Author's Note: Just for fun - a backdrop for my fluffy, little SanRion S8 fix-it / canon divergence fic, A Holiday by Decree. This can be read separately from that or at any point as a quick background piece.
From the Queen's Solar
Summary:
Six months after Queen Daenerys and King Jon co-ascend to power over the Westerosi Kingdoms, they establish their new Targaryen-Snow rule while gradually rebuilding the Red Keep. Hand of the Queen, Tyrion Lannister, reflects on the events of the past months. His thoughts wander, and he takes in the view from high above the capital city during a visit to the Queen's newly finished solar.
Tags: Game of Thrones Fix-It – Pax Westeros – Forget about most of S8 – Setting for Canon Divergence AU According to this Author's Whims – In my Mind Not as Many Main Characters Died – Sorry Some are Still Dead Though – Queen Dany / King Jon – Queen Sansa Stark – Hand of the Queen Tyrion Lannister – Minor Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark – Light Angst – Thinking and Reflecting – Facing Consequences – Mourning
::::
The air on the way down the newest hall of the reconstructed Red Keep smelled of freshly cut wood and new lacquer, sweet and piney - inviting, positive, and full of opportunity.
Tyrion Lannister, Hand of Queen Daenerys of Westeros was still getting used to such feelings again. After years worth of the hellacious terrain they all had to tread to get to this point, he tried to forgive himself for generally approaching things with a bit of caution.
However, when he slowly opened the door to the room at the end of the hall he had been told to visit, the soft, hopeful part of his heart that somehow ever preserved whatever remained of his natural optimism grew light at the sight of the big, brightly lit, new solar. He was astounded at how beautifully finished the room was, especially when it had been barely constructed a month prior, which in and of itself felt like only yesterday.
He thought back on the whirlwind of time that had passed. It had been almost six months since they had begun rebuilding this portion of the Red Keep first. Daenerys and Jon, with their combined Council, had organized quickly to recruit men and even strong women from the smallfolk with offers of a modest daily wage, and half as much more for skilled builders able to lead a team.
Still, it had taken more than a week for the ruins to cool enough from the Wildfire; Tyrion's heart always clenched whenever he thought again of his crazy sister blowing the Red Keep to smithereens.
Thinking back to the time of the siege, Tyrion had already been deeply torn at the understanding of all that he had done to his own (albeit mostly rotten) family, though he knew what needed to happen. In the crescendo leading up to their victory though, when it came down to it he could only secretly feel sick with fear, picturing Cersei's rage as she surely realized what had gone wrong. Bronn had made off with the intel about her "Scorpions", which had been quickly targeted and obliterated. The rest of the siege followed similarly, relatively quick and efficient, as Jon and Daenerys' forces surrounded the city walls. Cersei had been left with no way out between the enemy and the angry, starving masses trapped inside King's Landing. Tyrion had masterminded it himself in fact, knowing well how quickly the smallfolk would turn on Cersei when there was less and less available to subsist on other than rumors that food and aid were being offered to those able to escape the city walls.
Yet, he should have seen it earlier: of course, his sister would decide that if her enemies would deny her all that she wanted, she would make sure with her ever-blazing, blood-soaked hatred that none of them would have it either.
In spite of Cersei's destruction of the Red Keep, everyone still credited Tyrion as a hero for his brilliance in Daenerys and Jon's otherwise bloodless strategy to seize King's Landing; all his other conflicted, complicated feelings aside, Tyrion only truly wished one thing though: he had been smart enough to have ignored Jaime's pleas to secretly help him get into the city to "reason" with Cersei. Ever too soft when it came to love and family, particularly when it had come to Jaime, Tyrion had given in to him and guided him to sneak in where the smallfolk were escaping King's Landing into Daenerys and Jon's heavily defended aid camps.
As Tyrion later watched the Keep go up in roaring, green flames that looked straight from hell, he felt as though his heart would be wrenched from his chest; he did not even know then if his brother made it even part of the way to their wretched sister...
After his anger and pain abated, Tyrion remained numb for the first couple weeks after Jaime and Cersei's remains were eventually found in the miraculously mainly unburned rubble of the collapsed crypts (along with Euron Greyjoy's, good riddance). Later on though, he eventually found it to be a consolation that Daenerys and Jon had discovered his treasonous act in helping his brother. Naturally, they decided they had to punish him for giving Jaime a chance to interfere in their plans, and Tyrion could only agree it was right. While they were clearly upset with him, it had seemed to pain Jon and Daenerys to strip Tyrion of his right to Casterly Rock, but Tyrion knew he deserved it. With his heart still bleeding over Jaime, he had asked them what kind of man killed essentially his whole family for the benefit of others? More than that though, he also knew he could never return to the Rock without being consumed by bitter, convoluted memories of his father and Cersei, and now sad memories of his childhood with Jamie.
No truly, the punishment had been a favor.
Perhaps more importantly though, Tyrion was thankful every day that at least Daenerys had rationalized that, despite his risky behavior, it was acceptable to keep him as her Hand based on how integral the rest of his contributions had been.
It was this thought that fortunately brought Tyrion back to the present moment in the large, glowing solar. He knew he was apt to fall into somber thoughts too quickly, but this was a moment he told himself he wanted to enjoy.
Taking the room in slowly, Tyrion proceeded to approach and run his hand over the desk on the left side of the room. The stained wood felt velvety soft and smooth. Shallower across the top and with built-in storage easily reachable from a sitting or standing position for Tyrion, just as he had designed it, the desk had come out better than he had expected. He glanced at the grand desk that had been built across the room for Daenerys and thought hers looked well too. He was still flattered by her offer to provide him a desk inside her very own solar, in order to ease his comfort and productivity during their inevitably prolonged meetings. He was of course still expected to keep his own solar in his own distinct quarters, but Tyrion understood that Daenerys' equipping him with a work area here meant she planned to draw regularly on his advice.
He would need to source writing supplies and other necessaries to stock the space with so it would be ready for use as soon as possible. Before that, though, he already planned to find his Queen and thank her again for her generosity when she returned from an afternoon of dragon riding between her and her King husband with Drogon and Rhaegal.
Next, checking out the view of the city below from the new solar's window, Tyrion thought of the powerful, young couple, faces beaming while riding their beasts. It reminded him that along with being Hand of the Queen, he would be forever grateful that he had convinced the Council that Daenerys and Jon were best off married to each other - even if it meant sweeping the discovery of Jon's parentage by Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen deeply under the rug. So far it seemed that not one of them that knew, Daenerys and Jon included, had yet spoiled the secret. It helped that in the end Daenerys had surprised them all by publicly granting Jon title of King and Co-ruler, though her somberly brooding but otherwise unassuming husband had never once asked to be recognized. Sansa Stark also knew of course, but Daenerys was eventually cajoled by her husband and Council to buy the new Wardeness of Winterfell's silence by restoring the Northern Kingdom's independent status.
So Queen Sansa Stark ruled to the North of the United Kingdoms of Westeros. Also to the North, Tormund had become the de facto leader of the Northern Free People's Territories, ironically once again giving a wildling the largest domain, if not the most populous one - at least of what had been explored and mapped of the area. Meanwhile, Daenerys granted titles to Missandei and Torgo Nudho on their marriage following the siege, and provided with resources, they set out to establish a new allied sphere of influence based out of Nath.
Tyrion's eyes had continued to scan the all-too crowded and chaotic cityscape of what was now called Dragon's Landing (the city had a powerful Queen and King, after all). His eyes dipped at the spot where the tall spires of the Great Sept of Baelor had once stood. Debates were still ongoing about what to do with the project that Cersei had started. Would they still rebuild it? Tyrion pictured the half finished rebuilt foundation that was currently out of sight at ground level.
As apt to happen with the women who were all ghosts of his past in one form or another, an image of Sansa Stark flashed through his mind. Perhaps it was more because he had just been thinking about her along with everything else that had happened since they had taken the city, but thoughts of the destroyed Great Sept did not help.
His marriage to Sansa in the Sept had really been quite a long time ago at this point. Sometimes Tyrion thought of all the old memories, not good though they were, he might have felt if he could go stand in the Sept today or his old quarters in the Red Keep, but like everything else, all that seemed like it had been swept away when Cersei decided to set fire to it.
On some level, though he had no right to it, Tyrion had hoped perhaps he might hear from Sansa after the siege. After the terrifying night they had almost lost their lives in the crypt, and she had said the words to him, You were the best of them, something in his heart had stirred. Had she felt the same?
Gods, how Tyrion had wondered, but he also realized this was the problem with him: a smart man in spite of himself, he was always secretly hoping for things that did not really make sense (he just got lucky when occasionally they came true).
On the other hand, of course it made sense that Sansa and he had not talked after the crypts. They had spent the next day doing nothing but finding out who was dead and who was alive. Helped on the way by Sandor, Arya had slain the Night King at the last possible moment, saving Bran but sadly not Theon. Jaime, Brienne, Bronn, and Gendry had all survived the unbelievable waves of undead, but Ser Jorah had not been so lucky and gave his life defending Daenerys, as if it were his destiny all along. Brave little Lyanna Mormont at least got to meet her uncle for a brief time; fortunately, unlike Jorah, the feisty young Lady of Bear Island survived the terrors of the night.
Of course, it also made sense that Sansa and Tyrion had also not talked after the funerals. It was the day after that that Daenerys and Jon had come forward requesting to be married that very same night in Winterfell's Godswood. So much death and loss of life and loved ones made them feel that their love for each other and the ones around them were what mattered. They wanted to rule and defend their people, and the only way they could do that well would be together.
Despite misgivings the tension between Daenerys and herself may have caused, Sansa found it in herself as the brand new Wardeness of Winterfell per Jon's passage of the title, to marry them under the giant Heart Tree. Surrounded by snow and ice but also what remained of the people they loved, the marriage of what appeared to be the century's most powerful King and Queen was forged before the Old Gods like something out of the songs of old heroes and monarchs.
In less than a week after that, their forces began the march South, and Tyrion went with them.
So perhaps it really did make sense that Tyrion and Sansa never spoke again, even after the siege. Focused on her claim and the recovery of her people and her keep, Sansa remained in the North and never traveled South since. Tyrion spent his days, morning until night, working with the King and Queen and their combined council of himself, Davos, Varys, Samwell Tarly, and Bronn determining how to provide for the people of the new capital, rebuild the keep, and secure their political position over their newly claimed Kingdoms.
And so the months had gone.
Coming back to himself, Tyrion's eyes were still trained on the behemoth that was the sprawling city below.
It really wasn't the first time he had the thought, but maybe it was the first time he felt he could really come to terms with it. I suppose in the end, I did it all for this, he told himself, seeing the skyline but also simultaneously looking into the figurative beyond. This city, these Kingdoms, and their Queen have become my life, and that's why there's nothing else left. Because at least this, I am good at.
Tyrion didn't know for sure how long he stayed like that, just looking out the window, getting used to the realization of the solitary state he occupied as a man who had committed everything he had to a position almost at the top of the world, at least as far as he knew it.
At some point, he was drawn out of his pondering by the sound of himself sighing into the large, mostly empty room. The position of the sun had shifted in the sky when he finally decided it was time to go back and look for his Queen.
:::
Hi all, I hope you all enjoyed this short work! I wanted to take my notes and write something quick but also better than just a straight summary of the fix-it universe I imagined for A Holiday by Decree starting out in.
I may tweak or add to this sometime in the future depending on any story lines I decide to flesh out. If you liked this story, I hope you will check out A Holiday by Decree as well!
Thanks for reading, dear readers! Origamikungfu.