Chapter Two: The Future.
Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by George R. R. Martin, or his publishing company, or HBO.
OOOO
Sansa Stark could hardly believe her luck. The giddy excitement would have certainly shone through on her face if it were not such a decidedly undignified expression. She could hardly comprehend that only a year had passed since Lady Seastar was found in their Crypts, and consequently proved herself an honorary member of House Stark. Not only had the Great Bastard replaced Septa Mordane as Sansa's tutor, as well as Arya's far more recently, but she had become something of an economic advisor to the North as well. Every task that was sent Shiera Seastar's way she dissected with dauntless glee. Hence, why the pair found themselves nearing the walls of White Harbor.
"Remember that we are not dealing with Flints, or Glovers, my dear girl," Shiera whispered as the gates opened, referencing their prior trips in the North. Despite only being at most twelve years older than Sansa the woman always exuded a calm, motherliness that never failed to comfort. "The Manderlys are your Lord father's most loyal bannermen, yet they are Southron through-and-through. They play well enough at politics. Do not let them think you a pawn." The girl gave a stringent nod in response, though smiled with deceptive brightness at the arrival of their escort all the same.
"My Ladies," An overweight Manderly tottered towards them after plopping off of his horse, "I am Wendel Manderly, son of Lord Wyman. It is my pleasure to open our gates for a delegation of Winterfell." Sansa noted how his piggish eyes clung lustfully upon Shiera's buxom form, only to glance upon her in a similar manner. She was used to her father's bannermen attempting to wile her attentions away in their directions. It was hardly an unforgivable offense, and she recalled Shiera explaining that such regards were indicative of influence.
Keeping that firmly in mind she smiled genially at the spare heir of White Harbor. "Your hospitality has been duly noted, Ser Wendell. Both Lady Shiera and I greatly appreciated the additional forces House Manderly sent to bolster our procession." A truly unneeded consideration with the two-hundred Stark-men her father had already sent along, honestly, though still worthy of praise all the same. "Now," She clapped with enthusiasm that certainly was not disingenuous, "I find myself quite eager to see what beauty these gates are hiding from us." Plenty of splendor, it was later proven, hid within White Harbor.
While Shiera enquired with Ser Wendel about the imminent arrival of the Lyseni party, Sansa admired all the sights. She waved winningly at the peasants who crowded the fish markets for a glance at the procession. In between buildings the eldest daughter of House Stark spotted the beautiful, cold ocean beyond. Noting the Seal Rock her First Man ancestors had manned millenia before, now used to ward pirates from the fifth largest port in Westeros. Then there was the Wolf's Den which once belonged to the Greystarks, whom her forefathers had righteously put to the sword. Built against that ancient prison was New Castle, towering from the very top of the hill. Hiding a sigh Sansa prepared herself for the careful exchange of words and courtesies which awaited inside.
No matter how well they hid it the majority of the Northern bannermen were ambitiously minded. Fighting and clawing at one another behind the shadow of Winterfell for a way to dominate their neighbors. Lady Shiera had been certain to rid Sansa of her Stark-naivety immediately upon assuming the role of governess. Now the young woman knew fully well that everything came at a price, including the Maderly's hospitality. Waiting inside of the courtyard were the rest of Wendel's family. His brother Wyllis was just as, if not more severely so, fatter. Both of the man's daughters were surprisingly willowy and were easy enough on the eyes. Wynafryd with her long brown braid and cunning eyes, while Wylla embraced the strangest shade of green in her own hair.
A quick glance from Shiera was all it took for Sansa Stark to move into action. Feigning shyness she demurely asked for Wendel to introduce her to his nieces. The beautiful, legitimized, Targaryen bastard wasted no time inserting herself between the easily-beguilable Wyllis and his wife. Doubtlessly trying to extract information from him about the Lyseni party which had beaten their own arrival by a whole day. Batting both pairs of eyelashes at Wendel kept the second-born sod from interfering while the Manderly sisters were easily distracted by the fine-stitching on Sansa's gown. This was how her trips to Torrhen's Square and Widow's Watch had went. Shiera manipulating the true decision makers while Sansa practiced her courtesies on those who attempted to interfere with the Great Bastard's schemes.
"Our Lord father bought the freedom of a Myrish lace maker many years ago," Wylla chimed with an eagerness to impress, "You must show her such work, Lady Sansa. She refuses to teach us anything and claims we are as good at stitching as donkeys!" Smiling at the younger Manderly girl's honest candor Sansa was reminded of Arya. Her heart ached sorely, for her sister had wished to visit White Harbor dearly, but the nature of their visit had not been suitable for children.
"Yes," Wynafryd shot something akin to a reprimanding stare in Wylla's direction, "Kiera is quite outspoken. Though she does contribute her weight in gold to the coffers every year with all that lace." Clearly the sisters were rivals which made perfect sense to Sansa. She and Arya suffered a normal competitiveness, but neither of them were ever expected to inherit Winterfell. These two Manderly girls no doubt envied the freedom and power one another respectively possessed. As they entered into New Castle the conversation took a turn. "Wait until you see them all, Lady Sansa," Wynafryd murmured titterishly, "Those Lysene Lords are quite dishy."
Excitement rising again Sansa folded both hands gracefully in front of her as they swept inside of the Merman's Court. A Great Hall far grander than the one sported by Winterfell. All manner of sea creatures were carved skillfully upon the wooden walls. Sitting at the head of the table was Wyman Manderly. The fattest man she had ever seen which also explained his absence from the reception. Surrounding him, however, were all manner of guests from Lys. All were men, and all were indeed incredibly handsome with Valyrian features. Knowing better than to giggle improperly alongside Wylla, Sansa stood with far more elegance than even Wynafryd displayed. At this point Shiera Seastar swept forwards lissomely to address the kinsmen who had travelled so far to meet her.
"Thank you for welcoming Lady Stark and myself into your splendid home, Lord Manderly," She curtseyed deeper than even Sansa could manage. The cloth-of-silver about her voluptuous body clung tightly at the new movement in a very sensuous manner. As Wendel suffered heart palpitations the Stark girl stepped forth easily to curtsey beside her governess. "I must also thank our Lyseni guests for arriving with such promptness to my request." The handsome gaggle of men all nodded at the pair.
"Before we commence with the feast I have a gift I would like to present you Lady Stark." Sansa was surprised of course that someone was gifting her instead of the Lady Seastar. How could Lord Manderly choose to flatter Ned Stark's daughter over a beauty enigmatically resurrected after a century-long absence? She realized slowly enough, as servants carted out a massive crate, that this display of generosity was only because Shiera had already been given a most precious gift. The woman would soon be conducting plenty of business within White Harbor after all. At the fat Lord's behest the wooden vessel was cracked open to reveal a most glorious sight. "This years' finest imports of fabrics from the Free Cities. Suitable for a Stark of Winterfell, and the daughter of my liege Lord!"
The girl felt somewhat guilty at first for stealing such a fine bounty from the Manderly women. Yet that dissipated away easily enough at the recollection that they had probably been gifted such lovely silks their entire lives. While Sansa's father never forced his children to dress like peasants by any means the coffers of Winterfell were always invested towards survival. These lovely materials would certainly allow her to begin crafting a recognizable style such as the one Shiera maintained. One which warranted the attentions of suitors from all over Westeros, and even Essos. This thought prompted her to remember the important Lyseni men who were all watching carefully, and her impeccable courtesies. "Lord Manderly. Your limitless kindness has impressed upon myself the accuracy in my Lord father's claims that House Manderly is amongst our most loyal vassals. So long as it is within my power I shall attempt to prove how greatly House Stark appreciates the Mermen of White Harbor."
He raised his cup of wine high in the air at that, "To the Starks do my kith and kin owe everything." All around the hall both the Manderly nobles and guards released a synchronised cry of affirmation. Sansa already recognized that she would have to repay the man in her own way, in a way which revealed the Stark's recognition of their staunchest supporter. Glancing to the left she noted how Shiera's chin was twisted upwards with a slightly haughty air. Indicating that she approved of her pupil's handling of the Manderlys.
From beside Lord Manderly stood one of the Lyseni visitors, who had all remained silent during the raucous toast. "My compatriots and I," His voice was gorgeous, like flowing liquid which trickled pleasantly down Sansa's spine, "Have also brought gifts. Some to symbolize the new partnership between Lys and the Starks, as well as a few for the beautiful Lady Stark." His gaze danced quickly upon Shiera before lingering for a moment on Sansa. She worried momentarily over the improperness of such a long glance, but in a moment of weakness allowed herself to examine his features. Midnight-black hair, which was remarkably wavy for being cut so short, drew his vibrantly coloured, lilac eyes into a position of easy visibility. Servants of similar colouring to the Lyseni men perched above entered the hall soon after.
Sansa felt her heart beating heavily in response to the strange man's foreign countenance. Attempting to retain some semblance of dignity she swept backwards to watch the procession alongside the Manderly girls. Several cases of red and white wine, lovely tapestries, fine dirks which Wendel peered at covetously, more fabrics, spices, and many other luxuries were carted forth. Lord Manderly seemed highly displeased at having been upstaged by his guests in wooing the Starks.
At the very end of this procession came a beautiful Lysene woman. Her Valyrian looks were no match for Shiera's, yet she was still quite the jawdropper. On either side of this beauty stood two final servants who both held identical trunks. "We gift Lady Sansa the finest scents from our greatest perfumers," One of the trunks was opened to reveal many ornate bottles. The other cracked open giving a glimpse of a large, golden necklace set with large stones that flickered many colours. "A necklace set with the largest opals from our newest mining venture," His alluring voice continued, "And one of the loveliest courtesans to serve as her handmaiden."
Sansa knew what to say if a Queen sneezed, or how to act if a Lord Paramount tripped. Though her impressive knowledge of customs were incapable of yielding a suitable thing to say to this, clearly, wealthy Lyseni man. He doubtlessly wanted something from her with such extravagant gifts. "The Lady Stark will find much use from such beauteous gifts," Lady Seastar saved her charge from having to stutter out a proper response, "Though the North is pleased enough at the opportunity to build relations with Lys." He responded in kind while those eyes continued to stare into Sansa's blue eyes. She made a mental note to discuss the peculiar development with Shiera later prior to being shuffled into a seat of honor.
The piles of priceless gifts left in the middle of the hall as though to taunt her with the questions which surrounded them.
OOOO
"You did well yesterday, dear San," Shiera complimented her when Andarra, the Lyseni handmaiden, finally left to fetch a basin of water. They sat on Sansa's bed staring at the mound of presents sitting against the wall. Lord Manderly had given them a large set of chambers to share on Shiera's polite insistence. She was quite appreciative of it too as the the thought of being completely alone with a Lyeni courtesan was unnerving. "Drazenko Rogare took an obvious liking to you, unexpected yet certainly not unwelcome." As Lady Seastar spoke her elegant fingers worked to curl Sansa's auburn locks with a device from Lys. Both Shiera and Andarra insisted that the foreign style had been popular in the Free City for centuries.
"Why did he take such an interest in me?" The Stark girl asked, "I thought that he would try to win your favour with gifts. Given that he is here to negotiate a business relationship with you." Her quavering foot betrayed the nervousness which Shiera advised her to hide only a year earlier.
"You forget that many are already aware of my reputation. They simply need to read a book of history to know that gifts did my other suitors no favours. Only foolish women are tricked by such displays, and I am certainly no foolish woman." Shiera whirled the metal device tightly about another lock of red. "You, however, are as of yet unproven. Already growing into the loveliest of many Tullys I have encountered. Closely related to Lord Paramounts of three Westerosi kingdoms, one of whom is Hand to Robert Baratheon. My protegee in the finer arts of plotting and ambitions." The auburn curls were allowed to fall upon Sansa's shoulders as her governess stood to finish dressing herself. "Drazenko Rogare is hardly the first, or last, suitor you have caught the eye of. But he is certainly the most powerful you have encountered so far. Merely remember that in this dance of passions you are the one with all of the knives."
She wheeled the girl over to the corner where her prized mirror leant against a dusty vanity. It was a lovely object recovered from the cache which had been discovered in the Crypts of Winterfell. Sansa found it very easy to understand why her tutor went to such pains to bring it everywhere she travelled. Her mind was wrenched away from the mirror itself only a split-second later, and instead towards the face looking back. Loose curls of a brilliant auburn fell across both shoulders, catching the light like peet in a flame. "I have decided that it is time to test what you have truly learned, Sansa," Shiera announced suddenly, spritzing some of the Lyseni perfume into her new curls. "We shall see how you fare against Wyman Manderly, and those Lyseni suitors."
Andara returned only a few moments later bringing an abrupt halt to their whisperings. Not much later did Sansa find herself entering Lord Manderly's extravagant solar with her governess leading the way. The Maester, a Lannister, was only too happy to assist with pulling her respective seat out. Though he clearly loathed to do the same for Shiera whom many southerners viewed as a threat to the Realm's peace. Not much could be done with Jon Arryn staunchly supporting the Stark's efficient economic advisor, so no matter how reluctant he pretended gallantry all the same. "Before we begin, Lord Manderly," The silver-gold haired beauty addressed the Lord sitting across from them, "I must deliver a proclamation that Lord Stark has recently enacted."
"He wishes for a rotation of Northern soldiers to be rotated monthly as supplemental forces to the wall?" Lord-Too-Fat-To-Sit-A-Horse read aloud with an incredulous tone.
"Lord Stark feels that this will not only provide sufficient training to the Northmen, but that we might be also able to implement plans that can revitalize the Wall." Her explanation gave away more than he needed to know while highlighting the seriousness of the matter. Firm and punctual. "You will send one-thousand Manderly men to the Wall this month alongside the Glovers, Tallharts, and Flints. Then other Houses shall temporarily fill in, until another contingent is to assume the mantle." The Lord of White Harbor could not have disobeyed such an order even if he wished to.
With the decree signed, Shiera moved on to her own personal plan. "I have been working with other Lords to improve upon the Northern network of transportation. Both of goods and leisurely travel." At the crook of her finger the Lannister Maester spread a map she had brought across Wyman Manderly's desk. Sansa did not recall her instructor disclosing this particular ambition which prompted her to peek forth interestedly. Crisscrossing the mammoth landmass her Stark ancestors had conquered were lines drawn with various colours of ink. "I have done what I can, my Lord. The lumberers and sawmills have vastly improved their efficiency since I took charge. Food production has also rapidly yielded greater stores than in recent memory. Only so much can be done to maximize utilization of our land when we are so disconnected."
"What you are proposing is impossible," The Maester scoffed at the Great Bastard, "No Lord, not even one so great as Lord Wyman, can build such a network of roads. It would surely bankrupt the No-."
"I assure you I am capable of simple arithmetics, Maester Theomore," Shiera Seastar's voice was frostier than Winterfell on a sunless day. "So is Lord Stark, or this proposal might never have reached Lord Manderly's eyes." Dismissively she turned her full attention back to the man who actually mattered. "The red indicates the roads I wish for you to contribute to the overall network."
"Why would I ever wish to build a road from here to Flint's Finger?" He asked shrewdly, "What could I have to gain from such a weighty investment, my Lady?"
"A considerable tax deduction will be offered by Lord Stark as incentivization. But there is also the matter of untapped trade," Those mismatched eyes, green and blue, sparkled with a ferociously bold look Sansa greatly admired. Her companion was undeniably passionate when it came to developing cunning initiatives, yet she enjoyed selling them even more so. "I have traversed every bog of the Neck, as well as every inch of Flint's Finger. Peet, bogland fish, exotic pelts and skins, and even bog iron! Imagine the sheer boom of trade that could occur if we managed to unite that jumble of land to White Harbor?"
Sansa knew it would mean disagreeing with her governess, yet she did not care. Only a fool would allow another fool to make an error, and Shiera would appreciate the chance to defend herself. "My father has always told us the importance of Moat Cailin. If a road were constructed would it not undercut the strategic advantage of the Neck in defending our homeland?"
Lord Manderly looked highly impressed as did Maester Theomore. Lady Seastar merely grinned at her pupil's capacity to think critically. "Right you are, Lady Sansa. That is why I have already gained Lord Reed's agreement to this plan. With his support the Crannogmen will man the new roads. Much of the pathway built in the heart of the Neck will be constructed primarily by Lord Manderly's neighbors. They alone will be in charge of escorting merchants and other travellers through Moat Cailin to Flint's Finger." She stood, planting both hands firmly against the table, "The economic growth will make up for the tax deductions by a tenfold. All I require is your support, Lord Manderly."
Sansa knew then that Shiera had already won. The second they stepped into White Harbor Lord Manderly had doubtlessly anticipated a proposal such as this one. "You had my support at the mention of tax deductions, my Lady," He chucked suddenly, eyes gleaming greedily. Head shaking the man stared at the rest of the map, at all of the roads which would lead to White Harbor. For the first time in history it seemed that Bear Island would be effortlessly able to trade their wares in his city.
"I also have a proposition for you, Lord Manderly," Sansa articulated politely, "As I grow older I find myself in greater need of a court. Your daughter Wylla was simply so delightful yesterday that I wished to extend an invitation for her to return with us to Winterfell. As my very first Lady-in-Waiting." Needless to say he pounced with immense appreciation on the opportunity to set his daughter upon Robb Stark.
Not much later Shiera left with two proclamations, and Sansa with the admiration of her father's most powerful liege, as well as the first vestiges of a court.
OOOO
Given that Lord Manderly was far too large to be moved anywhere with the slightest bit of ease, the Lyseni Nobles were hosted in a large set of chambers which overlooked the Shivering Sea instead of the solar. With Andara serving as a cupbearer, Sansa and Shiera were free to patiently await House Stark's new business partners. Of course, Sansa still had yet to determine the full impact such a relationship might have upon the North. She knew that the matter of loans from the formerly influential Rogare Bank would be a big topic of discussion. Shiera's lofty plans required funding from somewhere after all. A bigger question which required inspection remained unspoken though. The Rogares could have dispatched any old banker to negotiate interest rates, but instead they sent their heir. As the handsome men entered the room she supposed her questions would be answered with a dose of patience in exchange.
"Lady Seastar," Drazenko Rogare smiled charmingly at them, "Lady Stark." Unsurprisingly the brunt of his Valyrian handsomeness was directed her way prompting Shiera's advice to swiftly reenter Sansa's mind. Their far closer proximity allowed her to examine him much more closely. Despite being only being five or six years older than her at most the Rogare heir seemed well on par with Shiera. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and appeared quite powerful. Sansa could only imagine how easy of a prey she might prove for a man of such clearly high caliber and political mindedness. His three companions were no less impressive, though none caught her attention in quite the same manner.
"Master Drazenko," Shiera nodded at him, gesturing politely for Andarra to fill each cup with wine, "We have much to discuss it appears." Her mismatched gaze flickered to the other Lyseni men. "I must admit that I was quite surprised to hear you had three Magisters in your company. A pleasant surprise of course, yet surprising all the same."
"The Court of Lys had several matters which needed to be settled with you. A lowly banker is hardly fit to divulge such sensitive matters though." He smiled with what could only be called sheepishness as the Magisters took control of the conversation. Drazenko Rogare seemed only too happy for the distraction as it allowed him to glance in her direction all the more openly. No longer one to easily blush like a naive maiden for handsome knights, Sansa ignored his advances as though they were nonexistent. This proved rather easy to accomplish, however, for the conversation around her was quite fascinating.
"There is little doubt as to who you are, Lady Seastar. Eddard Stark has provided the entire world with enough evidence over the last two years of that. No matter how strange the circumstances, there is no way to dismiss your claims." The oldest and most stately of the Magisters spoke resolutely. "Unfortunately that brings a matter Lys once believed resolved back into question. Your mother's family is completely gone, and your own substantial former holdings in the city have been requisitioned by the court." He nodded, but without any ounce of regret in his features for that bit of unwelcome information. "Upon a lengthy debate in the Temple of Trade it was determined that your estate will be returned in hopes of beginning a prosperous relationship with the North."
At that declaration a second Lyseni Magister pushed a large pile of parchments over to Lady Shiera. "You are due to be restored a fleet of trading galleys, what heirlooms were not sold, all former properties in Lys and the Disputed Lands, the ancestral Lordship of House Tirhenys, what little was left in the coffers of that esteemed House, and partial compensation for the liquidation of shareholdings." Sansa was immensely surprised to say the least. She had known that her tutor was once a diplomat to Lys, yet never would have considered she was the last of a noble, Valyrian line. Determined to pry later, she listened batedly for the woman's response.
Lady Seastar did not speak at first. Instead she shuffled quickly through the papers with a furrowed brow. "I will also be given a seat in the Magister's Court for the duration of my life, and that of my heir's as well." This demand was met with an incredulous protestation from all but Drazenko Rogare. A hand was held firmly aloft in the air before them. "You know full well what has been left out of these documents. Only a guaranteed seat on the Council for two generations could make up for the loss of something so precious." Her lips were stretched tightly in a displeased manner. Those eyes burned with a venomous fury Sansa had never seen before. Not even when Shiera had caught Theon Greyjoy rifling through her undergarments had she looked so angry.
"You will have it," The older Magister sneered reluctantly, "I shall see that you are guaranteed two generations in the Temple of Trade."
"Excellent," Shiera smiled with false sweetness, "Now feel free to leave Master Rogare and myself to discuss our business, my fellow Magisters. I will be sure to meet with you all again when I arrive to finalize these terms in Lys." With the signing of a hastily revised document the trio was sent out of the room. Leaving Sansa alone with two, almost unearthly attractive, Valyrians.
"It is a pleasure to know that you will be rejoining Lysene society, Lady Seastar," Drazenko Rogare grinned in a way which made Sansa's heart stop. "I fear many of my compatriots have rather lost their touch when it comes to negotiating."
"Have no fear, Master Rogare," Shiera Seastar nodded at him in a self-assured way, "I shall teach them the ways of old. One-by-one." What followed was a ruthless hammering of details as the two negotiated entire contracts from blank sheets of parchment. Sansa put her impeccable handwriting to the test as she carefully copied the terms being bandied about. They first started by discussing the business of appropriate interest rates for the North's first loan in many decades. When the banking heir reminded Shiera that the North lacked any proper credit history she smugly reminded him of the fact that the Starks never ran deficits. Eventually their dance of words ended with a massive loan being issued to Winterfell in promise of a moderate interest rate. No doubt the largest transaction the Rogare Bank had secured in a very long time.
Sansa wondered what Shiera planned to do with that sum of gold. She longed to know precisely what plans the woman had stirring secretly inside of her lovely head. Thankfully it seemed that some of them would be revealed to herself and Drazenko Rogare in that sitting. The promissory note was replaced with another blank parchment intended to serve as a trade agreement. "I would like for your bank to provide any human resources it can spare in exchange for a temporary percentage of whatever is produced from the North's intermediate goods. Glassblowers, shipwrights, weavers, craftsmen, and more."
He stared at the platinum-haired Targaryen thoughtfully. "I want that percentage to remain in effect for two decades. I also want for the North to build the Rogare Bank a fleet of ships which can rival the Iron Bank's at a greatly discounted price." His fingers drummed momentarily against the tabletop, "Lady Stark shall also work with myself to forge business connections between the Rogare Bank and her relatives in Riverrun and the Eyrie."
Shiera paused for a moment after her pupil was directly dragged into the course of negotiations. She was waiting, Sansa realized abruptly, for her to address the Rogare heir. Back straightening further even though her spine was already ramrod straight the girl forced herself to make House Stark proud. To shove any timidity aside and prove herself worthy of breathing the same air as such clever, ambitious people. "Such business connections are worth far more than you have offered to Winterfell," She was certain to use a matter-of-fact tone rather than a snide one. "We both know that such influence would give the Rogare's enough trajectory to rival the Iron Bank once again." Tully-blue peered endlessly into brilliant lilac.
"I can offer your Tully and Arryn relatives an opportunity to grow just as prosperous as House Stark shall from our newly forged relationship. Unless you do not share the same sort of ambitions as Lady Seastar does?" He was trying to provoke her into acting foolish, but the wolf's blood was not strong enough in Sansa Stark for such a reaction. That handsome face was riveting to look upon during the heated exchange of terms, the maiden realized embarrassedly. Her heart was coursing eagerly with a rush of excited blood.
"I will keep my own ambitions close to my chest. Much like you yourself do Master Drazenko," She did not smile at her effective barb. The battle was not won yet. "Let us imagine that I would ever prove willing to host a meeting at Riverrun between my Lord grandfather, uncle the Hand, and yourself. Even if that introductory meeting were to hypothetically prove less than a success it would still be worthy of several alterations to this trade agreement. For instance, you would receive only a slight discount on that fleet you so greatly desire. Furthermore, instead of a percentage of our generated revenue for two decades it would round closer to five years." Her red curls shifted as she leant forwards slightly. "If I were to succeed in forging a relationship between the Rogare Bank and my relatives it would be further reduced to two years. Nothing more and nothing less."
"Do those terms sound agreeable to you, Master Rogare? Or would you rather remain beneath the shadow of Bravos?" Shiera asked when he simply observed Sansa speculatively for a silent while.
"If the Lady Stark agrees to accompany me on my tour of White Harbor this afternoon I will be more than happy to agree to her terms." He was bold, so daringly forthcoming that a heavy blush spread across the lovely Stark's pale cheeks. Despite her best attempts at feigning ignorance to his advances it seemed that Drazenko Rogare had indeed won.
"I am amenable to such a proposition, so long as Andarra chaperones us, Master Drazenko," She responded before Shiera could. Sealing the North's prosperous future, and hoping desperately that her forefathers were all smiling proudly from their tombs in the Crypts of Winterfell.
OOOO
Starks always kept their promises, at least Sansa's father had always abided by that code. Despite finding herself nervous of Drazenko Rogare's forward advances she found herself waiting for him in the courtyard anyways. "Lady Stark," He greeted her with a heartstopping kiss planted against her wrist, "I must admit that between the beauty of the Shivering Sea, and your own, I may very well suffer a stroke." That accent caused shivers to roll across her spine, again, as a pleased look filtered into the Rogare heir's lilac eyes. Behind them Andarra gave no indication that she was left uncomfortable by the man's obvious display of flirting.
"Certainly I am no easier to look upon than the beauties of Lys, Master Rogare," Her tone was firm, refusing to betray any emotions he might play to his advantage. Behind them Andarra drew many gazes for her exotic attractiveness. Above their heads as well Shiera no doubt faced similar attentions from male observers.
"The women of Lys are undeniably beautiful, Lady Stark," They walked as she reluctantly allowed him to place her dainty hand around his elbow and muscular bicep. "Though the Valyrian features lose their charm easily enough. Much of that allure is only totally effective on outsiders. Accordingly, it requires a special kind of Lyseni maiden to hold my gaze." Those lovely eyes peered firmly into Sansa's as they were escorted by guards into the White Harbor. "I have always found the descendants of the First Men and Andals to be much more… Memorable."
The girl was already growing tired of their verbal sparring match. "Certainly my societal status has much to do with your opinion as well, Master Rogare?" She dismissed his inappropriate speech with an honest tone. "Many men would surely not blink twice in my direction if I were a mere peasant girl."
His rude scoff left her reeling surprisedly. "I will give you a fair enough warning Lady Stark," He smiled almost tauntingly, "Do not underestimate the effect of your countenance, or wits. The last time a Stark maiden made such a reprehensible mistake, if I am not mistaken, a millenia old dynasty collapsed." A speculative gleam crossed his face as they paused in one of the markets to look out at the Shivering Sea. The guard spread out a slight bit farther to give them privacy while Andarra all too easily followed suit. "In Lys we worship many of the Valyrian Gods. I favour Meraxes, the epitome of war, as well as his lover, Syrax. She reminds us in the old texts to latch onto the gifts she sends our way."
Drazenko Rogare carefully pulled something from his wrist in that moment. "Lust is for simple men, no true followers of Syrax's words. Radiance is a gift given to those that hold true to her enlightenment. Living every day as though it might be their last." At this he gripped Sansa's wrist gently in his masculine hands. Soon enough the almost obscene bracelet was clasped tightly in place. "Meraxes," He whispered in her ear, pointing to the muscular, partially nude form of a warrior, "Will protect you ferociously until we next meet." Her the man trailed his finger to the other metallic figure, supple and lithe, "Syrax will bless you equally as fervently. Like she would any of her gifts to mankind."
"I follow the Old Gods of my forefathers, and the Seven of my mother before me," Sansa could not will herself to move away. Bound firmly in place by something that was beyond her comprehension. She hoped that Andarra or one of the guards would pull them apart, yet they all belonged to him. No help would come to save Sansa from the jaws of her most ardent suitor.
"As any devoted daughter should," Those gorgeous eyes swirled with passion, "Though it does not stop the Valyrian deities from recognizing what captivation they have trapped in the human form." So close they stood next to one another, so incredibly close that he almost could have-. With that he stepped back to a courteous distance. Supple, red lips curving mischievously as though he knew exactly what she had been thinking. "When we next meet, Sansa Stark," Drazenko Rogare bowed to her, "I wish to hear your plans for the Vale and Riverlands. I am certain that there are many of them hiding within that intelligent head." He left her leaning against the rail with a clearly amused Andarra and half of the remaining guard.
Gasping for breath while the two Valyrian Gods made passionate love upon her willowy wrist.
OOOO
Shiera entered the chamber with a loud sigh, yet very accomplished at that. The funding had been secured for her many plans, and letters of invitation were sailing closer to Skagos with each breath she took. Mismatched eyes fell upon her ornate mirror with a look that practically dripped venom. "Guese haogan lineye rougal," She hissed in Valyrian, the typically flowery language sounding like knives on her bitter lips. The darkening sky outside only enhanced the unnatural vision which appeared within that reflective surface. A disgusting, half-decomposed skeleton glared upwards with one crimson eye. "Eht skratS era enim. Ym ygidorp sworg regnorts sa I ecnalg nopu rouy ecnanguper." Clawed hands whipped the brief image away before any retaliatory consequences could be inflicted. Now with a genuinely compassionate smile she turned to greet her returning pupil.
Blood pumping thickly with the sweetest hints of vengeance.
OOOO
Whatevs, I guess I will just post this one too. A bit more wish fulfillment before final exams. Sigh.
Next Chapter: The Stoneborn.