"Nephew, if the gods, whoever they may be, considered fucking to be sinful, then why it is pleasurable?"

"Maybe when they dictated their laws, they wanted to say… knitting instead of fucking."

"Knitting? Why would knitting be sinful?"

"Well… I don't know, but it's better for knitting to be sinful than fucking."

"Yes, indeed."

Tyrion and his uncle, Gerion, were drunk, alongside One-Eyed Garon and another sailor, Hobart. They were near Lys, with only a night of sailing between they and the Free City. Of course, after months at sea, the only thing the passengers and the crew of the Lion were thinking at was sex. Well, with the exception of Emmon Frey.

"Emm, are you sure you don't want to… fuck? Ha, ha!"

"I prefer to be faithful to my wife."

"Yeah, because she was sooo faithful to you, but I guess at sixty-one you stopped having…urges!"

"What are you insinuating, Tyrion?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

"Listen, I know what people are saying. I am not deaf, nor blind. But your aunt's integrity is unquestionable. As for my urges, well, they are only for my wife!"

"And tell me, Emmon, what are you going to do when you will go with us in the brothel and you will be the only one not fucking? People will think you a eunuch."

"Yeah, a eunuch."

"Especially as you are bald and you have no beard."

"Simple, I won't go to the brother with you. I will stay at an inn or on the ship."

Garon Flowers laughed:

"With all due respect, my lord of Frey, you are one big stick in the mud."

"Stick in the mud? I am here with you, going full speed towards certain death, I am not a stick in the mud!"

"Actually, we are going full speed towards certain… pleasures!"

"Cunts… A lot of cunts."

"And cocks."

Hobard's reply was met with questioning eyes from the others.

"So you like boys?"

"Yes, milord."

Gerion smirked:

"Well, that's no problem. In Lys, there are all kinds of appetizers to sate even the most refined of palates. It's not like Westeros."

Emmon Frey interrupted Gerion:

"Well, at least in Westeros, nobody tries to poison you at every minute."

Tyrion laughed, remembering the cask of wine in his room:

"Really?"

"Now, now. The night is still young and so are we, well, except Emmon. But let's make him an honorary young man for the evening."

Emmon was not impressed. Tyrion took a chair from the cabin and after sitting on it with his feet, to compensate for his height, he started to shout:

"Who is the best singer here? I heard you all singing your… sailor… songs…"

He puked. It was normal, after an entire evening drinking only wine. Of course, he drank more wine to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

"Like I said… I heard you all with your sailor songs. But for this night, I want something… romantic… No, no, something better. Something sad! Make me cry!"

Emmon Frey raised his hand.

"Well, I like to sing. I don't know if I'm any good, but I'll try."

Tyrion laughed:

"I asked the crew but… Fine, sing something, Emm."

Emmon coughed:

I never thought I'll be alone,

In this world of pain,

Inside those dreary walls of stone,

That I have fought to gain.

In wars of yore I battled hard

To win respect and glory

But at the end of all of that

I've started to die slowly.

My beloved wife, so pretty,

Her favor I had won,

But in the bed of blood she died,

Alongside our son.

I've buried them and suffered much,

Tears of blood I've cried,

Until my heart was cold as stone,

Until my eyes had dried.

I tried to marry one more time,

This time, a lady from the Reach,

In vain she tried to ease my pain,

My heart's stone, she couldn't breach.

Yet our son was wonderful,

So handsome and so kind,

Yet the cruel fate stroke again!

From a horse he fell… He died!

Oh, cruel gods, take me instead!

And let him be alive,

For I have wished to die, not him,

He, who was so full of life!

My wife told me: This is fate,

You are a noble, you can't cry,

This is the life the gods have sent us,

You're born, you grow and then you die!

I don't care if I am a noble

I piss on titles and lands

I'd give them all away at once,

To feel again my children's hands.

The banner of my father's house

A piece of cloth without a meaning,

No noble name and noble blood,

Will drive away the pain I'm feeling.

Everyone was astonished. They never knew that Emmon could sing so beautifully. And the song was really a sad one but it was unknown to Tyrion.

"Emm… wow… What song is this?"

"The Wail of the Falcon, a ballad from the Vale. It's about Ser Edgar Arryn, who lost his first wife and both his sons. He eventually left the Eyrie and took the black."

Gerion was truly sad. He immediately thought at his daughter, Joy. It was months since they left Lannisport. Is she well-fed? Is she warm? Is she dead? Maybe Tywin killed her, just to get back at him. Maybe he poisoned her, as he tried to poison them on the ship.

"Well… Now you made me sad. Come on, Emm, sing me another song. A bawdy one!"

"I'm not sure…"

The entire ship started to chant:

"Emmon, Emmon, Emmon!"

"Fine!"

A Northern lady came in sight

As I was wounded in a fight

"I'll treat your wounds, my dear good knight,

If you will fuck me all the night!"

The wicked lady came from hell

With tits as big as Winterfell

"My good dear knight, you look so well,

Your cock so big, your face so swell."

She came to me, under my sheets

And shamelessly she flashed her tits

"My dear good knight, I love your bits,

On honor I don't give two shits!"

She sucked my cock until I came,

And swallowed it all without a shame

"I'm hungry, I am not to blame,

That in my cunt it burns a flame!"

The lady then took off her dress,

All night I fucked her, without stress,

All night she screamed only "Yes, Yes!

I never expected any less!"

The entire ship laughed when they heard this song:

"Ha, ha, ha! What's with this one?"

"That's the Northern Lady from Hell."

"How come I never heard these songs?"

"Well, if you would have asked me before, you would have heard them."

Gerion's belly hurt from all the laughter:

"Now, it's my turn. Bawdy or sad?"

"Sad!"

"No, bawdy!"

"Hey, what about we tell jokes?"

Tyrion's idea was good.

"Fine, nephew, I'll start. What's the horniest season, winter or summer?"

"What?"

"Winter, because it's always coming."

"Ha, ha, ha! Good one. Emm?"

"Ugh… Why is Walder Frey the greatest lord in Westeros?"

"Because he can field an army from his breeches only. Come on, that's an old one. Me now. A Lannister enters a brothel with a jackass and a honeycomb…"

Before Tyrion could finish his joke, a huge noise was heard in front of the ship. Two large ships, approached the Laughing Lion.

"Shit… pirates! Garon, wake up!"

The captain was completely drunk.

"Fuck… Uncle, what are we going to do?"

"Fight, or die!"

"Or not…"

Tyrion stumbled towards his quarters and picked up a large piece of white cloth. He returned with it to the main deck:

"Uncle, give me your sword… I have a… plan!"

"Plan? You are drunk, and you are not a fighter. So what are you doing?"

"I will surrender the ship!"

"What?"

"Yes."

"Tyrion, what the fuck?"

"Hey, I said I have a plan. Come, play along!"

Tyrion and Gerion approached the port side of the Lion.

"Umm… who are you?"

A booming voice was heard from one of the enemy ships, speaking a Common tongue almost perfect, with just a faint accent.

"I am Captain Khorros of the Whispering Swan. I will capture your ship. If you oppose me, you will die. Surrender now and I will be merciful. If you don't comply, I will burn your ship."

"Ugh, you don't have to do this. I am Tyrion, of House Lannister. Son of Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Come to my ship and we will speak like gentlemen. I accept your surrender on the condition that you will accept my terms!"

Captain Khorros was intrigued. After the ships stopped, the gigantic pirate arrived on the main deck of the Laughing Lion with five of his men. The crew of the Lion was shocked to see one of the most dangerous pirates alive right there, on their ship.

"A dwarf? You mean to tell me this ship is captained by a dwarf? Did that fucking half-blind bastard die?"

"Well, not exactly. The captain is momentarily indisposed after he drank a bit too much. I am his benefactor, the one who organized this… little trip!"

"So, why is a Lannister sailing so far from home?"

"Well, I wanted to visit my lover. She lives in Lys."

"Who do you think I am, boy? This ship is the Laughing Lion, the flagship of the Lannisport fleet. Whenever the Lion leaves Westeros, it goes to the Iron Bank of Braavos, either to pay money to the bankers or to loan money from them. Which means you are going to Braavos."

"Braavos? Yeah, you caught us. We are going to Braavos."

"Of course you are going to Braavos. You Lannisters only know about gold. Some say that you love gold so much that you eat it and then you shit it so you can eat it again."

"Definitely, we are such shit-eaters. Now, if you want this ship, will you agree with my terms?"

"What terms?"

"If we give you the ship, swear right in front of your men, on your honor as a captain that you will take us to Lys so we can hire another captain to take us to… Braavos."

"You have a witty tongue, dwarf. And you?"

The pirate captain saw Gerion lying on his back on the deck.

"Lion armor, blond hair… You are another Lannister. It seems nobility in Westeros has all gone to shit if a dwarf decides what is right for you."

"Well…"

"I have a better idea. I'll take your ship, kill your crew and keep you as my hostages until Twyin Lannister pays us a ransom."

"Not a good idea."

"And why is that?"

"Because Tywin Lannister hates me. He will pay you no ransom."

"Fine, then I will keep the other Lannister, the one he doesn't hate and I will kill you too."

"I'm pretty sure he hates that one too. Either way, if you are so willing to kill me, at least grant me a last wish."

"What?"

"Let me drink wine, for the last time. I have in my quarters the best Arbor wine you can possibly imagine."

"Fine, let none say that I am merciless."

"Thank you, captain. Emm, be kind and bring the special wine from my room, please. I am going to die soon!"

"F…Fine!"

Emmon went to Tyrion's room and brought a barrel of wine big enough to sate an entire ship.

"Me first, dwarf!"

"Of course, captain."

Captain Khorros drank a jug of wine from the barrel.

"Hah! This is amazing! Pure Arbor wine! You can't drink this one, little man. This is ours now. Aerr, tell the boys to come here, all of them. We are taking this ship and we are going to drink their wine. Then, we kill them!"

Almost a hundred men boarded the Laughing Lion. Emmon Frey trembled while Gerion and Tyrion were tied by the mast. Captain Garon Flowers was unconscious, on the floor, being drunk, like half of the Lion's crew. The pirates were drinking until they finished the entire cask of Arbor wine.

"Delicious! I can feel it inside me! You Westerosi know how to make wine, I'll give you that!"

"Yes, it's a talent of ours. You see, every place in this world has its own thing. Casterly Rock has gold, the Arbor wine, the Braavosi money and the Lysene poison."

"And whores!"

"And whores, but especially poison. Just as there are many different types of wine, Dornish, Arbor, from Summer Isles, you know, there are different types of poison too. Especially in Lys. The tears of Lys are one. And I know of another one, the strangler. But there is one particular type of poison I heard only recently about."

The sun started to rise, filling the sky with warm light. The sea wasn't black anymore. Captain Khorros felt something wrong, and not only him. Suddenly, all of his men were vomiting blood.

"What… have you done?"

Khorros fell on his knees, holding on his abdomen. He felt dizzy and tired, but the pain was immense.

"You… fucking…"

After a few minutes, only he was conscious. Every other crew member he had was dead, in a pool of blood. Tyrion was shocked. He hadn't realized the lethal potential of that cask of wine. He killed almost a hundred people. But he had too. Otherwise, they would have killed them. He felt remorse, but he also felt peace.

"Enjoy your last sunrise, captain."