Tyrion is alive. Not that you actually thought he drowned or anything. He dreams of the Shrouded Lord, ruler of the Stone Men. Only in his dream, the Shrouded Lord has the face of his father.
He wakes up, back aboard the Shy Maid.
Haldon: Ah, welcome back to the land of the living.
Tyrion: Where… what?... Ughh… my mouth tastes like blood.
Haldon: Yeah, Jon Connington jumped in and saved your life. Who knows why he even bothered? You were half dead. Most of us said that we should through you back in, lest we risk getting infected by the Greyscale ourselves. But the young Prince forbade it.
Tyrion: SHIT! GREYSCALE!
Tyrion frantically begins to check his body. Did the Stone Man touch his skin directly? Or did he only have contact with his clothes?
Haldon: I have tested you for signs of Greyscale, but I have seen none. So far. Who knows. You swallowed a lot of water out there. Water full of Stone Men. Maybe it’s inside of you, slowly turning your insides to stone in a way we can’t see. It takes years. You’ll need to keep checking for the rest of your life.
Tyrion: Well, aren’t you just a cheery deer? I’m going to ignore everything after your first sentence and tell myself that all you meant to say was “I have tested you for signs of Greyscale, but I have seen none.” So where the hell are we? Our boat seems to be still.
Haldon: We have docked at Selhorys. The people in town are worried about a possible incoming attack by the Dothraki. We must have caution before we proceed further. There are Volantis warships everywhere.
Tyrion gets up and begins walking around. He sees Septa Lemore, only she is now in disguise and is not dressed as a Septa.
Tyrion: Hrm. Are you actually a Septa now disguised as a common woman… or is it the Septa persona which was always the disguise? Pretty much everyone on this ship had false identities, myself included.
Aegon: I’m so annoyed that we have to stay on this ship. Can’t we just go?
Haldon: No. Did you not hear anything I just said about the Dothraki and Volantis warships?
Tyrion: Come, “Young Griff,” I know this must be boring to you. Let’s play some cyvasse to pass the time.
And so the two over to the other side of the deck to play some chess. Of course, Tyrion uses this as an opportunity for more strategic conversation.
Tyrion: Hrm. Bold move you made there. Rash. I’m going to interpret your moves in this board game as tactics that your armies would use on the battlefield.
Aegon: Why? We’re just playing a board game. The two have nothing to do with each other.
Tyrion: According to chess players they do. Pretentious-ass chess players believe that you can interpret a person’s entire personality based on how they play this game.
Aegon: Well, that’s just dumb.
Tyrion: I have a question about this plan… to just show up to Queen Daenerys, announce that you’re her long-lost nephew, marry her, and move on. First of all, what makes you think Dany will believe you even are Aegon? Aegon had his head bashed against a wall and—
Aegon: —That wasn’t me! That was some boy from the pisswater who I was swapped out with.
Tyrion: So be it. Whatever. Let’s say maybe she does believe you. She thought she would be queen herself. Now she has a rival – you. Someone with a stronger claim. Someone who just shows up and demands to marry her. From what I hear, this Dany is Aegon the Conqueror, but with boobs. And by the way, I've heard a lot about her, apparently. In this chapter, I will ramble off all sorts of knowledge about the life incidents, personality, and temperament of Daenerys Targaryen. All this despite never having met her and despite the fact that the people of Westeros only have a hazy, vague notion of what's been going on in Essos. The statements I make about Dany in this chapter are very overly accurate and specific, almost as if I was an omnipotent character. Not to criticize the writing in this chapter or anything.
Aegon: Eh, all that “working on the alliance” stuff is Lord Connington’s duty. He’ll figure it out. He’s good with that kind of stuff.
Tyrion: Is he now? If I were you… I wouldn’t trust anyone.
Aegon: Well then I shouldn’t trust you.
Tyrion: That’s the smartest thing you’ve said the whole time I’ve been with you. If I might… suggest an alternative plan to the one that Jon Connington, Varys, and Illyrio have conceived.
Aegon: I’m listening.
Tyrion: Once you get to your ships and reach the Golden Company… have your ships sail west, not east. Go to Dorne where your mother Elia is from. They will rally around Elia’s son and the true heir to the throne. There has never been a better time to strike than NOW. Right now, there is a small boy sitting on the throne and my sister, Cersei, rules. She is incompetent and overly full of herself. She alienates everyone she knows. And yet, presently, the people of Westeros have no valid alternative to her. Oh, Stannis Baratheon is still around but nobody loves him. Years from now, things could be different. But now… the Iron Throne is ripe for the picking! People will come to you in flocks.
Aegon: Hrmm. I dunno. Is my army big enough? Even if people come to us in flocks. I was sort of hoping that Danerys’s forces would join with ours.
Tyrion: Why go to the Queen? Make her come to you. When she learns that her dear nephew, Aegon Targaryen, is alive and well and has returned to Dorne to claim the Seven Kingdoms… who knows what her initial reaction will be. Maybe she will be pleased to hear that another Targayen lives, or maybe she will be angry that she has a rival. Either way, it will be YOU who is in the position of power then. If you go to her, it will be as a beggar asking for marriage to make yourself stronger. But if you get the jump on her first… then it will need to be her that comes to you in order to catch-up. If any of the stories we hear about her are true… she is a rescuer. She recues people and slaves. She will come to “rescue” you too. It might even be her that proposes the marriage alliance in that case when she arrives. Oh, and also… CHECKMATE.
Aegon looks down at the board. Indeed, Tyrion has defeated him. He knocks over the board in anger.
Tyrion: Hahahah, I guess that you really ARE a Targaryen.
Conveniently, just as the game is done, others arrive so that the narrative can move forward with additional plot developments.
Jon Connington: I am not hearing good news. It seems as if Volantis might soon join the war against Dany. But there is somone who will know more information for sure, a Customs officer named Qavo in the city. Haldon, Tyrion… go find him and see what he might now.
And so the two head out to meet the Customs officer.
Tyrion: This is gonna be like a buddy comedy!
Haldon: No, it’s not.
Along they way, they run into a High Priest, Benerro, who is preaching about you-know-who…
Benerro: The Queen in Meereen, Daenerys! She is the breaker of chains and fights for freedom. Not just freedom from chains, but the freedom of our souls! For she is the Prince that was Promised! She is Azor Ahai reborn!
Tyrion: Nifty. Now how are we going to find this Qavo guy?
They reach a giant sign which says “Customs Office.”
Tyrion: Oh, never mind.
Qavo: What’s up? Who the hell are you two assholes?
Haldon: Griff sent us. Or maybe you know him as Jon Connington. Whatever, he tells us that you can tell us stuff about Dany and this war.
Qavo: Ah yes. The city thirsts for war against the dragon queen. She is apparently a horrible monster with an appetite for sex and murder than cannot be satiated.
Tyrion: Well, according to her enemies. Which are all slave-owners who she liberated slaves from.
Qavo: True. But I also heard it on Fox News.
Tyrion and Haldon give a knowing glance at one another.
Qavo: That Benerro should keep his mouth shut about supporting the dragon queen, unless he wants trouble.
Tyrion: Is that all? Is that why we were sent to see this Qavo guy? Just to have him repeat some BS nonsense he heard from Fox News?
Haldon: I guess.
Tyrion: Ugh. What a pain in the ass. OH HEY LOOK! This city has whorehouses too! Over there.
Next to the Customs Office is a sign that says “Whores.” It’s quite convenient and direct to the point.
Tyrion: Hrm. “Wherever Whores Go.” Perhaps this is where my beloved Tysha wound up. It’s been so long. I… I… I just need to be with a woman again.
Haldon: Whatever dude. *checks watch* Just be quick about it.
Tyrion walks in to the whorehouse.
Tyrion: Hey, is Tysha here?
Madame: (in broken common tongue) I don’t know anyone by that name.
Tyrion: Oh, I married her like a ton of years ago back in Westeros. Then my father found out and made bunch of Lannister soldiers run a train on her. Then they told me a lie that she was a whore (which I believed for several years) and sent her away.
Madame: No. Why would a Westerosi woman from a ton of years ago be randomly here in an Selhorys whorehouse half-way across the world… simply because your father lied about her being a whore when she wasn’t?
Tyrion: You make valid points.
Madame: So do you want to see a whore or not? You know, one of the ones that we ACTUALLY have? How about that one there…
She points to one that is clearly from Westeros.
Tyrion: Dafuq? I’m white… and, like, every whore in here is not white except for that one you pointed to. That’s pretty racist. Why you gotta assume I wanted the white one?
Madame: So you DON’T want the white one?
Tyrion: *sigh*… No, I actually do want the white one. And wine. A whole bunch of wine. As much wine as you have.
So Tyrion goes up and has unsatisfying, awkward, brief sexual intercourse with a Westerosi girl (who speaks none of the common tongue because she was obviously kidnapped and sold into sexual slavery at a young age) and gets COMPLETELY SHITFACED. When he’s done, he stumbles down the stairs.
Tyrion: Ughh… my head hurts.
Voice: IMP!
Tyrion: Huh? What? Who is calling me that? That’s not my name. I’m “Hugor Hill.”
He looks up, and sees a Westerosi man, wearing a bear on his surcoat. He sits on the lap of a hooker who looks nearly identical to Daenerys.
Tyrion: Oh wow, that girl is hot looking. If I had seen her, I would have picked her instead of that poor sex-trafficked girl I was with. It’s good to see someone who speaks the common tongue! Have a drink with me!
Jorah Mormont: I’ve drunk enough.
He pushes his whore aside and pulls out his sword.
Jorah: I’m going to deliver you… TO THE QUEEN!
Tyrion: Yeah, but there are multiple ones. To which are you referring?
He wakes up, back aboard the Shy Maid.
Haldon: Ah, welcome back to the land of the living.
Tyrion: Where… what?... Ughh… my mouth tastes like blood.
Haldon: Yeah, Jon Connington jumped in and saved your life. Who knows why he even bothered? You were half dead. Most of us said that we should through you back in, lest we risk getting infected by the Greyscale ourselves. But the young Prince forbade it.
Tyrion: SHIT! GREYSCALE!
Tyrion frantically begins to check his body. Did the Stone Man touch his skin directly? Or did he only have contact with his clothes?
Haldon: I have tested you for signs of Greyscale, but I have seen none. So far. Who knows. You swallowed a lot of water out there. Water full of Stone Men. Maybe it’s inside of you, slowly turning your insides to stone in a way we can’t see. It takes years. You’ll need to keep checking for the rest of your life.
Tyrion: Well, aren’t you just a cheery deer? I’m going to ignore everything after your first sentence and tell myself that all you meant to say was “I have tested you for signs of Greyscale, but I have seen none.” So where the hell are we? Our boat seems to be still.
Haldon: We have docked at Selhorys. The people in town are worried about a possible incoming attack by the Dothraki. We must have caution before we proceed further. There are Volantis warships everywhere.
Tyrion gets up and begins walking around. He sees Septa Lemore, only she is now in disguise and is not dressed as a Septa.
Tyrion: Hrm. Are you actually a Septa now disguised as a common woman… or is it the Septa persona which was always the disguise? Pretty much everyone on this ship had false identities, myself included.
Aegon: I’m so annoyed that we have to stay on this ship. Can’t we just go?
Haldon: No. Did you not hear anything I just said about the Dothraki and Volantis warships?
Tyrion: Come, “Young Griff,” I know this must be boring to you. Let’s play some cyvasse to pass the time.
And so the two over to the other side of the deck to play some chess. Of course, Tyrion uses this as an opportunity for more strategic conversation.
Tyrion: Hrm. Bold move you made there. Rash. I’m going to interpret your moves in this board game as tactics that your armies would use on the battlefield.
Aegon: Why? We’re just playing a board game. The two have nothing to do with each other.
Tyrion: According to chess players they do. Pretentious-ass chess players believe that you can interpret a person’s entire personality based on how they play this game.
Aegon: Well, that’s just dumb.
Tyrion: I have a question about this plan… to just show up to Queen Daenerys, announce that you’re her long-lost nephew, marry her, and move on. First of all, what makes you think Dany will believe you even are Aegon? Aegon had his head bashed against a wall and—
Aegon: —That wasn’t me! That was some boy from the pisswater who I was swapped out with.
Tyrion: So be it. Whatever. Let’s say maybe she does believe you. She thought she would be queen herself. Now she has a rival – you. Someone with a stronger claim. Someone who just shows up and demands to marry her. From what I hear, this Dany is Aegon the Conqueror, but with boobs. And by the way, I've heard a lot about her, apparently. In this chapter, I will ramble off all sorts of knowledge about the life incidents, personality, and temperament of Daenerys Targaryen. All this despite never having met her and despite the fact that the people of Westeros only have a hazy, vague notion of what's been going on in Essos. The statements I make about Dany in this chapter are very overly accurate and specific, almost as if I was an omnipotent character. Not to criticize the writing in this chapter or anything.
Aegon: Eh, all that “working on the alliance” stuff is Lord Connington’s duty. He’ll figure it out. He’s good with that kind of stuff.
Tyrion: Is he now? If I were you… I wouldn’t trust anyone.
Aegon: Well then I shouldn’t trust you.
Tyrion: That’s the smartest thing you’ve said the whole time I’ve been with you. If I might… suggest an alternative plan to the one that Jon Connington, Varys, and Illyrio have conceived.
Aegon: I’m listening.
Tyrion: Once you get to your ships and reach the Golden Company… have your ships sail west, not east. Go to Dorne where your mother Elia is from. They will rally around Elia’s son and the true heir to the throne. There has never been a better time to strike than NOW. Right now, there is a small boy sitting on the throne and my sister, Cersei, rules. She is incompetent and overly full of herself. She alienates everyone she knows. And yet, presently, the people of Westeros have no valid alternative to her. Oh, Stannis Baratheon is still around but nobody loves him. Years from now, things could be different. But now… the Iron Throne is ripe for the picking! People will come to you in flocks.
Aegon: Hrmm. I dunno. Is my army big enough? Even if people come to us in flocks. I was sort of hoping that Danerys’s forces would join with ours.
Tyrion: Why go to the Queen? Make her come to you. When she learns that her dear nephew, Aegon Targaryen, is alive and well and has returned to Dorne to claim the Seven Kingdoms… who knows what her initial reaction will be. Maybe she will be pleased to hear that another Targayen lives, or maybe she will be angry that she has a rival. Either way, it will be YOU who is in the position of power then. If you go to her, it will be as a beggar asking for marriage to make yourself stronger. But if you get the jump on her first… then it will need to be her that comes to you in order to catch-up. If any of the stories we hear about her are true… she is a rescuer. She recues people and slaves. She will come to “rescue” you too. It might even be her that proposes the marriage alliance in that case when she arrives. Oh, and also… CHECKMATE.
Aegon looks down at the board. Indeed, Tyrion has defeated him. He knocks over the board in anger.
Tyrion: Hahahah, I guess that you really ARE a Targaryen.
Conveniently, just as the game is done, others arrive so that the narrative can move forward with additional plot developments.
Jon Connington: I am not hearing good news. It seems as if Volantis might soon join the war against Dany. But there is somone who will know more information for sure, a Customs officer named Qavo in the city. Haldon, Tyrion… go find him and see what he might now.
And so the two head out to meet the Customs officer.
Tyrion: This is gonna be like a buddy comedy!
Haldon: No, it’s not.
Along they way, they run into a High Priest, Benerro, who is preaching about you-know-who…
Benerro: The Queen in Meereen, Daenerys! She is the breaker of chains and fights for freedom. Not just freedom from chains, but the freedom of our souls! For she is the Prince that was Promised! She is Azor Ahai reborn!
Tyrion: Nifty. Now how are we going to find this Qavo guy?
They reach a giant sign which says “Customs Office.”
Tyrion: Oh, never mind.
Qavo: What’s up? Who the hell are you two assholes?
Haldon: Griff sent us. Or maybe you know him as Jon Connington. Whatever, he tells us that you can tell us stuff about Dany and this war.
Qavo: Ah yes. The city thirsts for war against the dragon queen. She is apparently a horrible monster with an appetite for sex and murder than cannot be satiated.
Tyrion: Well, according to her enemies. Which are all slave-owners who she liberated slaves from.
Qavo: True. But I also heard it on Fox News.
Tyrion and Haldon give a knowing glance at one another.
Qavo: That Benerro should keep his mouth shut about supporting the dragon queen, unless he wants trouble.
Tyrion: Is that all? Is that why we were sent to see this Qavo guy? Just to have him repeat some BS nonsense he heard from Fox News?
Haldon: I guess.
Tyrion: Ugh. What a pain in the ass. OH HEY LOOK! This city has whorehouses too! Over there.
Next to the Customs Office is a sign that says “Whores.” It’s quite convenient and direct to the point.
Tyrion: Hrm. “Wherever Whores Go.” Perhaps this is where my beloved Tysha wound up. It’s been so long. I… I… I just need to be with a woman again.
Haldon: Whatever dude. *checks watch* Just be quick about it.
Tyrion walks in to the whorehouse.
Tyrion: Hey, is Tysha here?
Madame: (in broken common tongue) I don’t know anyone by that name.
Tyrion: Oh, I married her like a ton of years ago back in Westeros. Then my father found out and made bunch of Lannister soldiers run a train on her. Then they told me a lie that she was a whore (which I believed for several years) and sent her away.
Madame: No. Why would a Westerosi woman from a ton of years ago be randomly here in an Selhorys whorehouse half-way across the world… simply because your father lied about her being a whore when she wasn’t?
Tyrion: You make valid points.
Madame: So do you want to see a whore or not? You know, one of the ones that we ACTUALLY have? How about that one there…
She points to one that is clearly from Westeros.
Tyrion: Dafuq? I’m white… and, like, every whore in here is not white except for that one you pointed to. That’s pretty racist. Why you gotta assume I wanted the white one?
Madame: So you DON’T want the white one?
Tyrion: *sigh*… No, I actually do want the white one. And wine. A whole bunch of wine. As much wine as you have.
So Tyrion goes up and has unsatisfying, awkward, brief sexual intercourse with a Westerosi girl (who speaks none of the common tongue because she was obviously kidnapped and sold into sexual slavery at a young age) and gets COMPLETELY SHITFACED. When he’s done, he stumbles down the stairs.
Tyrion: Ughh… my head hurts.
Voice: IMP!
Tyrion: Huh? What? Who is calling me that? That’s not my name. I’m “Hugor Hill.”
He looks up, and sees a Westerosi man, wearing a bear on his surcoat. He sits on the lap of a hooker who looks nearly identical to Daenerys.
Tyrion: Oh wow, that girl is hot looking. If I had seen her, I would have picked her instead of that poor sex-trafficked girl I was with. It’s good to see someone who speaks the common tongue! Have a drink with me!
Jorah Mormont: I’ve drunk enough.
He pushes his whore aside and pulls out his sword.
Jorah: I’m going to deliver you… TO THE QUEEN!
Tyrion: Yeah, but there are multiple ones. To which are you referring?
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