"You ask me, if she's still alive she's on a boat, getting as far away from the city as she can."
Tyrion shook his head. Once out of the cloying atmosphere of the cellars, wandering aimlessly through the ruins with his enormous and aggravating bodyguard in tow, he realized just how tired and in urgent need of a drink he was. And as ever, felt the need to contradict the Wolf just to counter his all-knowing attitude.
"The one I'd arranged is still there. I checked."
"Arranged?"
The Wolf looked at Tyrion, his head slightly askance.
"Am I to think your brother didn't escape singlehandedly, and that you might have been involved?"
Tyrion looked the Wolf in the eye, doing his best to ignore the crass joke. If indeed it was a conscious jibe. As ever, the giant could have started a fight just by wishing good morning, but Tyrion was in no conciliatory mood.
"And if I was?"
The Wolf shrugged and leaned back against the half-melted wall of what had been a bakery.
"Yours is a strange mind, Tyrion Shield-slayer, strange and deep."
"Here you have the opportunity of avenging the innumerable wrongs your sister has done you, and in doing so fulfill the desire of your queen, your friend, as I understand it, whom you serve not out of duty, ambition or even devotion, but because you truly believe that she is the best candidate for the throne."
"And yet."
Tyrion's eye twitched at this bald-faced list of truths.
"And yet you betray your friend and queen, release a valuable hostage that she wanted dead for personal and political reasons, arrange for the escape of said sister, one of the worst queens known to your history, who deserves death a hundred times over if only for what she put you through, a thousand times for all she did to that starved woman back there, ten thousand times over for all she put her kingdom through, a hundred thousand for leaving the dead king to advance unopposed, to be punished again and again until the gods alone could see the end of the penance for her every crime."
"This is the woman you tried to save in defiance of... of everything I knew about you, really."
The Wolf paused.
"Surely you don't harbor the same feelings for her as she feels for your brother?"
"NO! No. Absolutely not."
Tyrion was standing now, walking in circles and shaking his hands. He could not have said what drove him to speak in this way.
"It wasn't for her, it was for him."
The Wolf said nothing, but his eyebrows shot up.
"He was my only friend, my entire life... and for her to die, would have killed him. And..."
Tyrion's voice cracked.
"And... I hoped... I hoped they would find their way to safety across the Narrow Sea. And there wait out the rest of their lives, away from this... this entire court, which poisoned all our lives from birth."
Again the Wolf said nothing for some time.
Finally he sighed deeply and looked at the ground for a while, as would a man making a difficult decision. Then he looked up at Tyrion.
"A heavy and unwieldy secret you carry, Shield-slayer."
"But it lies safe with me."
Tyrion stared at the giant.
"I work for you, and you for the Dragonqueen. Only if you order me to reveal it will I speak."
"What?! Why?"
The Wolf shrugged.
"Your tale is a grand one, Shield-slayer, in a way unlike any I know, always involving slaying immense beasts or great champions. I do not wish to see it end down a dragon's throat for a question of ill-judged loyalties, not when it seems about to enter its most interesting chapter."
The Wolf looked out to sea.
"I'm sure that your brother, wherever he is now, will soon meet his just and deserved reward, and see no need to refer him to the Dragonqueen for further punishment."
The Wolf hesitated.
"And..."
Tyrion looked up. The Wolf seemed to be choosing his words carefully.
"I knew a man in your situation, once. He betrayed his captain, with genuine reluctance, not for money or ambition or jealousy, but because he had been hoodwinked into thinking his heart's desire, the one thing he coveted and could not have, would be his as the price of his treason. Thanks to you, I understand better how he felt, to have wanted an unrealistic dream so badly that he threw away honor and sense... I can only hope that you turn out better than he did."
Tyrion asked the question, although he suspected he knew not only the answer but the identity of the captain in question as well.
"… How did he turn out?"
"He died a mean and honorless death, without even a weapon in his hand, abandoned by the gods, after being abandoned by men, those same men who had promised him what they had no intention of delivering. It is a fate I would wish on few people."
"And you think I will one day betray Daenerys as your man did."
The Wolf shook his head. His voice was not mocking as Tyrion expected.
"Not in the least, no. I can see it would take great personal betrayal for you to turn on those you trust in a more... permanent... fashion."
"But I do not think you are made for the courtier's life."
Tyrion's voice was defiant, despite not being far from agreeing with the Wolf.
"No? It seems to have suited me just fine."
The Wolf laughed.
"Be serious, Shield-slayer, what self-respecting man would be content with such a life, where the next day's fortune is at the whimsy of the current ruler, so easy to replace, where you will not find one man to fight you but a thousand tongues will gladly pierce you with rumor and slander? Such an environment sees vermin like that Baelish trash thrive. You have the wit to know that the only place to be is at the very top, and after that there are no friends, only erstwhile allies, to manipulate and be manipulated by in turn."
Tyrion's thoughts fell back to happier times, when his ambitions had limited themselves to a vineyard and "the Imp's Delight", a wine shared only by his friends. Where were those friends now? The rebuilding of the city would certainly take years, where would he be at its end?
Tyrion threw the barbarian an angry look. Who was he to speak so freely of the perils of court life, when he himself had probably only seen the inside of a castle to pillage it?
"And you? Are you so free of the shackles of power or its lure?"
The Wolf nodded.
"That I am. I once thought I desired kingship, it is true."
"But now, I lead the life I was destined for. I go where the gods will it, and have seen more of the world- more worlds, in fact, than any sailor or explorer before me. The men who flock to my banner do so not out of reluctant duty or to pay back a debt, but of their own free will, aware of the dangers and ready to risk them, for they know the rewards it can bring. It is a harsh life, but a free one, one where a man is judged not by his name but his deeds, not by his lineage but his worth."
"Would you like to live it, Tyrion Shield-slayer?"
Tyrion started. The Wolf's voice had strange harmonics, even now he saw himself at the Seafang's prow, staring boldly at the infinite horizon, the tang of seaspray on his lips, the chill of the wind canceled by thick furs, gripping the gunwale as the longship cut through a wave and glided towards a faraway land, its hold heavy with treasure and trophies.
He shook his head. The sea wind became a muggy heat, the gunwale returned to being a half-burned support beam, his furs were again a soot-stained jerkin.
"It is an... enticing offer, I'll admit. But..."
Tyrion sighed.
"Such dreams no longer fit me now. What little victories I have claimed in battle were by deceit and ambush, or in wars of words and diplomacy. The same tactics you despise. Had I been trained in battle, born with regular arms and legs, perhaps... Though I do not doubt your words, I must decline your offer. My fate will be a quieter one, if no less dangerous, and I am resigned to it."
The Wolf looked Tyrion in the eye and nodded solemnly.
"I understand, and accept your refusal, Shield-slayer, though the offer still stands."
A moment passed in silence.
Tyrion shook his head. So the Wolf was willing to keep secrets from Daenerys for his sake. Was this the explanation for the helmet? Had the Wolf intended it for him?
"Lord Lannister!"
Tyrion and the Wolf's head snapped around. Brienne of Tarth approached them in full armor, her hand on the hilt of her sword.
"You wished to see me?"
Grateful for the interruption and guiltily remembering that Brienne had been on his list of appointments for a far more urgent cause than digging through bricks, Tyrion quickly nodded.
"Yes I did. Ser Brienne, we need a Commander of the Queensguard, especially in Daenerys' absence. They're of little use right now, with no one to guard or tell them what to do. Will you take on that role, at least until the Queen returns?"
Brienne looked startled, the Wolf interested.
"Me? But-"
Brienne looked around her. Tyrion pressed on.
"Can you think of anyone better suited?"
"I can't."
Both looked at the Wolf.
"You can floor a Norscan without breaking a sweat, what challenge can a rabble of mere Southerlings prove to be?"
This endorsement delivered, the Wolf fell silent. Brienne turned back to Tyrion.
"Just the Queensguard? I shouldn't think they have the numbers left to protect anything. And given the scum they were hiring..."
"You'll have command over the Goldcloaks as well. Jon's doing what he can to stop the rapes and pillaging, but it's the civilians we'll have difficulty protecting against each other."
"Better to have them inside and pissing outwards than outside pissing in."
Once again Tyrion and Brienne did their best to ignore the Wolf's insulting and unfortunately accurate statement.
"And you think they will accept me without complaint."
"You are a knight of the Seven Kingdoms, created by their former Lord Commander. You were already a Kingsguard. On parchment there is little reason this should not be. So-"
"All you'll have to do is break a few noses until they get it through their heads that you lead and they follow. A delicate, feminine touch works wonders with donkeys, children and village idiots."
The Wolf laughed at his joke. Brienne breathed deeply and nodded, before looking Tyrion in the eye.
"I accept."
"Thank you!"
Tyrion looked as relieved as he felt. Jon had enough on his plate without adding even more men under his command, each with their own privileges, prerogatives and inflated sense of self-importance.
"I shall have them assembled this afternoon. Can you-"
"Lord Tyrion!"
A page ran towards them, and took a moment to catch his breath.
"Lord Tyrion! We've found the Hound!"
"You did?"
"You did?!"
Tyrion and Brienne shot a glance at the Wolf, who had exclaimed at the same time as his nominal employer. Tyrion turned back to the page.
"Where is he?"
"We took him to the sickrooms. He was unconscious when we found him. He's lost an eye, and I've seen dead men who looked healthier and less bruised, but he's alive."
The Wolf visibly relaxed.
"There's a relief."
Tyrion left his questioning of the Wolf for later.
"Where was he?"
"Halfway up the stairs to Cersei's chambers, in the Keep."
"Then he may have seen Cersei! Has he spoken? Is he awake?"
"No, my lord. He's yet to regain consciousness, though he sometimes snarls in his sleep. But the healer says he should pull through within a few days."
"I see. Thank you."
The page made to turn around, but Tyrion stopped him.
"Wait. Take a message to the barracks of the Goldcloaks and the Queensguard. Inform them that they are to report for duty at the Keep this afternoon. Their new La- Lord Commander will give them their orders."
The page ran off. Tyrion turned to the Wolf.
"You knew the Hound?"
"Enough to know that he is one of the few men who'd make a credible threat around here. I'm glad to hear he'll make it."
Brienne thought this probably counted as high praise from the Wolf.
"Even compared to his brother?"
The Wolf spat on the ground.
"That lumbering sack of manure? Bah. You saw how easily I crushed him. Weight and size may be all well and good for slaughtering sheep and peasants, but to depend solely upon them is no great feat, it takes hard work and long training to make a great warrior."
Tyrion was about to reflect on the hypocrisy of disparaging a warrior relying solely on size and strength far beyond those of ordinary men, but thought better of it. Brienne wondered if the Wolf was specifically referring to her.
"I should have liked to see him fight the rust-born."
The word made Tyrion remember the improbable link he had found between the Wolf and Euron.
Without warning, the barbarian's brow furrowed as he sniffed the air. Without so much as a goodbye or a look backwards, he immediately headed away as though on an urgent appointment.
Tyrion and Brienne watched him go.
"There he goes, my bodyguard, meant to protect my life with his own."
Brienne looked down.
"You aren't serious."
Tyrion sighed.
"No, of course not."
"Why did you even hire him?"
"To be honest, it was just as much for my safety as to keep him out of Daenerys' way. And he's proven himself useful in other ways."
"But he just goes and leaves you without even a word."
"The most flattering explanation is that he deemed you sufficient to ensure my safety."
Brienne waited a little.
"And the most likely one?"
"That he doesn't care about my safety in the slightest. He's a mystery to me. All bluff and bluster like a man three pitchers into a drinking contest one moment, a vicious calculating brute the next, and always managing to phrase his words in a manner that makes you want to punch him."
"So it's not just me."
Tyrion looked up. Weak though it was through the ash cloud, the sun was still rising in the sky, and there was still much to do.
"Ser Brienne, would you accompany me? I have some business at the River Gate, and I would like your opinion on a strategic matter."
"Certainly. What exactly?"
"I want to know why the Blackwater was left unbarred during the siege. They can't have forgotten that's what won the battle against Stannis... even if it was my idea."
Without further words they set off towards the winch towers.