him to do was to captain and guide a small fleet of five ships to Old Valyria in exchange for a very generous fee plus a commission. Davos being the sensible man that he was, wanted to know more before deciding whether to take the job or not. It was a lot of money and it would see his family comfortable for many years to come with some careful management.

But, it was Old Valyria!

And how did they know he would be able to safely guide them?

Davos asked Lord Stark's agent if he knew why Tyrion Lannister of all people wanted to go to Old Valyria. The agent had told him that Lord Tyrion was actually acting on behalf of Lord Stark in this matter and that the matter was an urgent one. If Davos chose to accept the commission, he would be told the reasons why once at sea, for at this time, secrecy was curial to the success of the mission.

Then the agent had said the one thing he had never thought to hear again.

"It's time to return your bones to the sea."

Davos was utterly stunned.

There were only eight people who knew those words and seven of them were now dead.

As a password, it certainly was obscure but it was a cry for help. After they had left Old Valyria, the eight of them had sworn to keep their knowledge a secret. They agreed of on a password and swore that if one of them called, the others would come running to help. Old Valyria would become their sanctuary if they needed to hide.

And it was indeed the perfect place to hide.

The middle and outer islands were perfectly safe and the Stonemen inhabited the mainland the closest islands to the mainland as they were still connected by bridges and fallen stone from buildings that choked the waterways there. Davos had fortunately seen none while he was exploring.

He decided to accept the commission. It was a lot of money that would help his family and while he only knew both men by reputation only, the fact the Eddard Stark was an honorable man, who's word was trusted throughout the seven kingdoms was what he had based his acceptance on.

The fact that he was trusting Tyrion Lannister to lead this mission with his no longer a bastard second son had impressed on him that this could be as serious as the agent had said. So he sent his acceptance to Lord Stark and within a month, he was meeting five northerner ships at a small village on the coast of Dorne just before the Stepstone Islands. Davos would lead the way through the Stepstone Islands, avoiding the major pirate hideouts. Once free of the islands they would strike out for Lys to restock, then onto Volantis for one final resupply before heading south to the Valyria Peninsular and the islands of Old Valyria itself.

Once they had left the Stepstone Islands, Davos had asked for the reason why they were funding this expedition to Old Valyria. His personal opinion was that they were going to loot some of Old Valyria's treasures for Lord Stark but for what reason, he didn't know as yet. They had asked him if he could wait for an answer until they had landed in Valyria. The reason they gave was that due to the critical and secretive nature of their mission, silence was critical until there were no unfriendly ears to hear of it. Only the captain's and their first mates had known of their destination but of their mission, like Davos, they and the crews would be told once they were alone so no one could let anything slip in port. Davos reluctantly agreed and the conversation had turned to other things.

They had left Volantis behind and sailed in a southerly direction for a few days. Shortly they would turn and begin their run towards the Valyrian coastline. The devastation of the Doom had not just been limited to the surface. So great was the chain of eruptions, that it had also caused a massive upheaval of the seabed.

Miles and Miles of coastline had suddenly found itself underwater and some of the seabed had risen above the water and as a result the coastline was a treacherous underwater maze of razor sharp rocks and old buildings turning to rubble that was more than capable of grounding a ship to the point of destruction.

While still in Volantis, Davos and the other captain's along with their first mates met onboard his ship and went over his map of Old Valyria's current configuration in great detail. He had stressed exactly how dangerous the approach was and had warned the captain's that this would call for precision sailing and nerves of steel. Deviate off course by so much as five meters in some places, and they were dead men, pure and simple.

Davos, as the acknowledged expert and as he was the only one with experience navigating the area, would take the lead. The other five ships would sail in a direct line behind his ship, spaced out at regular intervals so they could follow in his exact footsteps so to speak. Once they were beyond the first island, the sailing would be a lot smoother and they would be able to drop anchor close to the second island and use the smaller boats to transverse the waterways and canals between the islands.

Davos's musings were interrupted by the sight of his son approaching. Matthos was a fine strong lad of fifteen years. He, like most of his generation, was a summer child. He had never known the harsh bite of winter and while Davos and his wife had done their best to raise their children with a good strong moral code and an even stronger work ethic, they were still somewhat innocent of how harsh life could truly be. It was why Davos had chosen to bring his eldest along. The boy needed to see more of what the world was truly like and Davos wanted Matthos to experience some new cultures and that included his current "employers" noble status as well, as Stannis was only one example of Westeros's nobility that his children had been exposed to so far.

"Father, Lords Lannister and Stark, wish to speak with you before we start our run." Matthos told his father. Davos gave his son a look and then nodded his head.

"Tell them to join me then son and I must say that I'm proud of you. Your attitude and hard work have been excellent." Davos told his son while his son. Matthos stood proudly. His father's praise was something to be treasured. Matthos nodded his head and then turned to go and extend his father's invitation to the two Lords.

Davos checked the ship's position and gave orders to his crew to ready the boat for the run towards the coast. His first mate signaled the small fleet of ships trailing them to also ready themselves. He turned his head just in time to see Lord Jon and Lord Tyrion join him at the wheel.

With a respectful nod of his head and a quiet "My lords", Davos waited in silence, watching his crew in their preparations while he waited for the two lords to speak whatever was on their minds. They had been good company and had earned his and his crew's respect when they had both jumped in and helped out around the boat with a cheerful demeanor and a surprising competence, although both had also admitted to having been crew on ships before. Davos found it a bit odd, but the ways of the nobility still confused him at times.

For Jon and Tyrion however, this had been a bittersweet journey for them. To them, this was Davos in the days before either of them knew him and before things had gone so wrong and while they could see quite of lot of the man that made up their Davos's manner, they knew that this wasn't the Davos who had been Jon's Hand of the King. So while they quietly mourned the loss of their Davos, they enjoyed this opportunity to get to know this Davos better.

Jon and Tyrion wished to make a firm friendship with the older man as they knew his calm level headed nature, his down to earth practical wisdom and strong moral code would be invaluable as plans to change the future progressed.

They had plans to tell him everything, but not just yet.

Jon spoke first.

"Ser Davos, I know we haven't told you much of anything and I am extremely grateful for your patience in this. I promise, as soon as we establish the camp, on the first night after dinner, I will inform you and the others of everything. I swear to you now that what you will be told will sound impossible but it will be the truth none the less." Jon told him speaking plainly and truthfully as the older man would prefer.

Jon still felt like a bit of a shit, but knowing certain people so well, enabled him to be able to manipulate people into doing his bidding without them ever realizing it. Jon respected his old friend to much to do that to him though.

Tyrion also spoke.

"Ser Davos, like Jon, I also appreciate your patience with our reluctance to speak about our mission but please know that you may complete this commission and accept the payment with a clear conscience. Our mission is not a dishonorable one, even though we will be removing certain items from the ruins, I assure you, everything we remove will be used for the good of the Realm." Tyrion explained.

While Davos had certainly done some shady and criminal things in the past, the man had a strong moral code and there were certain lines you didn't cross less you earn the man's wrath. He looked at the two younger men and gave them a sincere smile.

"Don't worry bout it lads. I've got more than my fair share of secrets and shady dealings that I won't be judging you for yours." He told them. "But, I do appreciate the gesture."

Davos looked at the compass and map once again then shouted at his crew.

"All right lads, it time to start the run. Signal the other ships to assume formation and tend to your duties. We'll heave too just before we hit the coastline and send in the boat for a look at the route we're to take to make sure things haven't changed too much." His tone darkened. "I know I asked much of ya all to make this trip to Old Valyria with me. I know about the legends and stories just like you do. But I tell you now lads, I don't believe in the curse." His crew began to mumble. Davos raised his voice. "I tell ya lads, I've been here before as you all now know and I'm still here. I'm not infected with greyscale; I haven't suffered any unforeseen circumstances, unless you count losin' these as a consequence." Davos laughed as he held up his hand with the lost fingers. "Hells boys, even then I'd call it a blessin', after all, I'm a bloody knight now." He laughed while his crew cheered.

"All right boys, time to start the run." Davos's crew cheered once more then jumped to their tasks. Davos looked at Jon and Tyrion.

"If you believe in the gods my Lords, then you'd best start prayin' to them for luck." He told them and turned back to the wheel. He said a brief silent prayer to the seven then concentrated on the task as hand.

"Here we go again." Tyrion looked at Jon.

Jon nodded back.

"Yeah, here we go again."

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Jon scowled into the night.

He was on the first floor of the ruined house they had commandeered as their main camp and base of operations. It was situated right on the edge of the second island and within the two days they had been there a basic dock had been quickly constructed so loading the ships would be easier, considering the heavy material they would be loading. The other reason why the house was a good base camp was that it was a solid, stable structure, which unlike most of the neighboring houses, wouldn't collapse on their heads when a gentle wind was blowing and from a security standpoint, it would be hard to breech…for the living at least.

It had also been his "Royal Residence" in the Time Before.

Jon's head was once again swimming in memories both old and new. He was happy to be on the late night watch as it gave him some quiet time to order his thoughts and regain his calm. He had been one massive bundle of nerves since they had set out from White Harbor a little over a month ago.

After already living this particular journey once to Old Valyria, he had been subconsciously preparing himself to once again face the trials and problems that had plagued them the "first time" they came here. Jon knew he was being ridiculous as the main problem they had getting here the first time was winter itself. The seas had been exceptionally rough, even on the days when the sea calmed somewhat, the waves were huge, the wind ripped the strongest of sails to pieces and storms broke ships to pieces like they were a child's toy.

This time, they had had an almost pleasant journey. A couple of storms that had seemed more like a gentle summer rain, no pirates, healthy and experienced crews on the ships with moral high. It had been practically like a holiday to all those involved. They had made it through Davos's safe passage without incident and had made anchor in the protected area between the islands.

As promised, Jon had called for a camp wide meeting that first night in order to discuss why they were here. He told them only about the North/Free Folk alliance and why it had been forged. Most of the northmen sailors had already heard rumors that the ancient Enemy of old had once again returned and that proof had been shown to the Lords of the North in the form of a wight. He also explained that it was Lord Stark who had given them this mission and that they were here to collect as much Valyrian steel and dragonglass as possible for transport back north so they could arm the people with weapons that would be able to kill both White Walkers and the dead wights.

Davos's crew on the other hand was either skeptical or outright disbelieving but seeing that the northern men believed, they decided to hold their peace for now. They were being well compensated for this trip and it was more money than most would see in a year and so wisely decided to keep their opinions to themselves.

As for Davos himself, while he was skeptical, he didn't outright disbelieve them. He reasoned that while not a lot was known about the ancient menace, it was known that they could be killed with Valyrian steel, which would explain why they were here, but what had bothered him was how the two young lords somehow knew where the biggest stockpiles of Valyrian steel was located as they had confidently lead Davos and the other captains to a partially collapsed warehouse along another broken street that had quite a few pallets of Valyrian steel ingots stack up high. His jaw along with the others dropped when they saw all that steel and that didn't include whatever was under the rubble of the partially collapsed walls and roof. He had decided to ask them some pointed questions in the near future. Jon had seen that look on Davos's face many, many times before and was hard pressed not to smile. He knew that he was going to be in for quite the interrogation once Davos knew the whole truth.

Everything he and Tyrion had set out to do since they returned to the past had been ridiculously easy for them to accomplish so far. Even brokering the mutual aid pact with the Free Folk had been simple. Jon had been expecting a lot of delays and fighting both verbal and physical until an agreement had been reached but the Free Folk and the Northern Lords had come to terms exceptionally fast. He had been anticipating it going on for weeks if not months, but no, in a matter of two weeks, they'd sealed the first official treaty between the North and the Free Folk and plans had been made to start transitioning the Free Folk under the Wall and onto the Gift while others would head to the other castles along to Wall to start making them once again fit for human occupation.

Then again, having proof that the Ancient Enemy walked once again would have something to do with that he supposed.

It had been easy. They had no problems with anything so far. Smooth sailing as far as the eye could see…

And that was what was really bothering him.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Jon was suddenly alerted by footsteps heading towards the room he was standing guard in. While the ground floor of the house was intact the upper story hadn't fared as well. While the roof was still intact, the walls that faced the ships in the small bay had some massive holes in them. Tyrion had theorized that when the Fourteen Flames erupted, they had flung a massive amount of dirt and rock in a massive wide area and as the rocks had been flung at great speed, some of them had crashed through the walls of the upper story of the house. His theory had been correct for amongst the debris; there had been black lumps of what the Maesters called Lava Stones.

"Jon?" Tyrion's voice quietly called.

"In here" Jon replied, not taking his eyes off the outside view. There were clouds covering the moon tonight. There had been clouds covering the sun and moon for a week.

It was eerily reminiscent of the when they were here in the Time Before. Clouds had covered the sky and for what had been most of that year before they fled Westeros, they hadn't seen either the sun or the moon in all that time. Darkness had long since covered the known world even Essos had turned bitterly cold with the people dying by the thousands. They were children of a hot land and had no idea what winter was like or how to survive it.

And that hadn't even been the worst of it.

They had been making plans to leave Westeros with every possible survivor they could fit onto the fleet of ships they had amassed in Dorne, where they had retreated too after fleeing Kings Landing along with the surviving population, disturbing rumor's had started coming out of Essos.

They had been vague at first as rumor's often are but soon they had received some more solid intelligence from one of Varys little birds.

An ancient army of the dead, all with blue eyes had walked out of the Shadow by Asshai and laid waste to Asshai itself.

Leading this army was a man who wasn't a man with snow white skin and bright blue eyes, a crown of black rock upon his brow and riding by his side, a woman also wearing a crown, but hers was made of a pale blue gems that looked like a snow sapphires.

The Night King had found himself a Queen.

News starting coming in thick and fast after that.

They had received reports of places like Lys, Sothoryos, and the Summer Islands where the dead had also risen and were killing off the remaining population, who then rose again as a wight. They had discussed this in councils with Maesters, wise men and priests alike but all were completely baffled as to how the Night King was able to raise the dead over that much open ocean. The best theory they could come up with was as winter grows, the Night King grows more and more powerful, which was a completely reasonable assumption, but, at this point, they hadn't known that the Great Other had been freed when Winterfell had been destroyed and that it was his power that was boosting the Night Kings into nearly god like levels.

Tyrion stepped into the room Jon was in. He looked around as he joined Jon at the massive hole in the wall. One look at Jon's face told Tyrion all he needed to know.

"Seven hells, I really hate this place." Jon grumbled. Tyrion did too. This was where they had died, after failing to kill the Night King, after failing to keep the last of humanity safe from him and his horde of dead wights.

It was where they had discovered the true identity of the Night Queen.

All the reports where see had been sighted had described her the same way. Bright blue eyes of course, skin as pale as snow and wearing a crown of blue gems but what was remarked upon the most was the color of her hair.

It was a brilliant red.

They had decided, given all the information they received that the Night King had taken a priestess of R'hllor as his queen. Knowing what they did about R'hllor and the Great Other, they assumed that he had taken the priestess as an insult to R'hllor and because R'hllor's followers had magic in their own right due to the rituals they undertake when they swear their vows of service and lastly to show that neither R'hllor or the other Gods had power over him or his master. The other reason they suspected a priestess of R'hllor as the new Night Queen was that she hadn't appeared until after Asshai had been decimated. But they had been wrong.

Oh they had been SO wrong!

She wasn't a red priestess, but a high born lady from Westeros, one who they thought dead and her body burned in the Wildfire explosion that leveled Kings Landing and had rearranged the coastline for miles around.

It had been Sansa.

Of all the fates dealt to his brothers and sisters, Sansa's had been by far the worst. At least the others had died clean, their bodies burned as soon as they fell so they could never rise with blue eyes and for that Jon had been profoundly grateful. Until this point, he had been spared the cruelest of fates; he hadn't had to face his family as wights when so many others had. But this, seeing his beloved little sister enslaved to that monster's will…

It broke him.

It broke Tyrion.

It was then that they gave up the fight and waited to die for they now had nothing left to live for as there was now nothing left.

Tyrion sighed deeply.

"You know, I know that we desperately need the Valyrian steel but fuck it, I really don't want to be here and is it wrong that I'm looking forward to looting the shit out of this place? To think I was so enthusiastic to come back when I came up with the idea in Winterfell. Fucking hells, what the hells was I thinking?" he growled. He really didn't understand why he had been so enthusiastic considering what had happened to him here. This was where he died. Just meters away from where he was standing, the Night King had killed him…Well, his physical body at least. As far as Tyrion was concerned, he died the moment he saw who the Night Queen was.

What had killed what little spirit he had left wasn't that the Night Queen had been Sansa, no, that had been a gut wrenching blow though. He had actually thrown up. No, what had killed him was what he saw when he looked into Sansa's eyes and saw her icy breath in the freezing air.

Sansa was still alive. A White Walker she may be but her body was alive.

Tyrion prayed to the Gods he didn't believe in that her soul wasn't trapped within her body.

The clinical side of his mind did reason that it made sense. From what he and Sam had uncovered in the books they had saved from Winterfell and the Citadel in Oldtown and from Bran before he died was that while wights were just corpses raised by foul magic, they had no will or minds of their own. Their guiding intelligence was the White Walker who raised them. The Night King and his White Walkers were a completely different case though.

The Night King had been a mortal man before the Children of the Forrest had changed him into an immortal weapon for them to wield. When he had broken out of their control, he had waged bloody war on both the Children and the First men who responded by creating an alliance that would drive them deep into the north into the Lands of Always Winter and the Wall would be constructed to keep them out of the south. Out of this alliance, House Stark was created and Bran the Builder cemented House Stark's place in history and their right to rule the North as Kings of the Winter Throne when he constructed the Wall to keep out the Enemy.

While it was and still is unknown why he decided to create the White Walkers or how he actually does create them, Bran was able to find out that a mortal child, a newborn babe, was required. The Night King was somehow able to transfer some of his powers to the child and it was speculated that as the child matured, the gifted power not only assisted in the transformation from human to inhuman but as they grow, their intelligence and power grows with them. As a mortal child gets smarter and stronger as they get older, so did the White Walkers.

Tyrion realized that Sansa's transformation would have been more like the Night King's though because she was already an adult by the time she was turned. A dragonglass shard inserted into her heart, most likely while reciting some type of ritual. Ancient and thought to be lost magic's returning to the modern age fascinated his rational side….

The other side though…

Tyrion's soul had been crushed under the most enormous weight of guilt. The fact she was breathing, meant that she was alive in some manner and they had left her behind, thinking her dead. Why didn't he check her to see if she was still breathing? To see if she could be saved? Why didn't he take two seconds just to make sure?

He knew why.

They had been hurrying to the docks in Kings Landing. There had been some wights in the city itself but the main army of the dead were still a few hours away and they needed to be well away from Kings Landing so they wouldn't suffer the after effects of what was to come. They had been fighting a group of seven wights and had been winning, when Sansa's pain filled scream pierced the air. Tyrion had quickly spun around just in time to see the wright that had snuck up on Sansa from behind while she was busy fighting off the one in front of her, savagely withdraw its sword from Sansa's chest.

Sansa had remained on her feet for a moment, blood spilling out of her chest and mouth. Jon had turned around just in time to see Sansa smile gently at them both.

"I love you both"

It was only then she collapsed to the cobblestone street.

That was the last thing Tyrion remembered before his world faded to black.

Jon told him later that he had gone completely mad. He had apparently howled in grief so profound that it actually made the last few wights hesitate for a moment. They might not have a mind or will of their own but something deep down inside them, some primal instinct that warned them that Death was in front of them. He had even scared the absolute shit out of Jon. He had gone berserk and attacked anything dead that moved. He had started hunting them down and killing them and Jon couldn't get him to stop so deep and loud was his rage and grief. Eventually, Jon had to knock Tyrion out in order to get to the ship. The candles had been lit and the Wildfire caches under Kings Landing armed.

Soon, Kings Landing, the Capital of Westeros, home to the Kings of Westeros for three hundred years would soon be wiped off the map in explosion of green fire, hopefully taking a good portion of the hoard of wights with it.

And if they were very, very lucky, the Night King as well.

If Aerys Targaryen had been alive, he would have been dancing in glee for what was about to happen.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Tyrion heaved a sigh and shook his head in order to try and clear it. He had come to speak to Jon about other things but like Jon, this place had way too many bad memories for Tyrion to ever be comfortable being here once again. Only the fact that they would only be here a short time was the only reason why they weren't buried deeper in the memories.

Tyrion was slightly worried about Davos. Like Jon, he had also seen the look he had shot at Jon. Davos was starting to get suspicious about their knowledge of Old Valyria. Mainly, how did they know where the warehouse they had shown Davos and the other captain's was located and how did they know that Davos had detailed knowledge of Old Valyria?

Luck could be one possible explanation as to how they found the warehouse. He and Jon had wondered off for about an hour so they could have a private discussion about implementing their plans for this phase of the master plan, they could have possibly stumbled on the warehouse while out, but would seem a bit too convenient that a warehouse filled with the rarest metal in the known world was the first thing they found on their first day.

Another possible explanation could be that Tyrion had found some very old, very detailed maps of Valyria in the days before the Doom showing the layouts for various towns and cities. For the most part it would have only been a matter of being able to translate High Valyrian in order to read the maps. Tyrion could claim that where they were camping was once part of the metalworking district and therefore it would be reasonable to assume that large stockpiles of steel would be located nearby. That there were actually quite a few forges nearby did back up that assumption quite nicely and once again, the maps were real. Like the books about the Long Night, he had found them in Winterfell's library.

This explanation would probably be the one that most of them would accept but Davos was a different case because he knew that they knew he had a map of Old Valyria. He would probably believe them about the maps Tyrion had seen, but there was no way they should have had knowledge of his map and the password that only knew.

"I think we're going to have tell Davos the truth sooner rather than later Jon. He's just too clever to deceive for too long and he'll soon start putting things together. I know he definitely wants to know how we knew about the password and map." Tyrion told him.

He liked Davos, he really did. Respected the hells out of him too but the man could be like a dog with a bone sometimes. There were times where he just couldn't let things go until he got answers that satisfied him, even if he knew the answers would be bad and he wouldn't want to hear it, he would just keep pushing, subtlety and discreetly.

Jon glanced at Tyrion and sighed.

"I know, I know" he replied. "I just can't think of way to tell him everything without sounding totally crazy. My father may not have totally believed in the Night King, the Children and other northern legends but as a northerner, he was brought up on the tales, so convincing him wasn't as hard as it could have been. Davos will be that much harder. It took Melisandre doing something rather impossible for him to completely believe in magic. She brought me back from the dead and only the fact that Davos knew I was dead, had stood guard over my corpse and then saw me breathe and live again convinced him that there were greater powers out there. This time, we don't have access to that particular miracle in order to give him solid proof of our story."

"So what do we do then?" Tyrion asked "He won't wait long before demanding answers."

"I know." Jon said again. "I guess we'll just have to deal with it like we always do, when it actually happens and without a solid plan." He laughed "Although, it does seem to work out for the best every time we do it that way so maybe as plans go, it's not a bad one."

Tyrion chuckled. Jon wasn't wrong. It did work best when they didn't have a solid, detailed plan in place. The need to be flexible and to think on one's feet was essential in surviving the Red Keep and the Wall respectively. They both had much experience at having to make decision of the fly. Flexibility in ones plans was a great thing. It allowed the main goal to remain while leaving much room for trying various plans depending on how things were going. Tyrion put that problem aside to be handled another day.

"Are we ready to start transporting the steel to the ships tomorrow? I would like to get this done and get out of here. I have other things that I need to do before I return to Kings Landing. Although I do admit, things seem to be going smoothly so far." He said.

"It's too easy. I don't like it. We never had anything this easy last time" Jon grumbled.

Tyrion smiled sympathetically. He could understand why Jon felt that way. If he was honest, he felt like that too.

"Yes, it has been easy, maybe even too easy, but I don't expect that to continue for too much longer. I would say we are in a grace period. I distinctly remember nothing exciting happening in Kings Landing or the rest of the realm the first time around. Everything started getting complicated when Jon Arryn was killed. It was the start of everything and that bloody red comet didn't help either. The people have been brought up to believe that the comet means that dragons will return to the world and with dragons, magic. People are afraid of dragons and magic so they would have been in a mild state of concern, wondering what it signalled was coming. Then there was what happened when Robert died and your fathers unjust execution sparked a war we never really had time to recover from before Cersei and the Night King starting making life very difficult. Then Dany returned…Gah! It was just one huge jumbled mess that just kept going and going." Tyrion explained

"Right now, we're at peace. There are no dragons, to the South, there is no such thing as the Night King and there's no war. The general peaceful state of the world right now is allowing us to make plans and then put said plans into motion without any major interference. That will start to change as soon as the South finds out about the treaty with the Free Folk I promise you. Right now, just be grateful we have been able to accomplish as much as we have without interference."

"Ok, you made your point. Doesn't mean I like it though." Jon huffed.

The two brothers in all but blood resumed staring at the dark landscape in silence when the clouds suddenly cleared for a moment and the light of a full moon shone down on those below.

Jon and Tyrion's jaws dropped in complete awe.

The ruins they were standing in had been covered in dust and debris during the initial explosions of the Fourteen Flames and mixed in with that debris were minute shards of dragonglass. The whole lot had covered the buildings and stuck to the walls, changing the colour of the bricks to a dark grey, charcoal like colour but in the light of the moon, the dragonglass glittered like tiny shards of black diamonds, reflecting the moonlight back to the sky.

In that moment, Jon and Tyrion could see the majestic beauty that Valyria had once been and it awed them. The Ghiscari and others may have tried to match Valyria's might and grandeur but hadn't even come close to matching such awe inspiring beauty.

"You know" Jon whispered, not wanting to disrupt the moment. "You know, I really hate this place but right now…it's not so bad." Jon was smiling by the time he had finished speaking. Tyrion nodded in agreement with a smile also on his face.

"Yes, it's definitely not so bad"