Game of Thrones: A Second Chance

Tyrion I

He supposed he deserved this. He was, after all, the one that named the Three Eyed Raven as King on that fateful day. A big mistake that was.

He took a deep breath, and his chains rattled as he shifted positions.

The black cells were no stranger to Tyrion, having been in them twice prior, but since Bran the Broken's reign began, they've become worse. Something he thought was impossible.

To Tyrion's right, lay a dead body that has been rotting for months, flesh hanging off its bones, the smell having caused him to empty the contents of his stomach numerous times. Another forgotten prisoner, he supposed. They probably died a few days after being sent here, of dehydration simply because Bran forgot to send people to feed them. And, since Bran was too busy warging into ravens, there was never time for a proper trial, if one could call it that. They could've been immediately found guilty and been sent to the executioners block, given a quick death. Not the drawn out suffering they experienced instead.

How did Tyrion get here, one might wonder? He was a fool. He should've known Bran would find out. The boy sees everything.

The letter he sent to Jon must have made it safely to him, and Jon must've went east to find his Queen. One day Bran went to check on him, and to his surprise soon followed by rage, Jon wasn't there anymore.

All the Three Eyed Raven had to do to find out what happened, was simply peek into the past and see what happened. He quickly discovered Tyrion's letter and it's contents, and ordered guards to take him to the cells for treason, effectively removing Tyrion from being his Hand.

Tyrion had been in these cells for a full day now. A full day of self pity and suffering. No one came to visit, he doubted many people knew where he went. The guards that had taken him were Crannogmen that swore to Bran instead of Queen Sansa, for they were followers of the Three Eyed Raven and magic.

He rubbed his wrists, sore from having the heavy metal cuffs around them for so long. He was chained to a metal pole, his mobility severely limited. Apparently Tyrion was known for escaping, and so there were extra precautions taken regarding him.

"It's just me and you, huh?" He spoke, taking a momentary glance at the rotting corpse. "Father would've loved to see this." His disowned dwarf of a son, locked up by the King he chose. Tywin would've laughed, something he rarely did. This was certainly a laughing matter. Tyrion laughed for him, probably sounding like a madman to the ears of anyone who heard.

It was while he was laughing, the metal door creaked open. Curious to see who was visiting, he turned.

"By the Gods, it's true," Davos, the lovely old man he was, gruffly stated. Why was the Master of Ships visiting him?

"Come to put me out of my misery? I don't want to end up like that guy," Tyrion gestured a nod towards his dead friend.

Davos looked at the body in distaste. "I'll send someone to retrieve his body. What did you do, Tyrion?"

"He didn't tell you?" Tyrion wasn't too surprised.

Davos shook his head. "All he said was that you committed treason, before he went back into his normal state. None of us could question him."

Tyrion chuckled. "Of course. Well, I think I should start by saying that Daenerys Stormborn lives. Most likely."

At this, Davos' eyes widened. Then he snorted. "Should've seen it coming. Drogon headed towards Volantis, that's where the Red Priestesses are from. And they seem to like bringing Targaryens back to life."

Tyrion quickly told him the rest, about his letter to Jon, and how he wished for Daenerys to come back and take what was hers.

"Have her come back? After she burned the city? Are you mad?" Davos asked, baffled.

"Our King is. Wouldn't you say?" Tyrion shot back. At this, Davos' eyes widened. "Oh, come on now. You know it, you're just afraid to voice it and end up like me. How would Daenerys be any worse?"

"Very well," Davos grumbled. "Perhaps it's time to get out of this city. Before Bran kills the both of us for even speaking of this."

"I'm right there with you. Except I can't," Tyrion said, looking pointedly at his chains.

Davos laughed. "You think these chains aren't as worn as the rest of this place?" He unsheathed his sword, and swung at the chains at Tyrion's wrists. They broke immediately, clanging to the ground, and Tyrion wondered if he could've pulled them apart all this time. So much for Bran being thorough with him.

"Did our king say anything else in my absence?" Tyrion questioned, as they hurried out of the black cells, his short legs working overtime. It was only a matter of time before Bran found out and sent people after them, with intent to kill most likely.

"He named off a few new traitors for the guards to collect, and said something about sending assassins," Davos explained, breath coming out in short bursts as his old body struggled to keep a brisk pace.

Tyrion felt his heart drop. "Assassins? Did he say where?"

Davos was silent for a few moments, and they made it outside, the light of the day hitting them. "East. To Meereen."

That's where Jon and Daenerys were. Tyrion took a deep breath, coming to terms with what he may have caused. He had to warn them.

"His Grace has sent assassins to kill Daenerys, and Jon as well."

A/N: yeah this was short but that's how we like POVs that aren't Jon/Dany. Short but impactful.