[ Tyrion clears his throat, still unused to using these for messages, especially with others from his own world. The camera is a little out of focus — no selfie master he — but the audio is clear enough. ]
I have a very small favor to ask of you.
[ In the sheepish tone that says it isn't going to be that small at all, and he knows it. ]
[ It's been A Week, and it wears itself not as fatigue but as a sort of knowingness present behind Daenerys' expression when she answers Tyrion's call.
And if she's wrong about her suspicions, then she has something to share too. ]
[ Varys and maybe even Baelish would no doubt come at this indirectly. He would display the pin prominently, remind Daenerys of his loyalty to her, if they approached her first at all. But while Tyrion loves games, he knows when to put them aside. ]
Please don't try to have my brother killed.
[ There it is, stark as anything. ]
He has arrived very recently, short a significant swathe of memory and his sword hand, so no doubt even Ser Jorah could best him if you wished it. So I am beseeching you — my Queen — do not wish it.
[ She places her device down so that she may see it and be seen by it in her turn as she uses her hands. One silver braid has already been let down, and now she works on the other with fine fingers.
His request is expected, and perhaps there's some weary humour to the fact that Tyrion does not even need to ask before he makes his guess. ]
When I have claimed my place on the Iron Throne, and Jaime Lannister, should he have survived, is brought before me, is this what you'll say to me?
Edited (ive turned into rockefeller) 2017-02-12 03:09 (UTC)
[ Tyrion grimaces. It's mostly to himself, as are all his expressions; his brain still doesn't see the camera as a pair of eyes, even with her own video feed right there, and thus his interactions are slightly muted compared to how they would be in person. ]
I am a man of many talents, but prophecy is not one of them. But no — no. Probably not.
[ It would depend on the circumstances, but he is still very angry at his brother. Andhe would not be unkind enough to spare Jaime and kill his beloved twin. No doubt they would have to go through Jaime to get to her at all; there would never be a trial. He sighs, trying not shake those thoughts off. ]
But this is not Westeros, and you have no throne. And even if you had the mandate to do as you pleased in this world, still I would ask.
[ There is a flash of warning in her green eyes, but she will not ever be Viserys; screaming for his subjects to obey him, feckless and delusional. No king, no queen, no dragon ever needs to go to such measures, if they are who they claim. And she is no fool. The only Iron Throne in this world is a strip club.
Be that as it may. ]
You know I've cause, regardless of mandate. My question then to you is whether you believe in that cause, and you speak against it out of love for your kin.
[ These are tricky waters to navigate — not politically, but emotionally. ]
If you want to know why I ask — it isn't simply familial loyalty. It feels like a second chance. Losing his hand changed him so much for the better, and perhaps without Cersei's influence he could truly become a good man. But I imagine someone will tell him I killed his son and his father soon enough, and then he'll be back to wanting me dead. Kinship does have its limits.
[ That was a lot of pontificating. ]
As your hand, however, my advice has nothing to do with Jaime at all, and is simply: if we bring the wars of Westeros and Essos to America they will not be looked kindly upon. You said it yourself, that we all share similarities here.
[ In her post, which he did apparently listen to. ]
[ The irony of her post's timing along with the news from Jorah does not escape her. She had listened, as she is wont to do sometimes, tugging free pins from her hair until it hangs in ripples waves past her shoulders.
Somehow, this intimacy doesn't touch formality, even as they negotiate the balance between the politics and the personal. ]
Ser Jorah will collect the Kingslayer and bring him to me, but only in the event that Lord Baelish does not comply with my command that he do so himself, for they have already become allied. Either way, I will have him before me, Tyrion. I would see for myself the sort of man he is.
[ Both as a killer of mad kings, and someone who continues to command her adviser's sympathy.
Equally, she would have him know the kind of woman she is. ]
We all share similarities, yes, but our unity will not be forged from pretending we've no history. Rest assured in this moment that I have asked for him whole, and not only his head.
Tyrion is the sort of man who finds compromises: his queen is not. He knows well that her preference towards politics tends to conquering and enforcement, ruling equally with love and fear. Unlike the tyrants he has known she is selfless, good, unswaveringly morally right—
And in that upright view she had found room for a twisted little dwarf from the family of her enemy, and an old Westerosi man who loved and betrayed her, and a eunuch, and a slave. She is kind to cripples, bastards and broken things. Despite everyone who has betrayed her, he believes she has room in her heart for leniency. She can stay her rage. ]
Thank you, my queen.
[ A touch relieved. ]
He freed me, you know. I said terrible things to him — I was angry. I still am. But he helped me to escape King's Landing rather than die there.
Without him, I would never have met you.
[ Which Tyrion considers something of a debt her owes to Jaime. And a Lannister ... well, everyone knows how that goes. ]
[ His thanks is acknowledged with the slightest of nods, her mind now turning towards the upcoming conversation with Baelish. A useful ally, whether Tyrion approves or not, but not if he chooses to play these games with the wrong kinds of Lannister.
What happens, happens.
Dany's look given through video transmission is a little wry, like attributing credit to the Kingslayer of any kind is one step too far. ]
No doubt he would be thrilled to know his part played, there.
[ She shakes her hair loose, finally, and then folds her hands together. ] But now we share something else in common. [ A new tension has settled in her. ] Your brother has arrived within the same moon as my own.
[ It's a stupid thing to say: yes, her brother. But he is struck with stupidity. Viserys Targaryen is dead. Was dead. It's not that Tyrion doesn't believe her so much as the shock of the dark magic of it is beyond any mild difficulties he's had with, say, democracy or globalization or he dozen dozen other things different here.
A dead man, alive.
The possibility of other dead men showing up to haunt him is enough to run a shiver down his spine — seven hells, what if Joffrey was brought here? What if — his father—
He's gone all pale, but Tyrion clears his throat, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. ]
Well. I admit I've never heard a good word spoken of him, but if you wish to keep peace with him it's not as though I can advise you otherwise without hypocrisy.
[ A rueful smile. He did just beg for his own brother's life, after all. Besides, maybe Viserys will be fun! Lord knows nobody else Daenerys spends time with is. ]
[ There is a touch of rue that she had not thought to share that particular mechanic of this new world with him. It was one that had plagued her thoughts before, but in a different light. What if Rhaegar came through the Porter? What if Drogo?
But she allows him to collect his thoughts. ]
My father was mad, [ she says. ] And my brother would have likewise shamed the Targaryen legacy if he ever reached the shores of Westeros. He has died once for his foolishness, but I do not believe death has changed him.
I would prefer that all anyone knew of him was the name Drogon's nest-kin bears. They would look at Viserion's golden scales and think only of glory and might, and not of the truth. Peace would be simple. [ She picks up the communicator again, maintaining a practiced distance. ] So few things are.
[ Unlike her detachment, Tyrion is paying close attention now. Her father and brother was mad. Tyrion believes his nephew and possibly his sister were too. Familial madness is no stranger to them. Perhaps Viserys' appearance is more like Cersei's would be than Jaime's is. ]
Then what shall you do? Every man and woman who arrives in this city is bestowed with gifts of the sort that, in Westeros, only a rare few possessed.
[ Herself being one of them, of course. ]
We may not have armies at our disposal but I still believe fighting amongst ourselves could turn... noticeable.
[ There'd been a contemplative distance in her eyes, but they refocus on her device, the image of Tyrion in her palm. How convenient that a queen may have her adviser carried about in her pocket. ]
If you met him, I know what he would be like. He would be cruel to you personally, and demand your death for the name you bear. The deaths of the Starks that have arrived. Of Jorah, who watched him die.
[ Her best guess, anyway. He'd been close to reasonable when they met, under Drogon's shadow, and this world is even stranger than their transient existence in the Free Cities, but she will never forget those final months, days, moments, and the persisting cruelty that existed even before. ]
But he is not a powerful man. I imagine he would sooner do himself injury than anyone else.
Let us hope Joffrey does not arrive. The two of them would likely get on like a house on fire. With all the property damage that entails.
[ He sighs, leans back in his seat and rubs his beard. ]
In the best case scenario he finds this world and your ... new status agreeable and finds something harmless to occupy himself. But we should plan for the worst, your grace.
I don't know, [ she says, with a sigh, ] perhaps they'd be so preoccupied with one another we'd hardly even notice their presence.
[ Wishful thinking, wryly said. ]
In this world, there are institutions and healers committed to the treatment of madness. It's called psychiatry. There's an imPort that specialises in such practices -- but he is an ally to Lord Baelish, and Jorah has issued his warnings already about his nature.
[ Dr Chilton didn't seem so terribly bad to her, anyway, if a little pompous -- but first impressions are often misleading. ]
Nor do I favour the idea of watching Viserys flounder in this world, if he doesn't master its ways. And his own.
[ A healer of the mind. Tyrion privately wonders if he couldn't do with a bit of that himself. Although his immediate concern he decided to voice aloud: ]
Could anyone from this world, or one like it, truly hope to help someone from ours? Your brother is a product of Westerosi history as much as his own blood.
[ The rebellion. Rhaegar's death. The Targaryen birthright. The unquestioned idea of a birthright at all, something this country lacks. ]
He will also make his own decisions about his purpose here, no doubt. As will my own brother. Without a Game and a throne it's much easier to make a new start of it.
[ Not Tyrion, though. His job is to be her advisor, even here. ]
Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either Dr Chilton is skillful enough to adapt his practices, or he's arrogant enough to assume our kind would adapt to his.
[ She couldn't say, based on her first impression, although she knows what Jorah would guess, and perhaps Baelish too. Terribly, she thinks that Chilton could at least keep Viserys contained, if nothing else.
This last part earns a subtle smile, a little grim. ]
My brother knows of his own death, and he has seen the years that have passed for me since then. One way or another, he'll come to know this world as the only one left to him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
video.
I have a very small favor to ask of you.
[ In the sheepish tone that says it isn't going to be that small at all, and he knows it. ]
video.
And if she's wrong about her suspicions, then she has something to share too. ]
Go on.
video.
Please don't try to have my brother killed.
[ There it is, stark as anything. ]
He has arrived very recently, short a significant swathe of memory and his sword hand, so no doubt even Ser Jorah could best him if you wished it. So I am beseeching you — my Queen — do not wish it.
video.
His request is expected, and perhaps there's some weary humour to the fact that Tyrion does not even need to ask before he makes his guess. ]
When I have claimed my place on the Iron Throne, and Jaime Lannister, should he have survived, is brought before me, is this what you'll say to me?
no subject
I am a man of many talents, but prophecy is not one of them. But no — no. Probably not.
[ It would depend on the circumstances, but he is still very angry at his brother. Andhe would not be unkind enough to spare Jaime and kill his beloved twin. No doubt they would have to go through Jaime to get to her at all; there would never be a trial. He sighs, trying not shake those thoughts off. ]
But this is not Westeros, and you have no throne. And even if you had the mandate to do as you pleased in this world, still I would ask.
no subject
Be that as it may. ]
You know I've cause, regardless of mandate. My question then to you is whether you believe in that cause, and you speak against it out of love for your kin.
Or do you advise me, now, as my Hand?
no subject
[ These are tricky waters to navigate — not politically, but emotionally. ]
If you want to know why I ask — it isn't simply familial loyalty. It feels like a second chance. Losing his hand changed him so much for the better, and perhaps without Cersei's influence he could truly become a good man. But I imagine someone will tell him I killed his son and his father soon enough, and then he'll be back to wanting me dead. Kinship does have its limits.
[ That was a lot of pontificating. ]
As your hand, however, my advice has nothing to do with Jaime at all, and is simply: if we bring the wars of Westeros and Essos to America they will not be looked kindly upon. You said it yourself, that we all share similarities here.
[ In her post, which he did apparently listen to. ]
no subject
Somehow, this intimacy doesn't touch formality, even as they negotiate the balance between the politics and the personal. ]
Ser Jorah will collect the Kingslayer and bring him to me, but only in the event that Lord Baelish does not comply with my command that he do so himself, for they have already become allied. Either way, I will have him before me, Tyrion. I would see for myself the sort of man he is.
[ Both as a killer of mad kings, and someone who continues to command her adviser's sympathy.
Equally, she would have him know the kind of woman she is. ]
We all share similarities, yes, but our unity will not be forged from pretending we've no history. Rest assured in this moment that I have asked for him whole, and not only his head.
no subject
Tyrion is the sort of man who finds compromises: his queen is not. He knows well that her preference towards politics tends to conquering and enforcement, ruling equally with love and fear. Unlike the tyrants he has known she is selfless, good, unswaveringly morally right—
And in that upright view she had found room for a twisted little dwarf from the family of her enemy, and an old Westerosi man who loved and betrayed her, and a eunuch, and a slave. She is kind to cripples, bastards and broken things. Despite everyone who has betrayed her, he believes she has room in her heart for leniency. She can stay her rage. ]
Thank you, my queen.
[ A touch relieved. ]
He freed me, you know. I said terrible things to him — I was angry. I still am. But he helped me to escape King's Landing rather than die there.
Without him, I would never have met you.
[ Which Tyrion considers something of a debt her owes to Jaime. And a Lannister ... well, everyone knows how that goes. ]
no subject
What happens, happens.
Dany's look given through video transmission is a little wry, like attributing credit to the Kingslayer of any kind is one step too far. ]
No doubt he would be thrilled to know his part played, there.
[ She shakes her hair loose, finally, and then folds her hands together. ] But now we share something else in common. [ A new tension has settled in her. ] Your brother has arrived within the same moon as my own.
Viserys is here.
no subject
[ It's a stupid thing to say: yes, her brother. But he is struck with stupidity. Viserys Targaryen is dead. Was dead. It's not that Tyrion doesn't believe her so much as the shock of the dark magic of it is beyond any mild difficulties he's had with, say, democracy or globalization or he dozen dozen other things different here.
A dead man, alive.
The possibility of other dead men showing up to haunt him is enough to run a shiver down his spine — seven hells, what if Joffrey was brought here? What if — his father—
He's gone all pale, but Tyrion clears his throat, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. ]
Well. I admit I've never heard a good word spoken of him, but if you wish to keep peace with him it's not as though I can advise you otherwise without hypocrisy.
[ A rueful smile. He did just beg for his own brother's life, after all. Besides, maybe Viserys will be fun! Lord knows nobody else Daenerys spends time with is. ]
no subject
But she allows him to collect his thoughts. ]
My father was mad, [ she says. ] And my brother would have likewise shamed the Targaryen legacy if he ever reached the shores of Westeros. He has died once for his foolishness, but I do not believe death has changed him.
I would prefer that all anyone knew of him was the name Drogon's nest-kin bears. They would look at Viserion's golden scales and think only of glory and might, and not of the truth. Peace would be simple. [ She picks up the communicator again, maintaining a practiced distance. ] So few things are.
no subject
Then what shall you do? Every man and woman who arrives in this city is bestowed with gifts of the sort that, in Westeros, only a rare few possessed.
[ Herself being one of them, of course. ]
We may not have armies at our disposal but I still believe fighting amongst ourselves could turn... noticeable.
no subject
[ There'd been a contemplative distance in her eyes, but they refocus on her device, the image of Tyrion in her palm. How convenient that a queen may have her adviser carried about in her pocket. ]
If you met him, I know what he would be like. He would be cruel to you personally, and demand your death for the name you bear. The deaths of the Starks that have arrived. Of Jorah, who watched him die.
[ Her best guess, anyway. He'd been close to reasonable when they met, under Drogon's shadow, and this world is even stranger than their transient existence in the Free Cities, but she will never forget those final months, days, moments, and the persisting cruelty that existed even before. ]
But he is not a powerful man. I imagine he would sooner do himself injury than anyone else.
no subject
[ He sighs, leans back in his seat and rubs his beard. ]
In the best case scenario he finds this world and your ... new status agreeable and finds something harmless to occupy himself. But we should plan for the worst, your grace.
no subject
[ Wishful thinking, wryly said. ]
In this world, there are institutions and healers committed to the treatment of madness. It's called psychiatry. There's an imPort that specialises in such practices -- but he is an ally to Lord Baelish, and Jorah has issued his warnings already about his nature.
[ Dr Chilton didn't seem so terribly bad to her, anyway, if a little pompous -- but first impressions are often misleading. ]
Nor do I favour the idea of watching Viserys flounder in this world, if he doesn't master its ways. And his own.
no subject
Could anyone from this world, or one like it, truly hope to help someone from ours? Your brother is a product of Westerosi history as much as his own blood.
[ The rebellion. Rhaegar's death. The Targaryen birthright. The unquestioned idea of a birthright at all, something this country lacks. ]
He will also make his own decisions about his purpose here, no doubt. As will my own brother. Without a Game and a throne it's much easier to make a new start of it.
[ Not Tyrion, though. His job is to be her advisor, even here. ]
no subject
[ She couldn't say, based on her first impression, although she knows what Jorah would guess, and perhaps Baelish too. Terribly, she thinks that Chilton could at least keep Viserys contained, if nothing else.
This last part earns a subtle smile, a little grim. ]
My brother knows of his own death, and he has seen the years that have passed for me since then. One way or another, he'll come to know this world as the only one left to him.