23 - ||

"Is it finished?" 

It felt good to breathe in the fresh ocean breeze that blew across the Bell Singer's deck; the cool, salty air filled Ned's lungs and cleared the cobwebs out from his head. The sun was bright and it was even warm enough for Ned to shed his fur cloak. It almost made him feel comfortable and relaxed, but not quite.

"Yes," he nodded, holding out the rolled-up letter bound with twine. There was no sign of the official Stark seal and that was the point; this letter needed to be as innocuous as possible, just in case it fell into the wrong hands. "Are you sure it will be safe with your bird?"

Jon stroked the breast feathers of his bird with a smile, "Sweet Roll maybe bigger and flashier than a raven but he is stronger, smarter, and faster too. He won't let anything happen to it."

Ned eyed the giant red creature, who stared back with what he swore was a general disdain for his existence, but just handed over the letter, "I trust you."

"And I trust him," his son replied.

The Lord of Winterfell watched as Jon carefully wrapped the scroll of paper up in a protective oilcloth and tied it to the bird's leg. The young man smiled, smoothing the back of his fingers down the bird's neck affectionately. 

"You be careful, you hear? Fly high and fast," he asked the creature. "Get this letter to Winterfell as quick as you can and take the eyeballs out of anyone who tries to stop you."

The bird squawked, nipped at Jon's fingers, before spreading his massive wings and taking off into the air. Ned and Jon could only watch as Sweet Roll flew north, getting further and further away until he just vanished into a small red speck. It was a long time before either spoke, both keeping their eyes facing in the direction of the North.

'Fly fast, bird,'  Ned prayed. 'Get to Winterfell soon. Find Robb and Cat and Rickon and Theon safe and sound. Let the coming month not bring the disaster and death I keep seeing in my dreams. Let-'

"So, I've been thinking about something."

Startled out of his thoughts, Ned turned to face Jon, who was still staring out over the ocean with a blank face. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "About what?"

"Telling people the truth," was Jon's reply. "Telling them who I am, about who my mother and father are."

"I am your father," Ned snarled, anger and sorrow and horror all rushing red hot through his veins. " Not  that man ! I've raised you since you were a babe! I am your father and... and-"

"And my mother?" Jon shot back. "Who is she?"

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"Why would you ever even think that is a good idea?" Ned pleaded desperately. 

THAT secret getting out, that was his worst fear! It was the thing that kept him up so many nights. I was the thing that caused him to weather the innuendos, the probing questions, and the slights towards his character. It was what forced him to put up with Cat's anger and pain; unpleasant as that might have been, especially when directed towards Jon, at least the boy was alive. 

"Because I'm tired of living a lie," Jon admitted, soft and earnest. He turned to lean back against the taffrail, tilting his head back to catch the wind in his hair and the sun on his face. "For so long, most of what I am has been a lie. My name, my family, my identity... Jaehaerys Targaryen never got the chance to live, to exist at all. Yes, he isn't who I grew up to be but that doesn't change the fact that it is part of my identity. My identity is something that should have never been a lie in the first place! It is the one thing in this world that is intrinsically mine yet it was still denied to me."

He cast Ned a sympathetic look, "Robert Baratheon isn't here to divide your loyalty anymore, Uncle, and the Lannisters are going to be after my head regardless if I'm your son or not. I don't see the benefit of keeping quiet any longer."

But Ned could only shake his head, "No, you're wrong. Hatred for the Targaryens runs deep in the minds and hearts of many Houses in Westeros. There are plenty that would see you responsible for the sins of your forefathers and some of them may take it upon to seek vengeance for those sins. They could come for your head, Jon?"

"Let them come then, they won't be the first try," the young man shrugged, unconcerned. "And you may be right about Houses still hating the Targaryens, but I'm sure there are also those who are still loyal to them, and, let's face it, we'll need all the help we can get. If nothing else, hesitant House may decide they hate the Lannisters more than me."

"I still don't think it is a good idea," Ned said, shaking his head. Yes, there was sense to what Jon was saying, there were still pockets of Targaryen loyalty in Westeros, but those were few and far between. It would hardly be enough to support an army. "There are too many factors to consider, too many possible outcomes. It is safer to keep it a secret."

"Maybe, but it isn't your secret to keep any longer," Jon replied, voice calm in a way that told Ned his son had already made up his mind. "This is something I've decided to do and already asked Valerica to gather everyone on deck later today so I can do so. I'd like you to stand by me when I make the announcement, but I will be doing it regardless."

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"Fine," Ned sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. " I see there is no talking you out of it. Just... we should tell your sisters first, they deserve the chance to prepare themselves."

"Agreed. Arya isn't going to react well, we'll have to break it to her gently," Jon said with a nod. Then, after a moment, added, "I'm glad you agreed because I don't think we would have been able to hide it for long, even if we wanted to."

"What do you mean?"

"Welllll," Jon looked away and scratched the back of his neck, "I think there is something you should see."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Three sets of eyes stared up at Ned in unison before, all together, deciding they had better things to do than gawk at him.

The Lord of Winterfell blinked several times, pinched himself, and blinked again, still not quite comprehending what he was seeing. 

'Dragons haven't lived for, what, a century now? Or, at least, not in Westeros,' he added the second part after remembering what Jon had recently told him about the land of Tamriel. 'So how am I looking at three baby ones?'

"I found their eggs down in the Winterfell crypts, back behind a caved-in section. I think the heat from the hot springs kept them viable all this time," Jon explained, scooping the blue one up in his arms. "It looks like there was some truth to Mushrooms tales after all."

It took Ned a moment to realize what his son was referring to. "About Prince Jacaerys and Vermax?" he replied. "I've always dismissed it as nonsense, as do most. After all, how would a grown dragon even fit down there?"

That got a snort of amusement out of the younger man, but then Jon turned thoughtful, his mouth twisting in thought. Eventually, he spoke again, "Some Targaryens had dreams of the future. Perhaps something prompted Jacaerys to leave the eggs behind?" Then, after another quick pause, "Or some one ."

The thought caused Ned's stomach to give an uncomfortable flip. The idea that something, or someone, from the past could somehow peer through the veil of time to watch him or his children. Or even worse, could have been manipulating him through actions put in place long ago. 

'This was all too much for me!' Ned was a simple man, content that what he could see and touch in front of him was true. All of this talk of magic and mythical heroes and dragon... this was never supposed to be in the cards for him to deal with!

Then a thought dawned on him.

"Jon," he asked, turning to look at the young man, "do you- do you ever dream of the future?"

His son frowned and all Ned could do was remember the screaming nightmares that used to wake Jon up, the strange stories he used to tell of the silver people he saw in his sleep. Those stories had stopped by the time Jon was about nine and the nightmares a few years before; Ned had always assumed he'd simply grown out of them but, upon reflection, this was also roughly the same time Jon started to become withdrawn and quiet as the 'truth' about his status set in.

'Cat probably said something that got him to stop,' Ned thought bitterly. 'Gods, I should have done more. How different would our lives be if I handled things better?'

"I have many strange dreams," Jon finally said. "Try not to think of it too deep of it."

'That is not an answer.' Ned forced himself not to roll his eyes. 

Part of him wanted to force the issue but, by this point, understood good and well that Jon would not give away anything he didn't want to. So he decided against pushing and changed the topic. 

"I'll go gather your sisters. Perhaps you should... hide your new pets for now." he gestured to the dragons. "I'd rather Sansa and Arya didn't see them before we can explain the situation."

Then, after a nod of agreement from Jon, Ned left the cabin, already trying to sort out what he was about to say in his head. 

"So much for not being allowed out of my cabin," Sansa grumbled, her arms crossed "You can't even follow your own rules."

Ned pointedly ignored her childish fit, it would do no good to acknowledge her whining. Arya, however, had no such compulsion and loudly snorted, rolling her eyes in a way that Sansa could surely see. Ned lightly tapped her on the back of the head; it also wouldn't do any good to cause further distance between the girls. 

"Why do you need to talk to us?" Arya asked, a touch of annoyance in her voice. "I was helping Myr- Myra study."

'Myra? Who is- Nevermind, not the time to worry about that,'  Ned shoved those thoughts away as he opened the door to Jon's cabin, waving the two girls inside. "Jon and I want to speak of something with the both of you. You both must know, but the matter isn't something that can be discussed openly just yet, so-" 

"So we need to talk in private," Jon finished, opening his arms as Arya lunged forward to hug him. 

The sight of which caused Sansa to scowl deeper and turn away as Ned locked behind them. 

"Please, sit," he instructed, gesturing toward one of the beds. Arya plopped herself down immediately, swinging her feet and leaning Jon, who kept one arm wrapped around her shoulders and a hand rested on her head. Sansa, however, refused and stubbornly remained standing. 

"So what is going on?" Arya asked. "Did you hear anything from home, from Robb?"

"No," Ned shook his head, taking a seat in of the chairs Jon had pulled out for him, "nothing from there yet. This is about our family though. You see, all your lives you've been told that Jon isn't your mother's son -and that is true- but what you didn't know is that... is that-"

Ned sighed, burying his head in his hands and forcing back the panic rising in his throat. He never intended to have to tell this secret, it was supposed to go with him to his grave. If it was to ever be spoken at all, it would have been after Jon joined the Night's Watch and his theoretical claim to the throne would have been forfeit. 

'And yet, here I am,'  he thought grimly. 'Howland and Benjen were right. Avoiding this problem for so long has only made it hard to face now.'

A few deep breaths later, Ned dragged a hand down his face and forced himself to continue. "What you didn't know is that Jon is also not my son, he is my nephew."

Over the pounding of his own heart, Ned vaguely heard Sansa gasp and saw all the blood drain from Arya's face. Clutching her brother tight around his waist, she gulped and asked, "S- so Jon is Uncle Brandon's son?"

"No, he isn't Brandon's," Ned replied, almost wishing that was the case. Such a situation would certainly come with its own issues, it would be far preferable 

Now it was Sansa's turn to speak up. "So he is Uncle Benjen's son then?"

Again, the Lord of Winterfell shook his head. "No, Benjen would have never taken the Black if he had a child to support."

Of course, Benjen had never really wanted to take the Black in the first place and only did so because Ned had forced him. But he still knew that for certain; Ben loved children and would have been a fantastic father.

Maybe better than Ned had ever been.

"But if he isn't Uncle Brandon's and he isn't Uncle Benjen, then that means..." Sansa trailed off into silence as both she and Arya turned to stare at Jon, looking at his face as if they were seeing it for the first time. 

The cabin was quiet, no one speaking the thoughts in their heads. Ned couldn't bring himself to speak the words into existence -that would make them real. They would be real and he could never take them back. 

Jon soon cleared his throat though and straightened up, still maintaining his comforting hold on Arya. "I am your maternal cousin, the child of Lyanna Stark."

"Aunt Lyanna?" Arya choked out. "That means your father is-"

"Rhaegar Targaryen," Jon confirmed with a nod. Ned marveled at the fact his son sounded so calm and matter-of-fact, like Jon was just discussing the weather. "The two married in secret and ran away to Dorne together, where I would eventually be born."

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" WHAT THE HELL? " Arya screamed, looking back and forth between him and Jon like she was desperate for someone to start laughing and tell her it was a joke. 

Sansa said nothing, but she looked just as shocked. 

"I know this is... confusing ," Ned started, trying to reign in everyone's surging emotions, "but it goes without saying that this needs to remain a secret for now. We plan on telling others soon but only at the right time. Do you-"

"Does this mean you aren't really our brother?" Arya asked, sounding so much younger than her age as she clung to Jon desperately. 

Jon pulled Arya into a tight hug, rubbing the girl's back and nuzzling his cheek against the top of her head. "I will always be your brother, Little Sister. Blood, distance, titles, family names... nothing will ever change that. I could be halfway across the world and will still come running if you ever need me."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ned saw Sansa frown at the sight of Jon comforting Arya. He started to say something but she turned and cut him off, "Who else knows?"

Ned blinked, surprised by the question. "The only other people who know are my friend, Lord Howland Reed, and your Uncle Benjen."

"So Mother didn't know?"

"No, I never wanted to put that burden on her shoulders," Ned replied, who his stomach twisted when he saw Jon give a barely discernible flinch at being inadvertently called a 'burden.'

"So you're a liar," Sansa said, white-faced and wide-eyed. 

Ned frowned, "Yes, but-"

"You knew how much Jon being your bastard hurt Mother!" Sansa cut him off, her voice shooting up. "And you let her live with that hurt for years despite it not being true! She could have loved Jon as her own and Jon could have had a mother, but you lied! I can't believe you've been criticizing my decisions with all the... all the shit you've pulled!"

Arya leapt to her feet, jabbing her finger into Sansa's face. "Shut up, you stupid-"

Ned raised a hand to calm his younger daughter's rage, "Arya, relax. Sansa is right."

The littlest she-wolf pouted but shut her mouth and returned to Jon's side, who rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. Ned then turned back to the still-fuming Sansa. "You're right, I did hurt your mother and, as a consequence, hurt the rest of you as well. At first, I didn't tell Catelyn because I genuinely did not trust her; you must understand, we may have been married and had Robb at this point, but she was a stranger to me at that point. I did not love her yet and had no reason to trust her with such a dangerous secret."

"But you did come to love Mother though?" Arya questioned, surprisingly soft and quiet. 

"I did," Ned confirmed, a little smile growing on his face as a flood of good memories filled his mind. "It took time and effort, but after a few years, I came to love her dearly. And that was why I still didn't tell her. If the truth of Jon's parentage ever came out and Catelyn knew about it, she could have been held responsible for treason."

"You never even gave her a chance," Sansa said, fists clenched. "You never even gave her a chance to take that risk."

"You're right," Ned repeated. "I wanted to protect her. I wanted to protect you all. But even if those mistakes came from a place of love and concern, I still hurt my family deeply. So I promise that I will work to rectify the mistakes I have made."

"I didn't even know the truth until I was fourteen," Jon said, "and even then it was only because I overheard a conversation between Uncle Benjen and Unc- Father. It was the reason I-" shifted uncomfortably and avoided Ned's eyes "left... for better or worse. And that was only a partial truth, I didn't learn they were married until recently."

Then he cleared his throat, striding over to one of the large steamer trunks that lined the walls of the cabin and popping the lid open. "There is also one other that we should talk about."

Arya cocked her head to the side, "What do you- FUCK! "

Sansa shrieked in surprise when the three little dragons poked their heads out, looking around at the new figures in the room before the gray one -clearly the bravest of the bunch- hopped out of the trunk and made his way over to Jon. The tiny beast butted its head against Jon's shins, squawking for attention, and it wasn't long before his son picked the creature up, cuddling it to his chest and scratching it under the chin.

"Surprise!" Jon declared, giving an awkward little half-smile. 

"Oh, WOW! " Arya, having gotten over her shock, rushed over to Jon's side to examine the young dragon in his arms. "This is a... a dragon? I thought they were all gone! Where did you find them?"

"I hatched all three," Jon said. "I call this one Smokey; scratch his wing joint, he likes it. Watch your fingers though, his scales are rough."

Arya did so, causing the dragon to gurgle in delight. 

"You're not going to let Jon keep them, are you?"

Ned blinked at his eldest daughter, "What do you mean?"

Sansa looked over to Arya and Jon, wringing her hands nervously. 

"It is dangerous to allow these creatures to exist," she said, shaking her head. "Sure, they're small now but they'll get bigger! The Targaryens' dragons caused nothing but trouble for the Starks; Septa Mordane always said dragons were unholy monsters, that they're weapons of destruction and death. We should get rid of them."

"Oh, come off it," Arya rolled her eyes, giggling as Smokey's licked at her fingers. "You're just pissy-

"Arya!"

"-because you're realizing you'll never be queen and aren't nearly as special or important as you always thought you were."

"Oh, shut up you stupid little brat!" Sansa snarled back. "Once again, I'm the only one of us who is thinking of the good of our people! You just care about what makes you or him-" she pointed an accusatory finger at Jon, who cocked an eyebrow "-happy. You don't care about the rest of us or who Father and Jon's dirty little secret is going to bring trouble for us all."

Arya's cheeks flushed red and her face twisted in anger, "That's rich coming from the girl who nearly got us all killed because she was too moronic and selfish to realize that her precious Joffrey was a monster! He killed his own baby brother and would have seen Father's head on a pike but you'd have still married him if you got the chance, wouldn't have you? Would you have kissed him while he was still covered in our blood? I bet you'd have sold us out without hesitation if it meant you could have your crown!"

Sansa burst into tears. Barely containing her choked sobs, she turned to Ned and asked, "Why are you letting her talk to me that way?"

Every fatherly instinct inside Ned was urging him to comfort Sansa, to hold her close and dry her tears, but he steeled himself against that warmth. Perhaps Sansa would learn from cold in a way she'd never learned from warmth and affection. 

"As I said, Sansa, it is time that you learn the consequences of your actions," Ned told her gravely, "and that includes accepting that others will be angry with you. You should apologize to your sister, then maybe she'll apologize as well."

Arya snorted, clearly unimpressed by the idea, and Ned made a mental note to speak with her later. He understood her anger with Sansa, even agreed with it to a certain degree, but having his family divided when they were surely on the cusp of a dangerous thing. 

Sansa just shook her head, tears still streaming down her pretty face. "I just made a mistake," she sniffled. "It wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything wrong, it was just a mistake."

Ned just sighed but Arya scoffed, rolling her eyes and opening her mouth to speak again.

"Stop whining and-"

"Arya, enough!" Ned cut her off. "We need to be united. Fighting among ourselves wouldn't do us any good. Now, I know you're angry with each other but-"

"Shhhhh, do you guys hear that?" Jon asked, looking up towards the ceiling.

"Huh?" Arya blinked, following his eyes upward. "I don't hear anything?"

"I do," Ned confirmed after a moment, his ears just barely picking up the thumps, bangs, and bumps of people running around up on the ship's main deck. "It sounds like there is a commotion going on."

"Are we being attacked?' Sansa whimpered.

"No," Jon shook his head. "I doubt-"

BAM!

Everyone jumped at the sound of something slamming into the cabin door. 

"Jonny, we need you up on deck!" Vlast called. Then, after a moment, added, "And bring your uncle too; he might actually be useful for once."

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"That's Enzo for you," Jon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment when Ned cocked an eyebrow in his direction. "Always the kidder."

But then the younger man turned serious. "We should go. If Enzo is interrupting us then it is probably serious. Here, hold him."

Without another word, Jon dropped the tiny dragon into Arya's arms -causing the girl to let out a gasp of surprise as she struggled to maintain her hold on the squirming creature- and headed out the door. 

"You two wait here. Don't open the door for anyone but Jon or I," Ned instructed, already following Jon. Then he paused, watching the black and blue dragons as they rolled around on the cabin floor, wrestling. "And keep an eye on them please."

With that final request, the Lord of Winterfell rushed up to the main deck of the ship, passing Jon and Vlast on the way, where his jaw dropped at what he saw.

Tyrion IV

There were times that Tyrion was sure destiny hated him and his entire life was one long joke at his own expense. 

Now was one of those times.

"I demand to parley with the captain of this vessel," he said, hands raised above his head and eyes glued to the many sharp implements pointed in his direction. 

'Perhaps the boat actually did fully capsize and I drowned? If so, then I wonder which of the Seven Hells this is?' Tyrion asked himself, trying to find some humor in the situation. It was the only way to keep himself from turning on his heel and taking a running leap over the ship's railing into the waves below. 

Tyrion had talked himself out of many predicaments and, if words didn't work, his family's name or gold usually did. But now, staring down a crowd composed of sailors who had no reason to care about the Lannister name, the most important members of House Tyrells, and various retainers from other Houses his insane bitch of a sister had just tried to kill, he was fairly sure nothing he said or offered would do him any good.

That didn't mean Tyrion wouldn't try though. No, if he died here, the Imp had no intentions of going quietly. 

"We're not pirates," an olive-skinned man with dark hair replied. He was one of the red-suited sailors and, though he had his blade drawn, Tyrion noted that he -as well as the other sailors- showed far less overt hostility. 

"And you're not in any position to demand anything, Lannister," growled a rather large, hairy individual Tyrion recognized as one of Lord Stark's men. 

Looking around, hoping to catch a truly sympathetic eye, Tyrion let out a hesitant, "Well... then... I humbly request to speak with this vessel's captain."

"You may want to shut your mouth, little man. I don't think you're helping your case," Bronn suggested, currently in the process of calmly wringing out his wet tunic. 

The Stark man growled, "Why I outta-"

"Stand down!"

The crowd surrounding Tyrion and Bronn parted as an older woman with short gray hair and a serious face pushed her way through. While, at first glance, there was nothing particularly impressive about the woman, the Imp about how some of the sailors obeyed the order without hesitation... and how others -the ones Tyrion recognized as being Tyrell and Stark men- only did so begrudgingly, glaring at the woman. 

Staring the pair down, the woman lifted her chin and stated, "I am Adelaisa Vendicci, the captain of this vessel. State your identities and intentions."

"I know who he is!" came a shout from the crowd. "That little bastard is the Imp Of Casterly Rock, Ty-"

"Silence!" Captain Vendicci snapped, effectively quieting the shocked man. "I will hear it from their own lips."

Despite a vicious glare and nasty snarl, the man backed down -though he was clearly unhappy about it. Another man in Tyrell colors pulled him away from the front of the crowd, probably fearing another outburst. After watching him go, Vendicci turned back to Tyrion. "Alright, let's have it."

Well, at the very least, it didn't seem like the Captain and her sailors were inclined to immediately cut him down, the pure hatred radiating from all the others on deck made it apparent that they were in the minority.

'Come on, Tyrion. You've been hated your entire life; don't let it get to you know,'  the Imp swallowed hard and tried to give Captain Vendicci a pleasant smile. "My name is Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin and heir to Casterly Rock. And this is-"

He vaguely gestured in the direction of Bronn, who gave a nod of greeting. "Bronn. Son of no one important and sword for hire."

"I would like to offer you sincere thanks for the rescue," Tyrion continued, "and if there is any way I can repay the debt, I swear that I will."

"Why don't you go jump overboard and feed the sharks?"

Tyrion's stomach dropped when he looked over to see the form of Eddard Stark storming towards him. Usually, the man was wholly unimpressive to look at but, right now, while his dark hair blowing around his head in the sea wind with burning eyes and lips pulled into a snarl, the Imp could only see a fearsome wolf. 

'This must be what the ancient King of Winters looked like to her enemies,'  Tyrion shivered. 

"What is this man doing here?" Stark demanded, barely acknowledging the Imp aside from a brief look of disgust.

Captain Vendicci merely cocked an eyebrow. "The lookout spotted him and his man in a sinking vessel. It was too small for these waters and on the verge of capsizing. We saved them."

"Throw them both in the brig," Stark ordered. "I'll question them later myself."

"The Imp will be a useful hostage," the withered old form of Olenna Tyrell stated, eyeing Tyrion like she would a bug pinned in a display. "But why keep the other one alive?"

Out of the corner of Tyrion's eye, he saw Bronn's hand go to the back of his belt where he knew that the sellsword kept a small, hidden blade. Bronn wasn't the type to fight unwinnable battles, but, much like Tyrion, he also wasn't the type to die quietly.

"With all due respect, this isn't your ship to demand such things, Lady Olenna." 

Once again, the crowd parted, only this time it was to make way for Jon Whitewolf who, in turn, was flanked by the giant man who always seemed to follow him around like a protective shadow. 

"Watch how you speak, Bastard!" A Tyrell knight snapped, making to get into Jon's face... Only to immediately back down when he caught the giant's eye. 

Paying no mind to the irate knight, Jon came to stand between Lord Stark and Captain Vendicci. "Nor is it your's, Un- Father."

Then he turned to Tyrion. "I honestly didn't expect to see you again so soon, Lord Tyrion. And certainly not under these circumstances. I don't suppose there is anything you'd like to say."

Mind whirling, Tyrion nodded, "Only that I can help you all."

" You  help us? How?" asked a man who Tyrion recognized as Shireen Baratheon's guardian, Ser Davos Seaworth. He was standing beside the unnerving mother of Whitewolf's betrothed, who was watching the proceedings with barely contained amusement. To his surprise, after a moment, the small, shy frame of the little Lady of Dragonstone peaked out from beside him. 

He knew of the girl, of course, everyone at court did, but he'd never had a complete conversation with her. Every time Tyrion had attempted to speak to her when their paths crossed at the Red Keep, poor little Shireen had turned tail and ran away, doubtlessly believing that Tyrion was in fact a monster like in one of her storybooks. 

'Poor thing,'  Tyrion took a moment to think, before drawing himself up to his full minuscule height and preparing to give the speech of a lifetime. "I understand that I am probably the last person any of you fine folks-" he gestured to the glaring crowd "-would like to see-"

"Not even remotely close," Whitewolf snorted. "I have a very long list and you're not even midway up."

"...but, though you may not believe it, we are all actually on the same side," Tyrion finished. 

Several members of the crowd burst out into laughter. 

"Us, be on the same side with the Lannisters?" Mace Tyrell huffed, chest puffing out like an offended sparrow. "How preposterous! I would nev-"

"Oh, do hush, Mace," Lady Olenna shushed. "Speak quickly, Imp."

"Cersei tried to kill me too, we are all in the same boat here," Tyrion said.

"In more ways than one," Bronn remarked, pouring the water out of his boot.

'I appreciate a good pun as much as the next man, but now is not the time for that jap,'  the Imp thought, before continuing. "My father is dead, Cersei killed him, and that means I, technically speaking, am now the Lord of Casterly Rock and Head of House Lannister. I could be an invaluable ally to all of you."

A Stark man snorted, "Everyone knows your father never wanted you, Lannister! You were his heir in name only; what makes you think the rest of your family will let you lead?"

"My uncle, Kevan Lannister, is a practical man. He knows how damaging war could be for the Lannister House as well as all other Houses; he will see the logic in working together," Tyrion pushed. And, after a moment, added, "And, if he doesn't, then… I know the ins and outs of Casterly Rock better than anyone."

'If it comes to that,'  he mentally added. 

"And what would you want in return for your... help?" Stark growled. 

'Oh good, he is willing to negotiate. This is going in the right direction.'

"Well… I would like not to be killed immediately and without hesitation," Tyrion admitted. "Aside from that, I would like amnesty for Bronn here, my brother, and every member of my House under the age of fifteen, that includes my sister's children. Their mother may be a raging, murderous bitch but they are innocent in her machinations."

"You have a lot of gall to demand such things, Lannister!" young Loras Tyrell growled. "We don't need your help!"

"That is not for you to decide," Whitewolf cut in. "Of course, it isn't mine to decide alone either." 

The young man cleared his throat and turned to address the crowd, "I suggest we put this up to a vote. Tomorrow, members from each House present will convene to hear out a proposal for allyship from Tyrion Lannister, then discuss the situation with one another and put it up for a vote."

Stark was beaming at his son, looking every bit the proud father Tywin never was, but a Tyrell man bristled with anger. 

"Know your place, bastard!" he snarled, much to the ire of Stark, the giant, and the sailors present. 

"Jon's 'place' is as an honorary captain of the East Empire Trading Company and my personal friend," Captain Vendicci replied coldly, stepping in-between Whitewolf and the Tyrell knight. "And as such, he has far more authority on this ship than you do. In fact, you will all-" she looked around at the crowd "-due well to remember that you have only been granted safe passage on this vessel because of Jon's kindness and my loyalty to him. So make sure you thank him."

Then she turned to one of the other sailors. "Mecico, take these two to the Quartermaster and get them some clean, dry clothes then assign them to a room and post a guard outside. Have a hot meal sent to their room as well."

So he and Bronn would be allowed to stay and even protected, just not allowed to wander the ship. While not perfect, it was still a better outcome than Tyrion had been expecting. 

"Thank you," he said sincerely, nodding to the captain before looking to Jon with a small smile. "Both of you."

"While I second young Whitewolf's suggestion as to what should be done with the Imp, it occurs to me that there is still business left unfinished," Lady Olenna called out, effortlessly drawing the crowd's attention. "We were all asked to gather on deck to hear an important announcement from Lord Stark and his son, yet nothing has been announced. Would one of you care to explain?"

All eyes turned to father, who turned pale, and son, who turned paler Both gave twin awkward shifts until Stark loudly cleared his throat. "Yes, well… I-"

BAM! 

BAM!

"Get back here!"

BANG!

The door leading down into the sleeping cabins was flung open and a small, dark blur of a creature rushed out onto the deck, the younger Stark girl right behind. She leapt forward, pouncing down on the blur and catching it in her arms. 

"Gotcha!"

Almost immediately, a wave of alarmed whispers filled the crowd as everyone realized what the creature was.

Tyrion's stomach dropped and his heart nearly burst from his chest.

A dragon.

Whitewolf slapped his hand over his face. 

Next Chapter: As tempers in Westeros start simmering, the North has more to deal with than Robb may be able to handle. He has many voices to consider and not all of them wish to help. 

Notes:

I'm still not particularly happy with this chapter, especially since it took so long to get out. Tyrion's section alone was rewritten three times. He is one of my favorite characters but I find him really hard to write, which is one of the reasons he hasn't shown up much.

I definitely over used to *** pause. It is just that I can imagine conversations so well in my head that getting type out is a hassle. Hopefully it didn't annoy anyone too much.

See you soon guys! Oh and go check out some Jon-as-Dragonborn fics on this site and FFN, there some good talent and fun ideas being played with.