Winterfell - The North — Sometime Later
Trystan found himself enjoying his stay at Winterfell despite his parents' distaste for it. The library was particularly impressive, albeit a bit dark, but perfect for those who wanted to spend time there. The food was a little heavier than what he was accustomed to, but overall, he felt his stay was quite memorable.
However, he could not bear attending the war meetings with his parents, which included arguments between the Lords and their past feuds, which often ruined his mood.
Fortunately, he began to make friends with the Free Folk, who had befriended Jaime, and he was eventually pulled into their circle.
Tormund was particularly fond of the Half-Lion, often comparing him to Jon.
Trystan also became more familiar with some members of the opposing team, such as Missandei and Grey Worm. They were usually around his half-brother, Tyrion, and he eventually met them. As a Half-Dragon and technically a cousin to their Queen, they were interested in him. They were especially intrigued when they realized that he also spoke High Valyrian, although his level was nowhere near that of his mother's.
Nonetheless, both were willing to help him improve his skills in the language.
"I think he's rather good, don't you?" Tyrion asked with some brotherly pride as he stood on a wooden step. They were all standing on one of the many wooden bridges connecting most walls and castle sections.
They were on the highest level since they were the least crowded.
"His accent still needs work, but he learns fast, faster than you," Missandei said, making Tyrion frown slightly, and Trystan glanced down at his feet momentarily.
"Well, unlike my brother, I had practice. Although, I am not the best at writing it," he confessed, standing across from Missandei and Grey Worm, next to Tyrion, with his hands behind his back.
"Reading High Valyrian is hard, writing even more so," the former translator explained, with a soft smile on her features at the innocence and kindness of the Half-Lion. "Not even her Grace has mastered it, yet."
This seemed to shock Trystan.
"My... uhm, my cousin...," he started, somehow finding it odd to call her that when he only found out about her existence a few months ago. "I thought she knew High Valyrian."
"She does, and she speaks it as well as anyone from Essos. She still learns to write and read it," she corrected him. "But she is also a fast learner. Your mother has mastery over it, right?"
He nodded.
"Yes, speak, read, and write. She tried to teach me writing when I was younger, but after I moved to King's Landing, I kind of had no one to practice with and forgot it."
Tyrion scoffed, getting comfortable at the top of the steps to be at closer eye level with his talking companions.
"Yes, we are to be blamed, you see. We showed him what whores and wine and sword fighting are, and we made him forget his language lessons," he commented, partially mocking but also throwing a joke of his own.
Grey Worm, who had become far better at understanding the Common Tongue, rolled his eyes.
"The short man jokes at the wrong times," he said in High Valyrian, making Missandei chuckle and Trystan amused.
"Hey, hey," Tyrion said, drawing their attention. "I might not speak your fancy language, but I know when one speaks about me," he reminded them, although there was no true offence in his eyes.
He then turned to his brother.
"Trystan, what did they say about me?"
The Half-Lion was hesitant for a moment to just snitch out, but Missandei gave him a nod and a warm smile, a sign that she did not mind if he translated.
"He says you make jokes at the wrong time," he translated.
The dwarf played at being offended for a moment.
"I? I make jokes at the wrong time?" he repeated, putting on a small act that came rather naturally to him. "I will let you know that this is a bad habit I have taken from my good-mother. All of us have taken it from her," he shrugged his shoulders. "I have simply mastered it."
His words amused the trio, and the mood between them was rather friendly. They were an unusual sight for those who watched them from afar: an Unsullied, a former slave, a dwarf, and the prized heir of the Old Lion.
Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke to me, Tyrion thought to himself, wishing he had some wine to enjoy with the company.
The smiles on the lions, however, quickly disappeared as someone started to approach them. Trystan especially almost stood at attention, and his muscles stiffened as the Old Lion made his way towards them.
"Father," he greeted and lowered his head in respect for a moment before lifting it.
"Trystan," Tywin greeted him back but did not make any other move. He sent a passive look at the trio standing not so far away, and he was not happy with the company his son was keeping around.
"Have you seen your mother?" he finally asked, looking once again at his heir.
"No, not since the meeting," he answered honestly.
"Hmm," the old lion exclaimed, clearly not happy with the answer.
Visenya was supposed to be back already, but she was nowhere to be found. Neither Kevan nor Jaime seemed to have seen her return, although the latter was busier being around Lady Brienne than paying attention to his family.
Just then, the sound of dragons roaring drew their attention towards the sky. They could see two figures coming from the distance, growing in size by the second due to the speed they were travelling.
For a moment, everyone thought that the Dragons were just flying around or that Daenerys had chosen to go for a ride.
Yet, they were surprised when the details became clearer.
The two dragons flew separate ways, one to the left and one to the right, but kept going straight for Winterfell. A single flap of their wings was enough to make them go higher and soar at a distance considered safe, ensuring they would not crash into the castle.
However, only one of the two dragons seemed willing to fly higher. The other remained rather low, and that started to cause a small worry in the hearts of many who were watching.
Yet, as the green dragon approached, he flapped his wings a few times to gain altitude. His timing, though, was made in a way that the wings caused small currents of wind to hit the group standing at the tallest bridge.
Behind raised hands, they all watched with different expressions as the details of the rider became visible.
"Mother?!" Trystan exclaimed, being the first to lower his hands and even move closer to the wall to get a glimpse of Visenya flying on top of Rhaegal, with Daenerys on top of Drogon.
"First Jon and now my good-mother, I am starting to get jealous," Tyrion commented, but watched impressed all the same.
She carries that mark after all, he thought, watching as the two dragons met in the middle of the sky.
Drogon was the first to go up, but Rhaegal did a U-turn and headed the same way he had come from.
However, when he was closely flying above the castle, the green dragon blew a bright orange-yellow fireball ahead of himself. To the surprise of many, the dragon and his rider flew through the flames unharmed, offering quite a sight as they started to fly away and eventually rejoin Daenerys and Drogon.
Tywin was the only one who did not change his expression and seemed rather unaffected by the revelation. He had kept his eyes on the horizon where the dragons disappeared, narrowing them faintly as he was deep in thought.
Missandei and Grey Worm noticed, surprised by his coldness that seemed to match exactly what they had been told about him from Tyrion.
"You would think a husband would be happy to see his wife reconnecting with her roots," Grey Worm said in a low voice in High Valyrian, having turned his head faintly to be closer to her face.
While he was not familiar with marriages or relationships, he had started to come closer to Missandei. She had guided him and explained a few things to him, and some others came naturally to him. A few he was even taught by Daario during their games, and even Tyrion had thrown in his insights.
Missandei nodded her head, agreeing with him, but before she could comment as well, Tywin turned his attention towards them.
His head had turned halfway, his cold and sharp predatory gaze falling on the duo as he silently judged them.
"And you would think Essos would produce more mannered individuals," he suddenly said in High Valyrian.
The exposure made Tyrion stare at his father with his jaw open, having been caught totally off guard. Sure, a lot of highborn were taught High Valyrian when they were young, mostly to read and speak it, but many ignored it or had long forgotten it.
Yet, his father had just spoken the old language with ease.
Not long after that...
Visenya rode her mare side by side with Daenerys', both heading towards Winterfell while the two Dothraki guards were riding right behind them.
The two women were letting their horses walk normally to a slightly increased walking speed as they talked, smiled, and giggled. After riding the dragons and after Visenya chose to mess with her family, they both landed.
Then they proceeded to talk and catch up, whatever awkwardness and fear they had; was long gone by now. Visenya was experienced in life and seemed to have been through a lot, but so was the young Daenerys, who listened to her stories and kept her advice close to heart.
Currently, though, they were busier talking about their family.
Specifically, Visenya was letting her niece know more about her brother and her parents, even her grandparents whom she never got the chance to meet.
"...I assure you, it is very much true. Your father despised any lecture or lesson, and more than once had used his prince privileges to force the Maester to let us go early."
Her words made Daenerys chuckle.
"Viserys was rather similar. Our hosts tried to hire tutors for him, but he was never that interested."
"I think it is a male trait in our family. Your brother, Rhaegar..." She shook her head faintly in amusement, while a smile was on her rosy lips.
"The times I had to search the Red Keep to find him and persuade him to return to his lessons. Our Maester often told me that I was perhaps the only one truly interested in his lessons... more so than your mother."
Daenerys was not sure when it was the last time she had talked to someone like that. Ser Barristan had told her stories of her family, but none were that personal or detailed like hers. It made her enjoy it, for she could imagine all those scenarios and feel rather close to the people she had never met.
Even if they did not talk about family, they had this personal talk about subjects they both shared like men and their egos; something Daenerys did not have the chance to discuss often. Sure, she had her handmaidens when she was with the Dothraki and now she had Missandei, but there was something different about Visenya.
Perhaps it was the fact that they looked alike and they shared the same blood. Or the fact that everyone else had been her age and she never truly had the chance to bond and talk with an older woman, who could easily give a more motherly vibe; one that she needed many times across her young life.
Any fear she had before about their discussion was long gone as she came to understand how simple Visenya was. She was neither that strict or terrifying woman, nor the ruthless planner that killed anyone that stood in her way.
She was a mother, a woman who had lost a lot of people but had also grown wiser through the ages. She had a sweeter side, one that many did not always see or would simply not appreciate.
Daenerys could not help but wonder at the back of her mind, a different scenario where she had the chance to grow under the care of her aunt.
Even if her mother was not present, the scenario that there was a motherly figure in her life; one that cared and looked after her, was one she enjoyed daydreaming about.
At last, the two women rode their horses through the gates and squires were already waiting for them to take the reins and allow them to climb off. They did so with Visenya jumping off her horse in a less lady-like manner, but one she was rather used to all those years.
As their feet touched the ground, they both noticed their respective groups waiting for them; side by side, much to their surprise. They exchanged a look, sharing a smile while they walked towards them.
The first ones to step forward from the groups were Jaime and Trystan, both having childish expressions on their faces.
"Mother, you rode a dragon," Trystan pointed out, trying his best to keep his composure, but one could see the excitement in his golden-flecked green eyes.
"How is it?" Jaime asked next, also trying his best to be more composed but anticipating the answer.
Visenya could not help but offer a small smile, amused by their reaction. One glance at Daenerys and she could see she was feeling the same, although she was still a little bit on guard considering Jaime's past with her father.
"Well, it is far better than riding a horse. It cannot be compared to anything. I will tell you that," she said, repeating what her niece had told her and earning a smile from her.
"Good-mother, looks like you are a Targaryen now, more than ever," Tyrion commented, a side smirk evident on his lips; although most were covered by his growing beard.
Visenya kept her small but sweet smile, her eyes glowing with joy and happiness. Her gaze met that of Ser Barristan, who had this knowing look in his aged eyes. One would be a fool, though, not to notice the smile of pride on his thin lips.
Daenerys looked at Missandei and Grey Worm, the former translator giving a small nod of acknowledgement. All this time of Missandei talking to her, pressuring Daenerys to talk with her aunt; it seemed to have finally paid off.
She could see that the young Dragon was happier, a weight having been lifted off her shoulders, and she was not the only one. Visenya was different, having changed after bonding with her niece and being able to truly feel like the Targaryen she was born to be.
The good moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Many turned their heads towards the source of the sound, only to see Tywin standing three stairs above the main ground.
He had his hands behind his back, and not a single positive or happy emotion on his face. His eyes seemed to have been locked on Daenerys, although one would find it impossible to get a glimpse of his thoughts at that moment.
Yet, the Young Dragon started to feel slightly uneasy. It was evident that many did not like her, seeing her as a foreigner, but her good-uncle made it rather obvious, without even trying.
A subconscious reaction made Trystan and Jaime lower their heads in respect and avoid the sharp gaze of their father, something that did not go unnoticed by Daenerys or her group.
"Lady Wife, a word?" Tywin asked, although by the tone he used; the Lions knew it was far from being a question.
"I will see you all later," Visenya said, her small smile having shrunk.
She kept her chin up and walked towards her husband, her steps always elegant and never in a hurry. Once she was at the same step as he was, he brought one hand to place it behind her lower back, letting his fingers wrap around her waist; passing the message that she was to stay close and follow his lead.
She already knew that and she synced her steps with him, as he led her further up the stairs; eventually going inside the castle.
None said anything at that moment as they walked in silence, leaving the others exchanging silent looks with one another. Only when they were too far away and barely visible to them, did Daenerys look at the Lion siblings.
"Should we do something?" she asked, a small worry growing within her at the thought that the Old Lion would react negatively to his wife.
After all, the stories about him were far from good or presenting a rather kind image of him, in her mind.
They all shook their heads.
"No need, my lady," Trystan said, his eyes going to where his parents had disappeared. "She should be fine."
Yet, his words did not seem to help Daenerys with her worry. She did not, though, make any move but kept watching. A mental note was made in her mind, to eventually ask her aunt about this ruthless husband of hers.
Hallways of Winterfell - Winterfell - The North
Visenya walked with Tywin side by side, his hand not once moving away from her lower back or relaxing his grip on her waist. It was not the strong grip he had on her during the Purple Wedding, but it was enough to ensure she would remain by his side.
They spoke nothing at first, merely walking down the rather dimly lit hallways and occasionally passing a few servants, who were on their way to continue with their duties and chores.
"You seem to have had your fun," he said, being the first to speak and choose the topic of the discussion.
"I would much prefer to say that this meeting was more enjoyable than I expected," she corrected him, unaffected by the side-eye he gave her.
"I can see that. I do hope you have not forgotten who that girl is and what she will do to our family when this war is over."
She pressed her lips into a thin line and let out a sigh, her smile long gone.
"I did not, but this is why I approached her, among other things," she confessed, turning her head faintly to have a better view of him.
He did the same, clearly having piqued his interest.
"And what was your plan, then?" he asked.
His voice was normal, perhaps a little strict, but nothing harsh. There was no anger, no hatred, frustration, or even disappointment. Since they were outside, he was being more careful with what image he gave, but was also on his guard; because Daenerys was the biggest threat to his legacy at the moment.
Visenya, though, knew and understood that. She chose her words carefully, her tone slightly softer than his.
"To get to know her," she started, beginning to slow down her steps, making it evident that she wished to face him.
He quickly realized and withdrew his hand before taking a step forward. He then turned to fully face her, having found themselves in a rather quiet hallway.
"She is a girl, Tywin. A young, inexperienced girl that barely knows what she wants in life."
While the Dragoness seemed to empathize with her niece, seeing it differently through her motherly side, the Old Lion did not share the same feelings. He was on his guard, ready to protect his pride, and Daenerys was a threat; a very big one.
"A girl with two dragons and eyes on the Throne," he commented.
His wife fought the need to roll her eyes and succeeded. She grabbed his upper arm, bringing him one step closer.
"She is a girl that has spent all her life thinking that this was what she had to do... She..." Visenya thought for a moment. "She had been groomed to think that the Iron Throne is all that matters... but she trusts me, or at least she learns to trust me. Mayhap I can change her mindset."
Her words sounded quite naive and way too optimistic, considering the darkness of the world around them and the terrible things life constantly kept throwing at them. There was this glow in her amber eyes, a new kind of determination and goal that seemed to have settled in her mind.
Tywin felt the need to scoff, but he did not allow it, for while her words sounded ridiculous and far-fetched in his mind; he had long come to trust and respect her ideas, for she almost always made them work.
"You believe you can? And what if you don't?" he asked, wondering if perhaps this family reunion had made her temporarily short-sighted to the truth.
"If I don't, then we continue as planned. However, what if I do?" she asked. "What if I persuade her to return to Essos and forget the Throne? I can try and mayhap I can manage to stop a new war from taking place."
The Old Lion looked at his wife, clearly thinking through her plan. He could not see that scenario, but yet again, he was a man that had learnt to expect the worst from life to properly handle whatever would come his way.
He tilted his head faintly to the left, studying Visenya like he always did. He could feel the warmth of her touch even through his clothes and the solid grip on his upper arm, but not too much force to harm him; just enough to ensure she had his full attention on the subject.
He remained quiet for a while, wishing to see if the Dragoness would have any second thoughts on the subject that would resurface during this small silence.
She did not, though, and that only proved how much she truly believed in that plan.
In the end, he gave in.
"Very well," he said, making her lips pull back and form a small smile. "You are free to try, but do not put all your hopes that she will listen to you."
She released his upper arm.
"I do not, but I am willing to try, for us," she commented, looking at him with the same gentleness she always did; especially ever since the confession.
Even he could not keep his gaze cold when facing her, at least not for long. She had long bypassed pretty much all of his defences, making it impossible to even stay mad at her for long.
One could dare say he had grown soft around her. Of course, that very same someone would have their tongues pulled out by hot pincers if they dared to say it out loud, let alone in his face.
"Come now. There is news from the Capital," he said and moved to the side, offering his elbow for her to take.
She wrapped her arm around his, and the two of them started to walk towards their chambers.
"What do they say?"
"Amongst many things... the scorpions are ready and being kept in production... and Olenna has fallen ill," he explained, the last news making Visenya turn her head fully to look at him.
"How bad?" she asked, trying not to get too worried without hearing the full report and rushing to the wrong conclusions.
Tywin pressed his lips together.
"Light for now, although Qyburn has his doubts about her recovery," he confessed, keeping his gaze looking forward.
He was not particularly happy with the news either. Sure, Olenna was nothing but a thorn by his side, but she did a decent job in the Small Council. She was the only one Margaery and Mace truly listened to, and she was in full control of the Reach and the Tyrell army.
In addition, Olenna was supposed to handle things in King's Landing during their absence. It took Tywin a lot of mental effort to allow that, but in the end, he had no choice. Of course, if the Queen of Thorns were to fall ill, this meant instability in the Small Council.
However, he knew that he had to prioritize things first and deal with the biggest threat at the moment; the undead army that was almost outside their door.