Andrew
The morning was as cold as every mornings here in Braavos. When Andrew opened his windows he could see that it was foggier that the last morning. The foggier the air was, the colder the air will be.
Andrew never got a good sleep yesterday, but that was no big deal since he was used to troubled sleeps for the past eleven years. And all the cause for his troubled sleeps were the same and yesterday was no exception. He had the same dream again, when he was a little boy of five, playing happily in his mother's arms, until everything turned to dark, black and mess and gore. He saw his mother glowing in the starlight, with the same sweet smile of hers while tears rolled past her cheeks. He saw his father, with that kind smile he'd give at him always, his cold grey eyes growing soft as the fogs outside covering Braavos when he saw him or his mother. He saw his uncle, throwing him up in the air before catching him in his arms. He'd loved that part, until everything changed to. His mother's eyes leaking with tears of blood, his father burning in a raging fire that his lips only opened to scream, not to smile at him and his uncle Arthur throwing him up in the air but missing to catch him.
Andrew sighed leaving to keep the thoughts of the dream buried deep into the deepest and darkest place of his heart. He had tried to forget about the dream for about numerous times thinking that if he'd managed to forget it he would not see it, but only to fail in that. No matter how hard he had tried to forget the dream, he couldn't forget it. No matter how hard he tried to get rid off it, he couldn't get rid of it. It's like the dream had stuck with him, like a part of him. The dream was as if it was a part of his body, a part of his own soul, so no matter how hard he tried he could never ever get rid of it and Andrew had learnt to live with it.
He moved over to the water basin to wash up the sleepiness from his face after a bad sleep. Even the reflection of his face in the water brought up the old memories of his family. His face had changed a lot in the last eleven years. He had a beard now and his features had grown strong unlike the child he was in the dreams. Though he still had a resemblance of his father in his face. His mother used to say that he looked like his father and the household of Winterfell seemed to agree it too. They used to say that, he was more like his father and only had a little of his mother in him, which was undoubtedly his dark hair. Andrew could see that now, his hair had grown shades darker now.
He'd always wondered what it would be like if he returned to Winterfell now. But the answer to that was pretty simple and he knew that. They would never believe him to be Andrew Stark, son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Ashara Stark. Andrew Stark would have been dead, buried in the minds of the people of Westeros, just like his parents had been.
When he had finished bathing, he clad himself in his fresh, usual outfit of the dark pants and white tunic shirt with a brown jacket over it. When he pulled his boots up he moved to the water basin again to set his hair in the way he preferred. He never had a long hair like his father nor the short one like his uncle Arthur. He had medium length hair, which he kept short in the sides and the back and slicked back the wet hair up in the top.
When Andrew finished dressing his hair, he took Frost before he left his room. Walking with a sword on the back was not a common sight here in Braavos. But even he himself was odd in Braavos, from the clothes he wore to his looks everything screamed of Westeros and that's why Syrio had made him as Andrew Snow, a westerosi bastard, as if to not gather a lot of attention to himself.
Andrew walked down the steps to the inn, his boots thudding against the wooden steps. There were only a few number of people in the Foghouse that day. But given the time, it was too early for too much of crowd, the people would only rouse and get to their daily activities only after the sun had wiped away the fog for everyone to see clearly.
The girls were chatting and giggling together since there was no need for them to be active for a few number of people. Illola was counting the money and was arranging them in the respective orders. The Braavosi iron squares, the Lyseni ovals, in which a naked girl is stamped on one side, the Norvosi triangluar coins and various others including the gold dragons and silver stags of Westeros were all arranged seperately. Andrew reached Illola's desk and greeted her. "Good morning, Illola."
"Good morning, Andrew," Illola greeted back. "You got up sooner today?" She asked him.
Andrew rolled his eyes at that.
Illola smiled at him and continued. "Well anyway that's a good thing," she said. "There is a man here looking for you." Illola pointed at the corner of the inn where a man was seated looking away from them.
Andrew looked at the man and then back at Illola, confused. "Did he tell anything?" He asked her.
"Mm, not so much. Just that he was here to see you," Illola told as she took the arranged coins and put them in their respective drawers of her table. She closed the drawer and looked up at him. "Must be something with 'your business'."
Andrew looked at the man. He could only see his back. He turned to Illola. "I will see what he wants from me," he told her and walked to his usual place by the window.
"Do you want to break your fast now and would you rather have it after he leaves?" Illola asked him.
"Sent it to my table now," Andrew told her. "I don't know how long this is going to take," he said walking over to his table.
The Foghouse was lit up by the candles in the early morning. Candles were needed here in Braavos since the fogs would make it tougher to see in early morning. The sun would clear up the fogs only when it is up above in the sky.
Illola brought him his breakfast with a tankard full of strong beer. She kept his food on his table, before him and moved to the table in which the man was seated.
Andrew took a drink of his strong beer and moved on to take a bite from his bread. The bread was fresh from the oven and Illola had given him a big one. He could hear the crust of the bread crunch as he ripped off a chunk from it. That was one of the uniqueness of the Foghouse. No other inn here in Braavos could make a fine bread than Illola's. That's why the Foghouse had a good number of customers everyday even though it was situated in a noisy place like the Ragman Harbor.
When Andrew took a bite of the fresh bread, the man came near him. Andrew looked up at him, chewing his bread and gestured for him to sit. The man took the seat opposite to him. He was an old man with grey hair and his beard was completely white. His face had wrinkles and the lines in his face appeared more because of worry and sorrow rather than the age.
Andrew took a gulp of his strong beer to wash down the bread and looked up at the man. "Who are you? What do you want?"
The man seemed to be taken aback by his bluntness. He looked at Frost in its sheath near him and then eyed back at him. "I need your help."
Andrew raised his eyebrow at him. "Help? What help?"
"My name is Gyllaro Dynar," the old man said. "I was a wealthy merchant once. I owned ships, shops, a mansion and a family." Andrew could see the man's hands shaking and he was visibly upset when he mentioned his family. "But he took everything from me. My friend and partner. He betrayed me and deceived me, taking all my wealth and worse..." the old man's breath hitched, " he made me to sell my own family into slavery. My wife, my daughter and my son..." The old man tried hard to hold back his tears. He recollected himself after a moment and continued. "I don't want his wealth or anything, all I want is justice for my family before I die."
Andrew understood what he wanted from him. The old man wanted him to assassinate his old friend. Though the man's story seemed believable he wanted to make sure that he didn't killed an innocent person just because of his false judgement. "Listen I don't do things like that."
"I know," the old man said at once. "I've heard about you. His house is located near the Iron Bank, a big one with two red basilisk statues in the front. You can go see it for yourself. His name is Syro Irrirah."
Andrew watched the old man closely. He could see the truth in his words. There was no reason for him to lie. From the old, torn rags he had worn to the sad lines on his face everything had honesty in them. This was not about the money for him, he thought. This was about betrayal and this was about family. The old man's problem was just like his own, betrayed and lost the family. But still he had to see it with his own eyes. He just can't turn away from his principle just because of a pitiful story.
Andrew took another bite of his bread with a piece of boiled egg with it. "I'll go look at it, but I can't make any promises."
That brought a smile in the face of the old man. "Thank you," he said, "That is all I wanted to hear." He touched his clothes searching for money but by the look of it Andrew knew that he didn't had the money.
"I only get the money once I finish the job," he informed the old man. If whatever the old man had told him were true he would never get any money from him. He would do the job for free. The old man nodded at him.
With that the old man got up and made to leave. Andrew stopped him and gave him the remaining bread and the two boiled eggs. "Go on, have them and fill up your stomach."
The old man's face brightened and he got the bread and the eggs with a smile. His mother had once told him that 'There is no better feeling than making a hungry man smile.' And Andrew found how true his mother had been when he saw the old man's smile as he gave him the bread and the eggs.
He smiled back at the old man and the old man left the Foghouse happy and sated. Andrew took his tankard and drank the remaining beer from his tankard. Illola came to take the plates and tankard away.
"So what was that all about?" She asked him as she collected the used plate and tankard.
"Nothing but work," he replied. "Do anyone have to repay or is there anything I could do for you today?" He asked.
"No," Illola shook her head. "We are all good."
Andrew nodded. He got up and slung Frost to his back. "I'll be out for a while and will be back by evening," he told her.
Illola nodded. Andrew made his way out of the inn. He was near the door when she called him. "Andrew, be careful," she said to him.
Andrew nodded once and gave her a small smile. "I will," he said and stepped out of the inn.
The fogs had grown smoother by the rise of the sun and the people had started to take up their duties of the day. He took the canal way to the Iron Bank. The walk was pretty easy without the crowd and it took less time to reach the Iron Bank. Once he reached the Iron Bank he searched for the house of Syro Irrirah. Every house surrounding the Iron Bank were big enough, given that the houses belonged to the people who worked in the Iron Bank he was not surprised that they were big. He was searching for the house with the two red basilisk statues the old man mentioned as Syro Irrirah's house when he saw him, coming out from a building which was bigger than every other buildings surrounding it, with a beautiful woman of dark skin adorned in jewels of all shapes and kinds and colors who was none other than the Black Pearl herself. Silver blond hair fell to his shoulders and his eyes still had the same malice which he had seen eleven years before.
"There is she, in the woods," he still remembered his words just like he remembered his face. "The first one to catch her will get a chance to taste her. Not even the noblest of the men in Westeros would get a chance to fuck the most beautiful woman in the world."
Just as he had seen him eleven years before, Viserys Targaryen walked within a few feet away from him with his guards and entered the Iron Bank. He never knew whether it was true or it was just a dream. But if it was true, the time he had been waiting for, had come at last. Andrew never had any belief in Gods but for once he thanked the Gods of his parents for he had got the chance for which he had been waiting for the past eleven years, for giving him his chance to avenge his family.
Author's Notes: Oh, things are going to move so fast hereafter. Thank you for reading. Leave a comment if you liked it and even if you don't.
Reply for Guests from last chapter:
Guest: Yeah I know that naming Dany's dragon as Drogon won't make any sense. I tried to make a name from Dany's name like naming the other two dragons from her brothers' name but I couldn't find a decent one, so I stuck to it since Drogon too starts with D and doesn't sounds so distant from Daenerys. For the others, I don't think it is so odd. If Dany's dragon was named after her it is well ok to name the others after the brothers' since all three came from the same fire.