The Game of Thrones

TYRION IV

"Gods, how many godforsaken days do we have left on this hellhole," Tyrion whined. He hated the constant rocking of the waves against the ship for it always made him spill his wine on himself.

Three moons had almost passed since they left for the Iron Islands, and now they were almost back to Dragonstone. Taking too fucking long.

"We will arrive today, my Lord," Varys offered as he sipped on some wine.

Tyrion gave a toast to that. "Thank the gods. I think if I spent another day aboard this ship, I would lose my mind."

"Who says you already haven't?" the spider challenged playfully.

He nodded slightly. "Maybe I have," he agreed. "If someone told me five years ago I'd be serving the most beautiful woman in the world as Hand of the Queen and preparing to attack my sister and an army of dead men, I would've said you were mad."

"I think we all would," Varys consoled. "However, even if someone did tell you, you were so drunk and with so many whores you wouldn't have even had the time to comprehend it."

Tyrion shrugged in defeat. "This is true. It seems like my luck with women has drastically decreased with age."

Varys chuckled. "Haven't we all."

"Not Jon Snow."

Varys raised his eyebrow carefully. "King Jon now."

"Right," Tyrion said as he circled the rim of his wine glass with his finger. "King Jon."

He could see Varys giving him a look of pity, but he shook it off. "The Bastard of Winterfell who hated his life and the world who now is married to the most beautiful woman and also happens to be the rightful king of Westeros," he said with a bit of bitterness in his voice. "Quite a fairytale ending if I do say so myself."

As much as he admired and loved that boy, he couldn't hide his slight feelings of jealousy of him. What it would be like to have the affections of our Queen...

"How about you, Grey Worm?" Varys suddenly asked in order to change the attention from him to someone else. "Are you excited to land after three very long moons?"

The soldier looked over blankly. "I see Missandei of Naath," Grey Worm said with a slight smile.

At least I think it's a smile; he doesn't smile much.

"Well, at least someone is having good luck with women," Tyrion offered. "Perhaps I should try men."

"I'm sure you and your wallet would be very desirable, my Lord," Varys replied with a sleek smile.

Tyrion rolled his eyes. But before he could come up with a clever comeback, they heard a sudden crash, and the boat rocked uncharacteristically sharp. What the seven hells was that?

He exchanged glances eyes Varys, and then Grey Worm.

Boom.

There it was again. Now the ship was rocking so heavily booked and various belongings cave crashing down on the wooden floor. Tyrion's sure widened as he looked towards the steps to get up on the main deck. I don't want to go, but I need to see what's happening.

Therefore, he unglued his feet from his position and wobbled over to the stairway. The ship was rocking so violently that it was difficult to keep himself upright, but he managed to grab the railing. Varys and Grey Worm followed quickly after him, and when he reached the deck, he wanted to go back below.

For hundreds of black and gold ships were heading their direction that were not members of the Targaryen fleet. The sails bared the sigil of the standard House Greyjoy heraldry of a kraken on black, but the kraken had a third red eye inscribed onto its head. Euron Greyjoy.

"EVERYONE TAKE COVER!" he heard Davos yell from the helm.

But it was already too late.

Tyrion saw the men loading the scorpions again with arrows on the front of the decks, and they were aimed right towards them. And the next thing he knew, the arrows came crashing into the sides of the ship. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Tyrion from one side of the ship to another, as if searching for a safe spot to stay afloat. But it was no use; the ship was going down. He watched as Euron kept shooting arrows into the ships nearby, completely destroying them. Screams filled the air as soldiers fell into the water while others got crushed by the massive wreckage falling down from the sky. However, that wasn't nearly as horrible as when the evil captain bared his yellow, crooked teeth before taking flaming arrows and setting the ships afire.

Now the smell of burning flesh he knew all too well from Dany's dragons filled the air as he watched in horror people jumping into the water while burning alive in an ill-fated attempt to save themselves.

"We need to get off this ship," he insisted to Davos.

The sailor nodded. "ABANDON SHIP!" he shouted, but the scene was so chaotic no one was really listening. It's everyone for themselves at this point.

Tyrion barely dodged a falling poll as he crossed to the other side of the boat before taking a deep breath and jumping into the water. But even that was completely safe as some chemicals leaked out and set the top of the water ablaze too. He frantically turned to see Grey Worm swimming for the beach.

We can make it. It's not that far.

But then he looked again at the island that seemed a lot further away now.

Who the fuck am I kidding? I can't swim that far!

He laughed at his fate. Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen, died drowning because his fat ass couldn't swim far enough.

Nothing troubled him more than the chance of being remembered this way, so he gritted his teeth and followed the Unsullied soldier to shore. He managed to grab ahold of a piece of wood floating by which greatly decreased the amount of effort he had to do. Tyrion wiped his eyes briefly before looking around to see if he saw anyone else escaping alive, and to his surprise, he did. Davos was splashing his way through the madness along with Yara and the rest of the Unsullied. Thank the gods we didn't seem to lose too many people.

That was when he heard the roar of Drogon above the island, and his heart clenched in fear. Even though he was nowhere near him, he could see Euron smiling at the chance to kill one of the Queen's dragons. Especially the largest one.

He knew Euron wasn't completely stupid — he knew that by attacking them, it would lure Dany out in a vulnerable emotional state. To make it easy to kill them.

He just started praying to himself for Jon to stop her. No Dany. Don't come save us. Don't risk Drogon. Please don't do this. Jon please stop her; you're the only one who can.

He kept on repeating this to himself, half expecting the dragon would come flying out any second, but it never did.

Thank the gods. Thank you Jon for most likely talking sense into her.

After a few more strokes, Tyrion finally made it to the beach, coughing and spitting up seawater. He rolled over onto his back and breathed deeply as he heard more and more survivors come ashore coughing just like he did. He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath, but his heart was still racing so fast. I could've almost died. I almost actually did die. Holy fuck.

But he barely had a moment to comprehend what just happened before the maesters arrived to give medical care. One came over and started patching the arm he didn't even know was bleeding before Tyrion shook them off.

"I'm fine," he croaked desperately. "Help the others."

The maester studied his face, but eventually nodded and scurried off to attend to the more wounded. Tyrion watched as more and more people came onto the beach: Yara, Grey Worm, Ser Davos.

The world started spinning suddenly around him as he attempted to concentrate, but it was no use. I'm too exhausted.

However, one last thought echoed in his mind before his vision turned to black:

Where is Varys?