Ursa Major | Tormund Giantsbane

Chapter 19

It had been the wrong thing to say.

No one dared to breathe while Queen Cersei let this information soak in.

"Then there is nothing left to discuss," said Cersei angrily, getting out of her chair. "The dead will come north first– enjoy dealing with them. We will deal with whatever is left of you."

Brienne tried to approach Jamie, perhaps thinking he could convince Cersei to change her mind. Daenerys was staring at Jon in disbelief, attempting to maintain her composure as Ser Davos muttered, "I wish you hadn't done that."

Jon sighed in acknowledgement. "I'm grateful for your loyalty," said Daenerys. "But my dragon died so that we could be here. If it's all for nothing, then he died for nothing."

"I know," said Jon, both guilty and resigned to keep his opinion the same. He looked at Thyrsa, who despite her fear, despite her worry, gave him a gentle nod because right now, what he needed was reassurance, not for a thousand people to tell him he'd made a terrible choice. Maybe it wasn't so terrible, maybe Jon could see something they couldn't.

Or maybe he'd ruined them.

"I'm pleased you bent the knee to our queen," said Tyrion. "I would have advised it, had you asked. But have you ever considered learning how to lie every now and then? Just a bit?"

Jon turned to him. "I'm not going to swear an oath I can't uphold. Talk about my father if you want, tell me that's the attitude that got him killed. But when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies. And lies won't help us in this fight."

"That is indeed a problem," acknowledged Tyrion. "The most immediate problem is that we're fucked."

"Why is the little man still talking?" muttered Tormund.

Thyrsa agreed with a slow nod. She could see the pain in Daenerys's eyes; she was glad that Jon submitted to her but at what cost? Now they might not survive the Great War. Cersei would still be Queen after that.

Ned Stark had died upholding oaths. Lyanna Stark, Robb, and Lady Catelyn had died because of broken ones. Maybe this was the time that something finally went right when someone chose to be honorable.

Or maybe it would go wrong anyway.

"Any ideas as to how we might change that state of affairs?" asked Ser Davos.

Tyrion nodded. "Only one. Everyone stays here, and I go and talk to my sister."

Thyrsa immediately knew this was a bad idea. Cersei hated Tyrion, why would she ever listen to him?

Daenerys was not in agreement. "I didn't come all this way to have my Hand murdered."

"I don't want Cersei to murder me either. I could have stayed in my cell and saved a great deal of trouble."

"I did this," said Jon. "I should go."

"She'll definitely murder you,' said Tyrion. "I go see my sister alone. Or we all go home and we're right back where we started."

Daenerys tucked her arms together, accepting this. "Jon," called Thyrsa. "A word?"

He stepped off to the side to speak with her and Tormund. "What is it?" he muttered as Ser Davos joined them.

"I just want to ask why," she whispered, ignoring Daenerys's burning glare. "Is it because of feelings? Because you're thinking of something that we're not? Don't... don't make the same mistake as Robb. Don't let your feelings cloud your judgment. I admire you, I always have, you know that. But there do come points where sometimes you have to set honor aside to get what you want and this may yet be one of those times. Jon... are you sure?"