GOT: The Great — Chapter 229 - I Lied — The Conversation

"Winter Is Coming," Sansa Stark said.

It was the motto of House Stark. It was also a simple fact: no one in the world understood the Others better than they did.

The Painted Table Chamber went quiet. A coal snapped in the brazier, and Melisandre's shadow shuddered against the stone wall.

"So taking King's Landing first is the better move." Drogo pulled the conversation back. "I'll burn the Others with wildfire."

"Which is exactly why we need to capture an Other to persuade my father to surrender." Tyrion Lannister finally spoke. "Otherwise my dear sister will have burned through every last drop of it. And to be clear — we need an Other. Not a wight."

He let the distinction sit.

"My father is a smart man. He knows Casterly Rock cannot hold against three dragons. In the days of the Valyrian dragonlords, it was one man to one dragon. You have three."

"He will not let House Lannister be destroyed on his watch. He will not let Casterly Rock fall under his rule. How would he face the Lannister ancestors if he did?"

Drogo held him in his gaze and turned the words over in his mind.

You cunning little dwarf. You went in circles, but you're still trying to bleed me in the North. Your mouth says surrender negotiations. Your abacus is counting on the northern cold and the Others beyond the Wall to do the culling for me.

"Then Tywin should surrender right now. Why wait to see an Other? You should know — I can slaughter them all before the wights ever march south."

"The wights were never the real threat to anyone down here. The real threat has always been me."

The corner of Tyrion's mouth twitched. Hard to say whether it was a smile or a wince.

Daenerys Targaryen said nothing. She had been listening the whole time.

"I won't go North." Drogo looked at Tyrion. "You will go back."

Tyrion's eyes narrowed.

"To King's Landing?"

"To King's Landing. To Casterly Rock. Wherever you like. Take your people to the Wall and bring back an Other. While you're gone, I won't attack King's Landing."

"You mean..."

"I'm giving you time." Drogo said. "Enough for a round trip to the Wall — plus catching an Other. For that entire stretch, King's Landing's safety is guaranteed."

Tyrion tilted his head, calculating fast.

The first part of his plan was dead. Getting Drogo to go North himself, gone. This horselord valued his dragons above everything and would not let them anywhere near the Wall, not even as a show of force for surrender negotiations.

But it wasn't a total loss. His original goal had been to win the best possible terms for House Lannister. The terms hadn't even been discussed yet, but at least he had bought time.

"Fine," he said. "I'll catch an Other."

"However." Drogo raised one finger. "There is a condition."

"Once you bring the Other to King's Landing, you get one week. Within that week, your father surrenders. House Lannister keeps the Wardenship of the West. The Stormlands go to Joffrey Baratheon. If there's no answer after one week, I storm the city."

Tyrion was quiet for a moment.

"All past offenses forgiven?"

"All past offenses forgiven."

Tyrion nodded, as if he'd known the answer already, but needed to hear it said aloud.

One week. That was what he needed to go back and work on his father.

Tywin Lannister would not surrender over a vague and distant threat. But if Tyrion could drag an Other in chains to the foot of the Iron Throne, Tywin would do the arithmetic. Without dragons, Westeros would be bled dry by the Others sooner or later.

"I accept," he said.

Drogo looked at Tyrion and gave a slight nod.

"One more thing," Tyrion said.

"Speak."

"Shae. Let her stay on Dragonstone."

Drogo raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to the Wall. I can't take her on the road." The businesslike edge had left Tyrion's voice entirely. "Let her stay here. Until I come back."

Drogo studied him for a moment. The dwarf had just been outmaneuvered at every turn across the negotiation table, and now he was standing here making a personal request.

"Granted," Drogo said.

Tyrion's expression eased, a little. Just a little.

"Also. Before I leave, I want to see Jaime."

Daenerys Targaryen's brow moved slightly. Jaime Lannister was their prisoner, held in the dungeons below Dragonstone. The Kingslayer. And the only brother Tyrion had.

Drogo considered it.

"Granted. But I will be present."

Tyrion didn't argue. He knew that was the floor.

Belwas led the way down. The stone steps were narrow and steep, torches spaced 10 paces apart along the walls.

Seawater had seeped through the cracks in the rock. The air was cold and wet, carrying the smell of salt and mold.

Tyrion followed behind Drogo, his short legs covering the steps quickly, nearly matching Drogo's pace.

An Unsullied pushed open the cell door. The hinges screamed, the sound bouncing through the stone corridor, echoing up through several levels before it died.

Jaime Lannister sat on the stone bed.

He had grown thin. His golden hair fell to his shoulders now, and a beard had come in. The polished gleam of the Kingslayer was long gone.

But his eyes were the same. Green, feline, carrying an arrogance that cared for nothing and no one.

He saw Tyrion and stood.

"Tyrion."

"Jaime."

Tyrion walked over and sat on the edge of the stone bed.

Drogo stayed at the doorway, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

He wasn't going to leave them alone. Jaime Lannister was one of the most valuable pieces on the board in this war.

"I have good news," Tyrion said.

"Good news is a rare thing in a Dragonstone dungeon." Jaime sat down beside him. "Let's hear it."

"I'm going to the Wall to capture an Other. When I return, Father will surrender."

Jaime's smile stopped.

"Father won't surrender."

"He will. Once I chain an Other beneath the walls of King's Landing." Tyrion's voice was low, but every word landed clean and hard. "The terms: House Lannister keeps the Wardenship of the West. Joffrey Baratheon becomes Lord of the Stormlands. I came here to tell you, I'm going to get you out."

Jaime said nothing.

"Not now. You stay here for now. Until I come back from the Wall. Until Father surrenders." Tyrion looked him in the eyes. "You won't be executed. You won't be sent to the Wall to take the black. You'll be Lord Jaime Lannister, governing the Westerlands with a lord's full title."

Jaime looked at him for a long time.

"You trust him?" He tilted his chin toward Drogo.

"Everyone says a Dothraki khal is as good as his word," Tyrion said. "And Khal Drogo has already given it."

Jaime leaned back against the stone wall. The torchlight shifted across his face, throwing the shadow of his beard against the stone. Then he smiled.

"A khal may be as good as his word. A dragonlord is another matter."

Tyrion reached out and took Jaime's one remaining hand.

"Wait for me."

Drogo leaned against the wall and watched. He said nothing. There was a faint smile at the corner of his mouth.

This dwarf, every scheme stripped bare and dismantled in the Painted Table Chamber not an hour ago, was now sitting in a dungeon cell making promises to Jaime Lannister.

The promises were genuine. Tyrion truly believed that once an Other stood at the gates of King's Landing, Tywin would surrender. He truly believed he could free Jaime. That House Lannister could go on ruling the Westerlands.

Drogo said nothing.

He knew one thing: Tywin Lannister would not be broken by the sight of a single Other.

But none of that mattered.

All is fair in war. Let King's Landing believe the little Imp has bought them breathing room. That is exactly when I'll move.

By the time Tyrion Lannister makes it back from the Wall, King's Landing will already be ash.

"Seen enough?" Drogo said. "Time to move, Giant."

➤ Next: Oathbreaker — Face to Face