Sister's Keeper
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 14: Seeking Investments
I practice with my sword in the gardens. The last couple of nights have been stressful, that I had a hard time sleeping. My mind utterly active in the news from the West, Xaro Xhoan Daxos offering marriage to fund my campaign, and Ser Jorah have feelings for me. I genuinely need Visenya's guidance on this. Once more, the dreams don't come. If I were to talk to Daenerys…she would insist on Xaro's offer.
Xaro Xhoan Daxos seems to have potential. His has the money that can provide an armies and ships. The problem was…I lose my independence. I lost five years of my life being married to Viserys. A forced marriage might I add since my brother raped me. Doing this was supposed to prevent the exposure of my ruining. When in fact he ruined me. Five years of being raped and abused. Now I have my freedom, and less than a year a man who bled for me is offering marriage to reclaim my birthright.
Ser Jorah made an excellent argument. In order to claim Westeros, my armies need to be Westerosi. If it weren't for the caution of Varys spies everywhere, I would have sent letters to possible allies in Westeros. House Martell and House Velaryon. The Martells and Velaryon are a distant cousin. House Velaryon being descendants of Old Valyria and the Martells not only married their Princess to my brother, but my ancestor Daenerys married Prince Maron Martell, and Princess Mariah Martell married King Daeron the second who was my fifth great grandfather. I recalled playing with an older girl, her name was Arianne, Prince Doran's daughter. If I can find a way to contact them, to seek support then maybe I have a chance of getting Westerosi armies.
However, I still need armies from Essos. The best army that I am aware of is the Golden Company, doubt they would support the Targaryens since they are descendants of the men who supported the Blackfye. Let alone Bittersteel stealing the ancestral sword Blackfyre. Then again, they fight for gold until it runs out. Once more I have no money. Even if there was gold in the Targaryen Vaults, no doubt Robert Baratheon and his family spent it all. Leaving me nothing but a name, a claim, and a birthright. All three in what rich men want in the step of status.
"Alysanne," Daenerys called out from her bedroom balcony.
I stopped my training and turned looking up at her, "What is it, Danny?"
Daenerys came downstairs and stood in front of me. I sheathed my sword and looked at her. She seemed a bit exhausted, as if not having enough sleep. The last few days, we haven't spoken to each other. Not after the heated debated with Ser Jorah about Xaro's offer.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For what?" I asked.
"For pressuring you to accept Xaro's offer," she answered. "I was basically doing what Viserys has done to me."
I sighed, resting a hand on her shoulder, "I had the same intentions for you, married to a rich man. Although Viserys heard warlord, I tried to match you someone suitable and might have known. But all is forgiven. I know you want to go home, as do I, but we are participating in a deadly game."
"I don't understand," she said.
"When you play the game of thrones, you win, or you die. There is no middle ground." I told her. "One mistake, and it will be the end of House Targaryen."
Daenerys nodded.
I decided to test her, "Black stag, on a golden field?"
"Huh?" she replied.
"What house has a black stag on a golden field?" I asked.
"Baratheon," she answered.
"A golden lion, on a crimson field?"
"Lannister."
"A grey direwolf, on a white field?"
"Stark."
"A gold spear piercing a red sun on an orange field."
"Martell."
"A golden rose, on a green field?"
"Tyrell."
"A white falcon volant and crescent moon on a blue field?"
"Arryn," she said.
"Red Salmon within a gold treasure, on a white field."
"Tully."
"No, I described House Mooton. House Tully is a leaping silver trout on a field of blue and red. You need to know Westeros. We can't rely on birthright. Aegon did not claim the Seven Kingdoms out of birthright. No, he took it, and he learned about his enemies. Father left a heavy shadow over us, one that is difficult from removing. We can't invade Westeros like children. We need to be smart and take things one step at a time, and thinking three steps ahead. When we have the money, I will find you a tutor. Educate you on Westeros."
"Can't Ser Jorah teach me, he is an Andal after all." She said.
I bark up a laugh.
"What?" she asked confused.
"The Dothraki calls him an Andal because they believe all Westerosi are Andals," I explained. "Do you know which Kingdom Bear Island belongs too?"
"Um…the North," she guessed.
"And who are the Norths inhabitants."
"…the Northmen."
"And the Northmen are descendant from?"
Daenerys paused thinking about it. I sighed, knowing I got a lot to teach her about Westeros, "The First Men. The Andals do not partake in the cold. Barely few Andals married up North. Jorah told me, his family is more First Men than Andal. The same for Dorne being more Rhoynish."
"I did not know that," she said. "Again, how do you know all this."
"I read, and all the tutors we had growing up focus on Westerosi history. You were busy playing games." I teased.
Daenerys stuck her tongue at me. "I did not receive a formal education."
"I know, and it's one mistake Viserys made," I told her. "Once we have funding, I will find you a tutor."
"But I'm seventeen, I don't need a tutor," she countered.
"You're acting more like your shoe size than age," I sighed.
Daenerys pouted knowing I was right. "What is your plan now?"
"Xaro has arranged several appointments with the Thirteen," I announced. "Will be meeting with the Spice King, the Silk King, the Copper King, and the Wine King tomorrow. Hopefully, I can arrange a meeting with the Gold King, the Salt King, and Ivory King soon, the others still have not responded to my letters. If I can get a few of these men to invest in our campaign, then we should have a good start. Otherwise, we either wait for Magister Illyrio send a ship to collect us, or Ser Jorah finds us one."
"Is that why Ser Jorah has been absent?" Daenerys asked.
"Yes, he's seeing if he can find us one ship at least," I answered.
"Can I help with these appointments?" Daenerys asked.
I paused thinking about it. Based on Daenerys behavior, I worry her temper will not set a good example. Her outburst at the gate almost cost the Khalasar their lives. Then I thought about the Copper King and his wife, Kristina. They got along just well. So hopefully a conversation with the Copper Family will gain some investments.
"I'm sure you can handle the Copper King," I decided. "But you can't let your temper get the best of you. Even if they reject to lend ships or investing in our cause."
"What can we promise them in return?" she asked.
"Triple the payment, no docking fees in Westeros or taxes," I listed, along with other options. "But whatever you do, do not sell your body or betrothals. You are still in mourning, and it hasn't been a year yet."
Daenerys nodded, although that tradition may die out. Usually, when a woman is a widow, she waits a year in mourning before seeking another husband if she or the patriarch of her family desire it so. It was a sign of respect towards the late husband. A period to grieve. However, I noticed Daenerys hasn't grieved for some time. In the early weeks, she mourned dearly. But once we escaped the Red Waste, she appears less emotional. Then again, I didn't grieve for Viserys. I mourned for my brother, but not my brother-husband. The boy he once was, not the man he became.
"Out of curiosity, what do you think of Ser Jorah?" she asked changing the subject.
"Danny," I groaned.
Daenerys smirked, "You like him."
"Shut your mouth, or I'll push you in the pool." I threaten.
Daenerys smirk widens as she started to sing, "You like him. You want to kiss him. You want to hug him."
"That's it, you're so dead!" I snapped and started chasing her.
Danny laughed, as she tried to escape. We ended up at one of the fountains as she started splashing water at me. I gasped, not expecting that and splash right back. Just like in Volantis we acted like children in the water. Having our own version of Dance of the Dragons. In the end, we were utterly soaked. We laughed at how drench we were. Being so long to be fooled once again.
.o0o.
Xaro and I stood in the main entrance of the Spice King's palace. Aggo standing in the corner, hands resting on his weapons as a precaution. It was close to midmorning, and we arrived here almost an hour ago. A considerate hour, enough to prepare and not disturb the owner at the early hours. However, I find this long wait a bit disrespectful. Someone being five, ten, twenty minutes late is one thing. But almost an hour I found it rude. Several servants came over offering refreshments, but I kindly declined.
"Is waiting for a long time is part of Qarth's custom or is he being disrespectful," I muttered, standing beside Xaro.
"The Spice King is the second wealthiest man in Qarth. He makes everyone wait," Xaro said, standing there patiently. "Of course, you could have avoided this embarrassment if you married the wealthiest man in Qarth."
"I had a husband," I sighed.
"Viserys is gone, Alysanne." Xaro reminded. "You are far too young to be a widow forever and far too beautiful."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere," I murmured.
"I have traveled very far in my life and met many women, but none that are immune to flattery," Xaro replied.
"The Dragoness of the West!" a man yelled.
"Ah. Here he comes," Xaro said.
At the top of the steps, it was none other than the Representative who denied Daenerys and her Khalasar accesses to Qarth. The Man who tried to pet Viserion without consent. He's the Spice King! Straight away I knew this appointment will be a dead end. He came down with his company, the man utterly excited like Magister Illyrio when Viserys, Daenerys, and I arrived at his Manse.
"Forgive me. I had terrible dreams last night," the Spice King apologies, leaning against the rails. "Terrible dreams. I could not sleep until the sun was shining and the birds were singing."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I replied. "Hopefully tonight sweet dreams shall succumb to you."
The Spice King Smiled, "Look what a beauty you are now the Red Waste has been washed off you. I am sorry about all the unpleasantness. The silver hair of a true Targaryen." He walked down the stairways, "Xaro Xhoan Daxos, she is far too lovely for a glorified dockworker like yourself."
"Very true, and yet they say that your grandfather, who sold pepper off the back of a wagon, married a lady far lovelier and higher born than himself." Xaro challenged playfully.
"Every lady alive was lovelier and higher born than my grandfather," The Spice King played along, causing his company to chuckle. I cleared my throat to get everyone back on track. The Spice King looked at me, "Did my servants not offer you something to eat, to drink? I'll have them flogged in the square."
"Thank you, my lord. You are a gracious host, but there is no servant alive that can bring me what I require." I said.
"Hmm. She has a talent for drama, this one," the Spice King murmured. "So, my little queen, what is it you want?"
"My claimant. The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros." I answered.
"I fear I'm no better than a servant in this regard. I cannot give you what I do not have," the Spice King said.
"I'm not asking you for the kingdoms," I clarified. "I am asking you for your support and lending some of your ships."
"I need my ships as well," The Spice King replied, looking down on me. "I use them, you see, to bring spices from one port to another."
"I understand, and if you grant me this request, you will be repaid three times over when I retake the Iron Throne," I told him.
"Retake?" the Spice king asked. "Did you once sit on the Iron Throne?"
"Yes," I answered, presenting the Targaryen Ring. "My father, King Aerys the Second sat on it along with his forefathers. This ring states who the rightful ruler is, sir. I do not command, I do not order, and I demand of you to give me your ships. I am asking from a queen to a king."
The Spice King came down till he stood on the last steps, "Let me explain my position, your grace. Unlike you, I do not have exalted ancestors. I make my living by trade. And I judge every trade on its merits. You ask for ships. You say I shall be repaid triple. I do not doubt your honesty or your intentions. But before you repay your debts, you must seize the Seven Kingdoms. Do you have an army?"
"No," I replied.
"You do not have an army." He sighed. "Do you have powerful allies in Westeros?"
"My cousins from House Velaryon and possibly House Martell," I said.
"When were you there last?" He asked.
"When I was four," I answered.
"So, in truth, you have no allies," the Spice King concluded. "Forgive me, your grace, but I cannot make an investment based on wishes and dreams."
"By any chance, do you know Illyrio Mopatis, Magister of Pentos?" I asked.
"Yes, we've met. A shrewd man," the Spice King answered.
"On my sister's wedding, he gave her three petrified dragon eggs. He believed…the world believed that the ages had turned them to stone. How many centuries has it been since dragons roamed Essos? My sister put those eggs into the fire, she was unhurt. By dawn, three dragons have been resurrected from extinction. They say seeing is believing, but you saw with your own eyes, that believing is seeing."
The Spice King took my hand and kissed it, "I admire your passion. But in business, I trust in logic, not passion. I'm sorry, your grace."
"I understand, thank you for this opportunity to speak," I said.
"If you were to make progress on your campaign, then I might consider making an investment," he added.
I nodded, "Good day, my lord."
The Spice King nodded, as he gave my hand a squeeze before joining his company back into the palace. I sighed, seeing his perspective. He was not a monarch, even though he earned the name the Spice King. He is a man, and every business decision can reward him or ruin his company. Nothing else to say, I walked over to Xaro who escorted me out of the Spice King's property.
"I made an appointment with the Silk King, he may consider your offer," Xaro announced.
"I appreciate your support," I said.
"Although, my offer still stands," he inquires.
"A conqueror with much determination," I murmured.
Xaro chuckled slightly, as we got on the horses and started riding to the Silk Kings estate. Hopefully, the Silk King can make a difference. Any of the Thirteen can make a difference. If not, Ser Jorah needs to find that ship so we can sail out of this city to find better supporters. Otherwise, my last resort is marrying Xaro Xhoan Daxos.
.o0o.
At Xaro's Palace.
Irri was in the gardens mending some of their traveling clothes. Although she had the opportunity to relax, enjoy visiting Qarth and spend time with the Khalasar she needed a distraction. Rakharo death made her heart heavy, her mourning taking a sharp blow. Even though her Khaleesi did a Dothraki funeral, she is afraid of burning, and extra offering won't be enough to let Rakharo ride with his ancestors in the Night Land.
So Irri distracted herself by doing errands and chores. Taking her talents in sewing, as she repairs her mistress clothing and Alysanne. Noting some of the tears were from the dragon's claws. Nothing too extreme, a simple stitch here and there. She finished mending Alysanne vest, the one that Viserys cut and added designs to mend away the terrible event. Once done, she got up and brought it to the Dragoness bedchamber, setting it on the bed, excited for the compliment her friend will give.
A purr caught her attention, turning to the cage where the golden dragon sat watching her. Irri smiled, as she came over and took cube meat and set it inside. Viserion's eyes widen in delight as he came over and tried to breathe fire. The flames came out in flickers, not as strong as Drogon's fire, but enough to cook the raw meat. Irri chuckled, adjusting the cover to let the dragon rest.
Suddenly she heard a noise coming from Daenery's bedroom.
"Khaleesi, Khaleesi, are you back?" Irri called out entering the solar room that joined the Dragon Sisters' bedchamber.
She entered Daenerys bedchamber seeing Drogon and Rhaegal acting up, but they weren't in their cages, but one on the ground. She ran across the room to see what is the matter. Not realizing Doreah was there walking behind her. The woman from Lys took a silk tassel cord and immediately wrapped it around Irri's throat. The Dothraki woman, gasped, trying to pull the cord away, yet Doreah kept a stronghold.
"A trader from Qarth told me the greatest pleasure comes from a silk cord around the neck. Tied very, very tight! The reason so few people indulge in this exquisite pleasure. He told me the dangers, a moment too long, the ecstasy becomes death," Doreah murmured into Irri's ear.
With one sharp tug on the rope, Doreah snapped Irri's neck. A soft crack could be heard, as Irri's body went limp. "It is known."
She carelessly dropped Irri on the ground along with the silk tassel. Pleased that the Dothraki woman was dead. Consider Irri a thorn in her thigh, lecturing her what it means to be a handmaiden. The Woman from Lys turned to Drogon and Rhaegal. During her conversations of gathering information about Xaro Xhoan Daxos, the Warlock had made her an offer she cannot refuse. Give him the dragons, and she shall be a rich wife to one of the Thirteen. A Merchant Queen.
Doreah, in the beginning, loved her Khaleesi. After she was bought by Magister Illyrio to be Viserys mistress. A wealthy mistress who pleased the dragon, far better than Alysanne. The clothes, jewelry, and a title. All she had to do is keep out of Alysanne sight. The year as a Mistress was terrific. Until Viserys married Daenerys to the Khal Drogo, and all that luxury vanished. Doreah did what Viserys asked, teaching Daenerys how to be a great lover, and yet her payment was a strike in the face.
Don't get her wrong, she loves her Khaleesi, but those weeks in the Red Waste nearing starvation was her last straw. She will not travel across the world for a throne when there is more opportunity here in Qarth. So, putting on leather gloves, she cautiously put Drogon and Rhaegal in the cage. She then went to Alysanne room, collecting Viserion who attempt to bite and scratch her. Doreah winced in pain roughly shoving the beast in the cage with his brother.
Securing a cover over the cage, she walked down the steps to see a man clad in white and grey robes covered in blood. She stumbled back thinking she was next, until seeing through the opening of his mask it was the Warlock.
"As promised," Doreah said, handing the dragons over.
"As promised," Pyat Pree agreed. "You know where to go?"
Doreah nodded.
"Stay there until further instruction," Pyat Pree ordered before vanishing before Doreah's eyes.
Doreah blinked from the magic she witnessed.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
After a very long day of meeting members of the Thirteen, it seems the day has been a waste. Xaro still trying to pursue me, helped me off my horse. Once on my feet, a purple palanquin arrived and Daenerys stepped out. She smiled slightly as she came over to us. We began to walk through the palace gardens.
"How were your appointments?" Daenerys asked.
"The Spice King refuses me because I'm a bad investment. The Silk King won't support me because of his business with the Lannisters. Why offend his best customers? And the Wine King offers me a single ship on the condition that I lie with him for a night." I answered.
"Does he think we'll whore ourselves for a boat?" Daenerys muttered.
"What news do you bring of the Copper King?" I asked her.
"He is considering to invest in funding, but no ships." She answered.
"It's a start," I sighed. "But not enough. Hopefully, the Gold King, Ivory King, Salt King, and the others can be more supportive. If only our family were smart enough to make an account in the Iron Bank would things be easier."
"When I came to this city, I had nothing. Truly nothing. I slept by the docks. And when I could find work loading the ships, I would eat. If not, I dreamed of food." Xaro said. "Today, I am the richest man in Qarth. Do you think the path from poverty to wealth is always pure and honorable? I have done many things, your grace, that a righteous man would condemn. And here I am, with no regrets."
Mother's crown came to mind. Having no regrets on selling it, knowing it provided enough to survive for a year before the next host took us in. It would have been two to three more years if Viserys wasn't so spoiled. Enough time to find work and relationships.
Xaro opened the gates to the gardens of the East Wing. Daenerys and I entered, but stopped seeing Qartheen guard's dead on the ground. All their throat slit, no other injury. Daenerys gasped, as she started running.
"Bar the gates," Xaro ordered his guards who had to accompany him. "Ring the bells."
"Daenerys!" I called out to her, drawing my sword, as Aggo, Kovarro, and I went after her.
We rushed through the gardens, in the Dothraki quarters, we found several members laying on the ground. I stopped placing a hand over Malakko's face feeling the breath. Looking around, seeing food and wine splutter everywhere assumed it was laced with a sleeping potion or opiates. This concluded that this was not a targeted genocide. So, what could've happened…shit, the most valuable things in the world are here. The dragons.
We ran, seeing three Dothraki guards found dead on the steps. We entered my quarts seeing Viserion's cage on the ground. I hurried over, removing the blanket finding Viserion missing. Daenerys gasped, rushing to her quarters seeing the two cages absent and Irri on the ground.
"Where are they?" Daenerys demanded, going over to Irri.
I came over placing a hand on Irri's face to see if she was breathing. No warm air, that is when I saw it. A deep bruise ringed around her neck. She was strangled.
"Where are my dragons?" Daenerys screamed.
Yes, where are our dragons?
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