I felt the water crush into me swallowing me whole. Light came and went as I swallowed saltwater before my head fell below the water once again. A large current grabbed my leg and drug me deeply down before it threw me across the water. I felt the air leave my chest as I crashed into something hard, the water retreated as I clung and climbed on the thing protecting me. I heard voices as I crawled, the feeling of water coming less and less frequently. The sounds of feet increased as I crawled vision coming and going with every breath. The footsteps louder and louder until something grabbed my helmet. After a couple of tugs, it popped off as water came rushing out of my armor. I coughed and coughed as more water came out of my mouth. The hands rushed to turn me on my back and I continued to cough. What looked like a man and a boy stood over me, "Whā̆t īs jǒur name ā̆re-thẹ̄de wei-lā̆-wei?"
Westerosi? Why would a Valyrian be speaking Westerosi? The man repeated his question looking more frantic before I realized I need to reply so the man does not think I have drowned. "Ikei- I am Aerion Belaerys, where am I?" I asked as I switched from Valyrian to Westerosi.
The man laughed in the way most men do when the worst was avoided. "Aye nice to meet you, Ser Aaron, I am Jonjon, my son Roddick spotted you in the water when we were getting our rods ready. You washed up to Wolf's Catch, a small fishing village little south of Sea Dragon point." Jonjon said as he helped me stand up.
As soon as I stood nausea overtook me and I bent up and puked more water out of my stomach. "Ser... I found your sword and shield" said the timid boy who looked no more than two and ten. "Thank you, young Roddick." I looked at the man, "Mind if you lead me to your village." The man nodded as he beckoned his son to follow. They may be nothing more than peasants but they are still above the cur that is slaves. My musing was cut off by the man asking me more questions.
"How did you get here Ser? I doubt you swam from down south being a Targaryen and all." Jonjon's question took me by surprise, why would some peasant from Westeros mistake me for a Targaryen after I said I was a Belaerys.
"I do not know how I got here I must admit, I was escaping the destruction of my home in Valyria. I am also confused as to why you think I am a Targaryen however." I said with a slight simmer of anger.
Jonjon looked at me with a face of shock and slight respect in his eyes. "Valyria? That land is cursed milord you must be the first person to ever return from that retched land. Milord, I assumed you were Targaryen from white hair, only the King and his family have it. I can dye your hair milord if you would like so no one else assumes so. The merchants say the King is mad I tell you."
The Targaryen's being mad, what a surprise I thought sarcastically. I had to calm myself down before talking again after he called my homeland cursed. However, him calling me lord helped me calm down as he finally realized who was superior. I had to admit that dying my hair would not be a bad idea if the King is as mad as they say. "I will accept your offer to dye my hair" the man nodded as he took some ink sacks out of his bag, "I am curious about how you seem more educated than most."
"Aye, milord. I handle most of the trade through our village, I learned a bit from each merchant" I nodded as he finished dying my hair. "Blame my misadventure but I seem to have forgotten the date."
"Roddick give me the waterskin" yelled the man as his son gave him the water skin before pouring a bit on my hair to wash the excess ink. At my look, Jonjon sheepishly said, "Milord, I have to help my wife dye her hair…" he scratched his chin before saying, "As for the date it is the second moon of 280 After Conquest milord." As I was about to stand, he continues, "A Valyrian steel shield, the Old Gods must favor you. Valyria fell in 102 Before Conquest and I have never heard a rumor about one, even in the War of the Ninepenny Kings." Jonjon mutters before he starts to walk again.
My mind went blank and I was glad I was sitting because my legs instantly gave out. Three hundred and eighty-two years. I carefully stood as I followed Jonjon to the fishing village. Three hundred and eighty-two. Three hundred and EIGHTY-TWO. THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-TWO. Everything gone. Everyone gone. It took all I could to not cry. I was now the last Dragon Lord; I doubted a Targaryen was competent enough to keep one alive. Competent enough to invade Westeros but then again if one could not conquer a land with dragons they did not deserve to live. Forty Families were reduced to two. Three hundred and eighty-two. "Milord, we have arrived in the wonderful village of Wolf's Catch," I could tell Jonjon was relieved to be back home.
I'm glad I had my helmet on to cover the grimace I made looking at the village. I had seen slave pens grander than this, probably only 150 people lived here. The problem I could see from my quick glance was its placement. Too far from the sea to make a port and too close to the sea to be a farming town. The mountains could have minerals in them, based on the fact that no one seemed to have returned from Valyria; I doubted anyone learned our mining techniques. Targaryen withstanding but they were probably too dumb to remember. "It's got character I must admit. However, I can see why this is still a village, not a town." I simply stated. Depending on the opinion of the village's leader, I might become the Lord of this town. High Noble of Valyria to Lord of a Village what a fall from grace. I grimaced. "Milord, I can take you to the leader of the village if you wish," Jonjon stated.
"Aye," I nodded as we walked. The dismay left my body as I walked, Jaenara sacrificed herself so I could live. I will not discredit her memory by wasting away, plus having a village to myself could not hurt if I wanted a place to train a Dragon.
The walk to the longhouse was short and quiet, I enjoyed it. As we entered the longhouse, the sounds of drinking seemed to die down almost instantly. I cracked a smile inside my helmet, the joys of appearance. The men and women probably thought I was going to demand taxes or war levies, it still cheered me up after- Three hundred and eighty-two-. "Presenting Lord Aaron Belaerys" yelled Jonjon.
I could feel the tension in the air increase drastically, it was time to play politics. "Everyone, do not worry I am not collecting taxes or levies." I could feel the tension drop instantly. "I have simply washed up on the shore, Jonjon and son Roddick helped save me," I started to pace around the entrance. It was time to drop the bomb. "I simply went to Valyria and the ocean spit me back out." The longhouse erupted some cried of joy, others said I was favored by the Old Gods, some rose a cup of ale in respect, and a few seemed to tense up. As I was about to continue a boy came running in yelling, "IRONBORNE! 200 RAIDERS SPOTTED A DAY AWAY" before grabbing someone's ale and downing it. Ignoring their cry of agitation, the mood changed again this time angry and depressed.
"We are doomed!" "Run for the hills!" "We fight and we die!" "Time to kill some squids!" The leader stood up and yelled, "EVERYONE SHUT UP AND SIT!" the room instantly quieted.
"My friend, if you wish I could help you defend your village. I was trained in combat and tactics." My training being fighting slave rebellions non-withstanding.
"Milord, I would have nothing to give you. All we have i- I could give you the village. It may be small but- it could grow." The leader finished lamely.
That is exactly what I was hoping for, maybe the Old Gods did favor me. Either way, I did not want to look a gift horse in the mouth. "That sounds like an excellent idea, I would be glad to help you grow." The joy at the thought that the leader may die in combat was kept hidden. Who did not love leadership changes after all? As I shook the man's hand, all I could think was Belaerys will rise again.
