Dramen Lannister

Two years had passed since the birth of Dramen's youngest daughter, Rosamund. She had the classic Lannister hair and eyes, though her nose was all Ceria's. Dramen had no doubt that both of his daughters would grow up and flower into beauties that singers would kill each other to write about. Yet, that still left the Lord of Lannisport in a predicament. Despite his and Ceria's best efforts, Dramen still did not have a son. He was confident that Weiss would learn to be a fine Lady of Lannisport, yet that did little to stop the whispers that circulated amongst the rest of the family, and made his duty as her Father much harder. Any children she had would need to bear the Lannister name, something most Houses would refuse. The Redwyne boy had been a decent match, even if it was done against Dramen's will, and in hindsight, would've solved a few of his problems.

The Redwynes were one of the few houses that could rival the Tyrells, and had connections to countless others. Only a match between a Hightower, Tyrell, Rowan or Tarly could rival such an agreement when it came to the Houses from the Reach. Finding a House that was worth allying to, and was willing to a matrilineal marriage would likely lead to plenty of headaches. Even for the rich prize of Lannisport, Houses had their pride after all. And he couldn't simply look to a lower house, that would really go down poorly with all involved.

In the end, all of Dramen's efforts would be worth it, done for the future of his daughters and that of Lannisport. Dramen would do his best to ensure that Weiss' transition into power would be as unhindered as possible after his death. The walls of the Gold Keeo were barren, aside from the handful of Redcloaks that were out on patrol. With the sun starting to kiss the distant horizon, Dramen walked with his arm intertwined with his oldest daughter. Weiss had grown taller, and was starting to gain a bit of muscle which she hid with her dress.

Dramen paused after a few more steps, standing in between the two towers of the gatehouse and looked out towards the city. After much sweat, blood and coin, the docks had been rebuilt, bigger and better. His Steward had used the opportunity to finish off a few of the more lingering problems that he'd been writing letters about, as well as enacting some planned reforms. For starters, jetties and overhanging houses were banned as well as mandating all new houses must be made out of stone, not wood. That would be his legacy, though it would forever be tarnished by the sack.

"Weiss, what do you see?" Dramen said softly. Even from the hill the Gold Keep sat on, it was impossible to see all of Lannisport. Yet what he could see was impressive. Sure, he could see gaps where there were rebuilding efforts going on, but he could see the Grand Sept, the Docks, the shipyards, the manses, and even the Lighthouse, off in the distance out at sea.

"Lannisport." Weiss answered easily. She was mature for her age, extremely so. At times it was even frightening, yet Ceria's prayers always reassured Dramen that their daughter was truly blessed by the Seven. How else could a child kill four full grown men and remain undefeated in the training yard? It could be worse, he mused.

"What else?" Dramen pressed. He didn't wish for such a heavy duty to be placed upon her head, yet it was their duty. She would have to learn how to deal with the lords of the Westerlands, and Lord Tywin. Thankfully, the Old Lion had remained rather silent after the birth of Princess Myrcella the year before. He was aware their liege lord had eyes and ears everywhere, especially in the training yards. Yet, what was he to do? Lord Tywin was his liege lord.

A few claimed that Weiss was the Kingslayer reborn as a girl, or that she was the reincarnation of Prince Rhaegar with her flowing white hair. All preposterous ideas, Weiss had nearly seen two name days by the time of Prince Rhaegar's death during the Battle of the Trident, and the Kingslayer was still amongst the living. Even if he had to admit, with her hair and her singing voice, the Rhaegar comparisons were a bit more apt then he'd like.

"Buildings, people, horses, the Cub Gate." Weiss started speaking. Her blue eyes took in everything, even the inner walls of Lannisport. She continued listing what she saw until her lips turned dry. Dramen resisted the urge to snicker as she had to finally stop.

"Good." Dramen turned his eyes away from the city and gave his daughter a kind smile. "Lannisport is nothing without its people and buildings. We are not like our cousins who rely on their mines for their wealth." Left unsaid was a suspicion in his mind that sooner or later, those mines would run out. And when that happened, Lannisport needed to be able to stand on its own feet.

"Trade and taxes are our lifeblood." Weiss nodded. She was doing well in her lessons according to Maester Harmune and Septa Loria, though Weiss remained aloof in their sessions. Admittedly, for someone who was aloof, she was still doing well, so maybe it was a sign they needed to step up their efforts?

"It's good that you understand that." Dramen allowed her another minute to observe the city before resuming their walk around the walls. "As the future Lady of Lannisport, it will be your duty to look after our land and family after I'm gone."

They walked through one of the gatehouse towers, not giving the Redcloaks another glance, even as they straightened to attention. Within a few minutes, they were out in the open once again, the wind playing with Dramen's beard and Weiss' long and loose hair. It trailed behind her like a wedding cloak, reminding him he needed to start looking for another suitor. Maybe this one should be from the Stormlands?

"I won't fail you, Father." Weiss said suddenly. She kept her gaze forward, matching Dramen's stride. He was blessed to have such a mature and wise daughter. Unlike all his vassals and fellows, who complained about their daughters being immature, he had a very intelligent young lady in the making. She would make some lucky man very happy indeed.

"I know you won't, dear daughter." Dramen couldn't help but smile. If Weiss had been born a man, she would've been the perfect heir. He would keep such feelings to himself, she didn't need to know about his past longing for a son. "I will take over a few of your lessons, starting in a fortnight." That would give him enough time to figure out any weaknesses Weiss had, and find solutions to snuff them out, for her sake.

"Father?" Weiss finally stopped looking ahead and turned to look up at her Father. He met her gaze with soft eyes. The blue orbs softened as she met his, and he swore there was a little water in her eyes as they looked at one another.

"Soon you shall be a grown lady, flowered and married. You shall be the one to rule Lannisport, not your future husband." Dramen said. His line would continue through Weiss and Rosamund, even if his youngest would bear husbands name once she married."It's about time I begin to teach you how to rule."

Weiss smiled and tilted her head slightly. "Thank you, Father!"

Dramen was sure that Weiss would grow up to be a lion that would lead the sheep. They may have been a simple cadet branch of the Lannisters, but the blood of Lann the Clever still ran through their veins. If Weiss was as skilled at ruling as she was with a blade, then Lannisport's future was secure.

What a fine daughter he had.

Daenerys

Myr smelled different than Braavos, or at least, her memories of it. Braavos smelled of sweetwater, fish and perfume, a not altogether unpleasant mixture of odors. Daenerys still remembered the smell of the lemon tree that had sat beneath the window of her room, in the house with the red door. Dany still didn't know why they had to leave. She remembered watching poor Ser Willem take his last breath, and the next thing she knew, she was out on the street with her older brother with just a couple of bags hastily packed.

Myr smelled like garlic and food seasoning, it was rather pleasant, if a bit smelly at times. The roof over their heads certainly helped a lot, with a rich Myrish merchant providing them with a manse for their use. Their Host was an old man, with olive skin, but he was a kind man. He even gifted Daenerys a new dress, a lovely red and black dress that looked like what a Queen would wear! Viserys didn't like it though, so she was forced into an older dress that she had managed to bring from Braavos. A faded blue dress, it wasn't as well fitting and showed some patchwork, but it still looked nice on her. Viserys was throwing a feast tonight, with men invited from somewhere called the Golden Company. Dany didn't know much, aside from what her brother ranted whenever they slept in the same bed. Admittedly, that didn't mean much, he ranted about almost everything in bed.

Collared servants scurried around the manse as Dany wandered the grounds, her hair hidden by a scarf, the Kind Host called it a wimple from Tyrosh. She didn't see the reason to hide the color of her hair, her lilac eyes would reveal who she was, as the younger sister to King Viserys Targaryen, the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. However, the Kind Host and Viserys agreed for once that she needed to be kept a secret at all cost. Her maid was a beautiful woman whose tongue had been removed, yet she still cared for Dany. It felt nice, having an older lady care for her.

"Daenerys." Dany whipped her head around to find the familiar voice behind her. She had wandered into the gardens, admiring the flowers which were rare in Braavos. It was a city of stone, not of greenery, with the exception of a scattered tree or garden. It was Viserys, wearing clothes in the Westerosi style, his finest set. He had the image of a three headed dragon sewn onto the right breast of the doublet signifying his royalty.

"Brother-" Viserys silenced her by roughly grabbing her chin. He pressed his thumb and middle finger into her cheeks, pressing them together in her mouth. Dany's eyes widened slowly, but did not resist his urges.

"You will remain silent during the feast." Viserys said with a low snarl. "Do not embarrass me, do you understand? I need to win over the Golden Company if we are to return home."

Home was the house with the pretty red door in Braavos, yet King's Landing felt familiar through Viserys stories. He always spoke of Mother, Father, and Rhaegar before they went to bed. And Dragonstone, their ancestral home. Ser Willem said that Daenerys was born in the middle of a storm, just before the Usurper's dog brother seized them to deliver them to his kinslaying king.

Viserys' dark eyes stared into Dany's, without remorse or pity in the orbs. "You do not want to awaken the dragon, do you?"

Dany frantically nodded her head as best as she could. Her brother's fingers were rough, but at least he hadn't pinched her this time. Viserys was kind and took care of her, he was just stressed about returning home. Once they were home, he'd calm down, for sure, wouldn't he?

Viserys lips pressed together to form a thin smile on his face that was both comforting, and foreign at once. She didn't like it. "Good girl."

Dany didn't want to awaken the dragon.

The men of the Golden Company certainly lived up to their name. The three men that her brother personally hosted wore golden rings on their arms, in addition to ornate clothes and other ornaments. Viserys sat across from a man that they called Myles Toyne, the Blackheart. He was ugly, with a crooked jaw, the biggest nose Dany had ever seen, and had jug shaped ears. Dany sat beside her brother, across from a rather portly man, with gray eyes that almost seemed familiar, and a big round head. Brother had said that his name was Harry Strickland, and served as a paymaster for the fabled company. The man that sat on the other side of the Blackheart lived up to their Captain-General's name, with skin as dark as the night, and he was addressed Balaq. He had hair as white as Viserys, and wore a cape of colorful feathers which looked magnificent. All three wore shiny golden armor, and golden rings that decorated their fingers and their arms.

"I can promise riches, lordships even, should the Golden Company pledge their loyalty and seat me on the Iron Throne." Viserys said, a collared servant filling his goblet with fine wine that was red and dark as blood. The three men of the Golden Company only laughed as they continued to eat their fill of the fine food offered to them.

"Who would rise?" The Blackheart said, his tone light despite his gravelly voice. He had hung a sword over the back of the chair he sat on. The handle was beautiful and ornately crafted, yet well-worn, with a golden pommel and crossguard. The handle being a deep blue that reminded her of the sea. It must've been Valyrian steel, yet the blade itself was hidden by the sheath.

"The Reach and Dorne, they faithfully answered my Father's command." Viserys said confidently. "And many lords of the Riverlands and the Stormlands would join."

Harry Strickland giggled, pulling a lamb leg out of his mouth, the bone missing most of the meat on it, and tossed it aside. It made Daenerys' stomach gurgle, Viserys said that she wasn't allowed to eat until the end of dinner. "The Reach and Dorne bent the knee to King Robert. I even heard that the Usurper's brother married a Hightower."

"You would make a fine spymaster, Harry." Balaq the Summer Islander added with an accented chuckle. However, even from Dany's limited lessons, she could tell this was a problem. The Reach and Dorne had been what she thought would be their biggest supporters, and yet, they had bent the knee. The Crownlands were under the direct rule of the Usurper, which meant there was no large group of supporters to rally. Her brother, though, didn't seem to care, launching into a rant about how the smallfolk kept Dragon banners in their attics, and would stream to their side once they landed in Westeros.

Dany paid no mind to their conversation, as it began devolving into another of her brother's rants, and kept her gaze focused on the hilt of the sword. For some reason, she was drawn to it, like she'd seen it in a dream somewhere. Could it be Dark Sister or Blackfyre? Viserys loved to speak about the Valyrian swords that had belonged to their House before they were lost to the sands of time. She seemed to have gained Blackheart's attention after staring a bit too hard at the blade.

"Never seen a sword such as this, girl?" The Blackheart said with a dark smirk decorating his face. He lifted a goblet of Tyroshi wine to his thick lips, taking a sip before continuing. "It belonged to Bittersteel himself, and is passed from Captain-General to Captain-General as a symbol of who would lead the company."

Dany sensed Viserys glaring daggers at her, yet she remained firm and nodded once. It was logical, people had different traditions, and passing a sword from Head to heir was familiar to her.

"I'd show off the blade, but it's rude to show steel during a feast." The Blackheart reached behind him and grabbed the sheathed bastard sword, showing it to her and the rest of the table. The sheath looked like it had been a cream color, once upon a time, but was long faded and battered and stained in many places. Once Viserys' anger passed, she would ask him for stories about this Bittersteel.

"Will you wield it and seat me on the Iron Throne?" Viserys pressed, interrupting Blackheart's next sentence. The three men shared knowing grins and chuckles until Blackheart shrugged. A worrying sign, to say the least.

"I shall sleep on such a generous offer, your Grace." His voice was low and sarcastic, which left a bad taste in Daenerys' mouth. They continued to feast with laughter and cheers, with Dany finally getting a chance to eat something once they had gone. Her brother was irate with her once they returned to bed, shouting at her and how she had disrespected his efforts to win back their Home.

The officers of the Golden Company left without a word on the morrow, and a fortnight later, the Kind Host threw Dany and Viserys out onto the streets. No explanation was given, but in her mind, Viserys had grown more unstable after the dinner, and one night, deep in his cups, had revealed that he had sold their mother's crown in order to pay for the dinner and to get them to even show up to the dinner in the first place.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

A/N

Chapters won't be out as fast as they used to be, to prevent burnout. I've never written this much in a short period of time. Wouldn't have been able to make it this far without Night_Stalker and the support of you dear readers!

We hope it was an enjoyable update.