[S4] Tyrion Lannister x Reader | The Wrong Majority - P2

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It was surprisingly difficult to haul a small human body around in a potato sack over your shoulder- but it looked quite normal, and you were managing just fine on your adrenaline and grit. After all, you were only half-way down to the docks where you were told the boat and smugglers would be waiting for you. This was never a spur of the moment plan- you had been convinced by a small group of others just as equally outraged at the trialling of Lord Tyrion, to commit to this plan, and with a little hope for your first time smuggling- the gold dragon awaiting you at the end of it was just a bonus on top of the motivation.

Either way, you knew that someone else would have come to check on the missing guards and lack of visitor for sure by now, and it would take merely minutes before all the gold-cloaks in the city were snapping up your trail. Focus. You told yourself. You realised you had unconsciously picked up pace, and forcefully slowed yourself down to a brisk stroll. You were certain it wouldn't make a difference how quick you were- but how well you blended in most certainly would.

You could see the seclusive left piers of the dock, and the little schooner that was awaiting your package- you were but a single street away, and yet you began to hear the frantic whispers and hurried rumours bustling about you. Some people retreated indoors, or betwixt alleyways. Others froze in place, and stared up the street towards the keep- they were looking. You couldn't help but begin to hurry towards your goal now- it was so dreadfully close, and the little imp was so close to the real justice he deserved- freedom.

Besides, you had grown somewhat fond of the little man- yes, you had only met him about 30 minutes ago but you had admired him even before, as did many of the other civilians and 'peasants' of king's landing, as they were seen as. Even if your few brief moments you could feel his spark of humour and his intelligence had ebbed in his words-

More than anything, you were rather sapiosexually driven. Men with minds sharper than dragon glass were more appealing that big bulky strong men, who may as well just be big sacks of meat of little intellectual value in comparison.

You were brimming with determination, and as your foot stepped into the first boards of the pier, you stepped up into a jog- especially with the staring eyes and shouts of alarm coming from behind you. Wary eyes daggered at you from the ship- tired, scared eyes. You hadn't reached the boat yet, but you knew you were soon to be pursued,

"RELEASE THE FLAG!" You screamed from under a shady shawl- you preyed nobody from the city would recall the strange sack woman's face as you now hurtled into a sprint down the pier. Startled, but quick to react, Djanaan, the captain of the whole affair, hooded up and promptly slashed the rope keeping the ship's sail at bay- and in a swift arc of movement, slashed full circle to cut the ropes tying the ship to the harbour.

The schooner began to dart away, and you just managed to crash aboard, back first, cradling your hostage in a sack and wailing at the crunch of impact in your right shoulder-

You had made it, albeit the cost.

You sat calm and somewhat recovered after some fragile assistance from your now shipmates, and rested your body against the flagpole and sat upon a barrel. King's Landing was a speck in the distance, and you were empty with both relief and dread. You had made it within a split second, but you had never expected to be a part of the actual expedition- your job was to smuggle the little lord aboard and blend back in and away- now you may as well be a wanted criminal, with no home to return to.

You were so consumed by panic and confusion, that you completely ignored the awakening or Tyrion at first. The mumbles of things being explained to him; his sad but thankful comprehension-

In fact, you would had thought it would be you who would provide some comfort and relief to him in the given circumstances- but it was Tyrion that snapped you back into reality.

"Unless you plan on swimming, it's a long way to go back now. And I'm pretty sure they'd be a bit suspicious of a woman in described clothing turning up at the docks drenching wet and scared."

You couldn't help but let out an amused huff; he could make anyone smile. It wasn't enough though- you were still worrying about everything you had just left, voluntarily- for someone who had no place in your life. Or at least, who didn't.

He came into your vision, and hopped up onto a barrel to the right of your dead-set gaze. He gave you a look of empathy, and you finally pulled away to look at him, silently. He had your attention, and continued, "I'm supposing you didn't mean to make a leap of faith and join the crew taking me away to somewhere less deathly? Well, I didn't mean to get kidnapped after some very abrupt signals- ah, hah- and taken away from my home, either. But here we are..."

"Here we are." You reply, gritting and happy in your tone. You weren't so much sad now- but simply taken aback. He was clearly working his magic quite well,

"I don't mind. Though usually it's the damsel in distress that is saved by the knight in shining armour that kisses her to sleep- not a crazy noble woman pecking a little monster before whacking it over the head with a brick-"

"a Little man. And whacking him over the head. You're not a monster, why do you think you aren't dead? And yes you may be little in height, but you're much larger in everything else." You correct, returning his empathy and falling back into your gentle nature again.

He pulls a wry grin, and with the face of the devil, fought back with a quick response, "Well I can most certainly vouch for that one, if we're really talking about everything else."

You turn your head away to hide the rosy red cheeks and stifled giggles, but it's too late- he already noticed, and his little snickers go to show it.

Your eyes fall onto his now, a little more soft- but a little more serious, and you simply smile, "I don't know how you can be so witty at this minute. We're on a ship going god knows where, and you're not in your home... I'm not in my home, and I don't know if we'll ever return."

You know your words have brought out a sadness in him, but at the same time, he still remains warm to you, "True... but you can't despair about everything in life. I could be on a little rowing boat with no arms and someone far less pretty- oop." He rests his head in his palm with a bit of humility, before sprinting up, and taking your hand. You burn brighter, the tension builds-

"Where do you keep the wine on this ship? I think now is the perfect time to sit in a corner, drink our sorrows away and shamelessly speak of our past endeavours, don't you?"

And with that, you both set off together, a little bit more heartened.

A/N: So sorry for the delay! I've had a really crap week and I had this almost finished 4 days ago. But I'm back at it again, don't think you've got rid of me so soon :)

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