Fire and food, but are they alone? Apologies, but more show dialogue, but again slightly twisted.

Tyrion

Tyrion had a love/hate affair with the dragons. They fascinated him and filled him with awe and wonder. They had practical uses, like getting from one place to another very quickly, although it was problematic if they still had to wait for an army. He supposed if you were stuck in the middle of nowhere, they'd make life easier when it came to building a fire, although he wasn't sure whether their cooking technique would be of much use, they tended to burn things instead of cooking. What he didn't like was being sat on the back of one and their killing capabilities. However, today they were going to a parley, or so he hoped. If Daenerys could keep her temper and not resort to using Drogon, then their life would be significantly easier when she did take the Iron Throne. If she had to resort to Fire and Blood, then the reaction from Westeros could get a little...messy.

They flew over the sea to avoid detection and to find out if there were any suspicious looking ships heading south, however there was nothing which looked out of the ordinary. There seemed to be more ships sailing north than usual, however with the Ironborn being concentrated on the eastern coast of Westeros, it was no surprise that the ships sailing north from Oldtown, would use the western coast.

The Unsullied were spotted first, a surprisingly long way east of Highgarden. Clearly something had driven them down that route, so Daenerys landed Drogon at the front of the army, where they stopped to greet her. Daenerys climbed down and Tyrion followed her, sliding down the wing of the dragon.

His Queen briskly made her way over to the soldier at the front, Grey Worm; her long silver-white hair blowing in the wind, the dark grey woollen jacket flapping as she strode over to her Commander. Tyrion held back as soon as he heard the conversation being spoken in High Valyrian, at a speed he was unable to keep up with. He managed to grasp the words meaning direction, procession, soldiers among other even vaguer words, but he couldn't establish the entire contents of the conversation. After a few minutes Daenerys rejoined Tyrion.

"A convoy of coaches which looks to be carrying the grain and gold has left Highgarden. It seems to be following the Roseroad which I believe leads to Kings Landing. Am I correct?" she asked.

"Yes, your grace." Tyrion nodded.

"The soldiers with shields of green with a red archer, would that be house Tyrell?" Daenerys pushed a hair back from her face.

"That sounds very much like the Tarly sigil." Tyrion corrected him.

"Gold and red is Lannister I presume?"

"It is your grace." Tyrion's heart sank. He was up against not only the Tarly's, but Lannister's.

"I thought most of the Lannister soldiers were in the north, Lord Hand."

"So did I, your grace." Tyrion just hoped the rumours of Jaime being in the north were true and that his brother wasn't amongst the men leading the convoy.

"Then we will deal with this first before we pay Lady Olenna and Lord Tarly a visit, although I suspect he might already be here." she turned to Grey Worm and nodded her head. Tyrion swallowed, he hoped Lord Tarly wasn't among them.

"Sōnia ñāqa!" Grey Worm yelled and the men turned on their heel and changed direction, facing north-east. "Memēbagon!" he added and the soldiers began to march.

"What is left of the Dothraki who travelled to Dorne are making their way from Bitterbridge, less than two miles from here. We can surround them and with Drogon from above, they will have to surrender and bend the knee." she smiled.

"How long is the convoy?" Tyrion frowned.

"Around a quarter of a mile long, one mile ahead." she told him.

Tyrion frowned. That sounded wrong. "She can't be shipping all of her grain and gold, the caravan of grain alone would take over a thousand wagons. Including the men required to escort it, I'd guess the convoy should be closer to two miles long, maybe three."

"Nonsense, I'm sure she can fit all of her grain in wagons only stretching a quarter of a mile. You wait here, the Dothraki will be meeting them any time, and the Unsullied will be marching on, waiting for them to fall back. You'll get a good view over there, on that high rock" she pointed over in the distance "of the entire battle. That is if they run, not that it will help."

"Where are you going, your grace?" Tyrion asked.

"I'll be riding Drogon." she said and marched back to her dragon, too quick for Tyrion to follow. Instead he heeded her demands and made his way over to the rock in question.

Daenerys had been right about the view from the rock, he could see the convoy of grain; by Tyrion's estimate of around two hundred and fifty of them, not enough for the amount of grain they should be carrying. This was either a decoy, or they were spreading the grain around so Daenerys couldn't get her hands on it. That would be what Tyrion would do, although it would be down to who he would trust the grain. Screwing his eyes up, he looked at the wagons closer. They were all covered and none of them were particularly large, yet they were all being pulled by six horses, which seemed to be far too many for something as light as the grain that could be carried in the wagons on show. Either they weren't carrying grain, or they were trying to move the horses as well. Something about the whole endeavour seemed wrong to him. This was not what they were looking for. It was what the Tyrell's wanted them to find.

Tyrion heard the Dothraki before he saw them. There were only around two thousand of them, but they were all on horseback and approaching with loud war-cries. On the other hand, most of the Tarly soldiers were on foot, despite there being around double the amount of Dothraki. Not that it mattered, there were eight thousand Unsullied marching down on them. Tyrion knew this was going to be a bloodbath he didn't particularly want to witness, despite knowing it was essential, for they needed the food.

Only a few seconds later, the men in the convoy heard the thundering of the horses' hooves and the cries of the Dothraki screamers. Tyrion couldn't make out who their commanders were, but they began to gather the forces as quickly as possible, creating a shield wall, doubling up, leaving half of the wagons unprotected. Even then the wall was only four men deep, not exactly any use against a hoard of Dothraki screamers. Tyrion turned to the west and saw the approaching Unsullied from behind, the poor soldiers and commanders seemingly none the wiser as their entire focus was taken up by the oncoming mounted enemy. Then a deafening screech filled the air, Daenerys was somewhere above in the clouds. The commanders looked up and around them, only then noticing the Unsullied.

Tyrion heard another screech to his left, this time it was louder. Daenerys and Drogon appeared from the skies at the end of the convoy. Don't do it. Tyrion mentally warned her, but he knew it was futile. She wasn't close enough to hear him and even if she was, he doubted she would even listen to his advice. For Tyrion knew, when Daenerys was of the mind of Fire and Blood, she was immovable. Therefore when Drogon opened his mouth, Tyrion prepared himself for what was to come.

The stream of fire hit the wagons first, even the ones without anyone guarding them. The flames stopped allowing Drogon to take another breath before more flames shot out. Tyrion was a quarter of a mile away, but he could feel the heat radiating from the flames scorching the earth, the wagons and now the soldiers. The shield wall disbanded, it was suddenly every man for himself as no wall would protect the wagons. Under dragon fire, it was the safest option. Daenerys flew lower, able to burn more people as she flew. The stench of burning bodies hit Tyrion's nose, making him want to gag as the visuals matched the smell. Finally the Dothraki reached the convoy, Daenerys held back for a moment as her men on horseback, carved their way through the men with their arakh's. Tyrion was glad he was far enough away to not be able to see the gruesome details of the carnage produced by the legendary Essosi warriors.

At one point, a group of five archers aimed for Daenerys, but they must have missed as she continued flying, however she landed and Drogon breathed fire all around, but Tyrion couldn't see exactly what was going on in all of the smoke haze and mayhem. What he did know was a few moments later, Daenerys and Drogon were back in the air flying.

Everywhere the eye could see, chaos reigned down. The Tarly soldiers were being butchered or burned, the wagons destroyed, flames and ash filled the air, causing Tyrion to cough. However, the battle was almost over in twenty minutes. Daenerys had stopped and allowed the commanders to be rounded up, while a few of the foot soldiers fled unscathed, presumably allowed to leave to tell the tale of Daenerys and her dragons.

Drogon landed beside another rock, although not as high as the one where he was standing. The Unsullied were gathering the men to take to her while Drogon stood behind, awaiting his orders. Tyrion climbed down from his observation point and made his way through the hot ashes, some of it already blowing away. On the ground were piles of ash in the shape of bodies, holding themselves in the foetal position, as if it would somehow protect them from the dragonfire engulfing them. However, the shapes of the men were already becoming smaller as the wind took their ashes and spread it far and wide.

The men weren't the only ones the fire had taken. The entire purpose of the attack was to take the grain, now they were coming back empty handed, they would have no food. Of the ones that didn't burn, he saw half a dozen barrels of what would probably be wine, one wagon which Daenerys had missed contained grain, but everything else was destroyed or thrown to the ground, now flying away in the wind. Tyrion brought a handkerchief to his mouth, the stench was sickening. Not all of the men had died in dragonfire. Many had been slaughtered by the Dothraki. The stench of blood, piss and shit filled the air. All around him Dothraki were looting dead Tarly and Lannister soldiers. Tyrion hurried through the slaughter scene, over to the group of mounted Dothraki, Unsullied and captured soldiers, who were standing in front of Daenerys and Drogon.

Daenerys stood tall in front of the captured soldiers. "I know what you have been told, that I've come to destroy your cities... to burn down your homes, murder you and orphan your children. That's Cersei Lannister, not me. I'm not here to murder. And all I want to destroy is the wheel that is rolled over rich and poor to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of the world. I offer you a choice. Bend the knee and join me. Together we will leave the world a better place than we found it, or refuse and die." she told them. A few Lannister and Tarly men knelt to the ground, while most remained standing. As if wanting to help press the point, Drogon roared and moved closer to the men. Almost immediately, nearly all of the Lannister and Tarly men quickly knelt while a tiny few still remained standing, including a man who Tyrion recognised to be Lord Randyll Tarly.

"Step forward, My Lord." Daenerys commanded. Randyll Tarly stood tall and held his chin in the air as he took several steps towards Daenerys, where he stood in front of the kneeling Lannister men. "You will not kneel?" she asked.

"I already have a Queen." Lord Tarly said defiantly.

"My sister, she wasn't your queen until recently though. Once upon a time, house Tarly were Targaryen loyalists, now you have swapped sides, despite Lady Olenna staying neutral." Tyrion frowned, not understanding why Lord Tarly would side with his sister.

"Queen Cersei promised to help me get my son back." Lord Tarly replied.

"So it appears your allegiances are somewhat flexible, if we were to offer the same?" Tyrion asked.

"How can I trust you? So far your alliances with the Ironborn and Dorne have failed. Have you taken steps to retrieve Yara Greyjoy from the clutches of her uncle? What about Ellaria Sand?" Both Tyrion and Daenerys stayed silent. "I thought not!"

"There are no easy choices in war." Daenerys finally spoke. "Sometimes we have to wait until..."

"You are right, there are no easy choices in war." Lord Tarly interrupted her and turned to Tyrion. "Say what you will about your sister, she was born in Westeros, has lived here all her life. You on the other hand, you murdered your own father and chose to support a foreign invader. One with no ties to this land, an army of savages at her back." Randyll argued.

"You will not trade your honour for your life. I respect that." Daenerys said coolly.

Tyrion turned to Daenerys. "Perhaps he could take the black, Your Grace. Whatever else he is, he is a true soldier. He would be invaluable at the Wall."

"You cannot send me to the Wall. You are not my Queen." Randyll argued.

Daenerys gave a commanding look towards her Dothraki escort, one they understood despite the lack of words, as did Tyrion. The Dothraki walked forward and collected Randyll Tarly. Tyrion turned to whisper to Daenerys. "Your Grace, I would urge you to reconsider. Nothing strips bold notions from a man's head like a few weeks in a dark cell."

"I meant what I said. I'm not here to put men in chains. If that becomes an option many will take it. I gave him a choice. He made it." Daenerys argued back.

"Your Grace, if you begin beheading entire families..." he warned.

"I'm not beheading anyone." Daenerys stared at him coldly.

Tyrion stopped and looked towards Drogon, dread filling him in the pit of his stomach. The dragon let out a powerful roar, shook his head and flexed his wings. "Your Grace..." Tyrion protested. Burning may have worked for Aegon the Conqueror, but times had changed, Daenerys would not inspire the love she desired if she went around burning people.

Daenerys looked to her Dothraki escort and gave them the signal they were waiting for. The men grabbed Randyll and walked him over to Drogon.

"Lord Randyll Tarly, I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of my name, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die." Daenerys paused for a moment and looked Lord Tarly in the eye. "Dracarys."

Drogon drew a deep breath and dragonfire spewed out at the man. He was instantly engulfed in flames, and within a few seconds, they collapsed to the ground, their bodies turned to ash, which quickly started to blow away in the wind, leaving only a crater where Lord Randyll Tarly once stood. The onlookers recoiled in horror, and every soldier that was still standing, quickly knelt to the ground. Daenerys watched them silently, turned her heel and walked off the battlefield.

They remained at the battlefield, if that was what it could be called, for another two days. Out of the over two hundred wagons which were present, only five survived intact, three containing wine, one containing around ten bushels of wheat. Everything else had been destroyed. The other wagon contained a rather interesting and quite terrifying artefact, well more of a weapon. Tyrion remembered it from his dragon histories. It was called a Scorpion, designed for felling dragons. He knew Cersei would have been proactive, but he hadn't expected her to have a weapon as advanced as this so quickly. This did not bode well, although fortunately, Daenerys had managed to destroy the user before it was fired upon her. She had noticed it from the air and had taken drastic action, which was why she'd landed. Along with all of the other loot, it was loaded onto her own wagons to take through Dorne and on to Dragonstone.

Once Daenerys was satisfied, she and Tyrion left on dragonback to go back to the cold, windy island. As much as he hated the battlefield, the weather was an improvement, although there was a distinct lack of creature comforts in the tents provided, compared to the castle on Dragonstone. When they returned, Daenerys immediately found Missandei, who had been waiting for her.

"What news?" Daenerys asked as Missandei handed her a scroll, which she handed to Tyrion.

News has reached me from my little birds of an Ironborn defection, should we not come to their aide. I have gone to treat them. I will send news as soon as I have it. I know the tunnels better than anyone, even the one who was looking to upgrade the sewers.

Varys

Tyrion looked up at Daenerys. He knew this letter was a load of shit. The eunuch had waited until she'd left to go to battle, before fleeing the island. Probably to defect into the arms of another, and Tyrion suspected he knew who that other one was.

"When did he leave?" he asked Missandei.

"A few hours after you did. A raven arrived. He looked most distressed. He arranged a boat and left, giving this to me." Missandei's seemingly innocent nature could never fail to touch Tyrion.

"Thank you." Tyrion nodded.

"What do you think, Lord Hand? Why does he mention sewers?" Daenerys asked.

"I was gifted the opportunity to upgrade the sewers of the Red Keep. I believe he is referring to that." Tyrion explained, still not entirely sure whether he should reveal his suspicions. If he was correct and didn't, then he would be burned alive, if he was wrong and did, then Varys might burn or might not. As a Lannister and a dwarf, Tyrion's greatest strength was self preservation at any cost. "Your grace, although I cannot be certain, I feel Lord Varys may have absconded. Using your time away as an opportune moment."

Daenerys frowned. "Lord Varys pledged to me. He knows the consequence of betrayal. I doubt he would lose faith. He has spoken many times to me in private in regards to his concerns over the Ironborn problem. I am aware he has been searching for Yara Greyjoy. This letter is of no surprise to me." she smiled. "I was expecting it. I must make sure my allies believe I will keep them safe."

"Lord Varys never spoke with me about his concerns regarding the Ironborn." Tyrion frowned, confused as to why Varys would not tell him of his plans.

"I asked him to keep quiet on such matters. It would not look good for me to fail. I need to have the knowledge before I can look to help. He gave you a clue as to where he went, did he not?" she asked.

"He did." Tyrion agreed. He still wasn't sure whether to believe his old friend, but if he was lying and had defected to Jon and Sansa, then no matter what Tyrion said, Daenerys was never going to believe him. And deep down, if it weren't for the Dothraki, Unsullied and three dragons, especially the three dragons, Tyrion would have followed, regardless of Jon's threat; after all that was more survivable than dragonfire.

"Your grace." Missandei interrupted Tyrion's thoughts.

"Yes Missandei." They were now walking up the pathway to the castle.

"Did the dragons join you?" she asked.

"Drogon did. I left Rhaegal and Viserion behind." Daenerys frowned. "Why?"

"They left two days ago. I thought they might have sensed you needed their help. They haven't been back." The translator looked a little scared.

Daenerys smiled. "They have been known to fly off and feed for days. According to Lord Tyrion, he once spotted Drogon flying over Valyria. Is that correct?" she asked.

Tyrion nodded. "On my way to offer my services to the Queen, I saw him flying over the old ruins."

"He would have been around the same size as they are now." Daenerys mused. "Maybe they feel the need to visit the old world when they get to a certain size."

"I suppose it could be when they mature." Tyrion agreed, although again he felt a little uneasy. The dragons had acted strange lately. This and Varys disappearing made Tyrion wonder if everything was falling apart.

"They'll be back in a few days." Daenerys smiled. "Trust me."

"Of course your grace." Missandei nodded and they made their way back to the castle.

Somehow, Tyrion simply couldn't forget Jon's threat about stealing the dragons. Although how does one go about stealing a dragon?