| Meereen |

"Tell me about your sister."

Tyrion faced his queen. She gazed upon her city from a sandstone balcony, ash white hair pinned into a perfect, twisted braid, sealed with a silver band. A long, dark gown hugged her curves, the ends of the skirt grazing the ground. It folded over her shoulders and appeared to be more of a robe than a dress, and The Queen herself seemed tired.

"Cersei is ruthless," he said, "she will not stop-"

"Not her, Tyrion," Daenerys interrupted. She tore her eyes away from the beige buildings below. Turning, she looked her Hand in the eyes. "Your other sister."

Tyrion swallowed, nodding. He gazed at the floor, eyes filled with sadness. Daenerys walked towards him and sat on the steps towards her throne, patting the space next to her softly. Obeying, he sat next to her and continued to gaze at the floor.

"Leonora was... a truely, decent person. All throughout her life, she always treated me with respect. It did not matter that we were only half-siblings. She didn't see me as a dwarf, or judge my siblings by their romance. She could even see what little good there was in Cersei." Tyrion said, chuckling.

Daenerys sensed the pain laced in his tone, cleverly disguised by his usual witty demeanour. It was rather out of character to see his rattled in such a way, and The Queen felt an ounce of pity as she nodded for him to continue.

"She was a more of a Lannister than my father at times." Tyrion said with pride. "Stubborn to almost a fault and overly proud, though kinder than most. I remember once, when she was merely a girl, when my father was experiencing a particularly difficult time and was on the brink of casting me out of Casterly Rock permanently. I came home drunk beyond my senses, yelling complete nonsense and unable to walk without help. But my sister carried me all the way through the castle and to my chambers, left a goblet of water at my bedside and the window open. We never spoke about that night."

A silence settled, the Hand lost in thought, gaze fixated on a divot in the wall. A beat passed before he continued.

"Leonora always seemed to be looking after me, and my other siblings, despite being the youngest. But I don't doubt her kindness towards everyone, towards the Starks, was what got her killed."

Daenerys nodded. Her heart sank at the clear adoration Tyrion felt towards his sister, and the ounce of guilt grew heavier. There had never been as strong a relationship between herself and her brother - or at the very least, not one that was normal. The sharp taste of envy caught her tongue, and Daenerys pursed her lips. It was not the first time she had longed to know Rhaegar or for Viserys to have been merciful. They were the dreams of a child.

"I have not heard of how she died." She stated plainly, hoping he would continue.

Tyrion walked towards a nearby table, avoiding the woman's gaze. He poured himself a goblet of wine, feeling the need for its numbing effects.

"It was a combined effort." He mumbled into his goblet bitterly, taking a swig. "You could probably blame the Greyjoys, who butchered and burned the Stark boys and Leonora at the gates of Winterfell. You could probably blame Robb Stark for breaking his vows and leaving her to rot in that miserable castle. Or maybe you could blame my father, who decided to send her off in the first place."

Daenerys nodded as he drank, drawing small circles on the stone with her finger. Her nail traced against the grain of the sand, the uneven surface rough against her fingers.

"When I take back the seven kingdoms, I will ensure you can exact justice for your sister." She said firmly.

Tyrion placed his empty goblet on the table, pouring himself some more wine.

"It's past that point now. Leonora is dead. Robb Stark is dead. My father is dead. All I ask is that you succeed in your rule by overthrowing Cersei." He said, downing the goblet in a single breath.

"That will be enough justice for me."