Daenerys shielded her eyes from the bright sun with her fair hand and searched the bay.
"There!" she said, pointing.
Tyrion followed her outstretched arm and squinted.
"Jolly bright" he grunted, wincing slightly.
"You drank far too much wine last night" said Dany.
Then he saw it: he had taken it for a gull, so fast and graceful did it move, the curve of its white cloth sail like a giant wing.
"It has two hulls" he said, as if complaining, as if his eyes weren't to be trusted.
"Catamarans are faster, lighter" she said. "This is how they sail in the southern isles."
Tyrion watched, entranced. It seemed to fly over waters, free. Yes, with this yacht she could indeed win the Westeros Cup.
"It's amazing" he said, grinning.
Then the sun's heat and light were eclipsed as a shadow fell over the bay.
"Drogon!" cried Daenerys.
The black dragon swooped down and engulfed the little yacht in a ball of fire. Even from this far distance they could hear the screams. In rage it snorted again and again, kicking the ablaze mast into the waters.
When there was nothing left but ash scattered across the waves it flew off, south.
As tears ran down Dany's face there was no sounds but the gentle lap of waves on the shore.
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2 comments:
Oh dear. I have some catching up to do here, I see!
I'd say this is a spoiler free zone but the trouble with blogs is they post most recent first, the opposite order in which they are meant to be read.
But winter is coming, as it will.
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