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Four favorites and eight followers? Oh deary me! I feel so popular! SO here it is yet another chapter of Through Dark Eyes!

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The Demon and the Imp

The whispers amongst the people said that whoever Tyrion got to fight for would have to go against the Mountain. Which means that no one will fight for Tyrion. Demon sighed sighly, there was no luck for the small Lannister man. No one in the world, besides the Hound, would go against that bulky man.

Even Demon had his doubts, he had a certain set of skills, he wasn't a warrior, knight, or solider. He was an assassin, he fought in the shadows, not on a battlefield. If he were to fight the Mountain, he truly would find himself an even match. But one swing and off goes his head.

With Mountain at the Mother Queen's side no one was going to fight for Tyrion. Demon flinched holding at his lower torso. The wound from two weeks ago only seemed to be getting worse. It couldn't be infected, he cleaned and took proper care of it. It was probably still sensitive.

The wound was from a Dire wolf, it was three big marks that stretched from the middle of his ribs down to his hip. Even Demon had days where he felt like showing off. And this was the Lord of Light punishing him for his foolishness.

Demon pushed himself to walk, the hall he walked down was dark, minus the small light that came from the candles. This wound could be easily fix, with some milk of the poppy things would do well.

Demon wore black, his cloak was black, and the hood drawn over his face. His shirt was more of a dark navy color, his trousers were black, and tight. Around his waist was a dark brown belt with small pouches attached to them. His boots were also black, just more of an expensive leather.

It was in the whore house he visited that he was going to fight for the dwarf. His order was all for justice, blood promises and the highest bidder. Tyrion needed justice, without he surely would be put to death over a simple misunderstanding.

The three ended up staring at each other, Demon honestly didn't think he would meet anyone here. Everyone was scared by the Mountain, so it seemed like a easy in, tell the Imp that you're going to fight for him and leave.

But here Prince Oberyn, and a guard stood. The guard was a little on the short side with a piggy face and a full on beard. He was slouched and looked as if any discipline he had learned was lost in the darkness. The prince on the other stood tall, he wore yellow and looked devilishly handsome.

"Ahh, Well this isn't going to work." Demon shook his head breaking the silence. "I have a faint idea why you are here Prince Oberyn."

"Yes, I have come to fight, is that you are here as well?"

The prince was cautious. Which was good, it was surprising that the guard wasn't questioning why a darkly dressed figure was going into Tyrion's cell. Demon was a darkly looking character, and many other people now wanted Tyrion dead because of what he did to the dead king.

"Yes, and I do intend to carry out why I am here." Demon took a step forward his hands falling to his side.

"Do you think you're suited to defend him?"

Demon hugged himself and bit his lip holding back a laugh that just barely escaped his lips. It was a twisted sounding laugh, one that could steer people into believing it was a laugh of evil.

"And you think you're suited for this Prince Oberyn?" Demon asked. "After all you do have a deeper connection here, and will be fighting the Mountain, the same man who what again? It seemed to have slipped my mind."

Demon cockily put his finger up to his lips pretending to be coy.

"Raped my sister, and killed her and her children." Oberyn clearly sounded irritated.

"Oh yes, something that doesn't matter to our history." Demon nodded. "So if you were to go against the Mountain, I can see you getting cocky, and being fighting men we both know what happens to cocky men who fight."

Oberyn reached his hands out as if his was going to strangle Demon, who clearly hit a nerve. All the dark haired male did was raise up his hand, which was now in Oberyn's face.

"Go back to your room Oberyn, enjoy life as it is. Forget that you ever came here, but do not forget your reason for fighting for Tyrion." A small purplish black glow came from Demon's hands and Oberyn stood still for a second, then without a second breath he turned around and started walking away.

Demon turned to the guard. "Lovely isn't it?" Asked shoving his hand in the guards face. "It was a gift from the Lord of Light. After my death his gave me many dark powers."

The door opened to darkness, and it didn't take long for Demon to make out a small shape of a man sitting against a stoned wall. Once the guard shut the door Demon spoke.

"Hello." He simply said still standing by the door. "I've come to pledge my life to you."

"And you are?" Tyrion asked peering into the darkness.

"They call me Demon. . ."