𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑽𝑰𝑰

CHAPTER VII
300 AFTER CONQUEST

TYRION

The Shy Maid continued on her voyage east across the Summer Sea. Tyrion eyed the sunlight reflecting on the calm waters, silent as the Crone herself. He was hungover greatly from the previous night of drinking. Tyrion had found below decks the barrels of sweet red wine and bitter ale that tasted old like dirt, but he drank both nonetheless. I always remember, he shook his head. I drink to forget but I always remember. The last thing he really remembered of the night last was how he annoyed the Griffen Lord so much he kicked him out of his makeshift office on the ship of the Maid

"Are you used to the sailing yet, my Lord?"

A voice called to him in a medium tone from across the deck.

"Ale and wine are not good ideas to drown out the seasickness."

Coming to his side, the Lord Jon stopped as Tyrion just scoffed, ignoring the comments previous and instead answered his question.

"I've been traveling with you and the boy for some time now. What is it going on? Five weeks now?"

"That 'boy' is your King. You should address him as such."

"Until the time he proves himself a king, I'll start calling him one."

Tyrion sighed heavily, shaking his head as the former Lord of Griffen's Roost came to his side overlooking the rail of the ship. Tyrion had to stand on a crate to fully see over the side, but he didn't much care for any of the embarrassment he once felt for it. He only ever felt anger and grief now.

"He's rough around the edges, but Aegon is a good man."

"His father was smooth where he is coarse."

"But he tries."

"Tries."

Tyrion chuckled, shaking his head. The boy certainly has his moments, Tyrion chuckled.

"Everyone "tries" to be good at one point or another in their lives, ser. But in the end, all we get for our trying is grief and regret."

"And a fair share of hate."

"Oh, yes. A good deal of hate with it all, too.."

They kept close to the land, needing it more to see exactly where they were going rather than trust their gut instincts. But being so close to land while trapped on an open-aired prison floating by could drive a man insane. Having to shit in the same bucket with a crew of other men whilst the little princeling got his own. It annoyed Tyrion to no end how soft the boy was being treated. Oh how Varys and the fat Magister Illyrio went on about how the blue-haired boy was a man of the people, understanding the suffering they went through as he himself had done the same.

"Aegon the Fifth of His Name also understand their woes as well, and look where he ended up!"

"What was that?"

Tyrion hadn't noticed at first he said anything outloud, but with "Griff" looking at him now with a strange and confused look, Tyrion laughed.