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Tyrion’s POV
The Winter Fox snaps their fingers and we watch another masked fox enter into the tent with a medium size metal box. The metal box is placed at the feet of Daenerys then the second fox bows their head to Daenerys and leaves the tent.
“What is this?” Daenerys asks.
“Something that rightfully belongs to you; we found it years ago, waiting for the right time to give it to you. Now it the perfect time and the other item is a gift from us. The gift has been tested and proven to withstand fire. It was not easy but it is done just for you. Let us know if there is anything else you need when we see each other again.” The Winter Fox stands up from the chair then leaves the tent.
My eyes go to Varys and I can tell by the look on his face that he is already going to send his little birds to learn more about these Foxes as soon as he is able. Varys and I look to Daenerys when she kneels down before the metal box. Jorah is standing over her in case there is something terrible within the box.
Daenerys is right in front of the roaring fire pit while the flames are burning strong when she lifts up the latch. She lifts up the lid to reveal what is inside the box. I watch her mouth barely open to whatever lays before her.
Varys and I walk a few steps closer to take a look at what is inside. Varys takes a step back but I am slightly wondering what it is making him and Daenerys react this way. I see Jorah wondering what it means when we both stare upon a crown…
“What is it?” I ask softly in seeing that Daenerys has tears in her eyes.
Daenerys gently picks up the crown in her hands admiring it as a big smile comes across her face. She lightly sobs in placing the crown to her chest like it is the most precious thing in the world to her. “It is my mother’s crown…”
I instantly look to Varys to confirm this and he saw Daenerys’s mother and what it would look like. He is probably the only second or third person to be alive and seen Rhaella Targaryen’s crown with his own two eyes since he served the Mad King just before Robert’s Rebellion.
Jorah gently rests his right hand on her shoulder as she sheds a few tears, still holding the crown. Daenerys holds it out in front of her to study every inch of it. I stare at the beautiful crown, knowing that it is made for a Targaryen Queen.
The Crown is a band of Valyrian steel set with square-cut rubies along the top and right in the top middle is a circle-cut ruby. This crown is a symbol of her heritage especially the rubies to be a meaning to the red Targaryen Sigil.
“Viserys sold it when I was a little girl. He was forced to sell the last few treasures and even our mother’s crown. I remember that day. This crown was the last Targaryen symbol in our possession. I understood why he sold it but it was his last connection with our royal past. It reduced my brother to being called, ‘Beggar King’. I resented him for it although there was no other option since we would both starve if he didn’t sell it. I never thought I would see my mother’s crown again.”
‘When Viserys sold our mother’s crown, the last joy had gone from him, leaving only rage.’
“That is all I can remember thinking of Viserys after that crown left his hands that day.”
Daenerys gazes at the last heritage and piece of her mother. The rubies shine with the brightness of the flames. The beauty of this crown brings a joy I never imagined to see on Daenerys face. I know that she never knew her mother; possibly only stories of her just like my own mother.
It dawns on me that the hatred Cersei had for me killing our mother by coming into the world is probably the exact same hatred Viserys must have had for Daenerys since her mother, Rhaella Targaryen died shortly after giving birth to Daenerys on Dragonstone.
I exhale at the thought of all of this. Daenerys gives the crown to Jorah. He holds it gently as she looks to see what else is in the box. She reveals what appears to be armor but not just any kind of armor. It is built and made like the Targaryen armor. It is all black and pieced together like the scales of a dragon.
“That is all Valyrian steel.” Jorah says.
“My brother, Viserys told me that since the destruction of Valyria, the majority of the surviving valyrian steel weapons served as heirlooms in noble houses of Westeros. And the forging was lost in the Doom of Valyria. How did they come by this much valyrian steel?” Daenerys questions while admiring the armor made just for her.
“Maybe these Foxes collect many things and those two items being one of them. I have heard of a sort of ghosts that collect vast items all over the world for centuries. Hardly any of these items are seen again until these ghosts feel otherwise.” Varys speaks while taking a closer look of the armor.
“My guess is that those ghosts decided otherwise now. A whole armor of this steel, many would give up money or land for this alone. Aside from its sharpness, Valyrian steel is recognizable by its strength, and in comparison to ordinary steel, it is light weight.” Jorah says while also admiring the look of the armor.
Daenerys rubs her fingers over the symbol of her house on the lower right side of the armor. She stands to her feet and tells Jorah, “Ask Missandei to come. I will need her assistance.”
Jorah bows his head to her then hands her back her mother’s crown. Daenerys watches Jorah leave the tent then her eyes come to us. Varys and I both wonder what she wants to do next.
“Shall we begin?” She says exactly as she did when we first arrived to Dragonstone.
“We shall, my queen.” Varys and I both say at the same time.
We leave the tent right as Missandei and Jorah are walking up. Varys and I walk to the courtyard of Winterfell. We notice that Jon is still not back yet from his flight with the dragon, Rhaegal just as expected. We go to stand by a fire going, watch a bit of the training happening all through Winterfell.
However many are still not showing any kind of respect to the Dothraki and the Unsullied helping in the training. I can see that the Dothraki and Unsullied are wondering why we still remain here due to North’s cold and harsh treatment.
Varys and I continue to stay warm and wait until Jorah walks into the courtyard. He is also getting the cold, harsh treatment of the North. He keeps on walking with not a care in the world of what they think. Jorah stopped thinking that possibly years ago when he fully devoted himself to Daenerys.
Jorah walks by us with a small nod. We give him a nod back then watch Sansa walking down to the courtyards of Winterfell with the Northern Lords and Ladies. Varys and I stare at one another ready of what needs to be done next. It all depends on how they will respond for what is to come.
“It certainly has been one game at a time. And here we are playing the Game for Daenerys Targaryen.” I say to Varys.
“Yes we are. How does it feel to play like we use to?” Varys asks.
“It is a good feeling. The last time I felt like this was when preparing for Stannis Baratheon’s attack on Kings Landing.”
“Ah, yes. You truly enjoy the Game then and now.”
“I do however the enjoyment is fading the older I get. I say let’s sail to the Summer Isles and worship their God of Tits & Wine. What do you say?”
Varys gives a small chuckle remembering the conversation we had years ago speaking of the Lord of Light and the Drown God being such vicious cunts. I would rather worship one with the sixteen tits and no one else when it comes to the Gods.
“Do you want not to play anymore when all of this is over?”
“I do however I’m unsure how much longer I can keep playing it. How about you? How much longer can you play the Game?” I ask him wanting an honest answer.
Varys takes a moment of his answer and tells me, “I imagine the rest of my life. After all, I serve the Realm. I will always play the Game for the Realm to my last breath.”
“That sounds terrible, Varys. I’m just going to pretend what you said is all a nightmare.” I respond in disappointment of his answer. The Game is his life; he lives and breathes for it.
“All we can do is not paint dreams or nightmares and paint our own reality.” Varys says with a small smile.
I give him a small smile back as the heat of the fire keeps us somewhat warm in this freezing cold. We focus our attention back to where it needs to be.
Varys and I are observing Sansa trying to talk to some of the Lords about her brother, Jon. Many of these proud Lords speak of how their King is turning his head to Daenerys and her dragons. They are not entirely wrong however Daenerys is here to prove that she is a good queen.
“I understand your concerns, my Lords and I will speak to him as soon as he returns.” Sansa says to reassure them but I can see that it is not working.
I would step in to say a few words however I am smarter than to do that. They do not like me nor will they, no matter what I say or do. Varys and I see that the same treatment burns in a bad way to Daenerys. A Northern fire she may not withstand if it continues.
I watch one of the Northern Lords and quite a number of his men leave Winterfell, at least 500 men. That can only mean one thing; he is leaving and abandoning his duty to Jon as his King. If one of them goes, the rest will surely follow before the Night King arrives.
The others are about to leave Sansa. I can tell she is frustrated in all that is happening. Maybe some words from a wise man will help now. I go over to Sansa. She sees me. I do a small smile to her. The woman before me is no longer the girl I knew in King’s Landing.
“I often wondered if you were well after what happened at Joffrey’s wedding and escaping my arranged execution. I have seen a fair share of weddings, far better weddings and that wedding was not one of them.” I recall Joffrey’s wedding day and her disappearance of King’s landing.
Sansa has a look of regret in her eyes when I mention my execution. She takes a step closer to me then comes down to be my height like she once did when we were walking the Gardens of the Red Keep. I am not quite fond when others did so but I am ok with Sansa doing so.
“I apologize for leaving the way I did. You didn’t deserve that. You were the only one who was kind and treated me like a human rather than a chess piece to move in order to gain power. You may be a Lannister but you were the best of them. You tried to protect and help me whenever you could especially when I learned of my mother and brother’s death.”
Her eyes go down to the ground. I know it is because she is thinking of her mother and brother. I gently brush my fingers under her chin for Sansa to look at me. I see a few tears in her eyes. She may be a different woman but there will always be a small part of her that I knew in the South.
“Sansa, your mother would have wanted you to carry on and you have. She would be proud of you. I can see that you are fierce and strong just as your mother was. Now you are The Lady of Winterfell like your mother was.”
“Thank you, Tyrion. I should have treated you better than I did in the South. I feel the same about you for Hand of the Queen but I do question the Queen you serve.” She says with a disapproving tone about Daenerys and stands to her feet.
I can see that she is just as stubborn as her mother was. This is the time I speak truth to her in what needs to be done in the war against the Army of the Dead, no matter how much the truth will hurt.
“Sansa, I can only imagine the terrible hurt that my family and Daenerys’s family has done upon the entire North. The Lannister and Targaryens will forever be judged for the crimes we have done however I do see some here that have been forgiven for their crimes.”
My eyes go to some of the others in the Winterfell court yard. I briefly glare at the remaining members of House Karstarks then back to Sansa. “Not too long ago, The Karstarks were butchering some of their very own north men right outside these walls.” I point my hand in the direction of where the Battle of the Bastards took place.
“And yet here they are, forgiven and here to help with no judgment or ill will toward any of them. There is peace because of your brother, Jon. And now without him, Daenerys Stormborn would not be here helping in the Great War to come. I understand that every north man, woman and child know of the terrible crimes her father The Mad King has committed and only know of the stories of Queen Daenerys from the stories told across the sea. Believe me; I even had my concerns of her until I got to know her.”
“Everyone has always asked me to believe in things, family, Gods, Kings, myself. It was often tempting until I saw where belief got people. So I said no thank you to belief and yet here I am. I believe in her, Daenerys Targaryen. It is embarrassing really. If someone had told me years ago that I would believe in a Targaryen and become their Hand, I would have thought them to be drunk. I can never give her my sword since I do not own a sword. She would rather take my council over my sword any day and night. My council is hers, now and always. Even though I am the brother of the Lannister that ran his own sword through her father, a Lannister, she chose me all the same when she gave me this badge.”
I place my hand right below my badge. I admire it for a moment, recalling the moment Daenerys placed it on me, naming me her Hand. Sansa seems like she cannot find any words to say to me right now. I struggle with my emotions as I sniffle in brief moment.
“Daenerys is the first one I ever believed in and the first one I ever kneeled to. You were there when Joffrey demanded me to kneel before him. I would have died rather than kneel before that vicious bastard to this very day.”
“Lord Tyrion, what are you trying to say?” Sansa says in getting frustrated that I am speaking out in the open of Daenerys to her face. I can see many are watching Sansa and me. I do not care for others hearing what I have to say to Sansa.
“Lady Sansa, I understand all of the North hatred toward Queen Daenerys but I will not council her into possibly giving her life for people that will remain as stubborn as an ass toward crimes she had no involvement in. Especially due to the fact that she was only a newborn baby during Robert’s Rebellion. So what I am trying to say is this: will all of you remain asses or will you do your duty, fight alongside Daenerys and her forces so that we may all live to the end of our days?”
Sansa exhales deeply with a certain look in her eyes to me. I have only ever seen that certain look in the eyes of my sister. But Sansa is not Cersei. She is still slightly the same girl I knew in the South, no matter what she may act or do.
Suddenly at least two masked Foxes come over, wanting to watch what is happening. One of them is smoking and passes the cigar to the other like they are having dinner and a show. A third masked fox comes up asking, “How much did I miss?”
“Shh. Just started.” One of them says then takes in a puff of the cigar. I put my attention back to Sansa when she is about to speak.
“Tyrion, the North was taken from all of us and we took it back. We all agreed we would never bow to another again unless it is one of our own. All of the North is loyal to our own; we respect one another and understand responsibility of the North.”
“Responsibility?” I repeat her choice of word because she does not even understand the true meaning of that word.
“Lord Tyrion, this is already more difficult than it already is and many of us are doing the best we can in our behavior toward the Dragon Queen.”
“No, none of you are doing your best. You are speaking of responsibility and yet you are not doing so. I know two people of the North that would be more responsible in these times unlike the whole lot of you before me.”
“Who would do far better than we are doing? Who are these two north men that would know the duty we are enduring?” Sansa begins raising her voice toward me.
“Lord Eddard Stark and Robb Stark, your father and brother.” I say to her like a straight arrow to her heart.
Sansa freezes in hearing their names come from my own mouth as do others around listening. I take a step closer to Sansa. I cannot hold back my thoughts on their treatment to Daenerys.
“On Dragonstone when I reunited to Jon, I still saw the young bastard boy I traveled on the road with to the Wall while seeing his father and brother in him in the short time I knew them. But the main thing I saw in him, a man who is terrified because he knows what kind of world, what kind of future awaits every person in the world if you continue to treat Daenerys like you all do.”
Sansa scoffs in my words about to chuckle but I stop her. “If your father and brother were still here, they would do exactly what Jon has done. They would make a temporary truce with their enemies and fight alongside people you would never imagined to fight with. Ned and Robb would have made an arrangement with Daenerys as Jon did. Ned and Robb would have done what is necessary.”
My eyes see that my words sink into Sansa. She knows full well I am right in what Ned and Robb Stark would do if they were here now. I sense the reaction of everyone in Winterfell at the very mention of their names by someone like me.
“So all of you must make a choice: are you merely a kingdom that does not want to accept help from a foreign ruler or a kingdom united alongside another ruler with one purpose, fighting to live?”
Sansa is shaken in my direct words as the Lord of the Vale walks over us. “Lord Tyrion, I believe that is enough to Lady Sansa. And I hardly believe this is a conversation out in the open.”
“I am sorry, my lord but this conversation needs to be had. Our Queen has come here of good will instead of her long awaited pursuit for the Iron Throne. She is here as an ally but all of you treat her like an enemy when she is not your enemy.” Varys says as he approaches.
“How can we believe what she is? We have heard the stories.” Lyanna Mormont also approaches.
“The Mad King’s Daughter has an army of savages, mindless killers. I know the Dothraki have raped, enslaved women and butchered others to be how they are in their heathen ways. The Mad King inflicted horrors upon all of Westeros as did Aegon the Conqueror; the Dragon Queen Daenerys is no better than them. I know of her brutality in Essos. She’s feed noble men to her dragons that are here within our northern sky. We will never trust her nor will we ever…”
“That is enough!!!” We all look to see that it is Jorah Mormont who spoke out. He walks over with his hand gripped on the handle of his sword. Lyanna Mormont is about to speak but her tongue is held back the moment Jorah stands with me and Varys.
“I understand more than anyone the view of Daenerys. I believed in it once myself until I saw a girl step into a great fire with three stone eggs. When the fire burned out, I expected to find her blackened bones instead I saw her, Daenerys, alive and unhurt, holding her baby dragons...”
His eyes go up to the sky where Drogon is flying. He lets out a roar knowing in a way that he is being spoken of. Jorah lets out a sharp exhale. “I am one of the first men to hear the singing of baby dragons and it is unlike any song I have heard. Their singing still shakes me down to my bones.”
“He was once the size of a cat as were the other two, Viserys and Rhaegal, named after her brothers. Such small things they were when two of them sat on her shoulders and the third in her hands. It was hard to be a cynic after that.”
Jorah is speaking some of the same words he spoke to me when he was taking me to Daenerys. It feels like years ago when his words were spoken but remembered words none the less.
“I stayed by her side and if it wasn’t for Lord Eddard Stark chasing me out of Westeros, I never would have been destined to meet her. Lord Tyrion was a cynic just like I was; believed in nothing until meeting her just as I did; the same for Lord Varys. When the Great War is won, all three of us will watch as she climbs those steps and sit on the Iron Throne and rules.”
“That does not mean she will be a great queen for Westeros.” Lyanna coldly says.
“No, it doesn’t but look at what she has accomplished in Essos alone. She is the best and last chance to build a better world.” The lords and ladies tongues are held as he speaks to them of Daenerys.
“You are a born of the north, Jorah. A once member of our family house and still can be with the right loyalty. Does North loyalty mean nothing to you, cousin?” Lyanna questions with fury to Jorah.
“It means everything to me.” Jorah says standing his ground to his somewhat terrifying younger cousin.
“And yet here you stand!” Lyanna shouts to him.
“And yet here I stand. That dwarf man once said that I am a sane man devoted to serving her and that is what I am. I will and have killed and even die for her. So here I stand.” Jorah speaks to Lyanna Mormont directly, taking a step closer toward her.
Jorah giving reference to House Mormont words, Here We Stand. Lord Varys eyes me when the entire courtyard is as quiet as a crypt with the Mormont face to face. Jorah slowly backs away then stops as Varys, Jorah and I stand for Daenerys.
The three of us know that no matter what good word or action is spoken of Daenerys, none of them will change their minds of Daenerys even with Jon’s view of her. We all look at one another thinking the same thing then nod in agreement in what Jorah is going to speak next.
“Since the moment Queen Daenerys has arrived, all of you have failed to show the proper respect for her and we will not stand for it.”
“I beg your pardon—“ Sansa speaks but Jorah stops her.
“We will not stand for it... Daenerys is intelligent, kind, and loyal woman that makes impossible things happen. She is a credit to her mother who she never knew. And since any of you clearly do not wish to jeopardize your loyalty by associating with her majesty, then we will ensure that you no longer do.” Jorah tries not to raise his voice in angry to them.
“What do you mean?” Sansa questions with the suddenly look of fear of what is about to happen next. And it is a good thing to fear for them.
“We will leave at once.” I speak the words Sansa was dreading to hear.
“If you intend to hurt us with your empty threats-“ One of the Lords speaks but stops when Lord Varys interrupts him.
“The only thing that shall be empty is Winterfell.” Lord Varys walks away.
All of them start to realize that we are going to leave them here alone with just their small forces against the Dead. I try not to smile by the look on their faces.
“You cannot be serious!” Sansa shouts as the Foxes watching begin to cheer with some clapping toward Varys, Jorah and I. I ignore their clapping as Jorah walks away.
Jorah shouts out to all Dothraki and Unsullied in Winterfell in their tongues. Every single one of them stares at Jorah when his horse is brought to him. He mounts up while they do not take their eyes off of him.
“Dothraki and Unsullied, oaths you have taken to Queen Daenerys to secure the Iron Throne! Now fulfill them all to your Queen, ride out!”
Without question, each one of them grabs their weapons, leaving the training circles. Dothraki mount on their horses, and call out their battle cries. The Unsullied get into marching formation. Greyworm mounts up on his horse and has his horse next to Jorah’s horse. Jorah speaks to Greyworm for a moment then Greyworm has his horse walk on, leading the march of the Unsullied out of Winterfell.
“We will leave swiftly and we will not trouble you with any kind of invitation for Daenerys coronation for the North shall not receive one except for Jon Snow, The King in the North who does show her with the upmost respect unlike his people.” Jorah says then rides out of Winterfell.
The Dothraki follow behind Jorah out of Winterfell. The sounds of the galloping horses out of Winterfell almost seem like an eruption when they ride out toward their camp to start packing their things. Many eyes are widening at the sight of Winterfell becoming more of a ghost town.
Sansa stare around then swift her gaze to the Lords and ladies who are in a huff of hatred in what is occurring. Varys and I stand stiffly together while our carriage pulls into the courtyard.
“Thank you for the temporary stay in Winterfell, Lady Sansa. The last time I visited Winterfell, the view of us was still cold but not as cold as it has been for this visit. This visit was quite enlightening. No matter, this bitter cold will be left behind us and Daenerys.”
Jorah and Varys walk away with the Unsullied. Sansa walks over in anger, “Lord Tyrion, I must speak with you alone.”
“There is nothing left to say. I will not have Daenerys give her men, her dragon children and possibly her life for people of the North anymore than she already has at the loss one of her children saving your brother beyond the Wall. I will advise her not to stay here anymore.”
“Tyrion!”
“No, Lady Sansa. I am sorry. There is nothing left to discuss. The dead will come here first. To all of the loyal lords and ladies of the North, enjoy fighting them without Queen Daenerys. She will deal with all that is left when they come south. And if her forces are not enough to destroy the Army of the Dead then I will ensure that she flees across the Narrow seas where she can still rule as Queen of Meeren.”
I walk away from Sansa even as she tries to grab my arm. The remaining Dothraki and Unsullied ride or marches out of Winterfell gate. I stop for a moment, seeing how empty Winterfell is becoming every moment that passes.
Sansa has a look of pure terror on her face before I turn and walk away from her. I see a carriage is still waiting for me and Varys. Varys climbs into the carriage. I am about to do the same until Sansa wraps her hand around my hand. I freeze when she does this.
“Lord Tyrion! I beg a word!” She raises her voice in a begging manner.
“Nothing can be said to change our minds.”
“I beg a word with Queen Daenerys herself. Please.” Sansa says while breathing heavily.
I am somewhat shocked when Sansa herself called Daenerys by her name and called her queen. She now knows what will happen if we are to leave. Maybe this was the right call made. However, only the conversation between Sansa and Daenerys will seal the next move.
“Lady Sansa, do not make me regret this. Get in.” I tell Sansa.
Sansa literally gets into the carriage. None of the Northerners question her when she gets in. I tap the side of the carriage to let the driver know to head to the encampment. Sansa sits next to me and across from Varys.
Sansa and Varys say nothing but Varys casts a glance at Sansa, probably thinking the same as I did of Sansa. He also sees that she is no longer the exact same little girl she was in her time of King’s Landing. The carriage stops at the edge of Daenerys’s camp, we open the door.
Sansa steps out to see many Dothraki glaring at her then she sees the entrance of Daenerys tent. She seems somewhat scared however she lets out a deep exhale then enters into the tent. Varys and I look at each other with a small smile on our faces.
