February 3, 2019
Bran reveals new information.
INT. WINTERFELL GREAT HALL - DAY
They're coming back.
BRAN STARK is giving his latest debrief on what's going on outside of Winterfell. After the turmoil of the previous scene, his dispassion is jarring.
Jon, Dany, and Jaime are in attendance, along with TYRION LANNISTER, SANSA STARK, DAVOS SEAWORTH, GREY WORM, and MISSANDEI.
How many villagers did they save?
Thousands. But none north of the Lonely Hills.
Sansa and Jon look at each other. They share a moment of unspoken grief for all the Northern people they've failed to protect.
How long until the Night King's army reaches Winterfell?
Four or five days, perhaps.
Everyone absorbs that.
How are things coming with Rhaegal?
Jon is progressing very quickly.
Not quickly enough.
Keep trying, Jon. Even a small chance is worth it.
Jon nods glumly.
You should keep drilling with the archers, your grace. But don't overdo it. We don't want you all exhausted on the day of the battle.
If I fail with Rhaegal...
We can still use you at Winterfell. Rhaegal can help us defend the castle while her grace deals with the Night King and his dragon.
I can't control him, Jaime.
I don't think anyone ever really controls a dragon. You ask nicely and if the dragon likes you, maybe he'll do as you suggest.
It's not enough that he likes me. If it were, you may as well ride him yourself.
Wouldn't that be grand. Alas that I was born a Lannister.
You're not a Lannister.
Everyone looks at Bran.
...I beg your pardon?
Bran's voice is totally, inappropriately, disconcertingly matter-of-fact as he continues:
You're the Mad King's bastard. He raped your mother and threatened her into silence. Tywin always suspected, but never had proof. That's why he was always trying to have you killed.
Everyone stares at Bran in shock.
One-by-one, everyone turns to look at Tyrion.
Tyrion stares at Bran as his entire life narrative slowly and seismically upends itself.
Tyrion, I'm so sorry.
A beat of pain and vulnerability on Tyrion's face. Then:
(petulant, re: Jon)
Why does he get to ride the other dragon?
Jon, bless his heart, actually looks abashed.
I didn't know (you were--)
Joke, Jon Snow. Joke! Gods, you're impossible.
The tension in the room relaxes somewhat in the face of Tyrion's humor. Tyrion looks around the room, then thrusts his hand brusquely into the air.
Is anyone else a secret Targaryen? Hm? Come on out now. You're in abundant company.
Tyrion looks around the room.
Might I have a moment alone with my... family?
Another beat, then an awkward scraping and shuffling ensues as people start filtering out of the room.
Sansa moves behind Bran and takes hold of his wheeled chair. She looks at Jon, but he hasn't moved, and his eyes are on Tyrion, not her. He's staying for the Targ powwow, evidently.
Sansa wheels Bran out in his chair. Bran is either unaware or unconcerned that he had spoken inappropriately at all.
Jaime is last to leave. He shares a gaze with Tyrion, then departs. They'll talk later.
Now only Tyrion, Dany, and Jon remain in the hall.
I'm sorry about...
Bran should've told you in private.
(closing the door)
No, no, it's better this way. More efficient.
The door clicks shut. Tyrion turns toward the other two and spreads his arms wide.
Dany crosses the space between them, crouches down, and pulls Tyrion into a tight hug, startling him. He goes bug-eyed, and his whole body freezes. She laughs at his reaction.
Do I frighten you?
(awkward shoulder pats)
I'm just... you're being very
Can I not be familiar toward my family?
Tyrion boggles at that as Dany beams at him. He backs up a step and puts out one shaky hand to lean against the door frame. He stares at Dany, then at Jon. Jon gives Tyrion a sympathetic look, a sort of: "I feel you, bro."
Shall we sit?
They pull up chairs and sit facing each other, in a triangle. Tyrion squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. He points a hand at Dany.
So if the Mad King was my father, that makes you...
Tyrion points his other hand at Jon.
And you would be my... nephew? Cousin? Half-nephew?
I don't know that there is a special word for our relationship.
I need a drink.
Tyrion gets up and pours three goblets of wine, passing them out to the others as he pours. Then he sits back down and looks at them sardonically.
Well, here we are. The lion dragon, the wolf dragon, and the dragon dragon. Why didn't I get to be pretty too?
Tyrion raises his goblet high.
To the great Targaryen restoration, to us, and to our fucked-up families.
They all drink.