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Spoils for the Dragon King
Tyrion I
The great ship sailed into the harbour of Dragon's Nest, white sails ballooning with the wind, white foam breaking into sparkling sprays over the clean-scrubbed wood of its hull. A golden mountain on a red field flew proud in the wind above the mast, sailors rushing to and fro over the deck as they went about preparing their ship for harbour.
The master of the ship stood proudly on the foredeck, arms crossed before his chest, one foot jauntily placed on a low wooden box beside the rail, mismatched yet intelligent eyes fixed over the blue waves to the steadily-building visage of Dragon's Nest in the distance. The ship crested and broke over choppy waves, the sea rising in tumult to the strong wind, but the man stood unmoved by the rough going of his ship, windswept hair the colour of gold darkly gleaming in the high morning Sun, lips fixed into a roguish smile. He was the master. By his will fortunes rose and fell, at his command ships sailed and men marched to their fates, and by his words lords trembled. His name was…
"Lord Tyrion…!" an alarmed female voice rang out over the deck, and Tyrion Lannister scowled as he realized his 'minder' had finally caught up to him. Well it was inevitable really.
"My dear Jaime, why on Earth would you think it's a mountain? It's a hill."
"…a hill…really Tyrion?"
"Ah Mirillia…" Tyrion said, turning away from the rail and walking over to meet his stewardess, Mirillia of Braavos. "…what is so concerning that it requires that I halt my enjoyment of this fine sea air…?"
"Well first of all my lord considering how…choppy the waves are today, I would say that you should find someplace safer to enjoy the sea air. I doubt we'll be getting much thanks if we have to fish you out of the water because a particularly high wave rocked the ship hard enough that you went overboard."
"Actually you would…" Tyrion said, walking over to where he knew the customs crew would be coming aboard. "…you wouldn't leave floundering about in the water, would you now?"
"Of course not…" Mirillia said. "…getting back to the matter at hand there's the matter of the customs crew…"
"Yes, yes I know already. It's such a bother, but I suppose it's inevitable for a place that thrives on trade: tolls, fees, and taxes…ah, here we go!"
Tyrion stood and waited while the lighter customs ship moved alongside his ship, the trade ship Pride of the West, modest by all accounts but for Tyrion it was the foundation of his fortune, a gift from his brother Jaime seven years ago, and as such he had a special fondness for it in his heart. It might have to be replaced some years down the line as wear and tear to its toll, but until then he would cherish his ship.
It took a bit longer than usual for the customs crew – a fussy man with a Pentosi accent accompanied by a native boy as his assistant and a couple of guards – to come aboard. Pleasantries were exchanged, itineraries were inspected followed by the cargo itself, some coins openly (the customs fee) and discreetly (the bribe) changed hands, and finally Tyrion and his ship were allowed to go on their way.
"Capital, just capital…" Tyrion said cheerfully as he poured some wine from a skin into a cup, handed it to the captain with a nod, and then poured some more wine into another cup. "…would you care for a drink as well Mirillia?"
"Thank you my lord but no." she said with an apologetic smile. "You know that wine doesn't agree with me at sea."
"A shame that…" Tyrion noted, taking a drink and resuming his 'enjoyment' of the sea air until finally the ship was docking at one of the quays of Dragon's Nest's harbour. Mirillia had vanished a few minutes beforehand, and now returned labouring with a small crate.
"Hey…." Tyrion snapped to a sailor who didn't appear to be doing anything. "…where are your manners, man? Can't you see a lady in need?"
Grumbling, the sailor took the chest from Mirillia while Tyrion entrusted her with the offloading of the cargo – steel from Braavos, cloths from Lorath, glass, lace, and other finished goods from Myr, spirits and wines from Tyrosh and Volantis, luxury goods from Lys, and many other goods from the length and breadth of Essos – from their journey along the coast of Essos. After promising her that yes he would not allow himself to get distracted by the comforts of the Sunset Citadel and he would inspect their warehouses before sunset, Tyrion wandered off of his ship and down the ramp followed by the sailor with the securely-bound chest.
A man was waiting for him on the ground, accompanied by a horse and a pony. "Little brother…" Ser Jaime Lannister of the Dragonsguard said with a smile, a smile that Tyrion returned before the brothers enjoyed a hug.
"Jaime…" Tyrion said as he stepped back. "…it's good to see you again."
"Likewise…" Jaime said as he took the chest and raised an eyebrow at Tyrion.
"Oh don't give me that look." Tyrion huffed while dismissing the sailor with a silver throne and a gesture. "It's a gift, so I don't see why I should…provide extra for it."
"Well if you put it that way…" Jaime finally conceded, loading the chest onto his horse before mounting while Tyrion did likewise for his pony. "…what's in it?"
"The usual…" Tyrion answered as they rode up towards the city of Dragon's Nest. "…trinkets and curiosities for Rhaenys, maps for Aegon, books and scrolls for Jon and Daenerys, and of course something for dear little Daena."
"Still as evasive as ever, aren't you Tyrion?" Jaime said, and Tyrion gave a barking laugh.
"It wouldn't be a gift now if it weren't a surprise."
"There is no one here but you and me." Jaime said with a straight face, and Tyrion laughed before gesturing an arm around at the harbour.
"Rhaenys has eyes and ears everywhere dear brother." Tyrion said. "And of course there's her little hobby."
This time Jaime did laugh, as only Tyrion would call Rhaenys' dabbles in magic a 'hobby'. He didn't press the issue though, instead exchanging small talk and tales from Tyrion's journey even as they passed out of the harbour through Viserys' Gate – so named because six years ago here Viserys spilled his blood and used the power contained within to boil the blood of hundreds of Ironborn in their very veins – and into the city proper. It took a while before they entered the High Quarter of the city, and finally passed over the threshold of the Sunset Citadel, seat of the Prince of the Ember Islands and home to House Targaryen.
"Uncle Tyrion…!" a high-pitched voice rang through the air of the entrance hall, and Tyrion grinned as he braced himself to avoid getting knocked to the floor as his niece literally ran him into a hug.
"Daena…!" he said as he pushed the little girl away. "How have you been? Hopefully fit and happy, I would say. If not then shame on your father for not ensuring it is so."
Jaime threw a half-hearted glare at Tyrion, but Tyrion just shrugged it off. Eight year-old Daena Sand giggled, followed by the rich laughter of Princess Rhaenys Targaryen as she arrived accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting, all daughters of Valyrian-blooded noblemen who'd sworn allegiance to her brother and their house and had become lords of the Ember Islands. As usual the princess wore a loose-fitting dress of gold and red that exposed most of her arms and a generous amount of cleavage, while gold and rubies around her neck, ankles, and wrists flashed in the candlelight. Her ladies-in-waiting wore similar attire and apparel, though none as richly as their mistress.
"Your Highness…" Tyrion said with a short bow, and Rhaenys' lips curled into a smile.
"Lord Tyrion…" she returned formally. "…now that formalities have been settled, welcome back to Dragon's Nest, Tyrion."
"Likewise little Rhae…"
Rhaenys laughed and beckoned them further inside. "Not so little anymore…" Rhaenys said. "…though I imagine you'll be calling me that for a long while yet, isn't that right?"
"Well I wouldn't know about that." He replied, and everyone laughed.
The Sunset Citadel as it was renamed by Princess Rhaella Targaryen before her death was once the castle of Daemon Targaryen, King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, and was fairly-typical of Westerosi castles. The centuries had not been kind, but this was surprisingly of opportunity to the Targaryens, who had employed Essosi architects and engineers to not simply repair the caste, but to expand it, to strengthen its defences to a level equal to the keeps of the Seven Kingdoms, all with the luxuries expected of a Lyseni palace.
And they had succeeded. It had been expensive, but reconstruction of the Sunset Citadel had gone hand-in-hand with the settlement and development of the archipelago, so the financial burden wasn't nearly as bad as some had feared. Now an assault on Dragon's Nest would first have to get past the Targaryen fleet, then the harbour defences, then the individually-fortified terraces of the city, and then the fortifications of the High Quarter – further strengthened through generous donations by Prince Aegon's noble vassals – before any enemy could reach the Sunset Citadel's own walls.
It would be nothing less than a bloodbath.
"So…" Tyrion began. "…where is everyone?"
"Am I somehow boring you, Lord Tyrion?"
"Hardly…" Tyrion scoffed. "…you yourself are quite the sight to behold Your Highness, as are your ladies-in-waiting. And while I would not presume to your rank, they on the other hand…"
Tyrion winked and smiled at one of the ladies who caught his eye, and the girl blushed and giggled. "Please refrain from bedding my ladies Tyrion…" Rhaenys said, though with a note of amusement. "…we might not be as…backward as the Seven Kingdoms apart from Dorne can be, but still…we must keep some standards. Choose a paramour if you do not wish to be married, but be loyal to her. Ser Jaime is quite the example if I might be so bold."
Tyrion laughed at that though Jaime looked a bit embarrassed. Not as backward as Westeros…well he'd known that for a long time now. He'd only been twelve – barely two years after Robert's Rebellion – when he'd decided to take his chances and had fled Casterly Rock after stealing some gold for the journey to the Ember Islands.
Tywin Lannister had been furious of course, and had sent out search parties to bring him back. "Funny how much father despises me and yet kept me close." Tyrion thought. Tywin had believed that Tyrion would choose speed over caution, and would head south for Dorne via the Reach and thence to the Ember Islands, or with the cover of audacity make for King's Landing and thence by ship head for the Ember Islands.
He was wrong of course, and Tyrion had instead gone north to Gulltown, and thence by ship to Braavos. From there it was an overland trip down the coast of Essos to the Ember Islands, where he was received a year after his departure by a surprised Jaime.
The Targaryens had been a bit distrustful at first, but Jaime vouching for him had given him some breathing room, and eventually he had proven himself worthy of the dragons' trust. Despite his short stature and youth, he – along with the priestess-sorceress Melisandre and other scholars from Essos (not maesters the Targaryens didn't trust them though Tyrion couldn't blame them after the betrayal of Grand Maester Pycelle) – had had a role in the younger Targaryens' education.
But Tyrion had striven to prove himself as his brother had, and was ill-content to remain a guest of the Targaryen family. Jaime had noticed, and on his seventeenth name-day he'd been gifted a trade ship of his own and some starting money, and with it a chance to make a name for himself. And he had.
He wasn't quite a merchant prince yet, but he had sizeable sums to his name, and a good reputation among the ports of call along the Essosi coast. He also had in addition to the Pride of the West a second trade ship for long-distance journeys, and five smaller vessels for ferrying and other short trips along the archipelago of the Ember Islands between Essos and Dorne. Not bad for someone who'd only been plying the trade for seven years to date.
"Prince Oberyn is quite an example, too isn't he?" Jaime quipped. "There are eight Sand Snakes now, aren't they? All different mothers too."
"Uncle Oberyn is a special case." Rhaenys said with a cough, and the Lannister brothers shared a glance and a laugh.
"So where is the family?" Tyrion asked as they arrived at a shaded balcony with a lunch table prepared.
"Aegon and Viserys are sailing in the south." Rhaenys replied as she took her seat, followed by the others. "Apparently they're on their way back, but they'll be making straight for Sunspear and thence to the Water Gardens."
"Ah…and your mother and other brother…?"
"Jon and mother are at the Water Gardens already." Rhaenys said as servants began to serve lunch for the princess and her companions. "As for Daenerys…"
"She is here." Daenerys interrupted and returned her niece's nod of greeting. "Hello Lord Tyrion."
"Dany…" Tyrion said as he cheerfully returned her hug, the other Targaryen princess taking a seat beside Daena. "…so the wedding will proceed as planned then?"
"I certainly hope so." Jaime answered. "Not much point in going through all this effort only to squander it all in the end."
"I wonder what the Fat King thinks of all this." Tyrion mused as he broke a load in half.
"He's not happy, though that's to be expected." Rhaenys said with relish. "Apparently Jon Arryn tried to get it called off, but Uncle Doran managed to convince the man to let it go as a sign of peace."
"Apparently they're sending the one called Littlefinger – what a strange name – as the crown's representative to my brother and Princess Arianne's wedding." Daenerys put in. "Also, we've been invited to Renly Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell's wedding at Highgarden in a few months' time."
Tyrion choked on a piece of meat at that. "Renly…?" he echoed. "The Fat King must be desperate to bind the Tyrells to his house if the rumours about his brother are to be believed. And Littlefinger…is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"
"Officially it's because neither Robert nor Jon Arryn can spare anyone else from King's Landing right now." Jaime said. "It's quite obvious though that yes, this is a form of mockery in its own way."
"Let them mock us." Rhaenys said unconcernedly. "I have seen what I have seen."
Jaime and everyone else at the table looked a bit uncomfortable – except for Daena who was much too young to understand – at the reminder of her penchant for divination and magic. Eventually it was Daenerys who broke the silence. "Do they truly think that we would accept the invitation though?" she asked. "The tale of Aenys Blackfyre is not forgotten."
"Aegon has no inclination of accepting, and neither do I." Rhaenys said. "Do you?"
"No, but brother does."
"Viserys…?" Tyrion echoed. "That's…very incautious of him."
"Not really…" Daenerys disagreed. "…by then he'd be married to Princess Arianne, and Jon Arryn no even Fat Robert would never be so stupid as to insult House Martell by seizing and beheading the future ruling princess' consort and thus provoke a full-scale revolt. Not to mention Lord Stark will be attending. I doubt the man would tolerate much less accept such a course of action, and Fat Robert values his friend's opinion too greatly to provoke him."
"So Viserys will be safe safe then…" Tyrion said. "…well a prince compared to a petty lord…we're certainly honouring them more than they honour us."
"And in so doing prove their own inferiority." Daenerys said, and everyone shared a laugh.
"Ah, that reminds me…!" Tyrion said, and gestured at a nearby servant to bring his chest over along with a small table to place it on. He unlocked the chest and began to hand out his gifts.
"For Rhaenys, scrolls and reagents from the interior, Lys, and the city of shadows…"
"No reagents at the dining table…"
"Yes, yes, I know…which is why I had it placed in a box of its own."
Rhaenys smiled at that and accepted the offered box with soft words of gratitude, even as Tyrion continued with his giving. Books and scrolls of lore for Daenerys and Jon (even if Jon wasn't present to receive them), the two Targaryens most inclined to the scholarly side of life, though Jon was no slouch when it came to more, manly pursuits, and maps for Aegon, who even now was known by his people as the Mariner, for his love of the sea and ships, and the freedom of the open waves, and mechanical toys of astonishing complexity from Myr for little Daena.
"No gifts for me, little brother?" Jaime asked with faux hurt as they returned to their meal, and Tyrion looked shocked at him.
"Is not my presence after so long a present in itself, Jaime?" he asked, and Jaime laughed before patting his little brother heartily on the back. Eventually the meal came to an end, and a bemused Rhaenys took a sleepy Daena to her bed for an afternoon nap, Jaime went to see to his duties, and Tyrion decided to go and check up on Mirillia and his cargoes.
"Might I accompany you, Lord Tyrion?" Princess Daenerys Targaryen asked. "It's one thing to read of merchants and their comings and goings in books, but to see it is another."
"Indeed…" Tyrion agreed. "…very well, I will await you at the citadel's entrance while you go and make ready."
Daenerys nodded, and went off to prepare. Tyrion took a final drink of fine Dornish wine, and then he too went off to his own business.
A/N
It is now 297 AC.
Rhaenys (17)
Aegon (15)
Jon (14)
Dany (13)
Try and guess who Daena Sand's mother is. There's a reason she lives in the Sunset Citadel apart from the fact that her father is Jaime Lannister, and no, she's not a Sand Snake. And if any of you say its Rhaenys or Daenerys, shame on you. Jaime's not a pedophile.
