When Podrick first found out he was going into the battle of blackwater with Lord Tyrion, he felt nothing but fear. He didn't know how to fight, he wasn't brave, he certainly wasn't a knight, but here he was. Here he was, standing next to Lord Tyrion as he rallied the troops against Stannis' thundering army. A massive,terrifying army. Pod gripped his sword in his sheath, praying he would never have to use it. He tried to distract himself from the birds that seemed to be endlessly fluttering about in his stomach, but it was to no avail. When the door finally broke down and the men came in, Pod fought the urge to run and hide. He ran beside Lord Tyrion, doing little as he cut down men twice his size. There was death all around him and he couldn't seem to escape it. As he ran, Pod pondered why men had to kill each other. As he dodged sword swings, he found he wanted to become their friend. He had a heart wrenching desire to know more of the men he was fighting, because he knew, that despite everything, they were still only men following orders. Pod turned to avoid a sword swing from an inexperienced young lad when he lost Lord Tyrion. Frantically looking around, Pod found no sign of the little man, and realized that now he would have to fight on his own. Pulling out his sword(which felt much too heavy in his hands), Pod began to swing it wildly as he ran through the muddy streets of King's Landing, still hoping he would never have to use it. He slipped through the crowd of men, relatively unnoticed until one of the soldiers saw him running.
"That one! Get him!" One with stubs for fingers on one hand shouted. Pod's heart began to race as he ran as fast as he could with his armor on, away from the men. They started closing in on him as he began to lose his breath from the chase. It was over when he felt an arm wrap around his neck and jerk him backwards.
"It's over, Lannister scum" he whispered into Pod's ear as they took him back to the one with stubby fingers.
"What should we do with him, Ser Davos?" Asked a filthy soldier. Pod spun around, trying to get a better look at his captors, trying to see a way out of this. Pod looked at Ser Davos, pleading when he saw the man had come to a final decision.
"Kill him, and kill him quick." The words were not even out of his mouth before Pod had tightened his grip on his sword and swung at him. The men started to shout and he felt swords clanging against his armor but his adrenalin helped him to fight Ser Davos. Ser Davos picked up his own sword and swung at Pod, narrowly missing his neck. Losing his energy and his breath, Pod gave a last swing before he dropped his sword. His fatal mistake was kneeling to pick it up. As he knelt, Ser Davos grabbed him by the collar of his undershirt and pulled him up to his height, thrusting his long sword through Pod's armor and into his stomach. Pod's eyes became saucers as he registered what was happening, and mere seconds had passed when the sword was yanked out of him and he fell to the dirty floor. Gasping, Pod tried to move, but could only keep laying on his back. He could hear the men leave after calling him "Lannister filth" one more time. His hands frantically pressed against his stomach, and as he brought them away, he saw the large amount of blood that stained them. I'm going to die, I'm going to die. Where's Lord Tyrion? Podrick's thoughts became fevered as his last moments neared, and he desperately tried to get up. He reached for his sword, anything, he just didn't want to die alone and on the ground. He lifted his head up and saw he was in front of a house with a small garden. What a pretty little place. If he squinted, he could see a mother and children looking out at him, terrified. Podrick wanted to comfort them, to say something, but he just kept silent. They wouldn't want to hear the words of a dying boy anyway. Why isn't Lord Tyrion with me? Did he leave me with the intention of letting me get killed by Baratheon soldiers? Was it because of how annoying I was? More of his blood leaked out and Podrick was starting to feel cold, which didn't make very much sense since it was summer in King's Landing. His movements became unintentionally weaker and his thoughts raced by sluggishly. It terrified him more than he could ever have imagined. His death had been more violent than he ever thought it would be. He had been stabbed through the belly by another soldier after fighting him, and now he was laying, dying because of it. Pod had also never felt more lonely. He had always thought he would die surrounded by his wife and sons, not in a nameless street. His last moments were being spent alone. As he mulled over the philosophical meaning of his death, Pod's vision started to turn black, signaling his departure from the world of the living. He only hoped someone would remember his name.
When Tyrion had lost Podrick in the battle, he had ceased to think of his loyal squire anymore. Now the battle of blackwater bay was finished, and Tyrion limped around, trying to find someone he knew. "Lannister" he turned to find a bloodied Bronn staring at him, and immediately rushed over to talk to his friend. "Cmon, help me find Pod" Tyrion led the way as they searched the battle ground for the squire. Tyrion began to become a bit more worried when they had searched over half of the city and there was no sign of Pod. The boy would be actively seeking him out now, surely they should have seen each other? Tyrion and Bronn turned down a street, not really paying attention to the name until they saw a garden in front of a house. Fearing the worst, Tyrion turned and saw two men lying on top of each other in the street. He and Bronn rushed over and were shocked to their very cores with what they saw. Underneath a burly Baratheon was Pod. Small, innocent Pod with a wound the size of Essos in his abdomen. Kneeling beside his squire in grief, Tyrion stroked his dirtied cheek. Bronn set about removing the man on top of Pod, but Tyrion only had eyes for his now dead squire. His first thoughts were about how it was all his thought. If he had just stuck with Pod, if he had only broken away from the fighting and searched for him earlier, then his death could have been prevented. Pod looked peaceful in death, his eyes closed, hair plastered to his skin and his hand laying over his wound. The other dead man was completely off of Pod now and Bronn picked up his limp body to be buried. As Bronn walked in front of him with the squire he had grown to almost love, Tyrion felt tears prick his eyes.
Tyrion sat in the Red Keep, pouring his own wine. The wind Podrick used to always pour him. He was a stupid, senseless boy. A stupid, senseless, brave boy who had died in battle defending the king and who had received a knight's burial. Even Shae couldn't comfort him. Podrick was one of the only true friends he'd actually had at King's Landing, one of the few people he had been able to fully trust with all his troubles. As he drank more of the wine Tyrion recalled how shocked the lords and ladies of the court had been when Tyrion demanded a knight's burial for Pos. They didn't realize that Tyrion and Podrick's relationship had gone beyond that of just lord and squire, that they had actually had something. They didn't realize why Tyrion teared up whenever he had to put his own armor on. As Tyrion set his wine down, he though, oh Pod, why'd you have to leave me?