Loss
A possible glimpse inside the heart and mind of Tryion Lannister after the devastating events of 8.05.
Well, it's almost time for the series finale. I'm sad the series is coming to an end. These characters and their world is so very special and it'll be strange not to live in it with them on screen anymore. I didn't expect to write another GoT story after Fate & Love, but all week I've been thinking about Tyrion and all he lost in 8.05 and from that came this one shot. I hope you like it and if you have time to leave a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts.
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Ser Davos had offered to accompany him and he'd almost accepted, the idea of company easing the task ahead of him. Yet, in his heart, Tyrion knew this was something he had to do alone.
The coastline was a stark contrast to the horrors high above his head, where the distant screams of pain and crying, whether in fear, or grief, or agony, were overwhelming. No matter where he'd turned, there'd been a fresh scene of horror before him, horrors for which he felt partly responsible. He'd believed in his Queen, believed that she'd show mercy, that she wouldn't become her father, or as cold as his sister. And now….now there were simply ashes.
He'd never loved King's Landing, but he hadn't hated it either and looking back over the years it had been a place where he'd found immense pleasure, as well as pain, in times when everything had seemed simpler. He realised it had been, the Lannister name standing high above all – untouchable. Seeing the city reduced to rubble was a sight he still couldn't quite believe he'd witnessed. All those people….innocent people…. He may have held the noblemen of the city in contempt, the memories of his sham trial filling his mind, but the population of King's Landing had never felt his hate.
As he walked, he remembered standing ready to defend this city as Stannis' fleet pushed closer in to Blackwater Bay. He'd been proud to defend it. The acknowledgement of that sad truth was more painful than he'd expected.
In an effort to escape the acrid smoke billowing in to the air above, he walked closer to the water's edge, finding it brought little relief to his senses and he instead tried to focus on the sound of the water lapping against the shoreline, anything to take his focus from the here and now.
…Deep down he'd known that the dinghy would still be there, resting against the rocks, but the moment he rounded the cliff base and saw it, he also realised just how much hope he'd been carrying, that he'd be proven wrong. Had Jaime even made it inside the Red Keep? Or had he died in the inferno outside the gates?
The sight of Euron Greyjoy, a deathly colourless grey, propped against the rocks, the blood pooled all around him already dark and dry, gave him his answer. Only one person would have been in this cove, someone who also happened to despise the dead pirate before him.
Jaime.
Tyrion felt his chest tighten at the thought of what must have unfolded here between these two men; as the bloodied dagger on the ground close by seemed unlikely to have caused the damage Euron had received. No, Tyrion realised with a sad acceptance, that dagger had been used to inflict damage elsewhere.
A wave of sickness overcame Tyrion then, as he staggered slightly, moving away from the body and instead towards the boat, his hand grabbing hold of its wooden edge to steady himself. Looking up, he took in the sight in front of him, the crumbling remains of the Red Keep blocking the opening he'd remembered, sealing it, as you would a tomb.
Suddenly, it was all too much and he turned away, managing to move around to the other side of the boat, before his legs gave out and he crumbled down on to the rocky beach. Resting his back against the boat, he let his head fall forward, as the first sob left his throat, his mind conjuring up images of his brother trapped to die on the other side, so close to another chance at life.
He still hated his sister and her death brought him little sadness and even the sliver he did carry was for his brother's loss of a chance to start again, even if it would have been with her. Maybe it would have been destined to fail, but had the boat that now offered him much needed support to his weary frame not been there, he'd have been happy for Jaime.
His brother had always been a fool when it came to their sister, but as strange as it was, Tyrion had never questioned it. Theirs had been a bond that could never truly be severed; they'd shared too much. Yet, as he continued to sit, the tears slipping down his cheeks, he thought about how different it could have been and the weight of his grief seemed to double in an instant.
His mind drifted back to Winterfell, first to the night before the battle, a night they all assumed would be their last and then to the all-too few ones that had followed victory. He closed his eyes and recalled that night of celebration and fun, of jokes and games, of resting his head against Jaime's shoulder, as they grew more and more merry with Pod and Brienne. He'd wished it could have lasted forever.
Oh Brienne…He'd wanted so much for this incredibly brave, honourable, kind woman to be the one to help his brother start again. They were such an unlikely pairing and yet he'd noticed the connection they shared from the first moment he saw them together, following their harrowing journey back to the capital. She'd been good for his brother and helped him to care about far more than just being true to the Lannisters. Her respect mattered to him and his affection for her was beyond question.
He remembered his surprise at learning Jaime was staying behind in Winterfell with Brienne. Yet, as he'd told him, he'd been happy that Jaime's life was taking a different course, one that would keep him alive and away from the mind games of their sister. She may have loved Jaime, but she wasn't good for him; she never had been.
Yet, as he rested against the boat, he knew this had been the inevitable fate of his siblings. He'd overheard them say more than once over the course of their lives that they'd come in to the world together and would leave it the same way. No matter how much his brother had cared for Brienne, that couldn't override his lifetime of love for Cersei, his twin, his lover, the mother of his children.
She may have called his brother the stupidest Lannister, but it wasn't true – he was the most loyal Lannister, loyal to family above all else and it was that loyalty and unwavering love that was the reason Tryion would never see him again.
Jaime is dead.
The thought repeated over and over in his mind, a mantra of grief and pain, which he couldn't come to terms with, no matter how many times he repeated it.
Jaime is dead.
He'd lost everything now. There was simply nothing left.
For a moment he considered pushing the boat to the shore and climbing in to it, rowing himself across the water, becoming someone else and never thinking about the wretched Seven Kingdoms again. What did any of it matter now?
His belief in his Queen, his close friend, who he'd chosen to betray and his brother. All gone in a day. He found it hard to process the reality of the world he now found himself in.
He was alone.
The sobs came freely and he didn't hold them back. Exhausted physically and emotionally, the release eased his pain and for even a few moments he needed that escape.
It was as his sobs abated, leaving him sitting, eyes closed against the boat, that the kind voice of Ser Davos broke the silence.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but your absence has been noted. I thought best I come, before others were sent looking."
Tyrion nodded and sighed. "I didn't think I'd have long."
Davos glanced to the boat and the blocked cave. "He may not have been inside."
Tryion smiled sadly. "He was. He was my brother."
He shrugged his shoulders, as if to continue the thought through the gesture. He couldn't explain it rationally, but he knew Jaime had been inside when the world came tumbling down. He'd go as far as to stake his life on saying that his brother made it to their sister's side before the end.
"I'm sorry."
Davos' condolences were genuine and Tyrion nodded, touched by the simple act of human kindness. "Thank you." He and Davos shared an uncomfortable past that they'd never truly spoken of. "I should have said the same to you years ago…..for your son…I'm sorry….."
Davos moved to sit on a nearby rock, a sad smile passed across his expression. The Battle of Blackwater Bay seemed so long ago now, yet the grief weighed the same. "We were at war. People die in war."
Tyrion simply nodded. Far too many people had died in this war and he could no longer stomach his role in such chaos.
"I'll have some men look to clearing this," Davos added quietly, glancing to the cave. He understood all too well the pain of having no body over which to mourn.
"That's probably not wise. If she found out…." Tyrion couldn't finish the thought, the truth of the remaining message clear to both men without him needing to say more.
"She won't. I'll make sure of that."
Glancing at the older man, Tyrion smiled sadly in thanks, slightly overcome by the gesture.
"We're meant to have won. Doesn't feel much like it to me. You?"
The question spoke to everything Tyrion had been feeling since he'd seen the first spray of dragon fire coat the city. "No…no it doesn't." Another thought crossed his mind and he met Davos' eyes. "Where's Jon Snow?"
"At the Red Keep…..or what's left of it. Why?"
"He isn't safe," Tyrion whispered.
Davos nodded his head, the truth of the words undeniable. "What about the rest of us?"
There was no more to be said. The world had changed forever and the path ahead seemed littered with pain and sacrifice. All Tyrion could do was follow Sansa's advice; to look truth in the face and having done so, move forward, no matter what the personal cost. After all, he didn't have anything else left to lose.
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Thanks for reading and do let me know what you thought. Enjoy the final episode everyone!