Survival
Tyrion POV
The hot, arid air of Dorne felt suffocating. It was far worse than King's Landing, and the people here claimed it was getting cooler. My sweat-covered body would disagree. This was not a place where I could tread lightly. But I had to say they were holding back on their wine; the Dornish red had never tasted so good.
"My lord, we shouldn't be drinking right now," Podrick said as he took my sweet red away. "We won't have enough to buy food if we keep this up."
"You can take away whores from me, Podrick, but wine is my blood."
"You don't need that much blood, my lord."
"You're getting clever," I had to give him that. "Still, I already paid for this bottle, so throwing it away would be a waste."
"My lord, please."
"Fine, it will be the last bottle for today."
In the end, Podrick couldn't stop me, but our gold pouch could. Securing a ship to Sunspear was far more complicated than I anticipated. Sure, enough gold can buy anything, but with my limited funds, I was nearly at the breaking point. Damn, those pirates! With the war raging on the mainland, the pirates from the Stepstones had become bolder than ever.
Naturally, the sailors exploited the situation, too, overpricing their services. Well, I couldn't blame them; what they did was quite smart. Rather than fight the pirates, they used the extra to pay them off. The pirates were happy, the sailors didn't suffer too much, and they could still make their journeys.
"I don't think your plan is working, my lord."
"Patience, boy," I replied. "It's only been a few weeks. The Martells are notorious for their cautiousness, especially Prince Doran. My name has probably reached him long ago, and the only reason he isn't taking me to his palace is that he wants to know more than just my name. He's the type who likes to hold all the advantages before meeting someone."
"That may be, my lord, but I don't think we'll survive long enough at this rate."
"Don't worry, nothing will happen to us," I was confident in that. "His men are watching us; they wouldn't let anything happen to us. Well, to me. You are of little concern to him. And since he wants to learn about me, I also need time to uncover some things about him."
Though getting a clear picture was challenging due to all the rumors swirling around, I couldn't tell which were the most outlandish. Yet somehow, I didn't doubt any of them. The idea of a Targaryen return was laughed at, but I knew what I had seen. Those banners were undoubtedly of dragons. Yet, I couldn't understand why they decided to hide themselves almost immediately afterward.
Many reasons come to mind as to why that is. After showing up so boldly and defeating Stannis, I thought we would hear more about their actions. But that wasn't how it went. Did failing to kill Stannis represent such a significant loss for them that they had no choice but to lay low? If so, then they are nothing to worry about.
As strong as the Golden Company was, they will be dealt with ruthlessly. They already lost their momentum. They should have announced themselves as some sort of saviors who came to restore order in these chaotic times. I'm sure many would have rallied to them, and by using Stannis's defeat, they could have established their reputation and authenticity.
On the other hand, the rumors of Theon Greyjoy were much more concerning. The Black King has wed the Mother of Dragons. Normally, I wouldn't care for tales about dragons, but this time it felt different. Unless it was the greatest mummers' show in history, the existence of dragons seemed more likely. Especially when so many claimed to see them.
Yet, I was just one of the few who thought that way. After all, believing in dragons implies that there's no reason not to believe in the White Walkers. A few rumors were coming from the North, but King Stark's acquisition of an army of wildlings was more than confirmed. Then, the reason why the wildlings knelt to a Stark King came to light as well. After all, why would they keep the Wall manned when the danger from that part of the world has already passed?
If the Starks weren't playing some grand game with the rest of the world, it would seem that winter is fucking coming indeed. When topics like that arise, rumors about a so-called bandit king tend to get pushed aside. Plus, pirates don't hold much interest next to lost heirs to the Iron Throne, dragons, and white walkers.
Well, in the end, I could only come to one conclusion from all of this: the world is fucked. We all are fucked. And Theon Greyjoy hasn't even returned. When he does, I wonder how much more we can get fucked. I should really thank Tywin and Cersei, I guess. I got out of that shithole before I was fucked. Too bad for them. I was a bit petty and will fuck them up for what they did to me.
"My lord, I think you've had enough."
"Trust me, Podrick, there's no amount of wine that will be enough for me," I replied. "Have you heard anything new?"
"No, just a different variation of the same rumors."
What I wanted to hear was something about Jaime returning to King's Landing. But there was nothing, and people seemed to believe Stannis killed him. I still didn't know how to feel about what he said. Leaving him didn't seem sufficient, but I couldn't bring myself to hurt him. He was the only one I cared about; his betrayal ripped away the last shred of heart I had. Now, I don't even know what's left inside me.
"My lord."
"What is it now, Podrick? I know we don't have enough gold. I guess I just get to bed early tonight."
"Not that—look."
Look at that. The tavern I was drinking in was now getting new customers. Half a dozen men were standing there, chainmail and light plate armor protecting their chests, colorful cloaks shielding them from the sun, and spears in their hands. The yellow, orange, and red colors clearly indicated they were Martell men. It seems the prince is ready to receive me.
,,,
Water gardens are beautiful place—calming, relaxing, and harmless. I wonder if that's how Doran wants others to see him or if it's just a tactic to lower his opponent's guard. After all, even the most seasoned diplomat wouldn't feel threatened surrounded by children. I probably would have calmed down, too, if I weren't already drunk.
"Lord Lannister," said a greying man in a wheelchair as he approached me. "You made quite a name for yourself in Shadow City. Marketplaces and taverns have all been talking about the Imp of Casterly Rock. Yet even standing before you, I find it hard to believe you would come this far from home."
I dropped my disguise the moment I entered the city. I knew there was no way I could demand a meeting with the Prince, but I also knew he would be curious about me. He couldn't let me go so easily. Therefore, it was only a matter of wandering the city, and slowly people began to recognize the imp and wonder what a Lannister was doing here.
"Cut the crap," he probably waited for me to get drunk, thinking I would have a harder time hiding things from him before calling me here, but he was mistaken if he thought I had something to hide. "You know my situation. I'd be surprised if there's anyone who doesn't know."
"Accused of killing his kin, most heinous of the crimes," Doran said. "I don't think this is a new low for a Lannister or something I should have expected."
"I was proven innocent before the gods themselves. I'm sure your people were glad to hear how the Mountain fell. No need to thank me."
"Yes, I felt relieved to hear it, even if I wished him to die before my eyes, slowly and painfully. But the pursuit of vengeance never ends well, my dear lord. It seems justice finds its way to those who deserve it. Now, will you tell me why you came to see me, Lord Lannister?"
There was a saying I liked: eyes do not lie. As a child, I wanted to learn how to read others' eyes. But I found it difficult to look into their eyes because all I could see reflected was disgust and hatred toward me. At other times, I refused to believe what I saw, just as I dismissed the pity and guilt in Jaime's eyes.
"I just want to survive," I told the Prince, who regarded me with no emotion whatsoever. "I have nowhere to go, no one to turn to. No gold, nothing. Only one loyal fool who won't leave me, no matter how harshly I treat him."
"So, you come to me with nothing to offer?" Doran appeared amused, but it was hard to tell. "And what exactly do you want in return?"
"What rightfully belongs to me," I replied. "I want Casterly Rock and the Westerlands. And I aim to take them from the cold, dead hands of Tywin Lannister."
"A golden seat for nothing in return?" Doran observed the last children leaving the Water Gardens as night quickly descended upon them. "In Dorne, days are scorching. Like our people, we like to let our feelings burn hot. But night descends swiftly, bringing only darkness and cold."
His words were true. Just as the sun disappeared on the horizon, I felt a chilling cold creep over me. It quickly cooled my head, but my hatred for my father still burned hot. I understood what he wanted to convey. Even if our emotions steer us, we should act with cool heads and think before we act. That is something I could agree with, as otherwise, there was no way I could beat Tywin in this game.
"I offer myself. All the secrets I know. All the knowledge I've acquired. All the intellect I have nurtured. In return, I want the golden seat with Tywin Lannister lying dead at my feet."
"Many come to me wanting something in return with promises. But you don't promise me anything. You don't lie or hide anything, do you? If so, I can guess why, even with nothing, you still have someone following you so faithfully. Come with me. We have much to discuss."
The large man with a powerful, broad build pushed Doran's chair inside the palace. His long axe was visible and threatening enough to deter anyone from doing something foolish. Podrick was waiting for me here, surrounded by beautiful, exotic servants, probably trying to get information out of the boy.
"Father, I was about to come for you." I looked at the Princess of Dorne, who wore a long dress that covered most of her body, leaving only her arms exposed. "You shouldn't stay in the cold for so long."
"Arianne, I'd like you to meet Lord Tyrion Lannister," Doran introduced me.
"My pleasure to make your acquaintance," I bowed slightly.
"I should commend your bravery for coming to us on your own," the Princess greeted me, far colder than her father. "But I suppose you should be glad my uncle is away at the moment. Otherwise, a spear would already be sticking from one end to the other."
"Is that how we treat our guests?"
"Apologies, Father," the Princess said, taking the guard's place in pushing the chair for Doran. "Since my father invited you inside, he has accepted your proposal."
"Arianne, I wanted him to worry a bit more before confirming it."
"If only time allowed us to do as we wished, Father," the Princess replied. "We need to use him while he still has some value."
I wouldn't say I liked how they talked about me as if I didn't even exist, but I didn't expect a better reception. In the end, I was nothing but a tool. It was up to them how to use me. But before I could think about it, I noticed something—something I didn't know what to make of: the Princess had a swollen belly. The question was, who was the father for her not to use moon tea?
A.N. I am going mad at the moment. Fucking neighbors are renovating their apartment. What is there to drill nonstop for eight hours? A fucking tunnel to earth core? Or did they find gold vein in their walls?