What if Tyrion Lannister Wasn't a Dwarf

What if Tyrion Lannister wasn't a dwarf? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. The halls of Castly Rock go silent as Lady Joanna breathed her last. The birthing process was long and laborous, far more intense than she had expected, more than anybody had expected. Although she had given everything, she eventually succumbed to exhaustion, but was able to at last give birth to a son. Tywin can barely contain his grief as he squeezes his wife's hand one final time and closes her eyes when her chest goes still. The midwives hand him his new son, but the old lion wants nothing more than to send him away. But he cannot bring himself to do so. Not after how much his wife had worked to bring him into this world. The baby is small, but not overly so. He has his siblings same golden hair, same green eyes, and the same whale that rattles the hall. It would have been a baby that countless parents would have been proud to have. Just not Tywin. All he sees when he looks at this infant is a murderer. The boy who killed his mother as he came out of the womb. Beautiful as Tyrion is, Tywin never accepts him. His appearing as normal as he does is just another insult, a poisoned gift from the gods to mock him. As he grows up, Tyrion feels neither love nor acceptance from his father. He is tolerated, but Tywin makes it clear from the start that his acceptance in House Lannister runs no deeper than what he can provide. Praise or respect is only reserved for what the youngest Lannister can accomplish. At first, the boy throws himself into sword play, striking to become just like his older brother, Jaime. While he shows some aptitude for sword play and combat, he never excels at it, never to the same level as the king's slayer. Whatever kind words his brother has to encourage him to keep training or drown out by the look of disappointment that Tywin provides. Though Tyrion continues to train with his weapons, he turns his attention to somewhere he can excel. While Jaime is without question the better warrior, Tyrion proves to be the better administrator. He develops a love for books at an early age, and this fills him with a fire for learning. Whether it be the histories, administration, or philosophy, he eagerly devours the books. And Tywin does offer some praise. They are few and far between, doing little more than acknowledging Tyrion's knowledge. Yet Tyrion lives for them. It continues to feed a hope he has that he may eventually be accepted by his father. This only grows when Jaime is named a member of the King's Guard, leaving him unable to inherit Castle Rock. This means that Tyrion is now his father's heir, or at least he should be. Yet, Tywin never officially acknowledges it, or even discusses it. He continues to act as though Jaime will continue to be his heir. That is not to say that Tywin does not change. He does begin to give Tyrion more responsibilities, but even these efforts are made reluctantly and seem to have a mocking nature behind them. Rather than teach him to rule Castle Rock or meet with his most trusted allies, Tyrion is simply sent off to do the tasks Tywin deems beneath him. He is sent to meet with small folk, visit villages, or help maintain their castle. All of these jobs are seen as beneath the ruler of the Westerlands. And it is during one of these missions to visit a nearby village that Tyrion meets the love of his life, Tasha. The girl was beset by bandits, but Tyrion managed to save her. The two of them marry in secret, but Tywin soon gets word of this and forces them to break apart, punishing Tasha and claiming she was a [ __ ] who was sent by him to help Tyrion lose his virginity, a gift, he claims. To prove his point, he has Tasha sleep with the entire garrison as Tyrion is made to watch and show why he cannot marry commoners. But Tyrion doesn't view it as a gift. He watches his father as Tasha is forced to leave. And he feels his anger brewing. He had seen how Tasha looked at him, not as a failure or a disappointment, but with compassion and love. She saw him as only a boy who had helped protect her, and she loved him for it. And there stands his father, cold and uninterested. Even in this matter, it still seems to be beneath his notice. He had just ripped that all away from him, tearing away the fantasy in his head. Tywin barely even says a word as he announces he will head to King's Landing for business with Robert. Not even giving his son a second glance. He marches off. With that, the hope of holding Castle Rock vanishes in an instant. As does any expectation of ever winning his father's love or respect. Nor does he want it. Tyrion stands alone in the halls, knowing full well what his father is, and he vows to punish him. As he grows older, Tyrion's responsibilities shift. He is now given the chance to rule, but never in the same capacity as a lord of the west should. Instead, he is tasked with overseeing lesser mines, protecting roads, and dealing with the petitions of the small folk in Lannisport. When he does meet with bannermanmen, Taiwan ensures he only meets with the minor bannermanmen, landed knights, lords who have fallen on hard times. and a few men who have only recently entered the nobility. These are men whose prestige is small and their power is middling and usually bear complaints. It seems at first like a mockery to leave his son to handle them, but Tyrion still takes on this task with Gusto. He spends time talking with these bannermanmen, understanding their issues, and trying to ensure that they are represented. He takes their complaints to Tywin, helps settle conflicts, and provides help with dispensing justice for landed knights. During one such service, he settles a land dispute with houses Spicer and Bra with Tyrion ruling in favor of the former. For his efforts, their knight grants Tyrion his spurs. While Tywin tries to rule with fear, Tyrion acts with intelligence and justice. He is not afraid to go against larger and more powerful bannermanmen in disputes, something that causes no small headache for Tywin. More importantly, it helps Tyrion make connections with them. While they might not be the largest or wealthiest, they are still nobles and have swords and gold. Tyrion is quick to make use of them, taking some men into his service and securing incomes for himself. It isn't much, but he slowly begins to build his own following. Lesser knights and minor lords find Tyrion more approachable. They feel as though he is ruling more justly, and they find him more relatable. Among these reasons are because of his escapades with young nobles. After his loss of Tasha, Tyrion falls into the arms of [ __ ] and brothel. He can spend entire nights in the arms of different prostitutes, and this impresses a few of the lordlings. Others, especially those with disreputable reputations, begin to gather around him, seeing Tyrion as one of them. Had he been born a dwarf, they would have gladly shunned him. But as the second son to a powerful house and a skilled knight, they find kinship in him and bond over their shared loves of wine and whoring. Among these is a young boy named Rodrik Spicer, the nephew of Ralph Spicer. The house is a relatively new one and was raised recently by a family of Bravosi traders who had migrated to Lannisport. Tyrion takes the boy as his squire and the two of them form a close friendship as he proves to be one of the young knights most consistent companions visiting the brothel of Lannisport. During one such meeting, the two of them laugh as they share a jug of rich arbor. My lord, will your family be pleased to see you out so late? My lord, my family will be pleased to see me beside you. We could be in a dungeon and they would still welcome it. They owe you quite a bit after you rule in our favor, Lord Bra. If you hadn't done that, we may have lost half our lands. My father still questions why I cannot be more like you. Huh? Well, it seems like he hasn't met Lord Tywin. He frequently laments why I cannot be more like my brother Jaime. Than a toast to disappointed fathers. They laugh and clink their glasses together. As they down their drinks, Rodri packs Tyrion on the back. In my grandfather's homeland, I was told that they have some of the most beautiful women there. Much nicer than the brothel here. We should go there one time and see it for ourselves. Men like us, we'll soon outgrow Lannisport. Imagine the look on your father's face when he learns of our departure. He might actually kill us. You know, Lord Tywin has hanged men for less. He'll have to catch us first. And besides, what does it matter if we stay here? It's not as if the likes of us will ever rise high in the Westerlands. I am the son of the venerable Tywin Lannister. How much higher can I rise? A son, but the one that will never be a lord. My father has a saying. A mastiff, no matter how fierce, will never be worth anything if it cannot bark. I see you, my lord. You spend your days toiling for his whims, fulfilling whatever tasks he asks of you, no matter how beneath you they are. And does any of that bring you any closer to Castle Rock? It is not that simple. Even if I were to leave as you suggest, where will we go? And what shall we do? Sail across the narrow sea. Win renown there is cell swords. The seven know that the free cities are always in need of enabled young man. We could join one of the free companies or perhaps find employment as one of the archon's gods. They would certainly pay us better than what we make here. Perhaps. But Lord Tywin is still my father. A great bastard he might be, but he is still my father. What kind of father treats his son this way? The room falls silent as he stares at his squire. Though drunk, Tyrion feels his mood darkening. He had never told anyone about Tasha, not even Rodri, so he likely never intended to bring it up. And yet, that is where Tyrion's thoughts go. He thinks of that young woman and shakes his head. The free cities, you say, it's quite a journey, and we are just as likely to find ourselves trapped in a slave market or working as Unsullied. You have doubts. It's understandable, but let me take you to someone who might help you make sense of your feelings. Soon, the two of them are riding out of the city, but rather than making their way through the main streets, the two journey through a back road less traveled, but one wellknown by the population. They reach a small hill where a large black tent is set up. The smell of smoke and spices fill the air before Tyrion even arrives. He covers his nose and coughs, but Rodri is used to it. Pulling the flap back, he guides the knight inside. Inside, a shriveled up woman stands in front of a large cauldron where green smoke rushes out. She is backbent and hisses in a foreign tongue that Tyrion cannot decipher. Great grandmother. A single candle flickers at the center, casting monstrous shadows across the canvas walls. Maggie the frog, ancient and hunched, stands barefoot beside the bubbling pot. Her eyes are pale and milky, though they seem to peer through Tyrion. She's provosi, some say, or worse. But she's never wrong. So, what do you see in the smoke, old woman? Death, glory, a particularly strong hangover. I recognize your scent. Your sister once came here some time ago. I see a lion in golden chains, strangled by shadows he calls skin kin. A woman crushed by a great crown. But most of all, I see the narrow sea. Your name whispered by tongues that do not speak the common. And what awaits me in Essos? Fire, betrayal, glory. You will rise high and fall hard. But there across the sea, your name becomes yours. Not your father's. You will find your destiny in the lands beyond. Destiny is a fool's word. What of love? Ah, that you still ask. Yes. The one you desired most, weeping in the dirt. Her face will haunt you no more. Across the sea, you will find her. Tyrion is silent for a long time. The fire crackles, punctuating the silence. Go, Lion Cup. Tyrion stands. He bows his head and thanks and departs the tent without another word. For a few hours, he says nothing, and Rodri sees little of him. He is convinced that this might have destroyed any chances of his venture. But that is until after a week, Tyrion at last summons him and says that he has chartered a ship to take them east. Using the gold he had saved up from his time helping his father, he was able to secure transportation. But that isn't all. Tyrion also makes use of his connections to gather traveling companions. He is not one to do things half measures and decides that if he's going to travel as a cell sword, he will not merely join a free company. he will form one of his own. Thankfully, his time in the Westerlands has left him with connections to nobles all across the region. He knows which nobles wish to adventure, who has too many sons, and which houses have fallen on hard times. Tyrion writes to them all, promising them an adventure if they accompany him. He promises gold they may send back to their families and a chance to rise higher than they ever might in the rigid Westerlands. Many take him up on that offer. And while Tyrion is not his brother, his charisma allows him to gather nearly 300 young men. These are second sons, hedge knights, free riders, and desperate noblemen strapped for cash. All of them pilot top the ship Tyrion has chartered, and they sail off. They decide to call themselves the Lion's Venture and make landfall in Tyro. Throughout their journey, Tyrion consistently remains on his guard, wondering if his father will send men after him. He had long warned Tyrion from embarrassing the family and threatened him if he ever did something foolish. While he never wrote about where he was going, he is smart enough to know that Tywin Lannister has his sources and will be able to track him down if he truly comes down to it. In reality, Tyrion has little to fear. Rather than wishing to bring Tyrion back, Tywin is happy to see him gone. While he could never get rid of his youngest on his own, he sees this as the perfect loophole. Tyrion chose to leave himself and this gives Tywin leave to disinherit him without any repercussions. He even goes as far as to call his son a craven who did not have the stomach for ruling, saying he was just a whoremonger who saw only carnal pleasures in front of him. Some are even convinced that Tyrion corrupted their relatives and convinced them to run away with them. Yet, whatever they might say, they are now far away and Tyrion can begin looking for contracts. It doesn't take long for him to find one as a small town outside of Tyro has been facing threats from marauders. Supposedly, they are broken men from the last wars between Tyro and Lee. The lion's venture accepts this contract. The sun is high and cruel above the parched earth. The town lies behind them. Crumbling walls, terrified villagers manning it, and grateful to have cells swords to take over that task. Ahead, the dry fields roll in scrub and shadow. The marauders come as rumors said they would. Disorganized but vicious, charging with desperation and greed more than discipline. Tyrion stands among his men, adjusting his helmet. His golden lion sigil gleams faintly on his armor. He sits a stride a sturdy corsair, axe at his side, but his eyes are on the terrain. Rodri rides up beside him, visor already down, his mount restless and snorting. You see it, that outcrop. They'll try to sweep around and hit our archers from behind. I'll take the left flank and drive them off. Good. Have Sir Miles hold the center with the Lannister spears. I'll take the left. They'll break fast, but if they stall just long enough, your riders can finish the rest. Go. Win us our first glory. Rodri wheels his horse and shouts to his men. His voice carries louder than Tyrion's ever could. Sharp and commanding. The men follow him without question. The battle begins in a rush of hooves and shouting steel. The Briggins were not expecting to see resistance, but they outnumbered the Lannister men almost 2 to1 and rushed forward, hoping their weight and momentum would carry them forward and let them steamroll their defenses. The Pikes hold them back for a time, but the left flank has only swordmen and a few spearmen to stop them. And here, Tyrion struggles as he tries to protect the center. His axes flash up and down as he cuts through the briggins, letting out a cry. But as one falls, another takes his place. More importantly, Tyrion finds that combat was never his strong suit. While he holds his own well enough, it doesn't come as naturally to him as Jaime. He lacks the blood lust and killer instinct that most warriors have and has to be saved several times by his allies. He cuts down a man who charges too close, blood spraying across his gauntlet. Another swings low and catches his leg, but his armor holds. Still, there's no thrill to it, no joy, only survival. But then the sound of horns blare and Rodrik circles around the outcropping. His alliance held high as his cavalry runs down the enemy forces. Soon enough, the Briggins decide to retreat, but they are soon cut down by pursuing cells swords. We did it. That was more than luck or fury. You knew where to strike and you led them. Well, you get this. In the name of the seven, or whichever gods dare watch this far from home, I name you Sir Rodrik Spicer, a knight of the lion's venture. He touches the flat of his blade to Rodri's shoulders. The men cheer. I hope your father hears of this. I hope he chokes on it. As they return to the battered town, Tyrion watches the sun dip lower, blood red on the horizon. He doesn't just feel glory. His supposed destiny feels all too far away. That at least is something. Still, success breeds success, and it isn't long before more contracts come their way. Just as Rodri said, everyone is always in need of a sell sword in Essos. Soon enough, the Lion's Venture Company begins winning some victories. These are small at first, such as fighting off bandits, protecting caravans, and intimidating villages into paying their tribute. Yet soon enough, they are tasked with fighting rival companies, and even other armies. At first, Tyrion fights in all these battles. With axe in hand, he stands in the thick of the fighting alongside his men. But as the companies gain recruits, they have enough men to handle that aspect, allowing Tyrion to focus on another important aspect, managing the funds. As they gain success, someone must manage their coffers and handle meetings with the archons and merchant princes who might hire them. That task falls to Tyrion, whose high birth and charisma allows him to dine, laugh, and negotiate with them. He might smile at them for a moment, but then go on to demand fair terms for his forces. The military commands fall to Sir Rodri, who soon proves to be an adept military commander. He manages to lead the Lions venture to several notable victories, ones that continue to burnish their names across Essos. However, there is still some crossover in their duties. As while Tyrion does not hunger for combat the same way his brother and other warriors do, he is still more than capable of handling himself. More importantly, he knows how to plan battles and create strategies, something he has Sir Rodri help him with. Meanwhile, the young Spicer proves to be a great help in the halls of their employers. He has far better knowledge of Essos, something Tyrion comes to rely on. Over time, the two grow to be a small but respected company of over 1,000 men. The two run a tight ship with them following a set of rules similar to the Golden Company. One of them is never to abandon a contract, even when the odds are against them. They might surrender if defeated, but they will not cross their banners if someone offers them more. That being said, they're also known to demand high costs for their services, with Tyrion's political skills letting them demand as much gold as they can. But as the years go on, Tyrion still finds himself thinking of his homeland. He keeps a close ear on the happenings of Westeros, but never once feels compelled to return. Even when King Robert dies and the realm falls into a succession crisis, he does not return. When the king died of a burst vein, Joffrey's coronation was challenged by Stannis, who claims to have evidence that Joffrey was a bastard born of incest. This throws the realm into a succession war. Yet, Tyrion simply shrugs and continues his life in Essos. His mercenary group continues to gain renown. The jobs in Essos keep him busy and leaving him to take his mind off the war. In fact, with the trouble going on in the war, they must worry about protecting ship lanes from pirates and corsairs. To that end, the Lion's Venture is tasked with guarding a flotilla of merchant ships. Without the Royal Fleet to police the narrow sea, they have several run-ins with pirates. These close calls require force, even for Tyrion to take up his ax and defend the cargo on several occasions. However, it is worth it as the ships manage to round the arm of Dorne and reach their ports in the Reach before making their way down. Throughout that time, Tyrion refuses to set foot on Westerosce soil, preferring to remain on the ships. Not even Rodri's promise to visit brothel is enough to entice him. But as they return to Braavos, Rodri is insistent they visit a brothel. Come now, Lord Tyrion. A man ignoring his needs like that cannot be good for his health. All right. All right. I suppose we did enjoy another successful contract. No harm in celebrating that. He allows his former squire to lead him across the cobbled streets of Braavos toward an inn they have both heard about. This place was well reputed with excellent dancers and prostitutes. This place, HappyPort, is expensive. Both men are feeling generous after their victory and share drinks and dance with women. After a few hours, the two of them are truly and fully drunk. But that is where Rodri grabs Tyrion by the shoulders and shakes him, turning him towards one of the prostitutes at the end of the establishment. Now, now there is only one way to end a celebration like this. You must get married. What? No, no. I'm much too young for that. Oh, I think you will change your tune when you hear what happens at the end. There is this woman. They call her the sailor's wife. She only sleeps with men who marry her first. Surely you can handle this, right, my lord? All right. Okay. We'll see how pretty this girl is at the end. Not every woman can tie me down. He relaxes and allows his former squire to lead him towards the end where the sailor's wife turns to face him. But as their eyes meet, Tyrion drops his mug and stares at her in surprise. He digs his heel into the ground until Rodri stares at him. What's What's the matter, my lord? But Tyrion doesn't answer. He simply walks past him, brushes aside anyone in his way as he turns to stare at the woman. The sailor's wife is equally enthralled by this. The two of them continue to make their way through the room. The rest of the room falls away. All the sounds and rockus, all the drunken sailors and dancing women, all the knights and peasants in the room. No, all that matters is the two of them. Tyrion looks at her. The same dark hair that flowed down her shoulders, the same blue eyes, and those same timeless features, but there was a sadness in them that wasn't there before. Uh, are you still interested in marrying her, my lord? I was married to her. This is my wife. You still are, my lord. By now, the whole tavern is staring at them, but Rodri looks over at them and clears his throat. He then shakes his head and hands the owner of the brothel some money to ensure that they will not be disturbed. The chamber is quiet now. Gone are the music and laughter of the tavern. Outside the door, the city still breathes and staggers in drunken haze. But here, in the small back room of the brothel, the air is still and heavy. Tyrion sits on a worn couch, hands trembling. Tasha sits across from him, watching him closely. A single oil lamp flickers between them, casting long shadows over her face. You haven't changed. I've changed more than I ever wanted. Just not in the ways I'd hoped. I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I thought I thought you hated me. I never did. I thought I thought you were paid that you were a [ __ ] I was told you were bought by my father, that you were never mine to love, that he paid the gods, too. He lied. They were there to punish me and you. I didn't even understand why. Not until he told me the story he'd made up. I was part of some game. A lesson for his son. And you believed him. I was 13. I thought he would never lie. Not about that. I let him take everything from us, from you. He closes his eyes and starts to tear up, thinking of everything that the girl had been through. As he sits there, the full realization begins to dawn on him. The pain he had suffered was nothing compared to what he had done to her. He allowed it. He had stood by and watched this happen. His anger and sadness are immediately overcome by shame. Tyrion lowers his head and begins to cry, dipping his head to low. I'm sorry that I didn't do anything to save you. I left you here. He took everything from you. Not everything. Tyrion looks up. I had a daughter after I fled. She's 13 now. The words hit Tyrion like a crossbow bolt to the chest. He doesn't speak for a moment. He can't. He simply stares at her. I named her Lana so I never forgot what we had. Tyrion breathes out sharply like he's been punched. She doesn't know who her father is. I told her he was a knight from Westeros, long gone to war. I I want to meet her. Come with us. Leave Braavos. You her come with me. I can protect you both. And if your father finds out, he'll never touch either of you again. If he does, I will burn his life to the ground. He is surprised by how much venom is in his voice. But as he says it, he is certain of every word. His father had taken everything. Had treated this girl like dirt for the crime of being born a commoner. He will never forget that. Never forgive it. She says nothing for a long while. Then at last she nods. I'll get her tomorrow. Tyrion closes his eyes. For the first time in years, he feels the stirrings of something he thought long dead. Hope. For the next few weeks, things are utter bliss for Tyrion. Though he has to pay a king's ransom to get Tasha and Lana almost a year's worth of his wages, it is worth every copper when they ride out of the city beside him. Rodri and the others are quick to accept the new additions to their party, especially his former squire, who refers to them as the ladies Lannister. For the first few weeks, they tour the free cities, searching for their next contract. They hear that Tyro needs sell swords, and they may be able to get a new contract there. By the time they arrive, they find the city buzzing as if it were preparing for war. Merchants are hard at work converting their trade ships for war. While the city government debates what they shall do with the war in Westeros, they learn that Rob Stark has proven to be a more effective commander than they realized and is now pressing the Lannisters hard. Tyrion nearly laughs when he hears this. The great Tywin Lannister, humbled by a child younger than him when he left. But what Rob doesn't have is the Lannister coffers. They have vast reserves to use in their war chest. And now the Lannisters are recruiting cells swords. With Rob's recent victories in Riverrun, this requires Tywin to reinforce his forces there. And he intends to send these men over. Now, one of the archons is offering a contract to sell sword companies to escort supplies and reinforce the Westermen in the Seven Kingdoms from a future Stark attack. And yet, Tyrion accepts this offer. He sees all the weapons they are being sent. Hundreds of cell swords, enough fodder and grain to last them a year and ships to ferry even more weapons. But as he looks at all of this, Tyrion clenches his fists and considers what he shall do next. There is only one course of action, and he knows what it might mean. Yet he does not care. Night falls over Tyro, but the city does not sleep. The shipyards blaze with torch light as crates of Westerosi arms, food, and silver are loaded onto Tyro merchant vessels, now flying the Lannister Lion. The air smells of pitch and salt and smoke already. And the war hasn't even come yet. Tyrion watches from a rooftop balcony with Rodri helmet under his arm. His eyes are glassy with drink or memory. You sign the charter? The archon seal is on it. You sure about this? Do you see that? That's my father. Every crate, every coin, every banner, they bear his mark. That may be, but we gave our word. The Lion's Venture has never broken a contract. Then tonight, we start a new tradition. Give the signal. Screams pierce the night as oil catches fire across the docks. Sailcloth erupts in flame. One ship half loaded with siege engines explodes in a shower of shrapnel and smoke. Chaos erupts. Tyrion leads from the front. His sword slick and red, his eyes wild. Rodri and a few of the others follow, unsure, but loyal until it's too late. Archers fire down from the warehouse roofs. A Tyroshi overseer tries to flee with a ledger in hand, but Tyrion cuts him down mid-sentence. Send my regards to Lord Tywin. The attack is swift and total. Every ship flying a lion burns before dawn. The sun rises through a wall of black smoke. The lion's venture gathers in the hills beyond the city walls. The men are quiet. No celebration, no boasting. It was a great victory, but none of the men took any pride in it. Rodri rides up to Tyrion, face pale. They've put a bounty on our heads. Every port in Tyro is closed to us. They say you spat on the Archon seal. They will now send every free company in the city after us. I did worse. I burned his ships. We were under his contract. You lied to your men and betrayed the mercenaries who fought for you. What's happening to you, Tyrion? Is vengeance all that's important to you? I risked everything today. I risked everything the day I was born under that cursed name. The only difference is now I've done something with it. And what about the rest of the Lion's Venture? Are we just supposed to go with you on your path to vengeance? Are we simply to accept that we may die? That some of us will, but but that is a sacrifice you're willing to make. They agreed to that when they signed up for this company. If any man here wants to leave, I won't stop you. You'll be paid what's owed, but I will not march beneath my father's gold. Not ever. Then you should never have taken that contract. Soon enough, 300 men leave, taking their belongings, families, and gold with them. This leaves closer to,200 men. And yet, not all these men stay out of loyalty. Many are fearful of leaving, knowing that they may become targets and remain for now. These men watch Tyrion wearily, but the lord is already turning away, watching the distant city glow with fire. Meanwhile, Tywin sits at his desk, a raven's message open before him. The wax is cracked. His fingers press it flat with cold precision. From Tyro? Yes. My son has declared war on me. Let them haunt him. He attacked a Tyroi port filled with supplies for our war effort in the west. Sir Stafford's army will now be deprived of its troops and supplies, but the Tyroi request permission to hunt him down. You would permit them to kill. Let them try. He folds the parchment in half neatly as though it were just a bill of grain. Despite what he might claim Tyrion has caused to regret his actions when they flee from Tyro, they are immediately set upon by the rest of the free companies. Tyro is more than happy to pay for their heads as they had not just attacked the other free companies. They attacked Tyro itself. Throughout their march, they face battles against free companies. Some of them larger than the Lion's Venture and many more experienced. Tyrion and Rodri try to lead them as best they can, but it is as if two heads are pulling the army in opposite directions. Once they could have worked in unison, but now tensions remain high. Rodri serves only for the sake of the company, while Tyrion is eager for revenge, but is willing to set it aside for now. Yet, everywhere they march, they face battles. Tyrion favors cautious efforts aimed at protecting their flanks and preventing themselves from being surrounded. Meanwhile, Rodri favors aggressive and bold pushes aimed at forcing their way out. So, instead, their plan seems to flip-flop between them, and their company suffers. They suffer from forced marches, food shortages, and almost daily battles. Many of their numbers fall from exhaustion, death, or simple desertion. Every night, their quartermaster reports the number of dead and lost, which grows by the day. Hundreds of them. So many that by the time they reach Volantis, the company is down to a third of its strength. Only 500 men left. Yet Tyrion cannot deny these losses. Even he cannot help but feel guilty for everything they lose. Unlike Tyro, Volantis has no concern about the war in the West or the Lion Ventures actions. They are happy to let them remain there, but refrain from hiring them despite Tyrion's efforts to secure a contract. They have as much trust in the free company as Tyro. But there is someone else who considers hiring them. A representative from Yun Kai offers them a job. Daenerys Stormbborn has conquered Slavers Bay, but now they request their aid to liberate their homeland. Tyrion stands before a Junish envoy, tall, bald, and draped in silk dyed a nauseating shade of yellow. He speaks through an interpreter, though his smug tone carries enough. The wise masters of Yung Kai offer gold, grain, and safe lodging for your company. They ask only that you aim in in liberating their city from the usurper. Rodri leans against a tentpole, arms folded, jaw clenched. Tyrion gives no sign of his thoughts as he steeples his fingers. We'll consider it, but we sign nothing. Not until we see Y and Kai for ourselves. The masters await your blades. Do not delay. Their chains grow tight. When the envoy leaves, silence returns. That's it. You're considering this? We need Coin, Rodri. Coin and allies. The men are starving. You've seen the rules. This will allow us to rebuild, restore our reputation, and recruit new members. Taking a city like Meereen would be an amazing victory for us. the reputation that you tarnished, their slavers, their clients. You'd sell our swords to men who traffic and children, who sells people like Chattel. You would drag our reputation further through the mud in the eyes of the Seven Kingdoms, in the eyes of our own members. I won't sign anything yet, but we've lost 2/3 of our strength, and no free city will touch us. You think I enjoy this? We're paras. We don't get to choose ideal contracts anymore. We take the ones to help us survive. Survival isn't worth our honor. Don't talk to me about honor. I was born in a house that wore honor like a mask while it bled people dry. I've watched honorable men rot in dungeons and beheaded on lies. This is the world we live in. I watched Tywin Lannister treat a good woman with nothing but disdain because she committed the crime of being lowborn. Honor means nothing to me. The men don't understand you anymore. They're whispering that you've gone too far. That you've lost your way. And you? I'm still here now, aren't I? They share a long silent glance. Something breaks there. Cracks and ears of trust. The sun sets in red streaks across the sky as the lion's venture approaches Yunkai. But before they can reach its gates, they climb a ridge and see it. the hordes of soldiers they had gathered. Thousands of infantry from the famed lockstep legions, the slaver armies, the camels and elephants from Karth and more. It was an army that even Tywin would have taken pride in. Then he turns to marine in the distance. High walls, smoke curling from the pyramids. The city looks impressive, and he spots unsullied standing on the walls. Freedmen and cell swords all preparing themselves. There was only a fraction of them, and many were doubtlessly untrained. Above it all, dragons. Not just rumors, not just fireside tales. Real vast creatures gliding through the clouds like gods reborn. The men fall silent. That's her, Daenerys Stormbborn. You're not thinking of fighting her. I was sent into exile because I couldn't live in my father's world. Now look, the whole world is changing. As it happens, war doesn't. Soon enough, Tyrion sees the war in full effect. The attack comes at full force, laying siege and bombing the city, though not yet storming in. But despite that, there is plenty of brutality to go around. The besieur rain down corpses infected with pale mare, execute captured slaves in front of them, and even beat their prisoners. Even among their soldiers, the wise masters of Yunkai hardly treat them any better. The slaves are regularly beaten, and the cell swords are treated with barely concealed disdain. As Tyrion has not yet signed the contract, the masters place more pressure on him to at least make it official, threatening to withhold their payments if they refuse. Tyrion's resolve begins to break as he watches this. He sees the kind of people he is serving, the chaos and pain they are inflicting. For the first time, he doubts. At night, Tyrion throws himself into drinks. He drowns himself in wine, trying to forget about what happened the day before, reminding himself that this is a job. He tells himself it is for the greater good. But Tasha is not convinced. She grips Tyrion's hand and looks at him as he finishes another bottle. Why are we here, Tyrion? This is our job. We were tasked with taking the city. We cannot leave until we have taken it. I betrayed one contract already. To try this again will make the Lion's Venture unemployable. As opposed to the alternative. What is this job? To help these monsters restore slavery? Look how they treat your men. This isn't such a job. We have the hands of thousands in our hands. Tasha, please. You don't understand. Don't I? Answer me this, Tyrion. What would your father have done in this situation? Tyrion gives a pause as he thinks about it, but he knows the answer immediately. His father would have aided the slavers without hesitation, stopping only to extort them for as many gold dragons as he could, and suggested that some of his enemies be taken as slaves. He pauses and bows his head, letting that sink in. He clenches his fist and considers this. Because of that, he barely notices the tent opening and watches as Rodri steps forward with a naked sword in his hand. The knight looks at his friend sadly as Tyrion's eyes fall upon the blade. Tasha leans closer to Tyrion, who doesn't rise to his feet. Is this a coup? It is what you make of it, my lord. The men are in a fury. They do not wish to work for slavers, and they asked you to take over. They asked me to kill you, my lord. But I am prepared to come to an agreement. Leave now. Take your weapons, horse, and whatever you can carry and ride hard out of camp. For the sake of our old friendship, I will ensure no one comes after you. I won't sign the contract. You were right. I cannot do this. It's too late for that. You led them to the ends of the world with these slavers. Tarnished our reputation. They think there is no going back. Not while you lead us. I can't stop them. They hate me. Can you blame them? We followed you because we thought you were better than Tywin. Because you put the need of your bananamin above your own ambition. I know. I know. But that is why I need your help fixing it. There is no fixing this. There is always a way to fix it. Please. I have a plan. I know that I cannot restore our reputation. Not here and not with what I do. But maybe I can offer them something. It would have to be big. It will be. Just give me some time. 3 days. And we'll need your daughter as insurance. No. I'm sorry, my lady, but it's the only way I can keep the men placated. Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to Lana or you. Not now. Not ever again. But I do need your help. For the next 3 days, Tyrion begins jumbling together a plan. He remains locked in his tent with only Tasha and Rodri as his visitors. Yet, these visits just seem as strange to the men as anything else. Both of them don't speak with the men. They travel through the camps visiting the wise masters and the other cells sword companies. Rodri even accompanies the masters in negotiations with Meereen. The third night comes heavy with heat, the air thick and unmoving. That is until a sound pierces the silence. Then another steel clashes. At first, it's a drunken brawl between two cells sword captains, the tattered prince and bloodbeard. But then a line of tents goes up in flame. Men begin to scream. The second sons begin fighting one another. Archers from windblown turn their bows on youngish guards. Slaves unarmed just hours ago now pull blades from beneath their carts. From under cooking pots. Smoke rises in columns just where Tasha said they would be. Rodri gallops to Tyrion's tent, sword drawn. It started. They're turning on each other. Tyrion steps out, fully armored. He looks toward the chaos, toward the golden flames, eating the edge of the Junkish banners. It begins. The slaves. How you'd be amazed what people desperate will do for freedom and a knife. Come, it's time to see how a city falls. Tyrion raises his horn to his lips and begins to blow. The lion's venture, already armed and ready, begins filing out. At first, it seems like they might be the ones who restore order. But they instead turn their blades upon the slavers, adding to the chaos. More horn blows follow, sending the signal to attack. As the Junkish camp collapses into infighting. A great horn bellows from the walls of marine in response. The bronze gates grown open. The unsullied march in perfect rose. Behind them come the freedman, clad in scraps and bearing clubs and axes. And then high above, wings slash the air. Drogon black as night with Daenerys Targaryen upon its back. The scream of dragons splits the sky. Fire rains down on the Yunker siege towers. Tents erupt. War elephants break and run. The Jari had kept their camp separate from the rest of their forces. And once the slavers clear out, nothing is there to stop the dragon fire. Tyrion stands at the hill's edge, watching the conflaggeration below. Rodri at his side, silent in awe. You planned all of this, not the fire. That was her. After the battle, the victors gather in the throne room of Meereen. Tyrion steps forward, flanked by Rodrik and Tasha, past Bloody Unsullied and whispering advisers. Daenerys Stormbborn sits tall, calm amid the heat of conquest. Grey Worm and Missande stand at her sides. They say you broke your contract, betrayed your employers, started a slave rebellion, burned half a camp. Is that true? Now you wish to discuss terms with me? Mostly true. There is one detail off. I never signed with Yunkai. I said that I would like to observe the conflict first, but I signed with you. Given our performance in the battlefield, I am certain that you can see that Lion's Venture is a respected and skilled company. Why? You are a Lannister. Your father betrayed mine, and now you expect me to forget that. On the contrary, I would like nothing more for you to stew on that and exact vengeance upon him. You see, my father has betrayed a great many people, including me, a Lannister. And what would you have me give you? Gold ships? Justice? My father lied to me. Told me my wife was a [ __ ] Sold her to soldiers. Made me watch as they took her and sent her off. She was never what he claimed. He destroyed her life and mine. And for that, I can never forgive him. Even Rodri turns his head in shock, mouth slightly open. The other cell swords look at him in surprise. Even those who had served him for years never knew this story. It was one he took no joy in telling. I don't want a crown. I want my company to have what we've earned. Lands, titles. Many of the men who follow me are knights and lords, or the sons of knights and lords. They have lands back home and titles. Grant them what is theirs, and you shall have a core of supporters who know the land well in the seven kingdoms who can get you more allies. Daenerys is silent for a long moment. Then she stands. Done. I named the lion's venture allies of Meereen. And you, Tyrion Lannister, you are no longer your father's son. With that, their alliance is sealed and preparations for an invasion are met. Lion's Venture will join the Unsullied and the rest of Daenerys's army as they sail to Westeros. Tyrion plays a key role here, pointing out which houses might be open to allying with her and which ones will need persuasion. The Lion's Venture is given an official contract with the promise of which lands and titles they shall receive. They send merchants to begin gathering information regarding the Seven Kingdoms just as they finish off the Junish. Soon enough, all of Slaver's Bay yields to them. So all this time, that was what had your heart burning so intently. Your father? I never knew. How could you? I never told anyone. How could I possibly tell anyone? Your [ __ ] wife. I knew Lord Tywin was a bastard, but that I'm starting to understand why you did what you did in Tyro. I'm not proud of what I did, but I know I betrayed your trust. I know I lost my way. I forgot that was my family, too. I became what I hated. Almost became. I doubt Taiwan and Lannister ever struck the chains off slaves. The two laugh as Tasha brings them a jug of wine. Soon enough, the merchants return with stories from the west. After the secession war ended with Lannister victory, they had managed to defeat the Starks and Baratheonss, leaving them in control of the Seven Kingdoms. But that hold is tenuous. Tywin Lannister is little loved and Tommen is inexperienced. Many know he is under the thumb of his mother. The only thing that helps keep them in power is their alliance with the Tyrells. It is decided that they will split their invasion force in two. One is commanded by Tyrion and ordered to strike in the Westerlands, while the larger force strikes at the reach under Daenerys's command. Dragons scream over the fertile valleys of the Mander. Their shadows sweeping over wheat fields and vineyards. Daenerys rides Drogon above the chaos, torching siege towers and gold rose banners alike. Her legions, bolstered by unsullied freed men, and the cell swords land along the reach ghost. They come in the dead of night, landing on the shores and coastal towns. Although the Redwind fleet tries to check their advance, the ships are scattered by the arrival of the dragons, whose fire panics the sailors at the sight of something not seen in over a century. Many simply flee, and those who remain are picked off. As they make their landfall, the Targaryen forces are quick to lay waste to the countryside. Their cavalry sweeping through the lush green fields while infantry stormed towns and villages, securing them and flying the black dragon banner. For a moment, there is complete chaos as in the initial days, the Reachmen are too panicked to properly respond. The few forces they send out are crushed peacemeal, giving Daenerys time to advance inland. The further they go, the more allies they gain as the delegation from Dorne arrives and offers their aid. They had never had cause to Love House Tyrell or Lannister and see her arrival as a chance to write some of their old grievances. Just as the Reach finally raised an army to confront them under the command of Randall Tarly, this force marches south from Old Oaks to confront them. However, the Reachman is careful to avoid direct clashes with them and remains behind strong points with artillery to take on dragons. He instead splits his army into smaller forces to confront raiding parties and annihilate them. Slowly but surely, they manage to push southward and advance towards Daenerys's main host. But before they can clash, a Dornish host appears from the Boneway and offers their aid. Mace Tyrell, bloated and golden green, is red-faced and raging as he rallies his bannerman. But even with Lord Tywin's arrival, the Reach cannot stand against fire and fury. He reluctantly must call from his allies in the Westerlands. Tywin rides south with a large army, his veterans grinding Daenerys's army to a slower crawl with scorched earth tactics, something Randall Tarly does. This leaves Mace horrified, but both men agree this is their best course of action. Yet, it keeps his attention fixed southward, so he does not see what happens in the west. Tyrion Lannister, with a lean force of no more than 3,000. They disembark at the port of case where Tyrion once arbitrated border disputes and broke bread with lesser bannermanmen. The locals remember House Spicer, Sarsfield, and Swift answer his summons. Some remember him from the days he settled their petty squables with fairness. Others believe Daenerys will win, and they wish to be on the right side of history. And soon that force of 3,000 grows as these bettermen offer their troops. While many larger houses remain loyal, for the first time they are now outnumbered as the cell swords and freed men Tyrion brings allow them to challenge them openly. Within weeks he has taken feast fires, Silverhill and Hornvil. Small castles fall with little bloodshed. Tyrion's army grows, bolstered by landless knights and second sons, the very kind he once marched with. But at Craig Hall, a crimson banner flies. Jaime Lannister, golden and proud, rides at the head of a column of loyal Westermen. Tasked by Tywin to reclaim what is ours. The clash is brief and brutal. Tyrion, remembering every lecture from Rodri and every lesson in siegecraft, fakes a retreat. Jaime, ever the bold lion, takes the bait, charging with cavalry into a narrow valley. There, Tyrion and his infantry wait with a failance. Jaime knows that Tyrion is the commander of this offensive, and capturing him can bring this war to a quick end. He rushes forward, ordering his cavalry to split off and attack from three sides to break their lines and outflank them. But as they thin the ranks, the trap is sprung. Hidden crossbow men fire from both Ridgelines. Horses panic and Tyrion's infantry closes the gap. Jaime is thrown from his horse, disarmed and surrounded. By the end of the battle, Tyrion sits in Craig Hall while Jaime kneels before him. I warned you once. You're always too quick to leap. You were always too fond of tricks. Tricks win wars. There's a beat of silence between them. Tell me something, Jamie. That night when Tasha was taken from me, you were there, weren't you? You told me she was a [ __ ] That father paid for her. I did? Was it true? No. Father told me it was to teach you a lesson. The small folk will just try to steal our wealth. And yet she never asked for gifts from me or demanded I provide her with gold. Only that I be true to her. He said that your relationship was unnatural. Did he? Now tell me, what did he say when he learned you were [ __ ] your own sister? Tyrion, please. Is that the way of things here? You can do what you want without consequences, but I cannot find love. You knew. You knew she loved me and you let him destroy her. Anyway, I did what I thought was right. You were 13. She was a peasant girl. You remember what happened to grandfather? Titos Lannister was a fool. Believe me, I know that. But our father is a monster. The silence stretches. What do you plan to do with me? Kill you? No. That's father's way. I'll keep you alive. You'll sit in chains and watch the world change without you. Tyrion turns, signaling the guards. Tyrion, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for my part. Tyrion says nothing, but instead recaptures the rest of the Westerlands. Without Jaime or Tywin, it is much harder to hold on to. As many houses see the way the wind is blowing, and Tyrion is still a Lannister, giving him some legitimacy in this claim. But they all know it won't matter so long as Tywin remains active. So Tyrion focuses on trying to lure him back and at last crushing him. But to defeat him, he must first lure Tywin out and confront him. The only way to do that is by striking at something he deems valuable. And Tyrion soon marches his army north, rushing towards Lannisport. Smoke rises over Lannisport. The Golden City's proud harbor was filled with the charred remains of his loyalist ships. Siege towers burn against its walls, and from the hills above, Tyrion Lannister's banners, a lion over a black flame, flutter beside Daenerys Targaryen's silver dragon. The gates of Castly Rock stand visible in the distance, towering and silent like a wounded god. Tyrion watches from a command post at top a ridge. Rodrik at a side, both dirtied by war. Behind them, the tattered remnants of the lions venture, and the Miranese soldiers prepare for a final push. Word is your father rolled all night from the reach. Good. Let him see what I've become. Soon enough, the Lannister army arrives. Nearly 12,000 men turned to face him. Tyrion leaves a small force of freedman, his least disciplined troops, to handle the siege while the rest of his forces turn to face them. This happens just in time as the first cavalry charge hits them. Like with Jaime, the discipline on Sulli hold firm against them, letting Tyrion ride with his cavalry to meet them in a hammer and anvil strike. The hammer is small though, and the fighting is fierce. Tyrion remains surrounded by his bodyguards, but he struggles to make ground. The Unsullied and the rest of his infantry advance, trying to push their way forward and clash with the Lannister spearmen. Though none can challenge the Unsullied in a Felix formation. Some Lannister men rush forward with great swords and axes, disrupting their formation and hacking at spear points. A few even reach the Unix and force them to face off against them in close quarters where the superior strength meets them. While they are holding for now, Tyrion knows that if gaps open, he will have to rely on his less experienced freedman, and that can pose trouble. He continues to ride along the lines, fighting his way past the rows of spearmen and enemy cavalry. Rodri is by his side, keeping him from getting killed. From the far end of the valley, a great roar tears through the sky. Clouds scatter as Drogon descends like a comet of black and flame. Upon his back, Daenerys Targaryen raises her hand, and the beast screams fire down upon Tywin's army. Lannister troops scatter, horses shriek, and flee from the chaos. Now, Tyrion and Rodri lead a vanguard of Unsullied and Westerosi knights through the burning battlefield. The thunder of Drogon above provides cover as they carve their way through the Lannister defenders. Rodri takes his spear to the shoulder, but fights on. Tyrion is nearly unseated, but rallies the charge as they smash through the brittle lines of Lannister Spearman. As they break, there is nothing protecting Lord Tywin, save his personal guard. The Lion's Venture rushes to confront them, leaving Tywin alone. You would come here with fire and blood, like a Targaryen. Better to do that than die under your shadow. And what have you built? Mercenaries and bastards. a world you don't belong in. You'll never rule. No matter what you burn, you'll never be more than what I made you. You're wrong. You didn't make me. He slashes and Tywin deflects it with a sword of his own. The old lion fights fiercely, still dangerous. Rodri joins the fry, bloodied but unbroken. He comes from the side and forces Tywin to turn and block his strike. The duel is brutal. Steel on stone. Final reckoning of father and son. Tywin rounds Rodri, nearly running him through, but Tyrion screams and hurls himself forward, driving his sword through Tywin's ribs. Tywin gasps, collapses to his knees. He looks up, disbelief in his eyes, fading. She was nothing. She was everything. He drives the sword home. Tywin Lannister falls. With that, the Lannister war effort collapses and the army is thrown into chaos. The Westerlands are left leaderless, making it easy for Tyrion to simply pick up the pieces and reclaim his seat. Without their allies, the Reach soon follows. And then King's Landing, where Cersei is caught. The rest of the Seven Kingdoms did not care for the Lannisters and rallied around the Targaryenss. Daenerys has Jaime and Cersei executed while their children are given to be fostered by trusted allies of Tyrion, never to inherit the Iron Throne. Meanwhile, Tyrion retires to Castle Rock with Tasha as Lord and Lady. That's our theory. Westeros is a land filled with exciting stories and possibilities, and we love exploring them. If you want to accompany us on this journey across the Seven Kingdoms and beyond, then please like, share, and subscribe to our channel.