Midnight Snack

"Wha?"

Tyrion looked down at his lap, the warmth of the egg now comforting.

"What?" Joe asked, inspecting Tyrion up and down.

"The egg. . . It's. . . warm."

Joe's eyes widened, "You feel it too?"

"Just now, I-"

That's when Bronn slammed his empty cup on the hard sky floor, "Out of wine."

Joe flinched, startled at Bronn's sudden outburst.

['Was Bronn feeling left out just now?']

The thought made Joe smile, "That's no good!"

*Rumble!*

Bronn and Joe looked at the embarrassed Tyrion, clutching at his rumbling stomach.

Joe shook his head, "No, no, no, this won't do at all. We're out of wine. Tyrion's hungry. We ought to do something about this."

"I suppose you have something in mind," said Bronn with a credulous brow.

Joe sprung to his feet, taking the candle and making for the cell door. He turned back to them, the candle flame lighting his face, "Isn't it obvious?"

Tyrion and Bronn looked at each other queerly, ". . ?"

Joe shook his head, tsking and tutting, waving an unimpressed finger, "A kitchen raid, dummies!"

Bronn began calculating how the three would find the kitchen without any trouble.

Tyrion's face flushed with life, "Sounds wonderful."

"Then it's settled!"

"Errr. . ."

In the corner, Mord grumbled, his eyes groggily fuzzed, "Huh? Oi, what are you-"

But before Mord could gather, Bronn had socked him in the face again, knocking Mord out cold.

Joe cringed at the impact, "Jeez!"

Mord had been disabled into the corner of the sky cell again, sleeping like a baby.

Bronn shook his fist, ignoring how Joe and Tyrion looked at him with impressed yet shocked dispositions.

"That was all professional, I trust," said Joe, worried for Mord's health.

"Don't you worry about him," Bronn said, "I've-."

Tyrion and Joe playfully rolled their eyes and said together, "Been knocking people out since 9."

Bronn could tell they were taking the piss, "I have!"

"Yeah, yeah, alright," dismissed Joe, "Just follow my lead."

Joe popped his head out the door, and the corridor of the dungeons was empty.

"You don't mind scouting ahead, do you, Roxanne?" Joe said to his White Raven perched on his shoulder, to which Roxanne flapped her feathery wings and took flight.

That's when Joe closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the left was milk white.

As if in a daydream — a point of view of hazy hue — Joe flew through in search of clues.

"This way," said Joe with a giddy step.

"I take it this isn't your first kitchen raid," said Tyrion following behind.

Joe scoffed, "Nor is it yours."

Bronn, who naturally found himself in the position of the rearguard, just listened to these pampered lords talk their talk of food and plenty.

"Been on more raids than I can count," said Bronn.

"You can count?"

Tyrion laughed at Joe's quip, "Haha, mayhap, that was his point."

The gang made their way through the silent castle, halting now and then to peep around corners or wait out a passing sentry.

Bronn and Joe moved silently as cats through the grandeur of the Eyrie as if it were a contest.

Tyrion didn't partake. His fine boots clopped expensively on the ancient marble floor.

After a while of navigating, they happened upon a door, and Roxanne came flying, this time perching herself on the shoulder of Bronn.

Joe placed a hand on the door, "Looks like we're here."

"Think anyone will be inside?" wondered Tyrion.

"Hope not," said Joe, "Bronn can only knock one person out at a time."

Bronn scoffed, "According to you."

"We should be okay," said Joe as he opened the door, "It's the middle of the night. Who could possibly be in the kitchen at this hour—"

Joe got his answer, for when he opened the door, he saw immediately that half a dozen scullions occupied the kitchen.

"Uh. . ," Joe awkwardly scratched his head, "Good evening, ladies?"

Bronn looked around at the kitchen girls. Some of them were rather comely, "Nice place," he said with a flirtatious smirk. Roxanne coo'd on his shoulder, seemingly laughing at Bronn's horny expense.

Tyrion could suddenly smell himself more clearly; his shoddy appearance did nothing to quell his embarrassment~

"Evening, m'lords?" a short, stocky kitchen wench said. She was older and looked like she could pack some serious elbow grease. Joe recognized this woman as the head honcho of the kitchen. "The kitchen is off limits. Only the servants can—"

Joe raised a diplomatic hand, "Fear not, my lady, we've been sent to relieve you of your duties."

"Relieve us?" said a younger scullion with blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.

"Indeed, you all have worked so hard that Lady Arryn sent me, the finest cook in all the land, to take over."

"That doesn't sound right," said the head honcho, "We work in shifts and have swapped just now. . ."

"I know that!" said Joe, "I was testing you! Now, Tyrion, what would you like to eat?"

Tyrion, still sensing that Joe was yet to complete his deception, answered with a reserved "whatever available. . ."

"An easy customer, eh? I like it," Joe said as he scanned the kitchen, "Bronn, I don't suppose you could find where they keep the wine?"

"Simple enough," replied the sellsword.

"Now, hold on just a moment!"

The three companions raised a brow, "Hmm?"

It was the head honcho lady. It seemed she did not like being usurped from her kitchen, "You can't just walk in here and take over. And that *wine* is property of Lady Arryn!"

"We know," Joe tried to work his gas-lighting magic, "That's why we're here. Where else are we going to find wine up in the mountains?"

"You're not listening," replied she, "No matter. Let's see what Lady Arryn has to say about this."

Joe stepped intercepted and waved his hands as if giving instructions to reverse a truck, "Woah, woah, woah! Slow down. Haven't you been working hard? Why don't you ladies take the rest of the night off? We happen to be hosting a party. . ."

"A party?" the younger scullions murmured among themselves but did not want their head honcho to see their interest.

Joe took notice, "Yeah, a party! Isn't that right, guys?"

Tyrion was by now past the point of questioning Joe's antics. He just went with it.

"Oh yes," said Tyrion, as if rehearsing his lines, "It's quite the grand affair."

Joe smiled after receiving this much-required backup, "You see? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

However, the head honcho kitchen lady remained unimpressed, "Save your words for the Lady."

She then stepped around Joe and made her way for the exit.

"Bronn," said Joe, motioning with his eyes, "If you would be so kind—"

With a sigh, Bronn nodded and followed the head honcho into the halls. A moment later, he returned.

Joe cringed as he thought about Bronn's handiwork, ['I hope he was gentle this time.']

Once Bronn returned, Joe got into organizing mode. "Alright! I have a fantastic idea, but it will take some teamwork."

"What did you have in mind?" asked Tyrion, ever excited for a Joe surprise.

"We're going to need music," said Joe, "Bronn!"

"Hmm?"

"You remember that dude who accompanied us here? I think his name was Marinillo or some shit?"

"Aye, I know the one."

"Good. I need you to wake his ass up and meet us back at Tyrion's."

Bronn was slightly hesitant, "And if he doesn't feel like coming?"

"Pfft," scoffed Joe, "Trust me, that guy will want in on the action."

Then Joe faced his dwarf friend, "Tyrion!"

"Yes?"

"You take half of these girls and take some wine and whatever chairs you happen to find back to the cell."

By now, Tyrion had gotten some sense of what Joe was planning, "And you?"

"I'll bring the rest of the supplies, with the help of~~"

Joe then placed a finger on his bottom lip as he contemplated his options. There were five kitchen scullions. Perhaps two were young and comely, Joe's favourite being the Blondie, "Her!" he said, pointing at her, "And. . ."

The next prettiest was a somewhat plump girl with frizzy red hair that flared out of her dark-green coif cap, "That one!" Joe said to her.

That left Tyrion with the remaining three, who all looked at each other with slight puzzlement.

"Alright! You three accompany Tyrion here and follow his instructions. We'll meet back at the spot ASAP. Okay, go!"

And just like that, Joe switched into action, "You two," he said, snapping his fingers, "With me."

It took a moment for the rest of them to move. Even Tyrion stood still, looking at Joe like he was mad.

But Tyrion had no doubt there was a method to the madness, "Let's get moving, I suppose", he said with a sigh, "Wouldn't want to be late for my own party."

So it was. The kitchen scullions shrugged their shoulders before smiling childishly and doing as they were told.

Joe delegated tasks to both his girls; one was to help Joe bring the wine, while the other was to carry the baskets of bread. They got to their tasks with speed only natural to those who work the kitchens.

Despite Joe's assurance, any idiot could tell that what they were doing was naughty. But this only made the girls more complacent — a sojourn of rebellion, as it were.

They giggled and hushed like schoolgirls as they clumsily sneaked their way through the castle.