Chapter 6
The moment Daenerys fell chaos erupted. The unsullied guarding the room raised their spears to attack as the dragon Queen slumped into Jon's arms.
"Hold" shouted Grey Worm as the men moved forwards
The room appeared deadlocked. The guards were loyal to the Queen, but Grey Worm was their captain. With Daenerys dying whose orders were they to follow?
"Stand down" ordered Grey Worm as Missandei pushed past him to Daenerys
Sansa found herself frozen as the realisation of what had just happened hit her full force. Daenerys was dying – Jon had killed her.
The unsullied had frozen at Grey Worm's command but had yet to lower their spears. They may be safe from Daenerys but her armies were a different matter entirely. Sansa's mind had only just begun to unlock from its paralysis when an inhuman screech shook Dragonstone.
"Drogon" hissed Arya, her grey eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape
Somehow the dragon knew its mother was dead. Sansa's eyes moved from her sister to the silver-haired Queen lying lifelessly in Jon's arms. Tears were racing down Missandei's face as she turned away from her fallen friend, but it was nothing to the despair spread over Jon's face. He'd been faced with an impossible choice; his family or the woman he loved.
"Lady Sansa, you need to take charge" whispered Varys, stepping to her side
"I can't" she said, her chest tightening. This wasn't what she wanted. She'd only wanted to protect her family; to get Tyrion and go home.
"You're the only one who can"
Sansa's eyes scanned over the room. The guards hadn't attacked them but didn't seem to know what to do either. Jon's eyes hadn't left Daenerys, and Sansa's group were trapped in the centre of the room. She swallowed thickly as the weight of duty settled over her.
One mad Queen was dead, but there was still another to deal with.
"There have been no signs of movement from Dragonstone but I will not be caught unprepared" said Cersei, her footsteps echoing as she made her way through the corridors
"You've no need to worry my Queen" said Euron, a lazy smile covering his face "Your enemies will die horribly, and I'll bring you the Targaryen girls head myself"
"I want her alive if possible - and Sansa Stark" said Cersei "I want to watch them die"
"I like a woman who isn't afraid of blood" he said, his breath tickling her ear as he leaned over her "you'd have made a fine iron born. You kill for what you want"
Cersei forced a smile even as revulsion ran through her. Euron Greyjoy had been very useful to her - but he would never be her King. When the war was done she would need to dispose of him. The possibility of using him to father a child had passed through her mind but she couldn't go through with it. Jamie's children were the only ones she wanted.
The air grew colder as they descended to the cell that held her little brother. Euron was entertaining if nothing else, and for now he still had his uses. Sharing her project with him seemed an easy way to appease him. When they were finished here Euron would return to the fleet to await the dragon Queen. A lingering doubt gnawed at Cersei - Qyburn's little birds had gone strangely silent. Daenerys Targaryen was supposed to attack today, but there'd been no reported movements. Qyburn was equally perplexed but until more whispers came to them all they could do was wait.
The Lannister guard unlocked the cell door, stepping into the cramped space with a torch that illuminated the filthy conditions her brother resided it. The creature was slumped against the wall; curling away from them like a beaten dog in the tattered blanket he'd been given.
Euron paused as he took in the scene until his booming laugh echoed around the cell.
"Where's all your fancy words dwarf?" he said, looming over Tyrion as he huddled away from them. The action further encouraged Euron who tore the flimsy blanket away from him; exposing his beaten, naked form.
"My friend asked you a question" said Cersei, a smirk taking over her face "it's better not to disappoint him"
"I don't know…" said Tyrion, his green eyes full of pleading. The sight sickened Cersei - he had no right to bear the name Lannister.
"You should be thanking your sister for keeping you alive" said Euron, grabbing Tyrion's ankles to drag him forwards along the floor "if it were up to me I'd kill all of your kind"
Cersei watched on as Euron taunted Tyrion; prodding his injuries and teasing him with a knife. Bringing the so called King of the iron islands down here would serve two purposes. Euron would have his fun tormenting the imp, and Tyrion would suffer.
With Jamie's death any purpose Cersei once felt had died too. Nothing else mattered but revenge now. Tyrion had been the first on her list, but soon all of her enemies would be reduced to nothing. The heads of Daenerys Targaryen and Sansa Stark would decorate the throne room as a reminder of her victory.
"Oi bring that torch here" called Euron as he climbed on top of Tyrion, his weight pinning him to the floor
The guard glanced at Cersei who nodded her permission. She'd promised to let Euron inflict a punishment on the imp after all.
Euron held his knife in the flame of the torch, heating it up as Tyrion trembled beneath him. Cersei moved behind Euron to get a better view.
He shot her a crooked grin over his shoulder "Eager to watch?"
"I wouldn't miss it"
The first whimper fell from Tyrion as the heated blade was pressed into his skin, and the sound satisfied something deep inside Cersei. This was the justice she'd longed for.
"You did the right thing, you know" said Arya, glancing sideways at Jon as they made their way around the cliff surround Dragonstone.
"It doesn't feel like it"
"She was dangerous Jon"
His face twisted in grief, but Arya didn't doubt he knew the truth. Daenerys had become dangerously deluded. Arya had seen the rapid decline of her sanity since they left Winterfell and her death had become inevitable. Ideally Arya would have done it herself, but things had spiralled out of control too quickly - in the end there'd only been Jon who could have done it.
"I am sorry" she said, nudging her brother "I know how much you cared for her"
"I loved her" he said "but in the end I didn't recognise her"
Arya nodded, continuing in silence until the dark form of Drogon came into view. The dragon had raged since Daenerys died yesterday, his screeches shaking Dragonstone as he spat flames into the sky. They'd feared the dragon would bring the castle down in its grief but it had spent the night alternating between anger and sorrow.
They stopped a distance from Drogon, watching the beast angrily prowling through the grass.
"Can we trust the unsullied?" asked Arya
"They'll follow Grey Worm now, and he's agreed to fight with us against Cersei"
As necessary as Daenerys death was it had caused her army to fall apart. The unsullied were soldiers; trained to follow orders. With the loss of their Queen, Arya had feared they would seek to avenge her. It had certainly seemed likely until Grey Worm stepped in. He was their captain and well-respected; following him after Daenerys had seemed the logical next step to many of the unsullied.
Last night had passed in a blur of politics, meetings and violence until a relative peace settled over Dragonstone. Grey Worm would lead the unsullied, Sansa would lead the Northern troops and the allied forces would free Kings Landing from Cersei.
That wasn't to say the arrangement had been easily reached. Grey Worm and Missandei were grieved by the loss of their friend, but were willing to work with Sansa. The rest of the unsullied were wary. Many had seen the increasing instability of Daenerys, but didn't trust Sansa. The Dothraki had proven the biggest problem and it had led to bloodshed throughout the night. They followed Daenerys - not Grey Worm.
The long night had killed many of the Dothraki troops and last night's fighting had led to the loss of many more when the unsullied were rallied to contain them. There were a few hundred remaining and they'd agreed to join the attack on Kings Landing after desperate negotiations throughout the night. The promise of blood and glory in the war to come had finally persuaded them.
Plans were being finalised and last minute preparations were under way for the attack – but it would all be pointless if they couldn't control Drogon.
"If he burns me alive don't watch" said Jon
"You have Targaryen blood; he shouldn't hurt you"
The dragon turned, noticing their presence. A primal fear crept through Arya as the beast's eyes narrowed and flames erupted from its mouth – shooting into the sky above them.
"He knows I did it" said Jon, sadness hanging over his face
"The alternative was to let us all die – you know she was going to kill us"
Jon's gaze turned downwards "I kept hoping I was wrong; that Jamie Lannister wasn't right"
"Jamie and Varys kept saying the same about Daenerys – that the signs were there"
Jon swallowed, his face lined with tiredness "I should have acted as soon as I knew what happened with Tyrion. He was loyal to her; he persuaded me to give her a chance"
"I thought Sansa was going to attack her when she brought up Tyrion"
"I hope the things I've heard aren't true"
If only Arya could share his hope. Both she and Varys had heard whispers of Cersei's cruelty to her own brother and as much as she wanted to tell Sansa it was lies, she knew it was the truth.
"If Sansa tells me he's her friend one more time I might have to knock some sense into her"
A half smile pulled at Jon's mouth "Sansa's been through a lot. You know emotions aren't easy for her anymore"
"She's marches half-way across Westeros for the imp and expects us to believe it's because they're friends?"
"Don't push Sansa"
Arya rolled her eyes "I make no promises"
Tyrion pulled the ragged blanket tighter around him, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in his arm. Why wouldn't Cersei forget about him? Why couldn't she leave him to die?
He rubbed his fingers into the blanket, relishing the familiar feel. Only one hand worked now. His legs wouldn't obey him either. All he could do was sit and wait for death.
The blanket was all he had.
It was the closest thing he had to friend.
It might be full of holes and smell funny, but it covered him up and offered some protection against the cold of the cell. Tyrion liked being alone with the blanket. He could curl up in it and pretend it was a shield. Most of all it couldn't betray him. It couldn't trade him away to an enemy like he was nothing. Every time he came back to his cell it was waiting for him like an old friend.
Tyrion wound his hand into the material, drawing it as close as possible. At least he wouldn't die alone.
Hours later the rallying cries of the Northerners still echoed through Sansa's ears as she hunched over the papers that littered her table in Dragonstone. Tomorrow they would take Kings Landing, and the North would gain independence. Many of her troops had come reluctantly to fight for the Dragon Queen, but Sansa had promised them independence and it had reignited their fighting spirit. The allied forces had agreed to remove Cersei from the throne, but beyond that Sansa's only goals were keeping her family safe and securing an independent North.
'He screams all day and cries all night'
The dragon Queen's taunting words cut through her train of thought, sending a chill through her chest. Sansa had heard reports of what was happening to Tyrion, but she refused to let her mind linger on it. No matter what she would rescue Tyrion tomorrow and Cersei would pay for what she'd done.
After speaking to the assembled Northern troops on the mainland she'd called a meeting with the lords who'd accompanied her, as well as her siblings. Jon hadn't come, but Sansa understood – killing Daenerys had killed part of himself. She'd thanked Jon for what he'd done and offered her condolences but it was clear he needed time.
When Sansa had presented her assembled council with a document detailing Northern independence and proposed arrangements between the two kingdoms she'd heard nothing but praise – until she revealed who'd written the document.
"Lady Sansa, you can't be serious" said Lord Glover, his eyes flicking between the papers and her face
"I'm quite serious" she said "these proposals were written by Tyrion Lannister and presented to the Dragon Queen"
"That would make sense of why she turned against him" agreed Lord Royce, eyeing the papers as if they may be hiding a lion
Sansa understood their doubt. The proposals were written with a keen insight into the North and it was easy to assume it had been written by a Northerner and not a Lannister. Yet Tyrion's hand was easily recognised and Varys had confirmed that Tyrion brought this to Daenerys. Everything in the document was detailed and well-researched. Sansa suspected there were few people in Westeros with the intellect to craft an agreement such as this – but Tyrion was one of them.
Somehow Sansa had become the unofficial leader of the alliance, and with it a heavy chain of responsibility wrapped around her. Alone in her chambers with only the walls for company Sansa voiced the thought that had eaten at her for weeks.
"I miss you" she whispered "you'd know how to handle all of this better than me"
The lady of Winterfell clamped her mouth shut before anything else could escape. She couldn't go there; there was too much still unknown. Whatever the case she would see Tyrion tomorrow, and he'd never suffer at his sister's hands again.
Steeling her resolve Sansa turned her attention to the letter Bran had given her when she returned to Dragonstone. The sealed document looked innocent enough but Bran's words had made her wary of the contents.
"What's this?" she asked
"Open it when you're alone" he instructed "Before we move on Kings Landing I thought it was important you knew. You should know all the facts before you make your decisions"
"You could just tell me"
He shook his head "You've never been given a choice, but you'll get one now. Whatever you do with the information is up to you"
Sansa had put it off as long as she could, but with night falling outside the castle Sansa knew there was no more time to delay. Breaking open the seal, her eyes quickly scanned over the contents. There were two documents; one a note and one a certificate.
Her heart crawled into her mouth as she read the certificate the High Septon had signed when she married Tyrion – and then the note from the Citadel saying an annulment had never been made.
A thousand thoughts clawed at Sansa's mind, fighting to take control of her. Littlefinger had told her he'd arranged an annulment; that the marriage was dissolved as it had never been consummated - but that was another of his lies. How stupid had she been to believe him? Annulments weren't easy to get, particularly between powerful families. Tyrion had been the Kings uncle. Their marriage had been a royal wedding in the Sept of Baelor. Littlefinger would not have the power to procure an annulment for such a match – and the game was all about power.
Sansa's hands trembled as she stared at the certificate. A storm of emotions threatened to break through Sansa's guard, but all she could do was smile.
She'd never been Ramsay Bolton's wife. Their marriage before the old Gods was invalidated by the document in her hands that said she was the wife of Tyrion Lannister.
'I will never hurt you'
Heat spread through her chest at the thought of Tyrion and the promise he'd made on their wedding day. Of all the men she'd known he was the one who'd kept his word; the one betrayed by his Queen who'd given hers.
Sansa had made a promise too. She would rescue Tyrion and unlike Daenerys it was an oath she wouldn't break.
Tyrion shrank back as Cersei waved that thing in front of his face.
"Come now little brother, don't you want it back?"
'I'll come back for you, I promise'
So many lies.
Tyrion had been desperate to believe so many things; that he could play the game, that he would triumph over Cersei – that Daenerys had ever been his friend.
The hand of the Queen pin he'd once been so proud of was now held in his sister's grasp; mocking him for his stupidity.
"When I defeat your Queen I think I'll show her what's become of you before I take her head. Do you think she'll feel sorry for you?"
Tyrion stayed silent. Qyburn was pottering about, gathering knives and whatever equipment he needed to pull Tyrion apart again. He tried not to pay attention anymore; even when the man described what he was doing as he cut pieces of him away. All Tyrion had to do was wait. Death would come eventually and he would eagerly surrender to its embrace when it did. His body wouldn't work properly anymore, the cell was freezing and he was given barely enough food and water to survive – he was a weak creature, it couldn't be much longer.
Cersei's hand closed around his jaw, her nails digging into his skin.
"I asked you a question imp" she said, her green eyes burning into his "Will the dragon whore feel sorry for you?"
Cersei was angry. If she was angry she'd hurt him more.
"Answer, or I'll teach you another lesson..." she said, roughly shaking his face
"She won't care" he said, barely recognising the raspy voice as his own. It was better to play Cersei's game. Maybe if he did she'd leave him alone.
"Why won't she care?"
"I mean nothing to her"
A smirk pulled at Cersei's mouth "Why do you mean nothing to her?"
"I mean nothing to anyone" he said, his chest heaving "I'm worthless"
"Are you a lion?"
"No, I'm an imp"
"Are you a Queen's hand?"
"No"
"What are you?"
Tyrion stumbled for an answer, his heart pounding as his mind refused to come up with anything that might appease Cersei.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten?" said Cersei, letting go of his face to trail her finger down his chest and across his stomach. Gods, not there again. After the first time she twisted his cock, she'd developed a habit of doing so whenever she wasn't satisfied with his reaction to whatever torment he was enduring. Every time she did it he hated himself a little more.
Mercifully her hand stopped just before his groin "I think here will do Qyburn"
The failed Maester leaned over him, taking note of the space "Very good, your Grace"
"See to it after you've finished your experiment – can't have the little monster forgetting what he is"
"Will you be staying your Grace?"
Cersei smirked down at Tyrion, her eyes filled with hate "Regrettably not. There's a war to fight after all"
The old man bowed his head "Of course, your Grace"
"I look forward to seeing the results later"
"You won't be disappointed, your Grace"
A sob built in Tyrion's throat as Cersei left him alone with Qyburn. The man's dead eyes stared at him as if he was a lump of meat ready to be butchered. As Qyburn clamped a hand around his jaw to force some foul smelling liquid down his throat Tyrion tried desperately to detach himself from what was about to happen.
Sansa drummed her fingers against the table as her family settled into the chairs around her. The assault on Kings Landing would begin in less than an hour and Sansa had never been more nervous. Defeating Cersei was the only way to keep her family safe and win the North's independence - the only way to save Tyrion. There was no other choice but that didn't mean Sansa liked it. Cersei was ruthless and they were attacking where she was strongest. The thought of losing her family in the war to come sent an icy chill through her heart - Sansa wouldn't survive that.
She glanced around the other occupants of the room; Bran, Arya and Jon. They should know the truth before they attack Kings Landing; there should be no secrets.
"Thank you for joining me" said Sansa "I know the timing isn't ideal, but I learned something last night that I think you should know"
Bran gave her a knowing smile. Of course he knew - he'd probably known before he gave her that document.
"When Littlefinger sold me to the Bolton's he told me - and everyone - that my marriage to Tyrion had been annulled" she said, her fingers brushing over the document sat in her lap "it turns out that was another lie"
"How do you know?" asked Arya, her brow furrowing
"I wrote to the citadel" said Bran "I thought Sansa should know the truth"
Arya nodded, her grey eyes studying Sansa's face "So Tyrion Lannister is your husband?"
"By the laws of gods and men" said Sansa
"Are you happy about that?"
That was a good question. Answering it truthfully meant lowering her guard to examine the emotions constantly battering at her defences. It meant facing a truth Sansa wasn't ready for.
"I'm happy I was never truly a Bolton" she answered honestly
"You'd rather be a Lannister?"
Sansa narrowed her eyes at her younger sister's challenging stare "I'm a Stark, and I always will be"
Jon sat forwards drawing her attention "Sansa we all know you care about Tyrion. Whether you want an annulment or you want to stay married to him - it's your choice. After all you've been through you deserve to be happy"
A lump formed in Sansa's throat at his words. Neither Bran nor Arya denied what he'd said; as if they knew what she'd spent so long denying - what she couldn't put into words.
"He's my friend" said Sansa, heat creeping into her face
Arya rolled her eyes "Seven hells…"
Jon gave a half-smile "Whatever you say. We will rescue him - I promise"
Sansa nodded, trying to ignore the stirring in her chest "Thank you. I'd like to keep this between us…until I can talk to Tyrion"
Her family nodded their acceptance and some of the weight lifted off Sansa. Bran had said the knowledge was hers to use as she liked, but Sansa had no idea what to do with it other than tell her family. When Tyrion was safe they could deal with it - the news would likely be as surprising to him as it was to her.
"While we're all together, there's something I need to make clear" said Jon, drawing their attention "when we take Kings Landing and defeat Cersei I will not claim the Iron Throne"
"Jon, you have the best claim" said Sansa. They'd never arranged it officially - there wasn't time - but she'd assumed Jon would take the throne. Sansa had promised the North independence and who ruled that was another matter, but Jon was the true heir to the Iron Throne.
"I want no part of it. I'll fight with my family, but when the war's done I'm going North"
"The North will be independent" said Sansa, nodding her acceptance "You will be our King"
He shook his head "No I won't. I'll take the black again"
"The Nights Watch doesn't exist anymore" said Arya
"I'm done with politics and thrones. When we're safe, I'm going to the true North"
Sansa studied her brother. Dark circles ringed his eyes and he seemed to have aged years in the space of a day. His announcement was a dagger to her plans, but if Sansa deserved to make her own choices Jon surely did too.
"Winterfell will always be your home" she said
Jon smiled "I know"
Arya's face had fallen at Jon's decision, but Bran seemed impassive; as if he'd expected it.
Before they could continue a knock on the door drew their attention, and Podrick's voice drifted in to them "The troops are ready, my lady"
Sansa's stomach fluttered with nerves; the war was beginning.
Cersei stared out the window, her grip tightening around her wine glass as she took in the dark form of a dragon in the distance. That it was setting fire to the iron fleet was hardly surprising, but the figure riding it was.
"You're sure?" she asked
"Quite sure, your Grace - it's Jon Snow riding the dragon" said Qyburn
"Where's the silver-haired whore then?"
"As you know my little birds have been oddly quiet, but it's rumoured she'd dead"
Cersei whirled around "Dead?"
The old man nodded "Betrayed the day before they were supposed to attack"
"That would explain why they're a day later than expected"
The Queen's mouth turned downwards at the news. She'd wanted to kill the Targaryen girl.
"Is Jon Snow leading them now? He didn't seem the type to want a throne"
"I believe it's an alliance put together by Sansa Stark"
"I want her dead" said Cersei, hatred bubbling through her "bring the murderous little bitch to me"
Qyburn bowed his head, but there was hesitation lurking in his eyes "Your Grace, perhaps we should plan for an escape"
"A lion doesn't run from its enemies" she said, sipping her wine "Euron's fleet only need one good shot to take down the dragon. I have the Golden Company as well as my own soldiers - victory will be mine"
Arya's feet were soundless as she slipped down the corridor, following the laughter that bounced off the dark walls until she reached the source. Varys had given her directions to where they were holding Tyrion, but rescuing him wouldn't be possible until Cersei was defeated. While this wasn't a task Arya would have chosen for herself she knew how important it was to Sansa.
The first thing that hit her when she made her way down here was the darkness, followed swiftly by the cold. The black cells were known to get worse the lower down you went and this was one of the lowest levels – where Tyrion had been held prisoner for weeks. Despite the blackness that clung to this level of the dungeon there were a few meagre torches spaced along the passage for the guards benefit.
Sliding along in the shadows Arya came to a stop outside an open cell door. One guard was stood in the doorway holding a torch while two more were inside – laughing as cracks echoed down the corridor.
"Oi imp, the Queen wants you to know she hasn't forgotten you" laughed one guard, followed by a fleshy thump
"Eh Gareth, reckon I can break this?"
"If it aint already broken"
It took every piece of training Arya had to not kill all three of them then and there. She forced herself to stay in the shadows as a snap filled the air, followed by a moan of pain. On and on it went, Arya forcing herself to go deaf to Tyrion's whimpers and cries. Those men would die, but Arya couldn't fail her mission. Killing and hiding three bodies was too risky. Until Cersei was defeated her duty was to guard Tyrion's cell and to do that she needed a face. If the allied forces failed, Sansa had given orders that Tyrion be smuggled out through the passageways despite his injuries. Podrick and a group of unsullied were on standby in case that course of action became necessary, but it was far from ideal. Arya needn't look in the cell to know Tyrion was in no condition to be moved.
If all went to plan Arya would blend in as a Lannister guard until Sansa came down here to get Tyrion – if she wasn't here by nightfall they would move to the back up plan.
Before the assault began Bran told them he'd been sending ravens for the past week summoning the lords of Westeros to Kings Landing as well as requesting Maesters and healers. They'd asked him why of course, but Bran had merely said it seemed necessary. Arya had found Bran's words and actions were rarely pointless. For him to take such steps Arya took it as a sign they would be victorious. The three-eyed raven had stayed with Missandei and a small number of guards some distance from Kings Landing, though she didn't doubt her brother was watching the proceedings.
After what seemed like a lifetime, the guards moved out of the cell. The light of the torch was enough to illuminate the splatters of blood on their armour.
"Think the Queen will be pleased?" asked one guard
"Reckon she will. As long as we don't kill him"
"Poor bastard's practically begging for death"
The cell door was locked again and after several more jokes at Tyrion's expense, the two guards moved off leaving only one behind to guard the door.
The death was far too quick as Arya stepped from the shadows and slipped needle through his neck. The man slumped against the wall as his eyes closed and Arya guided him down. The guards had taken the torch leaving only the dim lights of the corridor. The door to Tyrion's cell was mostly wooden with a metal grille in the middle, though the poor lighting made it difficult to see anything. The darkness did nothing to hide the muffled sobs coming from the other side though. For a moment Arya was tempted to try and talk to Tyrion; to tell him Sansa was coming.
Reluctantly she turned away from the door, drawing her knife to prepare the face she needed. It was better that things appeared unchanged for now, though guilt gnawed at Arya for leaving Tyrion in his suffering. If things went well Sansa would be here soon; but Arya knew seeing what had happened to Tyrion would break her heart.
The wind whipped through Jon's dark hair as Drogon incinerated the ships before them. The scorpion bolts shot inches from them but Jon urged the dragon forwards. It was these ships and weapons that had killed Rhaegal, and Drogon seemed to know it. Getting the dragon to accept him as rider had been fraught to say the least - the edges of his cloak were still charred from the encounter. Jon remembered Tyrion commenting on how intelligent dragons were, and Daenerys had thought of them as her children.
Jon didn't know about any of that - all he knew was Drogon was as angry as he was. That they'd both lost someone they loved, but somehow knew Daenerys wasn't herself. Euron's fleet was a smouldering heap on the water as Drogon destroyed it, but Jon's eyes searched for the man himself.
They swooped low over the water where the bodies of the dead and dying littered the wreckage. It was then Jon saw him pulling himself ashore on some rocks. He was limping but he'd avoided most of Drogon's rage - abandoning his ship and men when he realised it was a slaughter.
Jon urged the dragon low enough to dismount, drawing his sword as Euron turned to face him.
"Where's the dragon bitch?" he asked, water dripping from him "You aint half as pretty bastard"
"You left your men to die" said Jon, his hand tightening around long claw
"I can get more men, there's only one me" he said, shrugging as he drew his own weapon "besides your Queen traded in her pet dwarf"
"You're a coward"
The smile dropped from his face "No-one calls me that - especially not a bastard like you"
Euron charged in, swinging his sword downwards as Jon brought his blade around to block. The steel clashed as Jon Snow's fury found a release.
Death was everywhere as Sansa walked through the wreckage of the city gates.
The Golden Company had been the first line of defence but the savagery of the Dothraki horde and the discipline of the Unsullied had eventually overwhelmed them, with the Northern forces fighting ferociously for the independence they'd been promised. The allied forces had seen far more losses than it would have with Daenerys plan - but bringing Drogon near civilians was too dangerous. The dragon would have obliterated the Golden Company, but there was no telling how much more damage he could have caused. Aside from that, Jon's relationship with the dragon was tenuous at best. Varys seemed to share her thoughts on the situation.
"This was the right course of action lady Sansa. Daenerys plan risked the lives of innocents" said Varys, scrunching his nose at the sight of a man with a severed head lying in the street.
"Do you think this will work?" she asked
"I believe there's a chance" said Varys "It's the Lannister captains we need - and they are more likely to favour Tywin Lannister's son over his daughter"
"If they don't?"
"Then there will be a battle and more lives lost; but I don't think it will come to that"
"Lady Sansa" called Brienne, jogging over to them. Blood streaked her sword and armour but she appeared relatively unharmed "We have them"
The lady of Winterfell followed her sworn shield through the ranks until she reached the small square where both armies were facing each other. The Lannister guards had their swords ready to fight, but appeared reluctant to do so. Grey Worm stood at the head of the allied forces; his spear held ready. It was when Sansa reached him she heard the shout.
"Ring the bells!"
Several more followed, echoing around the empty streets. Sansa turned to Grey Worm, her chest tightening "There are civilians out here?"
He nodded "They hiding"
She knew Cersei had brought many of the people within the gates of the Red Keep promising protection, however much of a lie it was. Yet the population of Kings Landing wouldn't all fit - the ones who weren't inside the walls had been left to hide in their homes as a battle raged around them. Sansa's throat tightened recalling the riot in Kings Landing all those years ago. She'd been terrified and these innocent people surely felt the same having been left in the middle of a warzone. If Daenerys had attacked the city with Drogon it would have been a massacre.
A dragon screeched behind them and Sansa didn't need to turn to know Jon had returned. He would keep Drogon away from the city, but the Lannister guards didn't know that. To them a fiery death loomed in the distance.
Sansa's stomach twisted with nerves as she stepped forwards, though her voice remained steady as she addressed the Lannister guards "We come today to end the rule of a tyrant – of a woman responsible for countless deaths"
"You serve the dragon Queen!" shouted one man
"You're here to kill us!"
Sansa straightened her back as the other leaders of the allied forces stood behind her. They'd chosen her to speak; to represent them.
"That is another of Cersei's many lies. Daenerys Targaryen fell to madness, and is now dead" she said, muttering breaking out through the Lannister ranks "Westeros has seen enough of madness. Enough cruelty, lies and manipulation to last a lifetime. All of us here today want different things – but an end to Cersei Lannister unites us all"
"She's our Queen" called one guard "We are sworn to serve her"
"You are sworn to serve the lord of Casterly Rock. Following the death of Ser Jamie Lannister, Tyrion Lannister is your rightful lord"
An older man stepped forward, his face grave "He was disinherited, Cersei is the lady of the Rock as well as Queen"
Sansa shook her head, raising her voice so it would reach all of the assembled soldiers – they needed to know the truth.
"That is another of Cersei's lies. Lord Tyrion was never formally disinherited and by all the laws of the land is the lord of Casterly Rock" said Sansa, levelling her gaze on the older man "Your loyalty should be to him"
Sweat trickled down Sansa's back as the men turned to each other. Her own forces were ready to attack at a moments notice but whether it would be necessary was a different matter entirely. Varys had suggested there was dissent in the ranks over Cersei's treatment of Tyrion, and it hadn't taken much research to find Tyrion hadn't been formally disinherited. To do so a royal decree would need to be issued which was never done. However clever Cersei thought herself arrogance was her undoing. She'd believed the Lannister forces loyalty to her would be unquestioned, and it had for as long as Ser Jamie was alive. Now the truth was out there and all that remained was to see whether the path to the Red Keep would be bathed in blood.
Sansa drew in a breath as the allied forces readied for battle behind her "I ask you now; who do you serve?"
Arya brought the torch near the metal grille, peering in to try and see Tyrion. It didn't make much difference; all she could see was a small, covered form curled up in the far corner of the cell. Reluctantly she pulled the torch away, returning it to the holder in the corridor.
At least his crying had stopped.
For hours Arya had stood wearing the previous guards face, trying to ignore the whimpers and cries coming from inside the cell. She was sure she'd heard Tyrion speaking at one point, but his voice was so quiet and muffled it was impossible to work out what he'd been saying.
Not long ago two young guards had arrived to feed the prisoner, though thankfully they hadn't seemed familiar with the guard whose face and clothes she wore. If Arya was going to take a face she would normally study the target first but there simply hadn't been time. The guards had spoken briefly with her but Arya was immediately aware they were trying to get rid of her.
There was no part of Arya that wanted to leave Tyrion at the mercy of more guards, but she couldn't afford to draw attention to herself either. The only way to ensure success was to play her part. Reluctantly she'd accepted their offer of a break to take a piss, though she'd hidden herself in the shadows down the corridor rather than leave. Her main purpose in being down here was in case Cersei decided to kill Tyrion. It was always possible she would try and finish him off if she knew the war was lost. The disguise Arya wore was too bulky for stealth, but the darkness of the black cells had worked in her favour.
To her surprise the guards hadn't beaten Tyrion as the previous ones had.
"Drink this m'lord" urged one voice "it'll numb the pain"
"Bloody hell" murmured the other "look what they did to him. If we get caught we're gonna join him"
"I can't take it anymore. I wanted to be a knight, not doing shit like this"
"People reckon we're monsters because of the Queen. I wanted to protect people"
"Some of the other men are enjoying this; as if he's not our lord"
"Careful" hissed one man "Don't know what side the other guard is on..."
Arya had listened on as the two guards tried to get Tyrion to eat and drink. She hadn't seen Tyrion herself, but what she'd heard was enough to turn her stomach. From what she could gather the guards had given Tyrion some kind of sedative, judging by how he fell silent not long after. As kind as the act was Arya wasn't sure it was safe. The whispers she and Varys had heard suggested Qyburn had been using him to experiment on, and Tyrion's mutterings didn't bode well for his mental state. Gods knew what he'd been given down here and adding another concoction into his system was far from ideal.
'Hurry up Sansa' she thought, straightening in her position outside the door 'he's going to need you'
The view from Cersei's window spread across Kings Landing, though it didn't give her any real indication of how the battle was going. The city was little more than a sprawling mess in the distance. It was the dragon flying just on the outskirts of the city that caused her heart to beat faster. The iron fleet had been destroyed and Qyburn's latest intelligence suggested the Golden Company had fallen as well.
Useless - all of them.
The dragon had made no moves to approach the city and Cersei could only assume either Sansa Stark or her bastard brother were too weak to use the greatest weapon they had. Instead the dragon Queen's forces had attacked alongside the Northerners despite the reported death of Daenerys Targaryen. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth - she'd wanted to kill the silver-haired whore.
Qyburn moved to her side, his forehead creasing as he looked out over the city.
"What is it?" she asked
"I can hear no sound of battle, your Grace"
"Perhaps it's over. Their army will be weary from fighting through the Golden Company, while the Lannister army is still fresh. My father drilled our soldiers to the highest standards - an alliance of savages wouldn't stand a chance"
The old man rubbed his chin, doubt lurking in his eyes "It's possible…though the silence out there is rather troubling"
Now that Qyburn had pointed it out, silence was all Cersei could hear too. No sounds of battle, cries of victory or defeat - it was as if the city had stopped functioning entirely.
It was almost an hour later that Cersei received word the Lannister forces had been victorious and the traitors were being brought into the throne room.
Cersei's heart swelled with excitement as she made her way to the throne room. Ser Gregor lumbered behind them as four Lannister guards fell into step beside her and Qyburn. Finally she had victory over her enemies. The Starks would be no more and the North would fall into line with her rule. History would be what she made it. No-one need know the dragon Queen was dead before the assault - Cersei would make sure the lion's victory over the dragon and wolves was remembered as hers.
"Your Grace, I dare say something about this doesn't seem right" said Qyburn
"Your warnings are always welcome, but in this case I fail to understand your reasons" said Cersei, glancing sideways at the man
"It seemed rather easy. If Sansa Stark's forces were losing why would they not use the dragon?"
"They're too weak. The dragon would destroy everything in its path including the people left in the city. The Starks are too soft-hearted to do what is necessary"
Qyburn nodded, but Cersei knew he wasn't convinced. What he said was true - if you had a dragon you would use it. Yet Cersei knew how the Starks thought. They'd all die for their honour rather than do what it took to win.
Lannister guards lined the halls as she swept into the throne room. Cersei didn't spare the prisoners a glance until she ascended the steps and sat on the Iron Throne.
When she finally turned her attention to the packed hall, her eyes immediately fell on Sansa Stark, before sweeping over the rest of the prisoners. There were at least twenty unsullied, as well as a mixture of Northerners, Knights of the Vale and a few Dothraki. The tall woman who'd returned with Jamie to Kings Landing stood beside the Stark girl, as did a few lords she vaguely recognised as belonging to the North or the Vale. Not that it mattered who they were - they were all going to die.
"Is this all of them?" she asked, as Qyburn and Ser Gregor took their places near the throne
The Lannister soldiers lined the room, blocking off all the exits as an older man stepped forward "No, the rest are stood outside"
"Why?"
"They wouldn't fit inside, your Grace"
Cersei wrinkled her nose at the odd answer. Had they surrendered? There was no need for so many prisoners.
"Very well. Execute all of the Unsullied and Dothraki as well as any Northerners you find. Any prisoners of value are to be brought to my personal attention" said Cersei, a smirk curving over her face as she looked down at Sansa "Have my brother brought here - I want him to watch his former allies die"
"Your Grace" whispered Qyburn "something is very wrong…"
The warning went unheeded; Cersei was too drunk on victory - on having her enemies before her at last. She locked eyes with Sansa, her lip curling in satisfaction "Shouldn't you be on your knees little dove? Come now; sing me a song of how you'll be loyal to me - how you'd never commit any treason"
The Stark girl lifted her head, her eyes an icy blue "You really are the stupidest Lannister"
"Watch your tongue little dove, or you may find it's no longer in your mouth" said Cersei, narrowing her eyes "Your death won't be quick. Perhaps I'll reunite you with your former husband - the imp could use some company"
"You'll pay for what you've done to Tyrion"
"You stupid little girl - I'm going to kill you, and decorate the throne room with your head"
"I think not"
Anger rolled through Cersei as Sansa Stark stared up at her, her face showing no fear. The Queen forced herself to examine the prisoners more closely. It was then she noticed many of them still had weapons. Not that it really mattered - they were well outnumbered by her guards. Her men should have seized their weapons before bringing them here though; carelessness wouldn't be tolerated. Despite their position the prisoners didn't seem to fear their fate. She would have to change that - they should be on their knees begging for a mercy she wouldn't give.
"Trying to be as stoic as your father?" she taunted "It's a thin mask on you that won't survive the pain to come. My little brother tried that too - he thought he was being so brave. Deluded fool actually thought the dragon whore cared about him. The truth soon broke him down"
The Stark girl's face tightened for the briefest moment, as if the words had slipped through the icy image she was projecting. Cersei didn't have time to contemplate it however.
"Your Grace" hissed Qyburn "we need to leave"
"Guards" called Cersei, ignoring Qyburn's pleas "I gave you your orders. Kill them all apart from the Stark bitch and the tall creature that's supposed to be a woman - I want to take my time with them"
No-one moved.
A trickle of nerves crept through Cersei though it was quickly drowned out by anger as she turned to the older Lannister guard who'd stepped forwards "Did you not hear me?"
"I heard you" he said, not moving from his position
Cersei whipped her gaze around the room - why was no-one moving?
"As your Queen I command you to kill these traitors"
"They don't serve you" called Sansa, moving forwards "they know the truth now"
"What truth would that be?" she hissed
"That Tyrion is their rightful lord - that he was never formally disinherited. You've spent weeks torturing their lord, making them guilty of the same crime"
"The imp is a kinslayer, a traitor and a monster. He has no right to life, let alone Casterly Rock!"
"I've heard enough" said Sansa, turning to the lords stood around her "Remove her and Qyburn - and kill her guard"
At Sansa's command the Lannister guards drew their weapons as a number of the Stark forces moved forwards.
Cersei was vaguely aware of Qyburn pulling on her arm and Ser Gregor lumbering past her to fight. She could see the Lannister guards lining the room with their swords drawn to prevent her escaping - yet all she could focus on was the Stark girl stood before her.
'Queen you shall be, until there comes another…'
The words sang through Cersei's mind as she stared into the icy blue eyes of Sansa Stark. Tall and graceful with long red hair framing her pale face.
'…younger and more beautiful…'
No, this couldn't be happening. The lion bowed to no-one; the throne was hers.
'…to cast you down and take all you hold dear'
Ser Gregor was fighting but it was useless, some of the Lannister guards had joined with the allied forces to overwhelm him. Even Qyburn's enhancements couldn't save him from a decapitated head. Hands grabbed at Cersei, pulling her from the throne as a scream tore from her throat.
Sansa's footsteps rang out through the darkness as she followed Varys into the black cells. Pod and Grey Worm accompanied her as they wound their way closer to Tyrion. Cersei and Qyburn had been arrested and were being held prisoner on a higher level of the black cells for now, with a group of unsullied guarding the cells. The Lannister soldiers may have turned on Cersei but that didn't mean Sansa trusted them near Tyrion, or guarding Cersei. Fortunately their captain - an older man called Godwin seemed to understand.
"I appreciate your support in this matter" said Sansa, as the Lannister captain sent off some of his men with new orders
The man nodded "Please understand - many of us disliked what Cersei was doing. We aren't all monsters"
"Certainly" said Sansa "but if half of what I've heard is true Tyrion isn't going to trust Lannister guards"
The man's shoulders slumped, remorse covering his face "I fear you are correct. Nevertheless our swords belong to lord Lannister. We will guard his rooms and serve him faithfully - though I doubt he will welcome our presence"
There wasn't a chance in hell Sansa would let the Lannister guards take care of Tyrion. For weeks they'd imprisoned him, watching Cersei shame him while doing nothing.
Sansa had been desperate to come straightaway, but things needed to be put into place. Godwin had sent out the Lannister forces to help the people of Kings Landing back into their homes and clear up the mess from the battle with the Golden Company. Bran had clearly been watching through the raven's eyes for no sooner was Cersei arrested did he arrive with Missandei and a number of healers. Jon and Drogon had landed in the Dragon Pit according to reports, and he'd take command of the Northern troops to assist the clean-up efforts. The war was done but there was so much left to decide; not least who sat on the Iron Throne.
For now she pushed all those thoughts aside; she needed to see Tyrion.
"We're here my lady" called Varys, gesturing to a lone guard stood outside a cell. The air was frigid and the whole corridor was steeped in an inky blackness that sent a chill down Sansa's spine.
She approached the guard, staring into the brown eyes of a middle aged man with a light brown beard.
"The lone wolf dies" she said
The guard's face twisted into a grin "The pack survives"
Sansa signalled to the others who quickly worked to unlock the door as Arya pulled off her face, causing Grey Worm to mutter a curse in Valyrian.
"It's done" said Sansa "the Lannister guards turned on Cersei"
"Good" said Arya "Is Jon ok?"
"Yes. He destroyed Euron's fleet, and Bran's just arrived" she said, her eyes moving to the cell door "How is he?"
"I've not been in" said Arya, the smile dropping from her face "he…he sounds bad Sansa"
As soon as the lock clicked open Sansa turned her attention to the cell. Pod and Grey Worm stood back to let her through as Varys held the torch in the doorway. The cell was little bigger than a box as Sansa stepped inside, though the first thing that hit her was the rancid smell of vomit, blood and gods knew what else.
She drew in a sharp breath as her eyes moved over the filth covered floor to the figure shaking in the back corner.
"Tyrion?" she asked, stepping closer to him. The light of the torch was enough to illuminate the small figure huddled in a blanket though Sansa's mind refused to accept this was Tyrion.
She crouched down closer to him, her throat tightening as he curled away from her.
"No more...please...let me die" he cried, tugging the threadbare blanket around himself
Tyrion's once wild, golden hair had been sheared down to an uneven stubble all over his head making the old scar across his face stand out even more. Sansa was grateful for the scar – without it she might not have recognised Tyrion. He was trembling in his blanket, his green eyes wide and terrified as he looked at them.
"It's alright" she told him, her voice wavering "you're safe now"
"Not again" he cried "please no..."
Piece by piece Sansa's walls crumbled, giving way to an avalanche of long repressed feeling – too many for her to possibly process. One stood out above the others as she held her hand out to Tyrion and something warm trickled down her face.
"I'll protect you Tyrion – I promise"