House of the Undying, Quarth - Essos
Daenerys had walked into the House of the Undying, not sure what to expect. However, with her babies taken from her, she was ready to face even the Stranger himself to get them back. Their cries led her through endless corridors that all looked the same, doors that led to more corridors or odd visions.
First, she had seen her loving but dead husband, Khal Drogo, with their unborn son. Afterwards, he saw a Targaryen man holding a baby and standing next to a beautiful sitting woman. She was not sure who they were, her mind too focused on getting out of there to think properly.
At last, she had a third vision, but that was something that both confused and terrified her.
She had found herself somewhere very North. All around her was nothing but falling snow, having already formed thick layers beneath and around her feet. She wrapped her hands around her exposed body, her clothing fit for the hot Eastern weather and could not protect her from the sudden cold, vision or not.
She looked around, trying to find a way out but could not. That was until someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards one specific side. Turning fast, she was ready to attack the stranger but froze upon seeing their face.
They had white hair like her but it was their eyes that were different. Instead of violet, they were a bright amber that seemed to have flecks of red inside, reminding Daenerys of the beautiful embers she saw whenever she looked into a flame.
"Danny, we have to go; now!" the woman said, her voice matching her aged face.
She was far older than her but not that old, perhaps the same age her mother would be if she was alive.
Something about the tone of her voice seemed to affect her and she found herself obeying. Hand in hand, they started to run through the empty snow plains. It was then that Daenerys noticed the woman's outfit, wearing full dark armour with the Targaryen dragon on the front and back of it.
"You need to keep running, do not stop," the woman urged her, feeling her slowing down.
"My children... I need to find my dragons," Danny eventually said as she kept trying.
The woman looked at her from above her shoulder, the winter wind pushing and tangling her white hair. "You will find them and eventually you will find me as well," she told her and somehow managed to lead her towards some dark familiar walls and a door.
Daenerys entered first and the door closed behind her before she could look, ask or even thank the mysterious woman. Somehow, she felt as if she knew her but she was currently stuck as to how or from where.
It all felt too real to be a vision, too... important to be an illusion. All the other ones were things she wanted, things to keep her there, but this one... it felt as if it was meant to warn her... of a trap.
The sound of her baby dragons shouting made her halt all of her thoughts, questions and worries. She could hear them much closer now and she realized this mysterious woman had led her directly to them. She would think about her and everything once she had her children back.
The feast continued but eventually it was dispersed, allowing many of the Lords and Ladies to retreat to their chambers or depart, since the ceremony to honour the brave and loyal ones was done.
Soon after, Visenya had separated herself from Tywin since small councils and other matters requested his presence. It allowed the Dragoness to settle formally but also to get some alone time. She could finally focus back on her own little 'spies' across the Narrow Sea, although she knew she had to be extra careful with them now.
She did not have the full privacy of Casterly Rock and there were many sneaky smiling snakes ready to bite her once she gave them the chance.
After she wrote her letters and sent them on their way, she decided to visit the only Lion she had not yet: Tyrion.
The dwarf had woken up from his injury, although a scar would be permanent across his face. Visenya had tried to visit him in his chambers but did not find him. Instead, she found an exotic and familiar woman that she remembered from their camp.
"My Lady," the woman said and bowed formally upon realizing who had entered the room.
She tried not to speak or raise suspicion since she was in a man's room all alone, but she was not dressed as a prostitute. In other words, she shouldn't truly be here, but Shae did not expect anyone else to visit Tyrion.
"I remember you, from the camp," the Dragoness pointed out, closing the door behind her for more privacy. "What is your name, girl?" she asked with the same strictness one would expect from the famous Dragon.
"Shae, my lady. I serve Lady Sansa as her handmaid."
"And yet she was not in the camp back then and currently you are not in her quarters," Visenya pointed out rather quickly, making Shae realize that she had messed up. Before she could try to find an excuse, she saw the older woman leaving with a sigh. "Where is Tyrion?" she asked next.
She suspected that the woman was of a certain 'occupation' since Tyrion did love surrounding himself with them. He never, though, brought them to his room but rather he chose to visit them in their special houses.
She never judged him, despite what Tywin might say and believe. She understood he had needs, he had a coin and he needed someone to look after him for a night the way no unpaid woman would ever do.
Yet, it was clear that this woman was not one of the usual ones. Then she remembered what Tywin had told Tyrion before he left the camp, 'Under no circumstances will you take that whore with you to court.'
Connecting the dots, she felt amused by the fact that Tyrion had once again gone against the orders of his father. There was, though, a small uneasiness because he had connected himself to such a woman for the second time.
"He has gone drinking with Bronn and Podrick, my lady," Shae said, making her arch a single eyebrow.
She knew who Bronn was, remembering him from the camp and was not truly surprised that he was with him. She suspected that he had forced him to join him for drinking. Now this Podrick, she did not know him but she would learn about him very soon.
"And where did they go?" she asked her.
Visenya chose not to change clothing for now and instead threw a black cloak above her dress. With two Lannister guards in normal clothing following her, they rode their horses out of the Red Keep and into King's Landing.
It did not take long for them to arrive at a tavern, the place filled with Lannister soldiers who came to celebrate by drinking and paying prostitutes to sleep with them. Visenya was aware of such a place but was not one to truly step into it due to high status and all.
Climbing off her horse, she ensured her hood remained up, her white hair hidden as her escort wore none of the Lannister armour. If news were to spread of her being seen in such places, it would be disastrous and Tywin would make sure to remind her what happens when she threatens his plans.
Controlling herself and not letting that memory from the tent resurface, she ordered the two guards to remain by the horses and entered. A few steps in, she was immediately greeted by a naked woman, who tried to place her hands on her body and flirt with her in an attempt to get her to bed and earn money.
It was not uncommon that sometimes women were after the comfort of other women; many ladies unlucky enough not to have a husband capable of pleasing them did turn to such helpers, among other things.
Visenya was quick, one hand grabbing the wrist of the young woman without harming her and the other holding a golden coin between her first two fingers. "Not today, honey. Take it and move on to the next one," she told the woman.
The prostitute understood and respected her, especially since she was paid without truly doing anything. She gave Visenya a wink and moved on, allowing her to walk deeper into the tavern.
By the time she reached the main room, she could hear the soldiers singing. Usually they would sing Rains of Castamere, but this time they were singing something else: Lord Renly's Ride.
"From his throne of bones the Lord of Death looked down on the murdered lord..." they sang, an odd choir that did not appease but neither seemed to annoy anyone hearing it.
It was average, many men out of pitch or getting too occupied by the women on their laps to truly continue. She entered the room close to the end of the song and many soldiers took notice of her.
Considering she was amongst Lannister soldiers and that she had been discovered, she chose to lower her hood and fully show her face. More men cheered, some too drunk to try and be fully respectful, but around her many times they were not.
Tywin was always the one who intimidated them and was strict with them, but his wife... she was someone who allowed them to truly celebrate, who did not intimidate and respected them for their job.
"Lady Lannister!" one man said and stood up, many following suit, at least those not drunk enough to be unable to.
"Do not let me stop you from your celebrations, please continue," she said, her eyes scanning across the tables until she spotted a group of familiar faces at a table at the far end of the room.
As she was about to walk, another soldier who was still standing grabbed his goblet. "To our Lady! The True Ghost of Renly Baratheon!" he said, lifting his goblet in the air.
Many men followed suit. "To our Lady!" they said in unison and cheered before drinking.
Then the festivities continued as women took off their clothes in front of them, accepting their silver and gold while more wine was passed around. The song started all over again and Visenya did not hide the faint amused smile on her lips at the craziness of the men around her.
She passed by them, her steps elegant and confident, her clothes and posture making her stand out against the lower-class crowd around her. Her amber eyes were locked on a table where Bronn, Tyrion, Trystan and a young squire were seated.
By the time she was close by, Trystan took full notice of her and was quick to stand up.
"Mother," he greeted, not sure what she would say finding him in such a place.
Before he could truly stand up or offer his seat, she placed one hand on his shoulder and pushed him back to his place.
"Seat," she ordered him, and he obeyed silently as she took an unoccupied chair and sat next to them. "Gentlemen."
"Good-Mother," Tyrion greeted in a sour mood, the scar across his face still fresh and irritating him.
"Lady Lannister," Bronn greeted as well.
The only one that she did not know was the young squire next to Trystan, who was fidgeting with his hands as he was still standing.
"What is your name, boy?" she asked, looking up at him and guessing he was no older than four-and-ten.
"I am Podrick... Podrick Payne, my Lady... Lady Lannister... I... I am a squire for Lord Tyrion..." he said, trying his hardest not to blush under her presence and also not mess with his words.
"You are the cousin of Ser Ilyn," she pointed out, a small smile on her face. "Another Payne for another Lannister Lord," she commented. "Sit down, Podrick; I am not here to interrogate any of you."
Just then, a goblet filled with wine was placed in front of her. A quick look around, she saw some of the Lannister generals lifting their goblets as a salute to her. She copied their actions and took a sip of wine as she focused on the men at the table.
"I see you are as popular with your men as always. Father must be ecstatic to know you are surrounded by so many lovely men," Tyrion commented, swirling the red liquid in his own goblet.
Visenya sat with her back straight and turned her head to look at him.
"He doesn't know I am here and I shouldn't have to be if you were not absent from your chambers," she said, sounding more like a mother scolding her son. "You should be lucky it was me entering your chambers and not your father. Your companion was there."
Immediately, Tyrion panicked and looked at her with wide eyes.
"Good-Mother, I can explain, I—" he tried to say but was interrupted by her as she lifted one hand to stop him.
"Do not go there, Tyrion. I am not the one that gave the order and I am not one to snitch either," she reminded him and looked around, seeing the rest of the company watching them like hawks.
The dwarf leaned back on his chair and emptied his goblet in one go by tossing his head back.
"Of course not, how can I ever think the Dragoness of Casterly Rock would be anything but good-hearted."
Suddenly, Tyrion felt a kick on his short legs and he glared at the attacker, being none other than Trystan.
"Brother, I do believe this is enough. Mother is clearly here for you and you act like an—" he stopped himself and glanced at the only woman in the room, stopping himself from cursing.
His brother rolled his eyes. "Oh look, the Golden Boy is not even brave enough to cuss in front of his mother," he commented, earning a glare from the young Lion.
Bronn, sensing the tension building up, ordered a full jug of wine. "Do not pay him mind, my Lady. He has been sour ever since and I thought bringing him here to drink and forget."
She nodded, a small quick moment of appreciation and respect in her unique glowing eyes. She was glad to know that in the end, Tyrion did have people to look after him, even though it might not be the company a parent would expect their son to have around.
"Was the plan to bring both of my sons here?" she asked and took a sip, glancing at Trystan's untouched goblet.
"Mother I—""My lady—"
Both of them spoke at the same time, both interrupted one another and then stopped upon seeing the amused smile on her lips.
"Am I personally that intimidating or is it my title that unsettles you?" she asked them, clearly toying with them and they understood it too late.
She turned to Trystan. "I was expecting that Tyrion would eventually bring him along to his... certain habits. You are a grown man and I am not going to control you," she said, easing the tension suddenly held between the boy's shoulders. "However, your father will not approve. I advise you to avoid such topics when you two converse again."
Trystan leaned back on his chair and grabbed his goblet, clearly more relaxed. "Father would skin me alive if he ever found out," he said and took a sip, feeling the strong taste of the wine.
"Correction, he would skin me alive for corrupting you and most likely lock you in your room for at least a week," Tyrion commented, his mood ever so slightly changing as he drank more and more wine.
He did not choose to continue this conversation and instead focused on his mother. "Mother, you said you were looking for Tyrion? Is this why you are here?" he asked her.
She nodded. "I did wish to check upon him and his recovery," she explained and looked at the imp. "I can see it goes well if he is already here and drinking."
Tyrion tossed his head back and emptied his goblet again. "How kind of you, good-mother. I must admit, you came pretty fast to see me. I honestly thought I would see you mayhap in a week," was his sarcastic reply.
"I was busy, Tyrion, and I could not come to see you once you woke up. I was informed of it but I could not be present," she explained, a silent sigh leaving her lips as she took a deeper sip of the red wine.
"Of course, how can I forget? The celebration to honour father as the saviour of the city. How could my mighty father stroll around like a peacock without his trophy wife by his side?"
Despite the noise of men celebrating, goblets falling and crowd shifting, the group was silent and tense. Tyrion and Visenya were locked in a quiet heated eye contact since the imp had insulted her directly and did not truly care.
Trystan was looking between those two, partially annoyed by Tyrion choosing to direct his annoyance for the incident towards her but also worried that their mother could easily snap at any moment.
Bronn and Podrick exchanged a silent look, both unsure what to do and say to ensure no fight would take place. Before the sellsword could say something, she made the first move.
Her goblet was slammed on the table with enough force that the sound made a few men turn and ensure everything was okay. When they saw no threat, they continued celebrating as they changed the song to the Rains of Castamere.
The group looked at the shaking goblet, a noticeable crack having formed from the force of impact against the wooden table. Visenya narrowed her eyes as a warning and every man around the table felt uncomfortable, even Tyrion, who wondered how much he had fucked up.
"I will choose to not comment on your words, Tyrion, excusing it due to your latest injury and the sudden change of things." She said, making the rest of the men let out a sigh of relief. "However, I do advise you to choose carefully how to describe me in future situations or lose an ally you will not be able to gain back."
Tyrion said nothing and merely started to glare daggers at the wooden table in front of him, his goblet held in one hand in quite a grip.
"Hmmm," she exclaimed along with an audible sigh and stood up. "I will let you all celebrate our victory as long as you ensure to keep an eye on him," she said, glancing mostly at Bronn and Podrick.
The squire nodded his head a few times, still uncomfortable around her presence while Bronn leaned lazily on the chair, one ankle resting above his knee. "You do not have to worry, my lady. He is in good hands."
"Mother, let me escort you," Trystan said and stood up.
"Stay, enjoy it now that you can because things will change from tomorrow," she warned him and he did not have to be told anything else to know what she meant. With his father around, such moments of peace and letting loose would be only a memory. "I have to return either way, before your father gets suspicious. The Small Council meeting should end soon and he will be in a foul mood. I better not chase my luck either," she explained and placed her hand on his cheek, cupping it in a motherly fashion for a moment.
She graced him with a small smile and pulled her hand back. As she walked past Tyrion, she let her fingers rest on his shoulder for a moment and offered a small comforting squeeze before she continued walking.
"...But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear..." the soldiers singing the Rains of Castamere being the last thing she heard before she left the tavern.
Once Visenya had left, Tyrion tried to place both his hands on his face and let out a loud sigh of annoyance, only to hiss and stop halfway when he touched his fresh scar.
"Serves you right, for treating our mother that way," Trystan commented, now more relaxed and bolder with his drinking amount.
His brother was about to comment but he stopped him. "She came all the way here to talk and check upon you and you let all of your frustration for Father on her," he continued, guilt quickly forming in the pits of the dwarf's stomach.
"It's not... I..." he let out a groan of frustration, not sure what to even say or how to express what he felt.
His mind was a mess, having to deal with the demotion and the embarrassment, his new scar and Shae's offer to leave King's Landing for good. He had too many things and he could not prioritize them in his head, not at the moment.
Trystan, if he understood or sympathized with him, did not show it.
"Mother has been your ally for years. The least you could do is treat her with some joy to see her, after all she has done for you," he continued.
His brother scoffed as he remembered a haunting memory of his. It was in the barracks of Casterly Rock, he was only three-and-ten and... there was a young girl his age. The men forming a line, taking off their belts... the screams from the girl that was at their mercy and Visenya watching from the balcony before just walking back inside...
He emptied his glass once again, having lost count of which number he was on. "Please, she has been my ally where it suited her. Father had the last word as he always did and she never fought him."
The Half-Lion glared at him as he pressed his hands on the table and leaned forward.
"She risked a lot coming all the way here to find you and we both know it. No matter what, she deserved to get something good from her sacrifice for you."
Tyrion said nothing and instead filled his goblet. He knew that his brother was right and he did feel guilty for how he snapped at his good-mother when in the end, she had tried her best to help him in her own way and whenever she truly could.
However, he still felt she was not as innocent as others believed. Sometimes, he simply believed she could do more but chose the easy way not to cross their father.
He emptied his goblet again, finally feeling the wine hitting him and offering just this nice numbness from everything he thought and felt at the moment.
Realizing there was nothing more to say, Trystan fell back on his chair and passed a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving his lips as he felt the tension at the base of his neck.
Bronn, who had been watching all this time, chose to finally speak.
"This must be the first time I've ever seen the two of you fight. I never thought any of you truly had it in you," he joked, drinking from his goblet. "I do feel the two of you just need to spend time with a woman, forget your worries for the night."
"We do not fight, Bronn," Tyrion corrected him. "The topic of our mother is... a little touchy sometimes," he explained vaguely as he felt his body working with the wine, his frustration and anger slowly drowning in the sea of the alcoholic bloody red liquid he consumed often.
"It is not the topic of our mother specifically," Trystan commented. "It is the fact that she tries to be a good mother to her children but gets shoved back by them."
"Cersei never liked her, let us admit that. Jaime is simply an obedient puppy around her, yearning for her affection and I simply sometimes see that she is not the perfect woman I once thought of her to be."
The Half-Lion rolled his eyes. "You try to be married to our father and let's see how long you will survive," he said, making Tyrion bite his tongue and remain silent.
"I get it that your father is all terrifying, commanding and bad guy," Bronn started, his description and small mockery easing the tension that existed between the two siblings. "But I do not see your mother have any trouble handling him."
A small silent exchange took place between the two lions as their eyes met, debating who should tell and how much they should tell as well. In the end, it was Trystan who took the initiative.
"She can handle him, it's not that. It's just that Father sometimes can be..." he hesitated, not sure which words to use without insulting him.
Tyrion, who did not care that much about it, continued for him.
"Jealous... controlling... demanding... possessive... take your pick," he said, his lips hidden behind his goblet before he took a sip.
"Yeah... you can say that although sometimes those words are a little bit on the extreme," his younger brother commented.
"Rarely, you mean. If there is something that father loves to control more than his children, it is his wife and of course the men that can never be allowed around her."
Bronn opened his mouth to say something but stopped, thinking back to the few moments she had spent with both of them present. He had seen a certain tension coming from Tywin and certain suspicion when Tyrion brought all those men into the tent, but he excused that as simply a husband being jealous.
The way the two brothers spoke about it sounded extreme but then he remembered Tyrion's story about his first wife and what his father had done. Deciding that this was becoming too much, he ordered another wine jug for all of them.