𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟//𝐆𝐨𝐓

Chapter Thirty: You're Not Going To Serve. You're Going To Die

Tyrion, Varys, Missandi and Greyworm are gathered together in council, Missandi and Greyworm worried about the queen and princess. Tyrion pours himself a glass of wine. Varys tsks at him.

"If I lost my cock, I would drink all the time," Tyrion sighs. He looks over at Greywrom who narrowed his eyes at him. "Meaning no offense. He makes dwarf jokes, I make eunuch jokes," He looks at Varys who huffs at him.

"I do not make dwarf jokes," He states making Tyrion smile.

"You think them," Tyrion retorts earning a sigh from Varys who moves on from the coversation.

"So, the fleet. It's been burned," Varys says, looking away fro the vexing dwarf.

"We are searching for the men who burned the ships, but nobody saw anything," Greyworm replies.

"Surely there's some good news lurking somewhere," Tyrion asks.

"Astapor and Yunkai have stopped asking us for aid," Varys replies bluntly.

"Perhaps they can tell us their secret," Tyrion looks up at his freind.

"The Masters have retaken both cities. Outside of Meereen, the whole of Slaver's Bay has returned to the slavers," Varys sighs.

"What about the dragons? We have two of them here beneath the pyramid," Tyrion suggests.

"They are not eating. They haven't touched any food since Queen Daenerys and Princess Riva left," Missandi reports.

"Daenerys and Riva are the dragon queens. Can't very well let the dragons starve, that's obvious," Tyrion states.

"If a dragon does not want to eat, how do you force him to eat?" Greyworm asks while furrowing his brows.

"Dragons do not do well in captivity," Tyrion sips his wine and sits down while Missandi and Greyworm stare at him.

"How do you know this?" Missandi ask while folding her hands over her stomach.

"That's what I do. I drink and I know things," Tyrion finishes his glass of wine and walks over to the pitcher to pour himself another glass. "The dragons Aegon used to conquer Westeros ranged over hundreds of miles. Then Daenerys's ancestors started chaining them up in pens. A few generations later, the last dragons were no larger than cats. They must be unchained or they'll waste away. Missandei, how many times were you in the company of these dragons?" Tyrion asks.

"Many times,"

"And did they ever harm you?"

"Never,"

"Dragons are intelligent. More intelligent than men according to some maesters. They have affection for their friends and fury for their enemies. I am their friend,"

"Do they know that?" Varys asks.

"They will. It's time they had their supper,"

Tyrion and Varys enter the dragons' holding chamber bearing torches. Tyrion begins walking slowly down the steps. Varys remains at the top. When Tyrion reaches the floor, he pauses and stares into the darkness. Faint growling can be heard. He stops and looks back at Varys momentarily. Rhagal and Drogon emerge from the shadows. Drogon lights a fire in his mouth and roars at Tyrion. Rhagal approaches with a small roar.

"I'm friends with your mothers. I'm here to help. Don't eat the help," Tyrion chuckles nervously while Rhagal growls at him. Tyrion takes small steps, approaching the beast cautiously. "When I was a child an uncle asked what gift I wanted for my name day. I begged him for one of you. "It wouldn't even have to be a big dragon," I told him. "It could be little, like me."," Tyrion speaks to forget his nerves and sets down his torch and gets closer to Rhagal. "Everyone laughed like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard. Then my father told me the last dragon had died a century ago. I cried myself to sleep that night," Tyrion tilts his head and touches Rhagal on the neck. "But here you are," Tyrion takes hold of the piston keeping Rhagal's shackle closed and pulls it free. The shackle falls the ground. He turns around to see Drogon growling at him. Drogon exposes his neck to him, almost demanding him to free him along with his brother. Tyrion approaches and releases the piston from Drogon's shackle. Rhagal and Drogon return to the shadows. Tyrion picks up his torch and hurries up the steps. "Next time I have an idea like that, punch me in the face," Tyrion hisses and his walks back up.