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Tyrion and Varys thought that Aeron had left and then just as suddenly
"You don't think I was going to leave like that, did you?"
The voice was calm. Smooth. Dangerous.
And it came from right behind them.
Tyrion's goblet exploded from his hand as he yelped and spun around, landing on his backside with a thud and flailing like a startled cat. Varys let out a rare gasp, stumbling back with wide eyes, his calm mask slipping as he instinctively reached for a dagger he didn't even carry.
Aeron Grim stood over them, shrouded in his dark, regal armor, eyes glowing faintly violet. Shadows still clung to his frame. His expression was somewhere between amused and annoyed.
"Seven hells!" Tyrion sputtered, brushing dust off his tunic. "Is sneaking up on people your hobby, or do you simply enjoy watching grown men wet themselves?"
"I expected the smell of piss," Aeron said dryly, "but not from you, Tyrion."
"I'm unpredictable," Tyrion said, trying to regain composure. "It's what makes me charming."
Varys, ever the spider, stepped forward with a cautious bow. "My lord… you gave us quite the fright."
"My apologies," Aeron said, not smiling. Then he reached out, placing a firm hand on each of their shoulders.
"Wait, wait—what are you.?" Tyrion began.
"Exchange," Aeron said simply.
The shadows around their feet swalowed them whole, and in a blink, the grim alley of Braavos vanished, or rather they did.
The world snapped back with a gust of cold sea air and the echo of waves crashing against black stone cliffs. The trio now stood atop the wind-swept causeway of Dragonstone, the sky above painted in crimson hues, the ancient castle rising behind them like a sleeping titan.
"Welcome to Dragonstone," Aeron said.
Tyrion's jaw dropped. "what, I mean how did you , how did we... so you can disappear and appear wherever you want.."
Varys, taking in the ominous silhouette of the castle and the dragons carved into the stone, merely whispered "You are making your base here… in Dragonstone," he murmured, voice quiet with something like awe or perhaps worry.
Aeron didn't look at him. His violet eyes were fixed on the horizon, where hundreds of sails billowed in the bay. Black ships, gray ships, ships of Valyrian design. A fleet had gathered disciplined, unified, and vast. The banners fluttered in the wind… and one of them made Tyrion's eyes narrow.
"Yes," Aeron said softly. "This is where it begins."
They followed his gaze toward the docks, where a great ship had just lowered its gangplank. A silver-haired figure in regal attire descended with the grace of a lioness, flanked by Unsullied and cloaked advisors. Above her ship, the red three-headed dragon of House Targaryen snapped in the wind.
"She is here," Aeron said, a hint of something reverent in his voice.
Tyrion's brow furrowed. "She?"
Varys's mouth thinned. Tyrion followed his gaze nd his eyes widened.
The banner.
The silver hair.
The impossible presence.
Both men spoke at once, stunned.
"Daenerys Targaryen."
Tyrion blinked several times, then slowly turned to Aeron. "Is she your ally?"
Aeron gave a faint smirk. "More like… my queen."
A beat of silence followed, and then Tyrion and Varys exchanged one of their infamous glances silent conversation flashing between them like lightning between storm clouds.
"That can mean many things…" Tyrion said carefully. "So what exactly do you mean by my queen?"
Aeron turned his head just enough for the glow of his eyes to catch the light. "I mean precisely the first thing that came to your clever little mind when I said it."
Tyrion blinked again. "Ah. Well. All right then…"
He picked up a stone from the ground, tossed it in the air once, and let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
"A powerful man who commands the very shadows." he said, "and now… a dragon queen as his consort."
He turned to Varys, who had said nothing his eyes still fixed on the silver-haired woman below.
"Westeros," Tyrion declared with a wry toast to no one in particular, "is utterly, thoroughly, and gloriously fucked."
Aeron, standing tall with his arms crossed, glanced over with a smirk.
"Don't be like that, golden dwarf. You make it sound like I've come to raze Westeros to the ground."
Tyrion raised a brow. "Well, considering you command an army of shadows, casually slaughter assassins, and appeared in a tavern by peeling yourself out of a bloody shadow… forgive me if I'm still a bit unclear about your intentions."
Aeron's eyes gleamed violet. "If I wanted utter destruction, Tyrion, I could make it happen. Right now. I don't even need Daenerys's armies. Or her dragons."
He smiled then, slowly, ominously.
"As a matter of fact…"
His gaze tilted upward.
Tyrion and Varys followed it then froze. Tyrion's hand trembled.
From the heavens descended a titan black as midnight, wings wider than the castle towers, eyes glowing with ancient fire. Its body was monstrous, more beast than dragon, and it moved with an unnatural grace as it circled overhead, its scream splitting the sky like a falling star.
Varys took a sharp breath, his face pale. "By the Seven…"
Tyrion's mouth was open,"By all the gods… that's not a dragon. That's a bloody nightmare."
With a thunderous crash, the beast landed beside Aeron, shaking the stones of Dragonstone itself. The heat from its breath alone made their skin prickle. Its claws were larger than carts, its maw big enough to swallow a dragon whole.
"That," Aeron said calmly, placing a hand on its snout, "is The Cannibal."
He looked over his shoulder, grin still on his lips.
"And he's more than enough… if I wanted to destroy."
Tyrion stared, wide-eyed, then turned to Varys and whispered, "Remember when I said he was a monster?"
Varys nodded slowly.
"I take it back," Tyrion said. "He's the bloody apocalypse in a man's skin."
Aeron strode confidently across the volcanic stone of Dragonstone's courtyard, the Cannibal looming behind like a silent omen, he turned back to Tyrion and Varys with a grin.
"Come," he said, violet eyes gleaming. "Let's go say our hellos."
Tyrion muttered under his breath, "Gods save us from enthusiastic introductions," while Varys simply pulled his hood tighter, sighing like a man being led to a very polite execution.
At the grand entrance to the keep, Daenerys Targaryen awaited them silver-haired, regal, draped in black and crimson. Her expression was unreadable as Aeron approached and extended his hand.
"It took you all a while to get here, Targaryen Lady." he said smoothly.
Dany took his hand with a faint smile. "Well, Aeron Grim… I thought you'd be welcoming us first , even though your dragon is surprisingly fast."
Aeron chuckled. "I had to do certain things rather than wait here idly. We'll discuss them inside."
He gestured back toward the duo hesitantly walking up the steps. "One of those things was… acquiring us some council."
Tyrion gave a small, theatrical bow, one hand on his chest. "Tyrion Lannister, former Hand of the King, lover of wine, and deeply confused about how I got here without being set on fire."
Varys gave a polite nod, his tone careful and composed. "Lord Varys, your Grace. Former Master of Whisperers. Still fond of peace… and survival of the realm."
Dany's eyes narrowed slightly. "I know who you are. The Spider… and the 'Lannister' dwarf."
Tyrion gave a wry grin. "That tone your grace.. sounded a bit too threatning.. I assure you, I'm no threat. just look at me, all I have is a golden tongue."
Varys cleared his throat delicately. "And I only serve the realm. I always have."
Daenerys arched a brow. "We'll see if that's still true."
Aeron just smirked and gestured toward the great hall.
"Come. We have plans to make. And a world to break...or save."
Daenerys didn't move as the great black wings of the Cannibal stirred the wind behind them, sending the banners of House Targaryen fluttering above Dragonstone's walls. Her eyes stayed fixed on Tyrion and Varys, sharp and discerning.
"Are you sure?, he is a Lannister after all." she said quietly, "can they be trusted?"
Aeron didn't hesitate. His voice was calm, certain, backed by something darker that hummed just beneath the surface.
"They're two of the finest minds the Seven Kingdoms have to offer," he said, glancing at the pair behind him. "When it comes to schemes, whispers, and pulling the strings behind thrones, few can match them."
He stepped closer, speaking low for Daenerys's ears alone.
"They've survived mad kings, civil wars, assassins, and worse. Not because they're strong... but because they're smart. And if we're going to outmaneuver the madness and schemes brewing in Westeros without burning it to the ground…" he looked toward the horizon, eyes flickering violet, "we'll need more than dragons and shadows. We'll need them."
Dany studied them for another moment, Tyrion, who stood with like he was auditioning for the role of court jester and Varys, calm as always, watching everything with spider-silk patience.
She nodded once. "Very well."
/-\
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