Chapter 69 - The Coronation (IV)

"Is he a man or a god? Yet just asking me the question makes me question reality." Tyrion Lannister, after meeting Aenar Targaryen for the first time.

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"This city stinks like a sweaty old whore," commented Tyrion, watching the magnificent red towers burn in crimson flames. Even at night, Volantis seemed alive, which really pleased him. He supposed that the nights in the city were as lively as they promised to be.

Apart from the imposing beard he now sported, Tyrion Lannister showed no major changes in appearance, nor any signs of torture.

Barristan Selmy, to his surprise, had never hurt him or even threatened him. On the contrary, the old knight had provided him with food and water throughout the journey, without missing a single day.

"Looks like we've arrived." Tyrion sighed as he walked beside the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who had served both Aerys II and Robert I. The little lion of House Lannister had never considered running away during the journey.

He knew that in Essos, his father's name, although feared in Westeros, did not carry the same weight on this continent. Besides, the likelihood of dying while trying to escape was high.

Even though he was aware that his final destination could be death, Tyrion preferred to live as long as possible under the protection of the legendary knight of Westeros.

"Ser Barristan, do you think the Targaryen prince will feed me to that dragon called Caraxes? Personally, I think it would be a waste of effort. I can't even fill the spaces between the beast's teeth." Tyrion commented with his characteristic acid humor. Although he feared death, he was determined to face it if the future dragon king so wished.

Barristan fixed his blue eyes on the dwarf, giving him a deep look before replying: "I'll try to speak on your behalf. You're not a monster like your father."

Throughout the journey, Barristan had come to realize that Tyrion was a good-hearted man. Despite his short stature and the reputation he carried, he had more honor and dignity than many self-proclaimed knights.

Even though he knew that defending Tyrion could cost him his life, the old knight would do it, because he didn't want the dwarf's fate to be sealed by his hands.

Tyrion smiled, even in the face of the circumstances. The two of them had become friends over the course of the journey. "Thank you, Ser Barristan. If you survive, I hope you'll pour the best wine you can find over my tombstone."

Yes, Tyrion didn't think he would come out of this alive. The pain that House Lannister had inflicted on House Targaryen went far beyond destroying a dynasty. His father had ordered the murder of the entire royal family and, in the end, succeeded. In all, at least four members of House Targaryen perished at the hands of the Lannisters.

Tyrion never imagined that he would pay with his life for Tywin's actions. Still, he had one last wish: that the Targaryen King would not be cruel and would spare his nephews. Myrcella and Tommen didn't deserve such a tragic fate; they were too young to die.

"What's happening to this city?" Barristan muttered to himself, noticing that the air in the city was slightly hostile. It was an atmosphere that reminded him of war.

Approaching an old man sitting in front of a house, calmly smoking a pipe, Barristan decided to look for answers. "Hello, can you tell me what's going on in town?"

What came out of the former Lord Commander's mouth was a High Valyrian tainted with Essos accents, surprising even Tyrion.

The old man, with a fly tattoo on his cheek, looked at the tall knight and the dwarf with curiosity. After letting out a long puff of smoke, he replied: "The Triarchs tried to steal and kill the Messiah's dragons. The people revolted, and the Red Legion stormed the Black Walls."

He paused to take another drag, releasing another thick cloud before continuing: "There was a massacre behind the Black Walls. After that, hundreds, maybe thousands of carriages left laden with gold and precious jewels."

There was a hint of pleasure in his voice at the mention of the massacre of the Old Bloods of Valiria. As a slave who collected elephant and horse dung, he was more than happy to see what had happened. There wasn't a good person behind the Black Walls, those people didn't even consider them human.

"Is the Prince hurt?" Barristan asked, concern evident on his face. Just the thought that his future king might have suffered an assassination attempt made the former Lord Commander of the Royal Guard immediately want to run towards the Great Temple of Volantis.

The old man shook his head firmly. "The Messiah is fine. He was protected by Lady Leda Dayne, who killed those damned Triarchs," he replied with a tone full of sincere devotion.

It wasn't difficult to understand the reverence in his words. He was no longer a slave, and thanks to the Messiah, his children and grandchildren were also free from this cursed fate.

Now his grandchildren could study, and his family finally had hope of escaping poverty. All thanks to the Messiah, who had put an end to the slave trade in Volantis.

Even knowing that Slave Bay was furious and planning to send a fleet against Volantis, the old man didn't care. On the contrary, he fervently wanted to see those slavers burn in the sacred flames of the Messiah's dragon.

Barristan breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that the prince was safe, but then a name caught his attention:

Lady Leda Dayne.

He searched his memories and soon remembered. The girl was the niece of Arthur Dayne, the legendary comrade-in-arms he had respected so much.

"If you've come for the Messiah's coronation, I advise you to find an inn as soon as possible. People are arriving from all over the continent. Volantis will be packed tomorrow."

Noticing Barristan's obvious concern for the Messiah's safety, the old man's expression softened. He decided to offer some gentle advice to those travelers who had clearly come from very far away.

"Thank you," said Barristan in a sincere tone, as he turned to leave.

The old man, letting out another puff of smoke, murmured kindly: "God bless you, travelers from afar."

Tyrion watched the people around him, some praying while hiding their faces under black robes. He shook his head slightly and commented. "I don't know how, but these people really do worship him as if he were a god."

"And what does it matter?" Barristan replied, continuing to walk ahead without looking away from the faithful.

"It matters," Tyrion replied, with his usual cunning tone. "Because, tell me, what do you think is the mentality of someone who is worshipped as a god?"

Barristan frowned for a moment, pondering his words. In the end, his mind came up with an answer he didn't want to believe.

Seeing Barristan's silence, Tyrion sighed, but made no comment.

The answer was obvious to everyone.

A true tyrant.

Noticing his silence, Tyrion spoke in a more cheerful tone. "Maybe I'm wrong, look how these people love and treat Prince Aenar with respect. A tyrant may have the fear of the people, but a tyrant will never have the love of the people."

Barristan's expression improved hearing those words. Yes, his prince had won the love of these people, he would not be an unworthy king.

Tyrion could guess Barristan's thoughts from the legendary knight's expression, but unlike the optimistic knight, he wasn't so keen to find Aenar Targaryen. There was another option he hadn't mentioned.

Every tyrant had the love of the people in the beginning...

"So, do you want to go straight to the Great Temple of Volantis or shall we look for an inn? I'd love to have one last meal. And if it were in the arms of a beautiful woman from Volantis, it would be even more incredible," Tyrion commented with a smile on his face.

"You are truly lascivious, Lord Tyrion." Barristan shook his head in disbelief at the dwarf's lust. It was hard for him to understand how someone so small could carry such a huge appetite. It wasn't the first time that Tyrion had asked him for a prostitute, although perhaps it would be the last.

"Not everyone has vows of celibacy. I honestly don't know how you can go decades without feeling the warmth of a woman," Tyrion replied, rolling his eyes at the knight's seriousness.

"Duty, honor, responsibility," replied Barristan without hesitation, as if the words were engraved on his soul.

"You have my sincerest admiration. I, however, couldn't do it. Being away from a woman for a month would make me feel dead inside," Tyrion commented, with an amused tone and a teasing smile.

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