A/N: Thanks so much for the support. I was glad to hear you guys enjoyed Doreah and Lonnie's POV.
Farwynd & Fire
By Spectre4hire
9: The Host
There was no carriage waiting for her when she stepped outside.
Soon, she said to that twisting, turning feeling in her stomach.
"Lord Dagon will marry you, princess," Doreah's voice wrung clear in her mind. A slave who spoke with the confidence of a princess. Her voice, but surely the magister's words, Daenerys thought, she hoped, recalling the conversation with Doreah.
"Your brother will see the wisdom of it."
"Will he?" Daenerys wondered what this servant knew that she didn't. What has she heard? And from whom? Her brother? The magister? Her fingers had sought the gift he had given her the day before. The last time he saw her. He hadn't even seen me open it. Her desk was a testament to his generosity. The book he gave her the first day, the ivory tusk, the dagger. Here is a life I could have.
"Yes," Doreah's assurances were not just in her tone, but in her expression.
This was a message, Daenerys realized, looking up from the intricately carved tusk, and she was smiling. Not just because of what Doreah had said, but because of what it meant. At thinking of serving her brother in sealing this marriage, her reward would be just as great as his. He will be king, and I will be, a flurry of words and feelings bubbled up, making her laugh, because she was unable to pick just one. They all feel possible with this new life.
She hummed while she waited for the carriage feeling rejuvenated. The air was sweet and filled with birdsong. The branches all around and above her teemed with life, twitching as birds danced along the limbs, singing to one another. Daenerys smiled, basking in their sweet sounds.
When she closed her eyes, she wasn't wishing for the house with the red door in Braavos. Of the life and home, she wanted to return to. In her mind's eye, she saw ships sailing on a sea as smooth as glass, of a sun that rose and shone above them like a great ruby. Of the wind dancing in her hair, as she stood out on the deck, smiling while the men sang and worked. The sails billowing, sending them onwards, onto that great horizon. Far from here, far from him. Let Viserys be king, let him have the Seven Kingdoms, because here, she was finally free.
An eerie silence bled into her thoughts, causing her to blink back into the present. The birds had stopped singing. A strange stillness filled the air in the quiet, even the trees seemed to stop in their swaying as if holding their breath.
Viserys, the name sent a sliver of cold dread to roil inside her. She looked over her shoulder, but he wasn't there. Before the fear could spread, she heard a screech that sent her eyes scanning the skies. A sea eagle, Daenerys saw the great bird circling overhead. A rumble on the road pulled her attention to see the awaited carriage make its approach. It was not as opaque as many noble carriages she saw in her travels, but it was still a beautiful construction of teak and gild. Rising above its roof, three to each side were decorative silver statues which sparkled in the sunlight. Each one was carved to resemble a different beast. She could only clearly see those that lined the side facing her. They were of a sea eagle in flight, a swimming shark, and a large bird perched on what looked to be a ship's mast.
"Princess," The driver of the carriage turned to greet her when it came to a stop.
She took a step back at his appearance. His hair was the same silvery gold of her brother. In one terrifying heartbeat, she thought it was Viserys, sneering down at her. Sneaking off like some whore to be fucked. His cold voice was a hateful hiss inside her. Giving this savage your virtue, He gripped the reins tightly in his fingers. That's not yours to give!
Panic threatened to seize her with cold and heavy hands. Her fingers dug into the rich fabric of her dress. Fingertips pressing hard into the opals. The pinching pain was enough of a pry to loosen the hold her conjured brother had over her.
"Princess?" The driver had come down to open the door for her.
It's not real, she told herself, he's not here. Out of her haze, she was able to discern the driver before her. To see the scar that marred his face, it started below his eye and went all the way down to his chin. His posture stiffened and he wordlessly moved to open the door for her.
He thinks his scar repulsed me, she realized with a cold sinking feeling. "Thank you," she smiled at him, wanting to undo her first reaction. It didn't seem to work.
"Princess, welcome," a voice from inside the carriage caused her to shift her attention to see a small black-haired woman waiting for her. "Thank you, Aekar," she said to the driver, who answered her and then closed the door, before Daenerys could try another tack in undoing her mistake.
"It's an honor to meet you, princess," She had large dark eyes that dominated her round face. She had a smudge on the side of her nose. "I'm Gwyn Farwynd."
Farwynd? Daenerys' thoughts on the name became jumbled when the carriage lurched to life. It made her appreciate her cushioned seat while their carriage rumbled down the road. She had been expecting an empty compartment, but with her mistake with the driver still fresh in her mind, she rallied. "Are you Dagon's sister?"
"No, we are distant kin," she explained, "I'm a Farwynd of Sealskin Point."
Daenerys remembered Dagon mentioning there were other Farwynd houses throughout the Iron Islands. He said that several traveled with him and served in his fleet. She had assumed he had meant men. But what of her? What was it she did for him? She noticed Gwyn's fingers were ink stained and were holding onto some parchment.
"Ledgers, princess," Gwyn sensed her gaze. "I manage his numerous accounts. Numbers were never Dagon's strength," a small smile followed as if reliving some intimate joke between the two Farwynds. "But they are mine and he saw that." She shifted the pile in her lap. "I'm also the lady of his household," she said, before she blushed. "That is until you marry him, princess."
Daenerys calmed her worry with a smile. "Is that what you have there?" She hoped her voice didn't betray her nerves. She knew little of numbers. They had no household and little coin. Numbers were a luxury she could not worry over when they had more pressing issues: where were we going to stay? What were we to eat?
"No princess, these are accounts for Dagon's next voyage."
"Voyage?" Was that why he hadn't come to see her? It was not because he was cross with her. Daenerys remembered Doreah's confidence in saying what had to be the Magister's words. He will marry you, princess. You will see.
"Yes," Gwyn's ink smudged finger wiped at her cheek, leaving behind a black freckle. "Asshai, this will be his most ambitious voyage yet. There's a lot to account for for this voyage," Gwyn went on, "Provisions and materials, ships and men," she listed them off, but despite how daunting it all sounded, she didn't appear bothered by it. Quite the opposite, she appeared thrilled by the challenge. "This will be the greatest undertaking he has ever done. His longest journey, the most ships-" Her eyes suddenly widened, a contrite look flickered across her face. "I was supposed to send his regrets, princess for-" She gritted her teeth, as the carriage went over a bump, causing the compartment to jolt sharply and for them to brace themselves, "him not being here himself. This expedition has kept all of us busy."
"I understand," Inside she was brimming with happiness. She had heard of the mysterious city, aware of its place on the map and all of the sea that was between them and it. It was happening. She once more saw herself on that ship. Now with a destination in mind, but in her heart, there was something new, something fragile. It grew with each passing heartbeat- Hope.
"Daenerys," She had told him that he should use her name upon their reunion. She'd not forget the sheen in his dark blue eyes at her request nor the coil of warmth in her belly.
He had been the first to greet her, but there had been others waiting for her. That was where he was taking him with a quiet Gwyn walking behind them. She held his arm as they walked. She felt the flow of muscles beneath his sleeves.
"Lonnel Tawney," Dagon gestured to a tall, lanky young man who looked to be her age or younger. "He's my squire, I could ask for none better." His chest swelled at the praise. Which wasn't hard to see given how reedy his frame was.
"Princess," He dipped his round face when he addressed her.
It wasn't until he raised his head that she recognized him. He was the messenger who had gone to the Illyrio's manse. Who brought the message that would change everything.
"And this is my brother, Ygon."
She saw the familiar resemblance to his brother. His hair was just as black, but his was shorter and messier. He had a scraggly dark beard that covered ruddy cheeks. She knew he was drunk before she smelt the ale on his breath.
"Princess," he nearly hiccupped, struggling to stay on his feet.
"Lord Ygon," She pretended not to notice the stench of ale that clung to him. "Your brother has spoken of you." It was not a lie. He had spoken of his brothers. He had not spoken of Ygon being a drunk.
Ygon snorted, as if she had made some amused jape.
Gwyn shot him a look that nearly sobered him. "You must forgive, Ygon," she said as she stood beside him. She exchanged a look with Dagon. "He is unwell."
Someone else stepped forward before any more attention could be given to Ygon Farwynd. "Princess," He had curly dark hair and pale eyes. "It's an honor to meet you."
"Daenerys, this is my spymaster, Ramsay Snow."
Snow, she knew that name. Home of one of the Usurper's dogs, the angry thought came to her unbidden. Had his father helped to overthrow his rightful king, her father? "You are from the Seven Kingdoms, my lord?" She smiled behind her polite question, while inwardly she fumed on his family's disloyalty to hers. The part they played in rebelling against my father, and for fighting against my brother.
"I'm from the north, but that is not my home."
"Ramsay, bring him to me," Dagon's order roused her from her thoughts. They seemed to be finishing a conversation that had been interrupted at her arrival.
"At once, captain," Ramsay bowed, "I'll see to it myself."
"Dagon, perhaps that should wait?" Gwyn suggested, "You do have the princess to consider."
"No," he declined to reconsider. "Daenerys, you may join me if you wish, or Gwyn will show you around the manse while I attend this matter."
"I'll join you," she hoped she didn't sound too eager. She did not fully understand what it was she agreed to, but she knew she made the right choice with how he smiled at her. Mayhaps, it has to do with the voyage, she reasoned, And Gwyn thinks it'll bore me. That would be her mistake, Daenerys was interested and excited about sails and ships.
A warring expression passed over Gwyn, but she didn't voice her disapproval. "Very well," She then helped lead Ygon away.
Daenerys looked to see Dagon didn't seem surprised by his brother's drunkenness. He looked used to it. She looked around to see no scandalized faces from anyone. Not even the rows of servants and guards, who remained quiet and still where they had been standing and waiting. "I would not have felt slighted if Ygon had needed to rest."
"You are too kind." He replied in a voice that was neither kind nor unkind. "He was not always this way ."
"Will he get better?" she asked, "do you know what troubles him?"
"Yes," Dagon's eyes turned away from his brother's retreating form. "I'd tell you, but you wouldn't believe me. You'd think me mad."
It was not meant as a slight, she saw the apologetic look in his blue eyes when he looked her way. I would believe you, she wanted to say, to lessen the sting she felt at him not thinking he could tell her. The moment was lost when Aekar came to stand beside them.
"Aekar, make sure my brother finds his ship after he's rested."
"Of course, m'lord," Aekar bowed, and left as quickly as he arrived.
Daenerys thought about calling him back, wondering if she could. If she should, but then she wondered how he'd react. Would he stop? What would she even say? What of Dagon's reaction? Distracted by the questions which tumbled atop each other, she lost her chance, watching him go.
"Aekar is a good thrall."
Did he notice me staring after him? She kept her expression neutral and turned away from Aekar slowly. "How did you meet him?"
"He was on a slave ship bound to Lys or Volantis; I can't recall. He was to be a bed slave," he answered, "That scar on his cheek. He did that. He found a loose nail, and," Dagon didn't need to say more, she understood enough. "The guards stopped him before he could further hurt or kill himself."
He did that, Daenerys' stomach twisted at imagining such a maiming, at the desperation to inflict such pain on yourself.
"When we took the ship, we killed the slavers, and I took the slaves." Dagon said, "They're free because of me, through the mercy of the Drowned God."
Her heart stumbled over his words. She stayed quiet, remembering how she had ruined their last conversation because of how she reacted. I have no qualms in being served by the Magister's 'servants'. She reminded herself. This will be no different. Her stomach twisted, I'll be good to them, she thought how she had been kind to Doreah. I'll make sure they know they're safe. They'll be my servants, not my slaves, not my thralls. Her eyes took in all the rows of men and women who had just been dismissed. "You have so many."
"I do," She felt his arm tense beneath her hold. "They're good men and women. And they serve me well." He then dismissed them, but instead of going in the direction of his manse like the rest of them, Dagon led her away from the manse and to a stone path.
The stone they had just stepped on was shaped like a shark. She looked ahead to see the stones that dotted their path through the green were all carved to look like different creatures. They had just walked over a stone step in the shape of a dolphin when she spoke. "I'm glad to hear it." She felt his inquisitive stare and looked up to meet it. "Forgive me, I'm just worried," She confessed, "That I'll be a poor lady to them." Her chest tightened at the responsibility. She had not been told of it, not taught to be a lady of a household.
The last time we had servants, she thought back to Ser Willem Darry. He was the knight who had taken care of them, who had always been kind to her. A twinge of wistfulness strummed through her, of the knight, of their home, but then the memory soured when she thought what happened next. They stole everything we had, She and Viserys were only children, but that hadn't stopped them. Our money and whatever else they could take from us.
"The household will likely remain Gwyn's responsibility."
"Oh?" She felt a thread of worry in her chest. Has he reconsidered me? Does he think I'll fail him?
"Yes," Dagon said, "After all, how can you be the lady of the household when you're traveling with me?"
Giddy relief flooded through her, but he took her silence differently.
"That's if you wish to travel with me after we're married. I had-"
"I do!" she assured him, unintentionally squeezing his arm in her excitement to be heard. "I do wish to travel with you."
He chuckled. They then fell into an easy conversation. She felt comfortable with him by her side, listening to him speak, content in a way she never felt with her brother. With Viserys, one small slip, she suppressed the shudder at the memories of waking the dragon. All her life, she thought she'd be tied to her brother. Not just by blood, but in marriage. Thinking he'd be her husband as well as her brother, but now for the first time, she saw a life, a future, which he wasn't in.
"What's your ship called?" She asked, "Your flagship?" She wanted to know the name of the vessel that would be part of her new life, that would be her new home, that would lead her away from her brother, to be her freedom.
"Our ship," Dagon corrected her. "Once we're married, it'll be our ship."
Our ship. He was already so different from Viserys. "Our ship," She felt her smile widen when she repeated the words. "What's the name of our ship?"
"Inevitable."
A/N: I must have rewrote this chapter a dozen times. Which was really annoying because the whole point of this story was to be something chill and carefree. I also envisioned much of this story to be told in Dany's POV. But I then struggled to not just find her voice, but write it in any satisfying way. Not to mention, there were times when I just felt like I had completely forgotten how to write. Like that part of my brain just up and left. When it rains, it pours for me.
Daenerys is in that crush/puppy love daydreaming phase so hopefully, I didn't botch that up too badly. Also it's been awhile since I read the books so I apologize if I slandered Dany's math game in this chapter by saying she struggles with numbers.
There's also something lost in translation between her and Dagon when it comes to thralls. Just a side effect of the perspective choice. Even though Dagon isn't a knight, I couldn't think of a better word/title to give to Lonnie so I just used squire.
Gwyn Farwynd is an OC, a minor character that I've tried to introduce/mention in past chapters, but her content just kept getting cut or pushed back. Dagon is an OC, but I kept all the other Farwynds from the books. Though they've only been mentioned and briefly described, so I'll be writing them in a way that'll fit this story.
The person that Dagon asked Ramsay to get is the priest that was mentioned in the last chapter. And in the next chapter we shall see (or Dany) since it'll likely be in her POV what awaits the drowned priest who thought it smarter to back Balon over Dagon.
I just want to finish these author notes by saying how blown away I am with the support this story's gotten. I honestly wasn't expecting such a following for a story about a Farwynd OC and it's humbling to get such tremendous feedback from you guys and very motivating too. Your kind and encouraging reviews really mean alot to me. So thanks so much! They're greatly appreciated.
Until next time,
-Spectre4hire