CHAPTER 66 | A BLESSING AND A PUNISHMENT
WARNING: CHAPTER CROSSES OVER AND CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM MY OTHER GOT FICS, "SINNER" AND "HOWLING"
"DID Daenerys really burn the men who refused to bend the knee to her after the battle?"
Maia leaned on her elbows after asking her question. She sat alongside Varys and Tyrion in the Dragonstone throne room, watching as the dwarf sipped his wine. Maia, unfortunately, had only water in her glass. The two men on both sides sighed longingly, especially Tyrion, who had seen the aftermath of the battle firsthand.
Tyrion nodded at her question.
"I know Missandei has made clear that Daenerys has good intentions, but ..." Maia held up her hands. "I don't know. Guess I can't say anything because I wasn't there."
"She massacred anyone who didn't bend the knee," Varys explained, leaning in closer on the stairs they sat upon. "Most of the Lannister soldiers agreed once they saw Drogon, but the Tarlys refused."
Tyrion took a large sip of his wine. "All rulers demand their people bend the knee. That's why they're rulers."
"Is that what you say to make yourself sleep at night?" Maia cocked her head to the side and smirked.
The dwarf rolled his eyes, staring at the two with disbelief. "She gave Randyll Tarly a choice, a man who had taken up arms against her. What else could she do?"
Maia frowned. "Not burn them alive?"
"I am her Hand. Not her head." Tyrion excused. "I can't make her decisions for her."
Varys lifted his brow. "That's what I used to tell myself about her father. I found the traitors, but I wasn't the one burning them alive. I was only a purveyor of information." He ended up picking Tyrion's glass from the stair and drinking it, wincing the slightest bit. "That's what I told myself when I watched them beg for mercy. 'I'm not the one doing it.' And when the pitch of their screams rose higher, 'I'm not the one doing it.' When their hair caught fire and the smell of the burning flesh filled the throne room, 'I'm not the one doing it.'"
Maia was staring at the large Dragonstone throne, knowing that the Iron Throne was even larger. She looked back to Varys and sat up. "At least she isn't hiding packs of wildfire beneath King's Landing and threatening to blow it up. She seems to care for her people than most."
"Daenerys is not her father," Tyrion said, nodding his head with Maia.
"And she never will be," Varys continued, "with the right council. You need to find a way to make her listen."
Tyrion didn't reply. He only sipped at more wine in his cup.
Maia blinked, her mind reverting back to history books she once read. "Wait, I'm confused. Didn't the Tarlys fight alongside the Targaryens once? Why did they suddenly turn their backs on Daenerys?"
Varys nodded. "Yes, they did once. As did House Sanders, just because Lord Sanders' last daughter was married off the Daenerys' brother. Yet here you stand, an ally to the North. It's funny how people can switch sides."
"Me helping the Starks has nothing to do with the situation," she defended. "Besides, I'm not actually related to anyone in House Sanders. I just have the last name. All Travelers are given the last name of a Westerosi house, therefore I have no relation."
Varys' eyes shifted across the throne room. "Whatever you say."
"It's too bad none of us can do anything to help the situation that's going on." Tyrion said, swirling his wine around. "We all just sit around here. Idle. Waiting to hear back from someone."
"I'm sorry I can't be of that much help." Maia apologized with a frown. "I'm given a title and I barely know what I'm doing. All I know is what I read about in books."
"If we had more time, you would be of use. But alas," Varys sighed, "we do not."
She kicked her boots against the stairs, scuffing the shoe. "It was an idiotic plan anyways."
Before she could move away, Tyrion's small hand was on her own. Maia's eyes met his and she smiled at his gesture. "Sometimes, we must sacrifice ourselves for the things we love, Lady Maia," he said. "The next time you're in a dire situation, remember that."
•••
Freya hugged Jon Snow tighter than ever before. She couldn't believe it had been seven years since she saw the familiar bastard. He smelt the same. He was almost the same boy she remembered, but Freya knew something was different about him. Had he gotten taller? Was he happier? Questions riddled her mind, but all she could ask was, "How have you faired, Snow?"
"Could be better," Jon replied with a soft chuckle. Freya remembered the laugh well. "You must tell me if what these idiots were saying is true? You were married to Robb?"
They were standing on the top floor of Eastwatch, cladding each other in heavy furs for the trip ahead. Freya grabbed a large fur jacket, wrapping it around her small body. "All true," she said. "Granted the marriage was a plot created by Roose Bolton to trick us into betraying Walder Frey, but I ... I don't regret any of it."
"I thought you two hated each other."
Freya secured her sheath around her hips before staring at Jon. "We did, yes." She grabbed for his arm then, making sure he knew she was serious. "I tried to save him, Jon. I wanted to, but I couldn't. In my time of being a ward to your father, never would I have thought to miss Robb Stark. I loved him more than you know."
Jon clasped his furs around himself. "You don't need to blame yourself, Freya. None of us saw our future coming."
"I fought, and I lost." She smiled sadly, looking to her boots. "I lost not only my husband and my army, but my families too. The Greyjoys are probably all dead and they don't want me back."
Jon patted her shoulder. "Not all," he replied. "Theon and Yara live on. They're alive."
Freya's eyes went wide in shock. Tears pricked from the edges of them. She suddenly latched her arms around Jon again, reveling in this new information. She had never been so happy in her life to hear that her siblings weren't gone. All this time, she believed they were dead. She believed that she would never be able to make amends. She could now.
Freya agreed to this mission because she was tired of taking her revenge on Lannisters, Boltons, and Freys. She knew her husband would want it this way. He would've wanted her to use her skills for something good, to save their world. But now, Freya had something else to fight for, and that was to see her family once again.
•••
Laila was standing in his room again.
Jaime ran his hand over his face, still not believing Cersei's words from hours ago. Pregnant? How could she be pregnant? Well, he knew how, but he almost didn't want to believe it. They were in the middle of a war, and now he had to worry about an unborn child. When Jaime looked up, he didn't want to see her ghostly figure in his room, even if she was just a figure of his imagination.
"Congratulations," Laila breathed out, a smile plastered to her sheer face. "I wish you and your new baby well."
Jaime bit down on his lip, almost drawing blood. He began to pace his room and tried to keep his eyes on anything but Laila. "How can you be so okay with this? How can you be so okay with me?"
"I hold no grudges against you, Jaime Lannister." She replied fondly. "It's what you would've done for me."
Jaime shook his head, continuing to pace. He didn't even stop when Laila's ghostly hand grazed his own, for he couldn't feel her touch. He wished he still could, but he made a big mistake, and this was his punishment. "I'm always going to be with you, even when you can't see me." Laila said. "I will stand by you, no matter what you did or will do. We were not meant to be, neither was Tyland, but maybe this new child can be your new hope."
And when Jaime looked up into her eyes once more, he saw nothing. It was almost like she was there again, holding his hand. The ghost of Laila Ryswell haunting him would always be both a blessing and a punishment.