The Songs of Winter | Robb Stark

Chapter 23

Aida Stark

"Tyrion is missing."

It was a thought that hung over me like a storm cloud, threatening to break at any moment. If he were here, I could tell him, smugly and with no small amount of satisfaction, that I had told him so. But he wasn't. And the sting of his absence turned my smirk into a worried frown. He wasn't here for me to rub it in, nor to ease the growing tension that gnawed at me.

We had followed the plan. After an hour of at the tavern, we moved on to the place where we had agreed to meet—only to find it vacant. No sign of Tyrion. Of course, with him though, that wasn't always a cause for concern. He had a talent for getting lost in his cups or in conversation. But we hadn't time to spare, so we pressed on, our next stop the brothel.

But when we arrived, our hopes were dashed. Tyrion wasn't lounging in the arms of some bemused woman. He wasn't holding court with drink in hand. He was simply... gone. We asked the people working there if they had seen anything, and after several shrugs and vague gestures, one of the women finally admitted, "I may or may not have seen a dwarf being stolen."

"Stolen?" Varys had asked, raising one of his pale brows. The woman only shrugged again, a little too casually for my liking.

And that's what led us here—standing inside the Great Pyramid of Meereen, current home to Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen.

I glanced over at Varys, who seemed as composed as ever, but I couldn't shake my discomfort. "I feel like we should've looked for Tyrion longer," I muttered, my voice laced with unease. "I don't feel comfortable being here without him."

Varys didn't bother to turn his head, his gaze fixed on the towering large doors to the throne room before us. "Must I remind you, Lady Stark, that you are pregnant—very pregnant at that. I will handle the matter of finding Tyrion. You, on the other hand, need stability and somewhere safe. Somewhere where you and the child can rest."

His tone left little room for argument, but I couldn't let go of the anxiety tightening in my chest. "And if she doesn't like me?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop myself.

Varys gave a soft, dry chuckle, his eyes finally meeting mine. "Then I will figure something out. But for now," he gestured toward the massive door, "go. She's already expecting you."

I took a deep breath, my hand instinctively resting on the swell of my belly as Varys left. With a sigh I nodded to the two guards on either sides of the doors waiting for me to be ready to go in. The guards open the door slowly as my heart pounds Each beat felt like it brought me closer to something monumental, something that would change the course of everything.

The grand doors to the throne room opened with a low, echoing creak, revealing the Dragon Queen herself, Daenerys Targaryen. She sat upon a massive throne of polished stone, her silver-gold hair cascading over her shoulders like molten light. She radiated an aura of power and poise that was almost tangible, her piercing violet eyes watching my every step as I entered the chamber. Beside her stood two figures—one, a l woman with skin close to mine, her expression sharp and unreadable; the other, a man with brooding eyes and a hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry, as I made my way toward the throne. The vast hall was eerily silent, save for the echo of my boots on the polished floor. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of the significance of this moment. I was standing before the Mother of Dragons, a queen who could turn the tides of any war with a single command. And I was asking for her protection.

As I approached, it wasn't Daenerys who spoke first, but the woman beside her, her voice clear and commanding. "You stand before Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, and the Breaker of Chains."