The Raven's Plan
Author's Notes: Sorry for the very long delay. Unfortunately, that's just how life is. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. As always, Enjoy! And Don't forget to Review! :D
Rating: M; it's Game of Thrones, anything less is not Game of thrones :D
Summary: The Second War for the Dawn is over, the Others have won. All that is left is one insane plan.
Chapter 49 Delivering the News
Meera Reed
The thing she had to remind herself of everyday, was that it was still summer. Feeling warm everyday was harder to get used to than she had imagined. And not something she thought she'd have to get used to in the first place.
Still there were worse things to have to get used to again.
Training continued, whether with Arya, the men at arms, or helping Rickon restrengthen his arms, or even showing Lady Shireen the basics. Weapons training hadn't been a part of her education the last time around, so Meera had taken her under her wing, showing her things that would work for her current slight frame.
Today was a quieter day, the children, or rather those that currently looked like children were with maester Luwin for lessons. Though not the usual lessons owing to their foreknowledge from their last lives, most were more advanced than was normal for children of their apparent age.
Though after Hightower's message and revelation of the Maester's betrayals, maester Luwin seemed unsure and more hesitant in his actions and thoughts than before.
Meera sighed, despite everything, things seemed to be going well enough, even with the South not being pacified yet.
She was in the training yard today, bow in hand and for the moment alone. She locked her eyes on the distant target and drew her bowstring back, aiming for the bullseye. She took a deep breath and released.
The arrow flew through the air and hit the bullseye with ease.
Meera smiled and lowered her bow.
"Meera," called out Sansa from behind her.
Meera turned and smiled, "Sansa…" she trailed off.
Sansa's normally impassive icy face was shocked and as their eyes met they turned dark and almost apologetic. The hairs on the back of Meera's neck rose, feeling as if she was walking into some sort of ambush.
"I'm sorry," Sansa said solemnly as she approached.
Meera frowned, she shook her head, "What for?" she asked warily.
Sansa's demeanour grew even more solemn, she approached and placed a hand on Meer's shoulder, "They were ambushed by Wights. South of the Wall…I'm sorry Meera. Jojen was killed."
Meera just stared at Sansa, in incomprehension, "No. Wights killed Jojen the last time," she shook her head, "You're getting things confused, Sansa." A sense of unreality settled upon Meera. Her brother was fine, he knew what was coming, he wouldn't have let Wights kill him again. Father was with him, he would have protected him. Hells, they had an entire army with them!
Sansa squeezed her shoulder, "They were ambushed, they still don't know how, but they were. He sacrificed himself to save Bran," her voice was filled with sorrow, and a slight bit of trepidation, she shook her head, "They're still sorting things out. They don't know how the wights crossed over, but the Wall still stands."
It didn't make sense, Sansa's words didn't make a bit of sense.
No this wasn't happening, they'd altered Time! They'd brought everyone back! But Sansa was adamant…and she wouldn't lie to her about this.
Meera fell to her knees and wept at the unfairness of it all.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Jon Targaryen
Returning to Castle Black was a time of reunions for some, new meetings for others and a new start for many that had never reached the Wall the first time around.
He tried not to think about Ygritte and the others that had died here, and what they were feeling walking into the castle without a fight this time.
It was an unsettling time for Jon, between the battle with the Night King and how everything was changed, he was at a loss as to what was their next next step. A specific step, consolidating power and the Iron throne was still the overall plan.
His room in Castle Black was still set up for him, and more importantly, after a night's rest there was an entire table of missives waiting for him. A deep sigh escaped from Jon, being King wasn't fun the first time around and it still wasn't.
One of the black brothers had helpfully deposited and left a tray of food and jug of ale next to the waiting missives.
Pensively, he sat down heavily at his desk and grabbed the first missive from the pile in one hand and a cup of ale in the other.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
The news wasn't as bad as he expected, most of it had already been relayed to him by Bran through his visions. Though Sansa's words were a lot less cryptic than Bran's words and filled with actual helpful suggestions.
Tyrion was secure in the Westerlands, Sam was good in the Reach as well, though the weight in Jon's guts over little Sam weighed heavily upon him, and he was in no rush to explain the situation to Sam. Jon felt like a coward for avoiding this issue, but it would be better to tell him face to face, and not by raven.
Surprisingly, the Iron Islands were also very much standing with them. Yara Greyjoy was turning out to be a much better leader than any Greyjoy in recent memory. She was turning out to be more like her grandfather than her father. For which, everyone was thankful for.
Davos had finally appeared and he was in Winterfell…with a number of friends. He was glad, he'd come to depend on the old man's advice, it would be reassuring to have him back at his side. Though he wondered how father would react to having him so close.
Though a small vindictive part of him would have loved to have seen Lady Stark's face upon meeting Gendry.
As for Qyburn…that was completely unexpected, the added bonus of him bringing along the Mountain's head as a gift, left him feeling…uncertain. He needed to think more on this point.
Anyway everything south of the Riverlands and east of the Reach was still uncertain. Or downright unknown when it came to Dorne. The issues there were very much out of his and his allies' control. Once the dornish had sorted themselves out, they wouldn't be quiet about their position.
The Stormlands were all in Robert's court, the Crownlands, by virtue of proximity to King's Landing were with him as well. For the moment at least, Targaryen loyalties ran deep there. Near nothing had been heard from the Narrow Sea Houses, Lord Velaryon was conspicuously absent and silent. Which was just one more thing he wanted to ask Bran about.
He sat back and thought, there were so many issues to discern, not including any preparations for dealing with the Others. And they still had no concrete ideas on how to properly deal with them.
One step at a time, he reminded himself mentally. Consolidate the Kingdoms and then everything else.
For now he had everything here more or less under control, the Wall was being manned now, better than it had been in centuries. The casualties from the battle were all dealt with and no one else was expected to die from their wounds, Robb was going to be sore for a while and his back would have a spectacular scar from his battle. The last of the Free Folk were trickling in, soon enough there would be no reason for anyone to cross over in the Lands of Always Winter till they were ready to face the Others.
The only issue that still weighed on his mind was Dany. From Sansa's news, Dany's position was secure, but Viserys was an unknown factor in her camp, how would he react to everything that had changed, what would he try to do. Dany's remembrances of him were not complimentary. He had an idea to put his worries at ease. Now he just had to convince the relevant parties to go with it.
Now he just had to convince everybody involved in his idea.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
One rather uncomfortable- though successful meeting later with the Lord Commander and Maester Aemon, Jon found himself sitting at a table with his father and Ser Barristan.
Or rather Ser Barristan was standing at attention at the edge of the table in respect. The old knight had a tendency towards excessive politeness and respect these days. Jon believed it was his form of an apology for serving Robert instead of…well anything else. Sacrificing himself in a show of loyalty to Rhaegar or attempting to flee to help Dany and Viserys in Essos.
Ser Barristan's emotions and reasonings were complicated to say the least.
Jon came directly to the point, "I am concerned about Dany and her having to deal with Viserys," he frowned, "His sanity is a potential issue for all of us. I've already spoken with Commander Mormont and Maester Aemon today, after a lot of arguing they've agreed with me," he stated.
Father gave him a calculating look while Ser Barristan looked on earnest and waiting on Jon's orders.
"I've asked Maester Aemon to travel to Pentos to advise Daenerys," Jon stated simply.
Father frowned, "Aemon is a member of the Night's Watch," he stated the obvious.
Jon nodded, "I realise that, but as I stated to Mormont, him going to Daenerys could be considered securing help for the Night's Watch."
Father didn't reply, but his face answered for him.
Jon held up a hand, "The decision has already been made, my uncle is already preparing his things," he paused for a moment, "All that is left is to talk about his escort." Jon finished, his eyes turning to look pointedly at Ser Barristan.
Ser Barristan met his gaze and then frowned, "Your Grace?"
"Ser Barristan, as much as I appreciate your presence at my side, there is no one I would trust with Aemon's safety more than you. "
"Your Grace, my place is by your side, I am the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard," Barristan argued in dismay.
"I have survived a long time without a Kingsguard, I have good men by my side here and now," Jon retorted firmly, " My decision is already made."
"Your Grace, you cannot be serious," Ser Barristan began, "None of your men have my skill and experience."
Jon nodded, "Which is why you are perfect to keep an eye out for Aemon. And why I can't trust anyone else as much as I can you."
Ser Barristan was at a loss for words. His own arguments coming back to condemn him to his King's unwanted assignment. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before seeming to slump in defeat. "As you command, my King." He finally acquiesced to the command.
Well that was one thing off Jon's mind, sending Barristan with Aemon to Dany was multipurpose for Jon. First and foremost being making the old Knight explain to Dany why he chose to pledge loyalty to Jon instead of her- most importantly while Jon wasn't in stabbing distance.
He kept his elation from his face, as he turned back to his father, "As for us…" he began.
"...we need to return to Winterfell quickly. And from there down into the South," father's face turned grave, "we need to deal with Robert quickly. One way or…another," the emotions overcame his normally stoic face.
Jon knew how much it hurt his father to say so much. Robert Baratheon was still a sticking point for him. Some bonds of friendship were harder to break than others.
"…I've spent the morning arranging things for us," father explained, "on the morrow, we will be riding hard for Winterfell. We will be riding hard. I haven't had the need to ride this hard since the Rebellion." He admitted.
Jon nodded, "Good, then we should make our final preparations today, we cannot stay here more than today. More importantly, we need to decide who stays and mans the Wall along with the Night's Watch. We can't bring everyone along with us into the South."
Father nodded thoughtfully, "Aye."
In the end, on the morrow, they'd set out for Winterfell…and from there, the South. He took a deep breath, there were still so many things they had to do before the morrow.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Tyrion Lannister
He was walking down the corridor leading to his father's quarters, Bronn was walking by his side. Or rather swaggering down the hall with all the ego of a new Lord. His wedding to Lady Lefford was a quiet and very quick affair. He always had a smug look on his face these days.
But all of that was unimportant to Tyrion now.
He'd been putting this off, he'd almost passed it off to aunt Genna to tell him the truth, but in the end he'd decided that he wanted to see his father's face after this revelation.
To see a lifetime's worth of arguments and hatred based on a lie, be overturned in an instant. All things considered, even with everything else going on, this was not a situation you wanted to pass off to someone else.
Tyrion had so many things swirling in his mind, he still hadn't gone to confront Creylen. The goalers were left to beat him every other day, though nothing permanently damaging. Not until Tyrion had come up with something truly memorable for him. He had too many options, but nothing that seemed right to Tyrion. Not for all he had endured because of him.
Not to mention, still sorting out Robert and the Others.
Two much more massive issues for his- and everyone else's' continued survival, but this here and now was far more important to him. A little perspective was essential, but he had little of it at the moment.
They reached the door and Bronn reached out to open it for Tyrion. He paused before opening and gave Tyrion a look.
"You sure 'bout this?" he asked seriously.
"Not really," he replied flippantly.
"I know you have better things to be doing," Bronn paused and gave him a rakish smile, "I also happen to know there's a nice new girl that would like to meet you, at a certain place that you know. Matter of fact, everyone there misses you."
Tyrion gave him a vexed look. Even after the return, that wasn't an option for him anymore, "Open the door."
"You don't know what you're missing," Bronn replied with a shrug as he opened the door.
Tyrion ignored it, straightened his back and walked in to confront his father.
Inside, the room was immaculate and organised as expected, though for the first time in his life the room looked more lived in than before. Tywin Lannister had always been a man that liked to oversee things with his own eyes. Thus necessitating more time in other places as opposed to staying in his own rooms.
As always Tywin Lannister's presence dominated the room, captivity had not changed that ability. Though Tyrion saw subtle signs in him, fraying along the edges, his beard was not as sharply shaped, and his clothes were not as finessed.
Today, he was seated at his desk, despite it being empty of the normal daily missives that had been a part of his life for so long. The remains of his breakfast tray sat to one side, the food was partly eaten.
Tywin turned and his eyes caught sight of Tyrion. The unamused expression on his face turned into unhidden disgust and displeasure.
"So now you've come to torment me?" he spat at Tyrion. "It isn't enough all you've done to my Legacy?"
Tyrion snorted and pulled up a chair to sit opposite Tywin's desk. He sat without comment.
Bronn remained silent and leaned back to watch the two Lannisters speak, he leant back by the door.
Tyrion gave Tywin a long look, "I have a quota of annoyance to fulfil with you, and I'm shockingly behind."
Tywin snarled and rose menacingly, "Impudent Imp. I should have thrown you into the ocean when you were born!"
"I'd settle down now," Bronn threatened from by the door, a hand going behind his back to his throwing dagger.
Tywin gave him a disgusted look, before sitting back down.
Tyrion ignored the byplay and continued speaking unworried, "Understand father, you live only because of aunt Genna and uncle Kevan. If not for them, I would gleefully hand you over to the Martells," he taunted his father.
Tywin Lannister sneered back, only the presence of Tyrion's pet Sellsword restrained him, and kept him from physically attacking Tyrion.
"Anyway, I believe I've met today's quota," he gloated before gesturing Bronn forward.
He approached and pulled out the Hightower letter, placing it in front of Tywin, before returning to his post.
"Read. A message from Lord Hightower," Tyrion commanded simply.
"And I should care what Leyton has to say?" Tywin remarked irritably.
"On this matter… you will."
A flicker of uncertainty came across Tywin's face for a moment, Tyrion's tone must have betrayed some importance for the message. A moment more passed before he reached out and took the letter and began reading.
Tyrion watched his father's face as he silently read the letter. Moments passed. Tyrion saw the emotional flare he was waiting for. There was The Moment, the moment that he saw his father start to pay attention to the letter. Tywin's face betrayed him, the famous icy resolve of Tywin Lannister cracked and broke at the revelation.
And the lie was finally revealed.
The moment of true realisation was apparent. The expected blossoming of rage without end. The beginning was like a wildfire explosion on his father's face.
" Joanna…" the whispered name surprised Tyrion, but Tywin choked off whatever else he was going to say. He was breathing very heavily now, his breathing the only sound he was making.
" Creylen." The word was more of a statement than a question, but it was undeniably a question.
"He lives."
" What?! " exclaimed Tywin in surprise, "Why is he still breathing? Why have you not spread pieces of him across all the Westerlands?!" he raged.
Tyrion shrugged nonchalantly, "I simply haven't come up with anything horrible enough to do to him," he explained simply.
Tywin stared for a moment before grunting, he slumped back into his chair.
Tyrion enjoyed his father's lapse of control, "You were played for a fool." He twisted the metaphorical dagger in Tywin's icy heart.
Now there was a degree of rage in his eyes that Tyrion had never seen before.
Tyrion could feel his emotions slipping away from him, "I did nothing! All that you did was torment me!" he roared bitterly. "For nothing! Because of a lie! Because of the damn maesters!"
Tywin looked away from him, now unwilling to meet his eyes.
Tyrion shuddered, pulling his emotions under control, there was much in this whole situation that still confounded him. He had all the control but he felt completely out of control, here and now.
Silence fell in the room, the two Lannisters sitting in a new world, made from the revelation of lies and conspiracy. They had been twisted into abnormal shapes and were only now, returning to their truer forms.
Tyrion broke the silence first, "So here we are."
Tywin didn't stir, he wouldn't meet Tyrion's eyes.
The moment grew longer, the only thing audible was Tywin's harsh breathing, he was still breathing heavily.
After a while Tyrion stood up, leaving the table and walking to the door. He paused and looked back at his father.
The great and powerful Tywin Lannister was sitting at the table, boiling with a silent impotent rage. A large part of Tyrion felt happy to see his father so reduced. Another part of him felt nothing. So much had stemmed from the maester's betrayal. More than a lifetime's worth of insults and abuse. Far too much to be made right now.
Tyrion mentally dismissed him and left him to stew in his rage, he had more important things to do. A future to plan for, maybe even a happy life…if they survived the Long Night.
Author's Notes: Hope everyone enjoyed this :) I'm guessing that everyone was waiting for the last scene :D;D That last Tywin scene fought me to the end, and I'm not sure if I did it justice. Anyway, as always, don't forget to comment! :)