Chapter 2

“You know, Jamie did help you rescue me, Varys. I just thought that I should point that out,” Tyrion observed to Lord Varys, who smiled calmly in response.

“Of course. I did not mean to imply otherwise, though I suppose that my words could have been more carefully phrased. I simply wanted to make it clear that you do not owe the kind of debt to your family that would cause you to spare Cersei from her doom. She blamed you, framed you with your father’s aid, spied on you through Pycelle, tried to hurt Shae, hurt Ros instead, plotted to have you murdered during the Battle of Blackwater Bay, when you saved the city of King’s Landing from Stannis, with my aid, I might add, and undercut you by encouraging Joffrey to run back to the safety of the Red Keep. Then she wrecked part of the city, destroyed the Sept of Baelor, and slaughtered hundreds, if not thousands, with her wildfire. You owe her nothing,” Varys explained his position and why he had downplayed Ser Jamie’s role in saving Tyrion’s life.

“I wonder if Jamie would have aided me if he knew that I would kill Father, or that I would join the enemies of House Lannister. Then again, you don’t back a lion into a corner and expect him not to attack you. I’m a Lannister. I have to stand up for myself. Thank you, incidentally, for helping me out there. Twice, in fact. Getting me out of King’s Landing and also giving me a goal worth pursuing with our Queen. I admit that my first foray back into Westeros didn’t go so well, but I’m improving, I would say. I saw the sense in Davos’s objections, for one thing,” Tyrion defended himself now.

“Well, yes, you did improve, and to be fair, I haven’t been as helpful yet ... until last night, that is. I think that I have contributed in my own meager way to the strategy discourse. The trouble is that we have no supreme commander, no general above all others, with the possible exception of the King in the North if he’ll take the job, Ser Jorah Mormont, or else Grey Worm, who isn’t here right now. I imagine that Grey Worm’s role will grow larger as he invades the Stormlands, though. As commander of the Unsullied, he will be counted on to help restrain the worst impulses of the rather undisciplined Dothraki horde. Having our Queen’s complete trust will help him in that cause,” Lord Varys added now.

“Yes, we do need a general, but not Grey Worm or Ser Jorah, no offense to them,” a voice behind them declared.

It was a far too familiar voice for the liking of either the Imp or the Spider. Daario Naharis, captain of the Second Sons, was on Dragonstone, and frankly neither of the Dragon Queen’s men thought that this was good news. It wasn’t, as they were about to discover.

“What happened to Meereen? You were supposed to stay there and keep the peace. I don’t believe that Queen Daenerys will be pleased with you showing up after abandoning your post. She could burn you for it. She’s burned plenty of others, you know. Very recently, in fact. I would suggest that you ask Lord Randyll Tarly and his son Dickon about that, except that you’d have to find their ghosts,” Tyrion warned Daario.

He sounded very much the Hand of the Queen right then rather than the disappointment that he was as a strategist of late.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid that Meereen isn’t an option, not even as a refuge anymore. It’s fallen again. Volantis has launched an invasion of the Bay of Dragons, aided by forces from Tyrosh, Myr, Qarth, and Norvos. It seems that a successful slave revolt was anathema to them, and quite frankly, I’m surprised that it’s taken them this long to commence. Yunkai is wavering, Meereen has been taken, as I said, my Second Sons have been nearly annihilated, and Astapor is openly negotiating with the slaver cause. I worried that this might happen and it has.

“I fear that it won’t be long before Slavers’ Bay is just that once more, and with a vengeance. In Meereen, they’re already unleashing their own reprisals on freedmen, installing Sons of the Harpy sympathizers and survivors as rulers of the city, and reopening the pleasure houses, fighting pits, and so forth. Seven of my Second Sons were taken alive and impaled on sharp stakes just outside the city walls as a warning to anyone who tried to liberate the place again. I could hear their screams of agony for miles as I fled for my life, thankfully with enough gold to book passage here.

“The only good news is that Braavos and possibly Pentos might not take this lying down. There’s talk of sending Faceless Men to assassinate the new Great Masters. It’s not that the Pentoshi necessarily like Daenerys or the cause of freedom, more that they like not having to pay up to visiting khals and she rid them of that. They don’t want her coming back with a horde of Dothraki at their doorstep. Braavos is another matter entirely. You know what they think of slavery,” Daario briefed Tyrion and Varys, raising both men’s hackles a bit.

“Well, this is a turn for the worse that I should have expected, but it isn’t my fault in the least. Who can predict when a great slaver city might attack the Bay of Dragons? I will have to risk our Queen’s displeasure when I tell her of this. I fear that you will bear the brunt of her wrath, Daario, and I think that you know that. At least you’re man enough to present yourself and face her judgment. Just remember that she is a Targaryen, with all that entails,” Tyrion reacted to this awful news, while Lord Varys privately felt relief that his native Lys stayed out of the conflict.

“With Braavos actively opposing Volantis, this could turn even our Westerosi war into a much larger conflict. To say nothing of the Golden Company, whose whereabouts are unknown and who would answer to whomever Harry Strickland favors. If he takes a deal with Cersei now, he’s risking war with Braavos, but he’s also helping her chances of victory. He might well do that, but he might not, either. The Golden Company are notorious mercenaries, but they are traditionally linked to House Targaryen. They have that past to consider. Also, will the Iron Bank really favor Cersei if she’s arguably on the same side as slavers? That’s highly debatable and unclear,” Varys paced a bit as he watched Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow emerge from their chambers.

“Is there anyone who could perform a marriage rite here? Of any kind?” Jon Snow blurted aloud.

“I wager that I could. I’m Hand of the Queen, after all,” Tyrion spoke up, adding, “though as you can see, I come bearing some ill news, courtesy of Daario here.”

“You’re no septon or Red Priest, but you’ll do in a pinch. Daario, what is the matter? Why are you here? I told you plainly to stay behind and rule Meereen in my name. What’s happened?” Dany’s eyes flashed with anger and worry.

“Volantis and some allies have invaded the Bay of Dragons. I couldn’t hold the city against their assault. Most of my Second Sons are slain. Meereen is now in enemy hands again and both Yunkai and Astapor could well slide back into slavery as well. Seven of my Second Sons were taken alive and executed, impaled on sharp stakes as a warning to freedmen and liberators alike. I’m ... sorry that I failed you, my Queen. I barely escaped with my life ... and this,” Daario presented Dany with some gold.

“A small consolation for your failure. We will not speak of this now, but you will atone soon enough. Just know this. You will never grace my bed again. Are we clear? That’s over. Done. Not just because of this. Also because of why Tyrion wanted you to stay behind. I’m getting married. This morning. At dawn. To Jon Snow, of House Stark, the King in the North. We will rule Westeros together, as King and Queen, husband and wife. You knew that this day was coming the moment that I left you behind and told you my reasons. This won’t be like my Meereenese marriage. It’s already one of flesh, not just of law,” Dany warned Daario before turning to Tyrion.

“Ah, yes ... the wedding. Varys, if you will be so kind as to gather our war council for this?” Tyrion urged the Master of Whispers to collect everyone, as it would go faster that way.

“Oh ... yes, of course,” the Spider hastened to get the inner circle together, minus Grey Worm, of course, as if this was old hat to him.

“Thank you ... for not burning me,” Daario did his best not to act disappointed at the cold reception, but he was honestly relieved not to become dragon fodder.

“Yes, well, we’ll see if you enjoy what I have in mind for you much more than that,” Dany hissed, still being very piqued at Daario’s failure and return, right or wrong.

“Some better news, my Queen, is that Braavos and maybe Pentos might well oppose Volantis in this matter. They could well end up denying Cersei funds and lending it to you, perhaps even pushing the Golden Company your way. Seems that Pentos doesn’t want Dothraki khalasars coming back to collect tribute and Braavos has never much approved of slavery, anyway, for rather obvious reasons. If they end up fighting Volantis and her allies on your behalf, it saves us a lot of trouble later,” Tyrion naturally seized upon the chance to be the bearer of good tidings instead of bad.

“That’s ... much better. Perhaps an alliance with Braavos and maybe even Pentos is in order. I don’t approve of Pentoshi servant customs, but at least it’s not outright slavery. Braavos could well be a useful friend in many ways, especially with that Iron Bank of theirs. My King, didn’t you say that your younger sister Arya had studied somewhere in Braavos? I wonder if she still has contacts there,” Dany for the first time openly acknowledged Jon’s title as King in the North.

“Yes, my Queen, she did, though in what capacity and what she studied, she didn’t make clear to me. Perhaps some more water dancing. She had a Braavosi fencing master teach her a thing or two from what I was told before. Syrio Florel. He was killed by Lannister guards while protecting her from harm and allowing her escape,” Jon explained, now holding Dany’s hand to comfort her, which seemed to work well enough.

Just then, the others gathered, and Dany impatiently ordered Tyrion, “Get on with it, please.”

“I only know the words of the Faith of the Seven, so I hope that suffices, even if I’m no septon. Join hands, please, my King and Queen,” Tyrion cleared his throat, wishing for some wine right then.

Dany eagerly joined her hand to Jon’s, her face giving first an expression of steely resolve, softened by affection as she looked her bridegroom in the eye. He stood there with a mixture of shock, awe, and surprising passion, not to mention determination of his own. Not only would this union give him an unexpected happiness that he never thought possible back when he joined the Night’s Watch, but it would strengthen the North against the White Walkers and the Night King in the Great War to come.

Dany’s dragonglass, her Dothraki and Unsullied, and virtually all of the soldiers of Westeros who survived this last phase of the War of Five Kings, would be at the disposal of the realms of Men and the North in particular against the forces of the Dead. Well, that was, assuming that Jon and Dany won. If the Lannisters prevailed, their victory would be hollow, as none of them took the Night King seriously as a real threat. They would soon fall to the White Walkers and wights and Winter in Westeros would be permanent.

“I have no ribbon here, so I will just speak the proper words instead. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity,” Tyrion recited the proper rite for the officiator.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days,” Jon led the way, knowing the proper vows from his upbringing, despite his own preferences for other religions.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days,” Dany responded, catching on quickly.

For his part, Daario looked on like a street urchin in Flea Bottom who just had his bowl of brown snatched by a bully or thief.