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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
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"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 136: The Lion in the Pyramid
The laboratory was stifling.
Tyrion Lannister wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, the heat from the alchemical burner doing little to improve his already sour mood.
The air was thick with the smell of nasty herbs, dragon's blood, and burnt hair. He had been standing over this particular batch for the better part of three hours, and his back ached from the effort.
"Ros," he called out, his voice carrying across the cluttered chamber. "The wine. Now."
"Should you be drinking while working?" The red-haired woman appeared from behind a stack of clay pots, a half-empty bottle of Dornish red in her hand. She poured him a cup with practiced efficiency, her lips twitching with amusement.
"But I have to say that you're getting better at this," she said, watching him work. "Almost looks like you know what you're doing."
Tyrion took a long drink, savoring the warmth that spread through his chest. "I have an excellent teacher. Or rather, I had one. The Prince's notes are... thorough, if somewhat incomprehensible at times."
He gestured to the workbench before him, where a row of small clay vials sat in careful formation. Each one contained a dark, viscous liquid that seemed to shimmer on its own. Dragon's blood. Daenerys's blood. And a dozen other ingredients that Tyrion had learned to measure with painstaking precision.
"The Unsullied have taken well to the potions," he continued, more to himself than to Ros. "They have become stronger, faster, more resilient. The Queen's army is becoming something... remarkable." He paused, his mismatched eyes narrowing at a particularly stubborn vial. "The supply, however, is the problem. We can only produce so many batches each week. The dragons are not eager to give up their blood, and the Queen can only give so much blood before it becomes dangerous."
Ros snorted. "You sound like a maester complaining about his studies."
Tyrion glanced at her, a wry smile crossing his face. "I have become a maester, in a sense. The Prince's alchemy is not so different from the Citadel's teachings. More practical, perhaps. More... dangerous." He picked up a vial and examined it in the candlelight. "Healing salves. Explosive flasks. Poisons that can kill a man in a hundred different ways. Oh, the things I have learned…"
<><>
The morning wore on, and Tyrion lost himself in the rhythm of his work. He measured and mixed, stirred and poured, his mind focused on the task before him. The dragon blood potion was the most demanding…it required a steady hand and an unwavering concentration. One mistake, and the entire batch would be ruined.
Ros attended to him throughout, fetching ingredients, cleaning his tools, and keeping the wine flowing. She had become a competent assistant over the past years, her sharp mind and steady nerves making her invaluable. But she had also become a companion of sorts, one of the few people in Meereen who treated Tyrion as a man rather than a curiosity or a threat.
"Tyrion," she said, breaking the comfortable silence. "When was the last time you lay with a woman?"
Tyrion paused, his hand hovering over the burner. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me." Ros's voice was matter-of-fact. "You've been here for weeks, buried in this laboratory, and now look how stressed you are. When was the last time you had a woman?"
Tyrion set down his tools and turned to face her, his mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement. "Is that an offer, my dear?"
Ros's lips curled into a smirk. "I am no longer a whore, my lord. I have not been for some time. The only man I have attended to in that way lately is the Prince, and only because I chose to." She shrugged. "But if you want a woman, there are brothels in Meereen. Quite good ones, I am told."
Tyrion sighed, taking a long drink of his wine. "I have no time for brothels. Between my duties here, attending court, advising the Queen, and monitoring the men who have taken the potion, I barely have time to get drunk."
Ros's smirk widened. "How things have changed. You almost look like a responsible lord now."
Tyrion chuckled, the sound bitter and hollow. "Perhaps my father would be proud of me now."
The words hung in the air, heavy with irony. Tywin Lannister, the great Lord of Casterly Rock, who had despised his dwarf son from the moment he was born. He had made Tyrion's life a living hell. The Lord of Casterly Rock would be shocked if he were to see him now.
Ros opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, a knock came at the door.
"Enter," Tyrion called, his voice sharp.
The door swung open to reveal an Unsullied guard, his face covered by a bronze mask. They could only see his eyes, but there was a tension in them that spoke of urgency.
"My lord," the guard said. "There is a matter requiring your immediate attention."
Tyrion sighed. "The Queen requires my counsel? Has the prince blown up another laboratory? The Dothraki are fighting again?"
The guard shook his head. "A man has arrived at the city gates. He claims to be your brother."
Tyrion's wine cup slipped from his fingers, shattering on the stone floor. He stared at the guard, his mind reeling.
"Impossible," he breathed. "My brother is in King's Landing. He is a member of the Kingsguard. He would not-"
"Nevertheless," the guard said, his tone unchanged. "The man insists he is Ser Jaime Lannister. He wishes to see you."
Tyrion's mind raced, a thousand thoughts and questions tumbling through his head. He glanced at Ros, whose face had gone pale beneath her freckles.
"Where is he?" Tyrion demanded. "Where is this man?"
"The guard post at the eastern gate," the Unsullied said. "He is being held there, as per standard procedure."
Tyrion was already moving, his short legs carrying him across the laboratory with surprising speed. "Ros, with me. I want a witness to whatever this is."
The guard post was a squat building of yellow brick, its walls thick and its windows narrow. Two Unsullied stood at the entrance, their spears crossed in a gesture of formality. They parted as Tyrion approached, their eyes fixed on the door ahead.
Tyrion pushed through the door and entered the chamber beyond.
The room was sparse, furnished with nothing more than a wooden table and two benches. A single window let in the pale afternoon light.
And on one of the benches, slumped and weary, sat a man in a dark cloak.
Tyrion's heart stopped.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, his face obscured by the shadow of his hood. His hands were clasped in his lap, and Tyrion could see the faint glint of golden hair falling from the cloak.
"Let me see your face," Tyrion demanded, his voice cold. "Impostor. How dare you pretend to be-"
The man looked up, and Tyrion froze.
Green eyes. Golden hair, tangled and dirty. A scarred face, weathered by years of battle and hardship. It was him. It was really him.
"Jaime?" Tyrion breathed, the name escaping his lips like a prayer. "No... this cannot be..."
The man's lips curled into a weak smile. "Tyrion."
Tyrion stared at his brother, his mind reeling. This made no sense.
Jaime should be in King's Landing, serving as a member of the Kingsguard. He should be with Cersei, protecting her, loving her. He should be anywhere but here, in this dusty city on the edge of the world.
"What... what happened to you?" Tyrion demanded, his voice trembling. "What are you doing here? Is it truly you?"
Jaime's smile faded, and his green eyes filled with something that might have been shame. "It is me, Tyrion. I swear it. I know it is hard to believe, but... I had to come here and find you."
Tyrion stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Why? What could possibly have driven you from King's Landing? From Cersei?"
Jaime closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were filled with pain. "Cersei has gone mad, Tyrion. Completely mad. She was never stable, but after Joffrey's visit... after he humiliated her, after he took Tommen and Myrcella and then returned them... something broke inside her."
Tyrion listened, his mind churning. He had heard rumors, of course.
Varys's spies had whispered of Cersei's growing paranoia, her obsession with destroying Joffrey, her increasingly reckless decisions. But he had not expected this.
Jamie gave him an explanation. A story of how he was forced to betray the woman he had loved and how it ended up with him being driven out of the capital.
He looked at Tyrion, his eyes desperate. "I came here to find you. To find a new life. To stop my sister before she destroys everything."
Tyrion was silent for a long moment, his mind racing. He wanted to believe his brother. He wanted to believe that Jaime had seen the truth, that he had turned against Cersei, that he was here to help.
But something felt wrong. The story was too convenient, too perfect.
And yet... this was his brother. His flesh and blood. The only Lannister who had ever shown him kindness.
Tyrion turned to the Unsullied. "Take my brother to the holding area in the main pyramid. Give him clean clothes. Give him food. Give him water. And do not let him out of your sight."
The Unsullied nodded, and Jaime was led away.
Tyrion watched him go, his heart heavy with doubt. He wanted to trust his brother. He needed to trust his brother.
But the Lion of Lannister had learned long ago that trust was a dangerous thing, and he needed to inform the Queen about this.
"She is not going to like it…" He could already guess what her reaction was going to be.
Daenerys Targaryen did not have a soft spot for Lannisters.
<><>
The throne room of the Great Pyramid was vast beyond measure, its marble floors polished to a mirror shine. Torches flickered along the walls, casting dancing shadows across the faces of the assembled court.
Daenerys Targaryen sat upon the dais, her silver hair gleaming in the firelight, her violet eyes cold and unreadable. She was dressed in simple but regal robes, and the crown of Meereen rested upon her brow.
Tyrion stood to her right, his hands clasped behind his back, his face carefully neutral. The rest of her small council had been assembled: Ser Jorah Mormont, Lord Commander of the Queensguard, his weathered face hard with suspicion.
Grey Worm, leader of the Unsullied, his expression as impassive as stone.
Lord Varys, the Spider, his dark eyes watching everything with quiet calculation.
Lady Lyssara, the Head Priestess of the Red Temple, wearing an expression of serenity.
And finally, Jalabhar Xho, the former captain of Joffrey's ship, now Master of Ships, his bronze skin gleaming in the light from the torch next to him.
The only notable absence was Joffrey himself. The Prince had not attended a council meeting in weeks, too absorbed in his experiments and his recovery. Tyrion suspected he was somewhere in the city, causing chaos with his unstable magic.
The doors swung open, and Jaime was led into the room.
He had been cleaned and dressed in simple but fine robes, his golden hair brushed and his face shaved. He walked with the bearing of a knight, his head held high, his green eyes fixed on the Queen before him.
But Tyrion could see the weariness in his brother's shoulders, the hint of desperation beneath his composure.
Daenerys studied him in silence, her cold eyes fixed on his face. "You are Ser Jaime Lannister," she said, her voice flat. "The Kingslayer."
Jaime's jaw tightened, but he did not flinch. "I am, Your Grace."
"You come to my city, to my court, and you ask for sanctuary," Daenerys continued. "You claim to have turned against your sister, against your family, against everything you have ever known." She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Why should I believe you?"
Tyrion stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Your Grace, if I may-"
"You may not." Daenerys raised a hand, cutting him off. "I want to hear the Kingslayer speak for himself."
Jaime met her gaze, his green eyes steady. "I have no reason to lie to you, Your Grace. My sister has gone mad. She has become a danger to herself and everyone around her. I tried to stop her, and she tried to have me killed for conspiring against the crown. I fled to survive before she..."
Daenerys's expression was unreadable. " Are you saying that you betrayed your sister and this one wanted to execute you?. And how did you leave King's Landing exactly?"
Jaime shook his head slowly. "My father helped me escape. He saw what Cersei was becoming, and he knew that if I stayed, I would die. He sent me away to save my life. When I was in Bravos…I heard the news about Daenerys Targaryen conquering the Slaver's Bay and ruling at Meereen. I also heard that my brother Tyrion was here, serving as her advisor, so I had to come and take my chances…I wanted to see my little brother."
"A convenient story," Varys murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "Very convenient."
Daenerys's eyes flicked to the Spider. "You have heard nothing of this, Lord Varys? Your little birds have whispered nothing of the Kingslayer's flight?"
Varys spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I have heard rumors of Cersei Lannister's growing instability. The Queen Regent has become... erratic. Her demands grow more extreme. Her paranoia deepens. But I have heard nothing of Ser Jaime's alleged treason, nor of his escape." His dark eyes fixed on Jaime. "One would think such news would spread like wildfire. The brother of the Queen, accused of treason and forced to flee? It would be the talk of every court in Westeros."
Jaime's jaw tightened. "Cersei would never admit that I conspired against her or that I escaped the capital. She would claim I was sent on a mission, or that I was dead. The truth would make her look weak, and she wants to avoid that at any cost."
Daenerys was silent for a long moment, her violet eyes fixed on Jaime's face.
Tyrion could feel the tension in the room, the weight of suspicion pressing down on his brother.
"Your Grace," Tyrion said, stepping forward once more. "I know my brother. I know what he has done, what he has been, what he has been accused of. But I also know that he would not come here to serve as a spy. He knows my loyalty to you. He knows what I have sacrificed to be here." He paused, his mismatched eyes meeting his brother's. "He would not try to destroy what I have built."
Jaime looked at him, and for a moment, Tyrion saw something flicker in his eyes. Gratitude? Sorrow? It was impossible to tell.
Daenerys studied them both for a long, tense moment. Then she leaned back in her throne.
"Ser Jaime Lannister," she said, her voice cool. "You will remain in Meereen for the time being. You will be given chambers in the pyramid, and you will be free to move about the city, but you will be under constant guard. You will not leave my sight without my permission. You will not speak to anyone outside this court without my knowledge. And you will have to prove your loyalty through your actions, not your words."
Jaime bowed his head. "I understand, Your Grace. Thank you."
"Do not thank me yet," Daenerys said, her voice cold. "The Lannisters have done great harm to my family. You are no exception. But you are Tyrion's brother, and he has earned my trust. For now, that is enough to give you once chance…just one. That's all you get. If I even get a whiff of betrayal from you…"
"I understand, Your Grace," Jamie bowed to her.
She rose from her throne, her robes billowing behind her. "This meeting is adjourned."
The council dispersed, leaving Tyrion alone with his brother. The Unsullied guards waited at the door, their eyes fixed on the Kingslayer.
Jaime turned to face him, his green eyes bright with unshed tears. "Thank you, Tyrion. For speaking for me."
Tyrion studied his brother, his heart heavy with doubt. He wanted to believe. He needed to believe.
"Stay close to me, Jaime," he said, his voice low. "Do not do anything to raise suspicion. Do not give them a reason to doubt you. And pray that the Queen's mercy holds."
Jaime nodded slowly. "I will. I promise."
Tyrion turned and walked away, his mind churning with questions. He wanted to trust his brother.
But the Lion of Lannister had learned long ago that trust was a dangerous thing.
And as he walked through the shadowed halls of the pyramid, he could not shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
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