Hear me Roar - English version

CHAPTER 52 - You are in love with her

               After several days of travel – first on horseback to White Harbor, then by boat – we finally set foot on the sand of Dragonstone. An ancient stronghold of the Targaryens, it was conquered by Stannis Baratheon at the end of Robert's Rebellion, then abandoned again when he marched north.

               Davos, Jon's new Hand, knows the area well, as he was in Stannis's service until recently. He served him valiantly, claiming to be indebted to the Baratheon for lifting him out of his low station. He was on one of the ships heading toward King's Landing during the Battle of the Blackwater; he had more luck than his son.

               On the beach, several Dothraki surround a young woman of mixed race, as well as a dwarf with wavy hair and a thick beard. He has changed a lot since the last time we saw each other, but I imagine I have too. My hair is shorter, because I cut it after escaping Ramsay, feeling he had touched it too much. I have new scars, though none are as visible as his. I no longer wear the light gowns of the capital, especially not for this voyage at sea.

"The bastard of Winterfell."

"The imp of Casterly Rock."

               The two men shake hands. After his departure from Winterfell, Tyrion spent a few weeks at the Wall. He told me he had pissed from the top, but also that he had learned to appreciate my brother.

               His gaze finally settles on me. My heart beats so hard it threatens to burst from my chest, and I am certain my cheeks are on fire. I hate appearing weak, especially before men reputed to be as violent as the Dothraki. But even more, I reject the idea of reacting the same way I did when we first met, back when I was sixteen.

"Lord Lannister..."

"Lady Stark..."

               We look at each other, smiling, but neither of us takes a step forward. What are we supposed to do? Shake hands? That would be perfectly ridiculous. I can't take him in my arms either. Our reunion will wait for a more intimate moment.

"I am Tyrion Lannister," he introduces himself to our companion.

"Davos Seaworth," the latter replies, shaking his hand.

"Ah... The Onion Knight. We were on opposite sides during the Battle of the Blackwater."

"I would say 'alas for me'."

               Next, Tyrion introduces us to the young woman standing beside him: Missandei, the private advisor to his queen.

"Welcome to Dragonstone," she says. "Our queen knows it is a long journey. She appreciates the efforts you have consented to make to see her. If you permit it, I will take your swords."

               Jon, Davos, and I exchange worried looks. Missandei's sympathetic tone is mere etiquette, because the Dothraki make no attempt to show any. Not without regret, I give them my scabbard. The last time I was separated from Widow's Wail, it was because Roose Bolton had confiscated it from me. It didn't end very well.

"All of your weapons," Tyrion specifies, throwing me a disapproving look.

               Without blinking, I deposit into the Dothraki's hands the two daggers hidden in my boots. I hope this queen is the new messiah...

"We are aware of your abilities, Lady Stark," Missandei tells me. "It is obvious we cannot deprive you of your movements, but you will be..."

"I didn't come to kill your queen, Tyrion," I hiss as two soldiers, alarmed by my mannerisms, already approach me.