~Tyrion~
I awoke to a terrible pain in my face, the memory of fire and screams in my mind, before I blinked away the last fogs of what seemed to be a dream to see Maester Pycelle looking down at me with a mocking grin. I did not trust being anywhere near this man while I was not strong enough to defend myself.
"Pod!" I shouted, hoping my quiet squire was close by. "Pod!"
"Yes my lord?" He called as he rushed to my side, eyes wide.
"Find Bronn or Varys. Tell them I am with Maester Pycelle and very much alive." I ordered.
"Yes my lord." He spoke before rushing off quickly as the Grand Maester chuckled.
"Would you like something for the pain?" He asked with a sly smile as he came to stand next to me. I glared at him for a moment, only to find it was rather tiring and quite painful so I gave it up rather quickly.
"What happened?" I asked with a sigh as I lay my head back on a pillow.
"The murderer and traitor, Stannis Baratheon, suffered a stunning defeat at the hands of your father." He explained quite casually, as if I hadn't been involved at all.
"Where am I?" I asked, noticing this room was considerably smaller than my own chambers, and less decorative. The Grand Maester looked about before smiling again.
"These are your new chambers." He explained. "A little cramped perhaps, but you don't need much room, do you?" He thought he was being quite clever, the cheeky bastard.
"You are no longer Hand of the King." He announced before walking away. He paused at the door, picking out a coin from his pocket before turning back to me.
"For your trouble." He laughed as he flicked it at me, finally leaving with a laugh. I looked about me then, taking in the dust covered books and small chest. The bland walls and sour drapes. It's like they picked the most miserable room in the keep and placed me in it. I thought with a sigh as I gazed up at the ceiling. Wondering how I'd come this far only to lose it all in a single night, without even the slightest drop of wine.