Daenerys looked over the latest reports. Qarth and Volantis had both dispatched fleets to blockade the city, and they would arrive in a matter of days. An alliance between Yunkai and Astapor had formed and march by land. They would arrive within weeks, and they alone outnumbered her own forces by three to one.
What am I going to do? She had her dragons, but while they were of riding size, Daenerys hesitated to bring them into combat. They were the only children she would ever have, and she wouldn't risk their lives until there was no other choice. There isn't one. If she wanted any hope of victory, the dragons would have to be used.
Daenerys laughed at the silly little girl she had been mere months before. She'd assumed overthrowing the slavers would allow freedom to reign, and she would rule as a benevolent queen. However, those who resisted her would do everything in their power to prevent liberation from spreading.
At least the number of attacks in Meereen has quieted down. After Daenerys had executed several children, the nobles realized she was willing to back up her threat. It was close to a week before any further ambushes occurred in the city. She had killed nearly a hundred Sons of the Harpy and executed more, but it seemed to make little difference.
"Khalessi, Hizdahr is here to see you." The shavepate informed her.
"Send him in." The man was ruthless, but had proven his loyalty to Daenerys. However unpleasant she found it, she knew she would need men like him to ensure long-term stability.
Hizdahr zo Loraq swaggered in with a smile, wearing bright green clothing with multiple layers. Daenerys frowned at the obvious decadence. "It is my pleasure to serve, Your Grace." He bowed. "What can I do for you today?"
"Sit," Daenerys ordered. "I wish to discuss your proposal." He did so without another word and poured himself a glass of wine.
"I would have expected you to have a servant alongside," Hizdahr commented.
"This meeting is only between us," Daenerys responded. "As for your proposal to reopen the fighting pits, I cannot at this time agree to it. I consider it a barbaric practice that should have ended long ago." Even some of the pit fighters complained, but Daenerys was adamant.
"Your Grace, such an opening would allow our city to flourish and offer people a respite from their woes." Hizdahr sipped his drink. "But let us set that aside for now. What of my main proposal?"
"To marry you in exchange for a ninety-day peace?" Daenerys thumped her fingers on the table. "I don't think that's necessary, not when I've proven my threats have teeth."
"Meaning no disrespect, Your Grace, but you have enemies marching at your gates." Hizdahr relaxed into his chair. "If you. . . if we wish to survive, we must make a gesture of unity. This city has suffered from warfare for too long."
"We have." Daenerys had allowed those from surrounding towns and village refuge, provided they revealed no obvious sign of illness. "But I have my dragons and Unsullied, equal to ten times their number."
"Do you mean to marry Daario then?" Hizdahr narrowed his eyes.
"No." He was fun in bed, but Daenerys knew better than to marry a sellsword. "If you want us to marry, you're going to have to promise more than ninety days."
"Your Grace, I am no member of the Harpy!" Hizdahr tried to sound indignant but terror spread across his face. He took a large drink and trembled.
"Well, that's a shame." Daenerys spoke in a dangerous voice.
"I apologize. I wish I had information to give you! They want me dead as well!" Hizdahr jumped to his feet and stared at the door.
"You're not going anywhere." Daenerys knew he would try fleeing from the beginning. "You see, I lied when I claimed we were alone." Grey Worm climbed out from under her bed and Strong Belwas emerged from her dresser. "I'd like to make a proposal of my own." She kept her voice steady. "You give me every member of the Harpy and I don't crucify you." Anyone with experience would have checked the room for foes, but he was a fool.
"Your Grace, I am innocent!" Hizdahr soiled himself, making Daenerys' lips curl.
"Don't insult my intelligence." Daenerys found her voice more intimidating when she was quiet. "You've offered me peace with the Sons of the Harpy in exchange for marriage multiple times. Did you truly think I wouldn't make the connection?"
"Khalessi, let me gut this man." Belwas smiled. "A pitiful display, not even worth allowing him to cut me."
"Please, I've done nothing to you!" Hizdahr broke down in tears and fell to his knees. "Your Grace, I've only. . ."
"Another lie and I will remove your tongue." Daenerys stood up. "Now you will give all the information you have. This is not a negotiation." Grey Worm threw something on the table. "In case you needed additional incentive."
"This. . . is my sister's ring." Hizdahr gulped at the human hand. "You. . ."
"Yes, I did, as a warning to what will happen if you don't tell me what I want to know." Hizdahr pressed his body into a corner and held his hands out. "I have your sister, your children, and your cousins. Do you need a few more body parts to make up your mind? I'm sure the Shavepate won't mind getting them for you."
"Don't hurt them!" What little resistance left in Hizdahr faded. "I'll give them to you!"
"I knew you were lying about not being a member." Daenerys paced back and forth. "I don't enjoy executing children, especially for crimes they were not a part of. But you? I'll enjoy seeing a man like you suffer."
"If I give you the names, you will spare my life." Hizdahr collapsed to the ground.
"No." Daenerys denied. "You will die; that much will not change. However, provided you offer full cooperation, your execution will be merciful, and I will spare your family." She turned to Belwas. "Fetch a quill and parchment."
"I. . . I don't know everyone." Hizdahr begged.
"Give me everyone you do know." Daenerys demanded. "Grey Worm, if he hesitates again, break every bone in his free hand."
"Of course, Khalessi." He agreed underneath his helmet. Hizdahr grabbed the quill and wrote with such haste, the names were hardly legible. Daenerys waited with steel eyes, nonverbally warning him of the consequences of holding back.
In total, he wrote down sixty-one names for them to interrogate. "Give this to the shavepate." Daenerys ordered Belwas. "I want every Son of the Harpy found and executed. We no longer have the luxury of rooting them out one at a time."
"That's everyone, I swear!" Hizdahr begged.
"For your sake, I hope so." Daenerys cupped his chin. "You and your fellow slavers have spit on my mercy for the last time. Perhaps I should have killed you all the moment I conquered Meereen. I'm still considering that option." Perhaps Daario had been right after all, brutal as the act was.
"You will. . . you will spare their lives?" Hizdahr sobbed.
"Yes. No further harm will come to them." In truth, Daenerys had not cut his sister's hand off; merely put her ring on a recently deceased corpse's finger. She'd half-expected him to see through the ploy, but the information received about his cowardice proved to be true.
"What will you do with me now?"
"When the sun sets, you will be executed for treason, as will every Son of the Harpy." It occurred to Daenerys Hizdahr could be lying about the names to save his own skin, but it couldn't be helped. She bit her lip, tempted to have him crucified regardless of his cooperation. He dared to propose a marriage in return for a temporary peace! No doubt he'd planned to turn her into a Puppet Queen, at best. No. I gave him my word. Daenerys knew he would never have done the same were their positions reversed, but she refused to become what she fought against. "Get him out of my sight."
"Khalessi, are you sure about this?" Grey Worm questioned when the interrogation was over.
"I am." It would tell her enemies she would no longer be weak and spared Daenerys the agony of executing children. "I'll feed their corpses to my children." As they grew, her dragons required an enormous amount of food and it was an easy way to dispose of them. "And now we have to deal with Yunkai and Astapor's forces."
Daenerys toured the city, her Unsullied at her side. She could hear distant sounds of suspected members of the Harpy dragged out of their homes, wives pleading for their husband's lives. I am the blood of the dragon. Daenerys allowed them to see her power, her authority over Meereen. All her enemies would soon fall before her.
XXXXXXX
"I'm glad you were willing to come around," Margaery smiled from across the table, holding Matthew's hand.
"Consider it a method of reconciliation," Matthew still didn't trust the Tyrells, but having met the Red Viper in person, he realized there was nothing that would persuade him to move past his grudge. "I hope the Wedding Plans are to your satisfaction."
"A pleasure to have you as my good-brother," Loras practically choked on the words. While Garlan was always polite to him, Loras' hatred for him had not dimmed in the least. "And I am deeply honored to be a member of your Kingsguard."
"Oh, the honor's all mine." Matthew spoke in a dry tone. He didn't want Loras anywhere near him, but Margaery had insisted on it as one of her terms for marriage. "Do keep in mind it's a lifetime duty before you make your final decision."
"Thanks for agreeing to this, Your Grace," Margaery got to her feet. "I believe both of us will prosper from such an alliance. Originally, I had intended to allow my grandmother to debate the details, but she believed me capable of doing so."
"Oh, I find you a very capable woman," Matthew held her hands in his. She had a gorgeous smile and pretty face, which meant many would overlook her keen mind. Matthew wasn't about to make the same mistake. Mental note: do not drink anything at the wedding. He remembered how the canon Joffrey died and was grateful the Queen of Thorns wasn't around. "And I believe you've sufficiently made up for your mistake."
"Both of us find ourselves with few friends and many enemies," Garlan interjected. "Doing this is a natural step. And despite your reputation, I do not believe you will mistreat my sister." He was quieter than his younger brother, but Matthew received the warning nonetheless.
"No, nor would I expect your family to allow a marriage to anyone like that. Shame it couldn't be said about everyone." Matthew thought of Tywin Lannister. "But right now, our struggles are far from over. Better to stand together than apart."
"And I assure you, I'm a maid," Margaery smiled. Matthew had no idea whether she was telling the truth, nor did he care. Wasn't as if there was a reliable way to determine virginity, despite claims to the contrary.
"Whatever you say, My Lady." Matthew smiled. "Between you and me, though far fewer are maids on their wedding day than is commonly believed. Yes, women are quieter about it, but they too participate in nighttime activities." Those who he'd discovered agreed to spy for him in exchange for keeping his mouth shut.
"You are most wise, Your Grace." Margaery complimented, which Matthew considered mere flattery. "I believe you will be among the best Kings in Westeros."
"If the Gods permit, at least." And if his track record improved. "I'll let my subordinates take care of most of the wedding details." Matthew had instructed Cersei to keep an eye out for possible trouble. She'd be an atrocious rule, but his supposed mother still had her uses. "Much as I would like to handle it, there is only so much time in a day."
"I'll defend you with my life, Your Grace." Loras smiled but Matthew could see the hatred bubbling within.
She wants someone to protect her. . . or to kill me when the time's right. It was a risk he had to take nonetheless. Matthew considered hiring more bodyguards to keep Loras in check, in case the other members of his Kingsguard weren't enough. Bodyguards to protect me from my other bodyguards. The way things are going, I'll end up like a Roman Emperor.
"What of the offer you made to Arianne?" Garlan interjected. "The Red Viper's a dangerous man and not one to take such an insult lightly."
"Betrothals are often broken, with several proposed before a match is final." Matthew dismissed. He intended to keep an eye on both of them nonetheless.
"How could you have ever considered such a match, Your Grace?" Margaery questioned. "It is well known Dornish women are loose and untrustworthy."
"Keep your friends close. . . and your enemies closer." Matthew gave a brief pointed look. He trusted the Tyrells as far as he could spit a brick, but with the Stormlanders' support half-hearted at best, there were few places to turn. "Doran won't act so long as his brother and daughter are in the Capitol." In the worst-case scenario, he could use Dorne against the Reach. Based on the knowledge he obtained from Joffrey, their hatred went back a thousand years.
"I hope, in agreeing to this, we will no longer be hostages," Garlan wanted to ensure his family's safety.
"Very well, though the payments will continue for at least the next five years." Matthew wondered how much progress his projects were making back in Casterly Rock. He'd wanted to work on them himself, but Kingship was incompatible with inventing. "I've got great plans for the continent."
They continued debating the details long into the afternoon. The match between Margaery and Matthew was finalized, although Loras' assignment to the Kingsguard was non-negotiable. He'd expected Tywin's presence, though Matthew surmised he was still being tested as a ruler.
"I look forward to being a part of your family." Margaery kissed his cheek before departing. Matthew marched out of his chambers shortly afterward.
Waiting along the corridors were his personal troops, those whom he had raised up from nothing. Few wore more than mail and possessed limited skill with swords, but were still capable. Matthew felt dozens upon dozens of determined eyes on him.
His personal army had grown to several thousand, outnumbering the Gold Cloaks and comparable in number to the Lannister bannermen still within the city. More smallfolk were being trained by those with combat experience, regularly giving vows of loyalty to the King.
Matthew wandered to the training yard, to see and be seen. Five hundred stood in formation with pikes and helmets, which he hoped to soon turn into musketmen. They'd already proven themselves valuable facing Robb and Matthew desired a counter to the other players in King's Landing. He'd found those he recruited would be loyal so long as he could provide for them, and thanks to his recent deals, he had no shortage of gold.
"Excellent idea; have an army loyal only to you!" Joffrey laughed. Matthew knew the boy had a point. "You're surrounded by enemies, those who wish you harm. It won't be long until they try again!"
I'm well aware of that. Matthew didn't plan to eat or drink anything during the wedding. He didn't put it past Margaery to try and poison him. Can't believe I'd prefer being shot at. At least then, he knew what to do. Despite improvement, politics and backstabbing were not his forte.
XXXXXXX
It isn't true. It isn't true. Tyrion's steps felt like lead as he ascended the stairs to Jaime's chambers. It had been two days since the conversation with Varys and while he'd promised to confront his brother immediately, Tyrion had been unable to do so that morning. He'd lost his nerve at the last moment and retreated. Not this time.
Thoughts of Tysha rarely left his mind now, of the young girl he'd fallen in love with, that part of him still loved. Even if she was a whore, Tyrion had grown attached to her until Tywin ripped her away. He cursed himself for his lack of courage when it was his turn. He should have refused to touch her. . . but even now, Tyrion knew he couldn't stand up to his sister, let alone then. Few could.
His hand wrapped around the door handle, bracing himself. Tyrion spotted no guards at Jaime's door. He hadn't expected them; his brother had always been capable of defending himself. Yes, greatest swordsman in Westeros, and the most handsome. Tyrion forced back his resentment. Jaime had always loved him, one of the few in his family that did. I hope.
"Hello, little brother." Jaime smiled, leaning back in his chair. "To what do I owe this pleasure? I'd expected you to be in the Master of Coin's office."
"Well, there are times I need to get away. I'm a Lannister, after all. Gold is one thing I do not lack." Tyrion fell back on familiar quips, studying his brother. Jaime revealed no sign that he suspected anything.
"I never did have the patience for it. I prefer using my sword to win wars over gold." Jaime pointed to his new blade, one made of Valyrian Steel, melted from Stark's greatsword after his execution. "But I always enjoy a visit from my brother. Care for some wine?"
"No." Tyrion hadn't touched it since the visit. "I need to speak to you about something important." Jaime's cheerful face disappeared immediately.
"What do you need me for? If it's our sweet sister. . ."
"No, she hasn't given me trouble. Perhaps she's learned to love me after all." Tyrion gave a dark laugh. Out with it. You need to know, one way or the other. "It's about Tysha."
"You still think about her, even now?" A brief look of guilt crossed Jaime's face.
"Well, it's hard to forget my once-wife surrounded by Lannister guardsmen." Tyrion attempted to make a joke, but it came out with rage instead. "And over time, I've been thinking more about it. I'm not a boy anymore, and I wonder. . ." His body went stiff. ". . . what the truth really is."
"What are you talking about, Tyrion? I know we never forget our first fuck, regardless of who it was."
No, you'd never forget Cersei, would you? In his own twisted way, Jaime had always been faithful to her. "You told me she was a whore, that you set it up because you thought it was time I had a woman. I'm beginning to wonder."
"Perhaps I shouldn't have done it, but it was a rite of passage all of us need to go through."
"Yes, so you've told me all these years." Anger grew with every word. "And I've never questioned it, until now. Tysha was a very convincing wife, so. . . I wonder if it was an act, if she wasn't genuinely in love again."
More guilt entered Jaime's face, and this time, it stayed. "Tyrion, where did this come from? I know Father was harsh with you, but. . ."
"Oh, he's never been anything else. I want the truth. Now!" Tyrion couldn't hold it back any longer.
"I. . ." Jaime rubbed his temples. "No, she wasn't a whore. Tysha's exactly who you once thought she was."
Tyrion gripped the table to keep from falling. He'd known Varys' words sounded true, but there was a part of him hoping it was a falsehood. Hearing the words from Jaime's mouth. . . She wasn't a whore. She'd been the only one in Westeros who ever gave a damn about him. "And you couldn't have told me this, then?" Tyrion stammered, fighting back tears.
"Father forbade it." Jaime turned his head away. "He said. . . that a lesson had to be sent." He placed his head on his chin. "That all she cared about was your gold, that you'd understand why it had to be done."
"Do you have any idea what he did?" Tyrion spat, all his previous love for Jaime gone in an instant. "I was forced to watch while every guardsmen in his house raped. Father forced me in place, to where I couldn't look away. At first, she pleaded with me, begging me to do something. . . then she lost her voice. A silver coin for each one. . . by the end, there was a pile of them on the floor."
"I. . . I never imagined he'd do that." Jaime's voice went quiet with shame. "I thought he'd annul the marriage, have a septon declare it void. . . who would have refused him?"
"And last, there was me." Tyrion had wanted to tell Jaime for many years. "I saw her eyes, broken and pleading. There was no spirit left in her, nothing of the girl I loved. Father ordered me to do the same and. . . I did." Tyrion wished he'd had the strength to refuse, but he did not. "And you kept this information from me. Where did she go?"
"I don't know. Father sent her away and never mentioned her again. He didn't kill her, but that's all I know."
"You don't know." Tyrion sneered.
"I'm sorry, brother. I've wanted to tell you for years, but. . ."
"We are well beyond apologies, Jaime. A Lannister always pays their debts." Jaime, his father, Cersei. . . his entire family had betrayed him. "I've known the truth about you for a long time. You and Cersei, all those secret meeting places behind the King's back. Unlike him, I wasn't a blind fool."
"Do you intend to tell Father about us?"
"No, you don't get off that easily. I trusted you, Jaime, an act I now see was a mistake."
"I know this was a grave mistake, and one not easily forgiven." Jaime got to his feet with a groan. "Yet you are still my younger brother, and I ask you: can you forgive me for this?"
"No." Tyrion expressed a single word. "It seems the Gods will not be satisfied until I lose everything. Just so you know, brother, you've been loyal to Cersei, but what makes you think she's been loyal to you?"
"I know this is difficult, so I'll pretend you didn't say this."
"You might be surprised at what you'll discover." Tyrion waddled off. He knew Cersei had been unfaithful to him, but wanted Jaime to discover it himself, make the revelation all the more painful.
Even Jaime has betrayed me. His brother could have told him the truth for years, only to keep it to himself. Tysha. . . Tyrion wondered where she was now. Was his lost love alive or dead? If she was alive, where was she? He'd been too broken to ask at the time, but now. . .
Many in court turned to look at Tyrion, but he stared back. He dared them to insult him, to call him dwarf or imp one more time. If they were foolish enough, he'd ruin them and damn the consequences.
Pity. . . nobody approached him, either to kiss his ass or insult him. With no visible targets to vent his rage at, Tyrion marched back into his chambers, with nothing to do but think and fume. His sellswords had been transferred to the King's personal troops, leaving him with minimal protection.
Couldn't leave me a thing, could you, Father? Tywin had always hated his dwarf son, and took extra pleasure in humiliating him. I will never have Casterly Rock, Tysha, nor will I receive any gratitude for keeping this family afloat. Tyrion wondered why he'd bothered for all those years. Cersei was a blind fool, lashing out at shadows, while Jaime was too enthralled by her to say anything.
Varys had told the truth. Tyrion had prayed the Spider was lying to him, but he knew. His gaze turned toward the vial hidden near a pile of financial records, which he was confident no one would care to read. Except me, the Master of jobs no one else wants. The opportunity for revenge, if he wanted to take it.
Tyrion rubbed his temples. Furious as he was, he couldn't bring himself to harm Jaime, even if a small part of him delighted in Tywin's reaction to his favorite son's death. Father wouldn't be able to. . . Tywin wouldn't know how to respond. He had never been a father to him.
Tyrion knew Varys had ulterior motives for giving him the information. The eunuch had another agenda, someone he believed would make a better ruler. Yet still he hesitated to act. Tywin wouldn't care if he was found out; it wouldn't impact his plans in the least.
He hopped up and pocketed the vial, caring less and less about what Varys wanted. I've never gotten what I wanted. Why shouldn't I make them suffer? The whole world thought him a monster despite saving their ungrateful lives. Perhaps he should have let Renly slaughter them.
Their visitor in the King's body. . . he had to have known the truth. Even if he didn't, Tyrion didn't care. They'd had a pleasant relationship at first, only for the King to turn on him, like everyone else. He'd been a tool for him to use upon arrival, nothing more than that.
However, he knew if he was going to act, it would have to be done delicately. This would get me beheaded if I was caught. Tyrion couldn't identify what was inside, but knew it could be nothing other than poison. Perhaps Varys wants me as a scapegoat, someone to hang our crimes on.
Tyrion found himself ignored for the next few days as the wedding preparations were made. The King spent much of his time with Margaery or her brothers. Tyrion couldn't help but be curious as to how he intended to smooth things over, but both the Lannisters had Tyrells had plenty of enemies around them.
"Quite insulting to offer a marriage proposal and then ignore it." Oberyn Martell remarked alongside his niece one day during Tyrion's normal duties. "Wouldn't you agree, dwarf?"
"Our King seems to enjoy insulting people." Tyrion shrugged. "Surely, though, he wouldn't dare to offend Dorne."
"Enough of your games!" Oberyn snapped. Arianne waited there with a polite smile on her face. Tyrion saw far more skin revealed than anyone in King's Landing would have dared show. "He made us a promise and I intend to make sure he honors it."
"Perhaps we're both being given a favor," Tyrion suggested, unsure why he bothered to defend his family. "You wouldn't want your niece in King's Landing. Whole city smells like shit." Both knew Oberyn didn't truly want the match, but it was an excellent opportunity to cause the Lannisters trouble.
"You've just fought one war. I can't imagine you're eager for another." Oberyn looked ready to draw a dagger. "I have not forgotten what Gregor Clegane did to my sister and her children."
"You'll have the opportunity to get your revenge in a matter of days." Clegane had already been called back to King's Landing, while his brother Sandor was ordered to return to his keep. Tyrion knew his younger brother was just as feared and possessing more restraint. "I expect half the Kingdom will be disappointed they were robbed of the opportunity."
"I will accept the gesture for what it is," Oberyn muttered. "But this will not be an insult easily forgotten. And now he wishes to give my niece to his younger brother."
"Did he?" Tyrion heard the same offer made to Sansa Stark. He was attempting to play both sides, though Tyrion doubted it would have the intended effect. "Now, unless you want to visit a brothel with me, I must return to my duties."
"If you were anyone other than a Lannister, I would accept."
"Do give my fond regards to the King, My Lord," Arianne spoke up. "Tell him I can still. . . prove to be of service in other ways."
"I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear it." Tyrion gave a nod and departed. He spent the rest of the day going through their finances. The damage Littlefinger caused had been somewhat mitigated but could easily destroy them if they weren't careful.
When all his preparations were ready, Tyrion told himself the moment was now. Do I truly want to go through with this? No one was more damned than a kinslayer and however much his family mistreated him, they were still his relatives. And his older brother had expressed genuine remorse, even if he had been too much of a coward to tell him the truth earlier.
Why, so I can slave away my years, getting nothing in return? Tywin will give Casterly Rock to a peasant before he hands it to me! Tyrion thought of Tysha's face, broken by what she'd endured. Not a day passed where it didn't enter his memory. Tywin had made his feelings clear. Kevan would follow his brother's lead.
Tyrion handed the vial to one of his servants in his pocket, who would then hand it to an unsuspecting cook, believing it to be a mere spice. By the time the truth was realized, he would be long gone.
Still. . . a hundred things could go wrong. Assassinations were not easy to carry out and people at the top were the most protected of all. Tyrion felt relief wash over his body once the deed was done. I shouldn't be feeling this way. Try as he might, he felt no remorse for what he'd done, only satisfaction of paying back a lifetime of mistreatment.
The night before the wedding, no one bothered to pay attention to a single imp. Tyrion grabbed a sack of gold and gems he'd been saving up in case he needed to make an emergency trip. It wouldn't last indefinitely, but it would ensure food and comfort for a long time, along with paying off anyone who might ask uncomfortable questions.
Tyrion marched out of the Red Keep. However much he wanted to witness justice served with his own eyes, it would be foolish to stick around. I'd be their primary suspect. Even if he'd been innocent, he suspected his family and everyone in court would be happy to put the blame on him.
Without guards, Tyrion knew he was hideously vulnerable. He wore a shirt of chain-mail, enough to cover most of his body, along with a hidden dagger in case of attackers. He chuckled at the possibility of dying at the hands of an attacker who had no idea who he was.
Even without light, Tyrion knew precisely where to go. Only a handful were outside their homes, shady characters committing dirty deeds. No one took notice of him, perhaps for the first time in his life. They didn't ask him questions, nor did they care.
He ignored the mud and shit on his boots, reminding himself this would be the last time he was ever in King's Landing. There was no turning back, with the poison in place. Tyrion put on a brave face, refusing to make himself look like an easy target.
At the docks, a ship waited for him, one due to depart in a couple days. Tyrion had previously got word to the captain about a bonus given for extra cargo. They weren't the type to ask many questions, something he was profoundly grateful for. He arrived to find a handful of guards stationed to prevent possible robbery.
"I believe you were told to expect me," Tyrion handed them each a gold coin. Even if they decided to kill him for the rest, it would be better than returning to the Red Keep.
"You got the cargo?" One of them asked, a giant of a man nearly six feet tall.
"You're looking at it." Tyrion spread his hands out.
"It's you?" Another scoffed, carrying a spear. He pointed it near, but not directly at, Tyrion. "Sounds like that'll cost you double."
"Always happy to reward my friends." Tyrion inwardly seethed but did as requested. He'd brought along hundreds of gold dragons, along with precious gems. "Now if I could come aboard. . ." Each of them nodded and Tyrion prepared himself. He'd never enjoyed ship travel, but it couldn't be helped.
Most of the cargo the ship, Sea Warrior, was designed to carry stayed below deck. Apart from the guards, the other members were asleep. Few would know of Tyrion's presence until the time was right. He kept his footprints quiet and creeped down below deck. The longship wouldn't be in the city long.
Tyrion wandered through the corridors until he found his room, only five feet high by seven feet wide. Were he anyone else, it would have proved extremely cramped. One of the few times being a dwarf has worked out for me. Tyrion stretched out and laid down, relieved to be free of his family at last.
With a single act, Lannister supremacy would soon be shattered. And by the time they learned of him, Tyrion would be on his way to Slaver's Bay to meet someone new.
XXXXXXXXXX
Well, Tyrion's last hope is shattered and now we see the man of "A Dance With Dragons." I'm toying with the idea of him meeting Tysha again, though I haven't made up my mind completely. Out of all the mistakes Matthew's made, trusting Tyrion was probably the biggest; very easy to forget what he was like in the books, especially later on.