Last Dragons

LAST DRAGONS

277 AC

Free Cities – Lys

Lys the Lovely. The city that had been awarded the name for its beauty and the beauty its inhabitants equally held. Steffon Baratheon could not, nor would he dare, go against that judgement. Since he and his wife, Cassana Baratheon, née Estermont, had stepped foot inside the city walls, they had seen nothing but loveliness. From the palm trees that covered them from the unforgiving sun above, to the stone walls that shone like marble, to the sandy floors that had been carelessly dusted, to the beauties that passed by them. Cassana noted that even those shackled in chains and sailors that were loitering around the harbour would be considered handsome in Westeros. Some of them reminded her of the young Prince Rhaegar, some even of the King's youthful days.

Aerys had sent both Steffon and his wife on a special expedition with one goal in mind; to find his heir a wife that held not only the blood of old Valyria, but was also a highborn lady. Of course their first stop was the ancient and once Valyrian conquered Volantis. Their search was futile however, there was not one noble family that had any Valyrian blood running through their veins. The only thing that they could bring back to the King was a fool who had entertained them during their stay. He could even put a smile on Stannis' face. Steffon thought to himself, laughing at how the fool entertained the company.

On the night that they were due to sail back to Kings Landing, Cassana refused to leave without taking back to Aerys what he had ordered of them. She insisted that they sailed to Lys, where she knew the once wife of Aegon IV, Larra Rogare, had returned to live out her days many years ago. Hopefully, her child continued on the bloodline of Aegon. If Steffon's mother had taught Cassana anything, it was that Targaryen men could not resist mistresses.

Out of pure luck and Cassana questioning anyone who would answer to her, they found out that the Rogare bank was still in operation. Though many mentioned to them that it had struggled to continue its grandeur after the fall of the Rogare's at the hands of their ancestors. So as a dutiful husband did, Steffon agreed to go to Lys, their search for the bank lasting a long two nights.

Their search was halted by a slave master who had heard of their quest and he offered to take them to the bank, only if they agreed to attend the opening of his pleasure house. Much to Cassana's displeasure, Steffon agreed. His men could use a little unwinding after long journey.

"Why the Rogare bank?" The slave master asked them, Steffon learned his name to be Mateos, asked them. "I can point you to a more...trustworthy bank." He offered, laughing at their naivety. Cassana had opted to wait for her husband outside of the house, choosing instead to watch the many water fountains that lined the streets elegantly.

Steffon wondered why he spoke of the family like that. "Why do you say such things?" He asked him, taking the plush seat he was offered and crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Mateos gave him a knowing look. "Hundreds of years ago, the Westerosi disgraced the family, only the daughter returned with her daughter. Father and son, dead. It's surprising you don't know their story," he said, almost as if he had heard the tale a thousand times over.

Steffon scoffed. "I don't think the King of the Seven Kingdoms will care what his ancestors did."

Mateos shook his head. "The Rogare's were and still are bad seed. They marry their siblings and cousins to keep the failing bank in their own hands."

Steffon let out a hearty laugh. "They sound perfect for my King."

Mateos gave him a disgusted look, and Steffon shrugged his shoulders. The subject was quickly changed. "Will you do me the honours of being the first to lay with my most prized possession?"

Steffon shook his head, knowing exactly what his wife would do to him if he dared to even gaze at the so called prized possession of Mateos'. "My wife would have my head."

It was Mateos' turn to laugh, the silver haired handsome man slapped his thigh as he did so. "I forgot your women keep you in chains. No," Mateos smiled, watching as a thin woman walked into the room. The girl looked a spitting image of him, silver hair, light blue eyes, rosy cheeks and clad in finery. "Here, we keep our women in chains." Steffon turned away as the girl straddled Mateos and he kissed her. It seemed that he was talking to her more than he was to Steffon. "A man cannot be tamed, Lord Baratheon."

Steffon stood from his seat and rubbed his hands together. "Well, congratulations and I wish you the best in your future ventures, I really must get back to my wife."

Mateos pushed the girl off his lap and onto the seat next to him. "Thank you, I'll show you the bank." Steffon nodded his head and followed him out of the house, not before witnessing many men and women naked as the day as they were born, some he even recognised as his own men. "It's not too far from here," Mateos said, pointing to the oval roofed building at the end of the street.

Steffon looked down at the man baffled. "You wasted my time!" He exclaimed.

Mateos looked back at him, shocked. "You wasted mine! I brought in the most beautiful girl and you rejected her."

"I have a wife," Steffon snapped back. It was obvious that the Lyseni man had tried to use him for his gold.

"So do I," Mateos smirked back, walking ahead of Steffon as Cassana joined him.

"How was it?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and following the exotic man in front of them as Steffon was doing.

Steffon lifted his shirt to show his wife his breaches, they were tied exactly the way she had done before he went into the house. The knot, only she knew how to tie and untie. "I have eyes for one woman and one woman only," he said, nudging her.

Cassana smiled at her husband and took his hand in her own. "I never doubted you."

Oh sure. Steffon thought to himself and rolled his eyes at his insecure wife. They had been married over twenty years, of which eighteen they spent in utter and complete love. He loved her dearly and loved his sons just the same. They had believed in the early stages of their marriage that was baron, but she proved both Steffon and his mother wrong, giving the Baratheon name three sons. A gift from the gods.

Mateos stopped in front of a large double-sided door and pushed it open, revealing a magnificent room inside. The ceiling seemed to go on forever, the windows were decorated with large R's and tapestries gave the room and air of nobility. "Good day," Mateos said once Cassana and Steffon had stepped into the room. Steffon and Cassana continued to examine the room, it had marble floors, pillars that held the roof up and many doors lined the room. Steffon wondered how much gold, silver, and bronze was held behind those doors.

"Thank you," Cassana smiled, watching Mateos scowl at the room and leave hurriedly.

The door slammed shut and a small woman popped her head from underneath the large table at the front of the room. "Hello?" She said, the word coming out as a question.

"Where are the Rogare's?" Steffon asked, having no time left for pleasantries.

The blonde haired girl frowned at his rudeness. "I'll go and get my master," she squeaked shuffling away from the desk and leaving to a door the led out of the entrance room.

She returned with a large male, who had skin as white as snow, hair as dark as the night and red eyes. Cassana gripped her husband's hand tighter, fearing the creature that had emerged from the large doors. The man had a thin scar that went from his left eye down to his chin, as he neared them Cassana noticed light white specks at the top of his head.

"Can I help you?" he huffed, standing behind the table with his arms outstretched and resting on top of the wooden table.

Steffon looked at the young man, wanting to tell him to be a little bit more respectful. He pulled the scroll that Aerys had signed before their departure and handed it him. "From our King, in the Seven Kingdoms."

The man eagerly snatched the parchment and opened it up, reading it swiftly, he rolled it back up and smiled at Steffon. "Follow me," he said, indicating with his index finger.

"Well, can we at least know your name?" Steffon asked, watching him walk back to the door he had come out of.

"Drazenko," he paused for a moment, "Drazenko Rogare."

Steffon nodded his head and followed behind him, tugging Cassana along. "And how will you help us find a wife for the heir?" Steffon asked him once more, looking suspiciously around the long hallway that Drazenko was leading them through.

Drazenko turned to Steffon, annoyed by his questions. "I think my father can answer to you better." He said, stopping at the end of the hallway at a large staircase that was surrounded by a spacious room. Leading them up the steps, down another hallway and then to a wooden door. He knocked on it twice, a gruff voice responded and he opened the door.

"They have come from Westeros, on order from the King," Drazenko said, moving aside and allowing Steffon and Cassana to enter the room.

Steffon assumed the man seated at the large desk was his father, the man was a spitting image of his son, though his skin was a little more...humane... and he had purple eyes. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, standing from his seat and outstretching his hand for Steffon to shake.

"Steffon Baratheon, and you are?"

"Monford Riverlys, I hope my son has introduced himself?" Monford asked, looking at his son with displeasure.

Steffon frowned. "He has," he chose to leave out their differing names and handed Monford the letter, just as he had done earlier.

"This must be your wife?" Monford asked, taking the parchment from his hands.

"Cassana Baratheon," Cassana said, glowering at her husband who had forgotten to mention her like she was some common mistress.

Monford didn't notice their tension, distracted by the words in front of him. "I suppose it's not my sons you came here for?" He jested.

"No, I don't think Targaryen's have ever had trouble producing men. It's a girl we need, with evidence of her ties with Valyria." Steffon responded, holding his hands behind his back.

Monford looked around his office. "You're in Lys. This was a resort for those from Valyria many years ago. You wouldn't have to search hard."

"Well let's not redirect them while we're at it," Drazenko glared, shifting the conversation away from his father, he turned to Steffon. "The bastard daughter of Aegon the Unworthy, Shiera Seastar, had a child with her half-brother, Bryden Rivers. That child had a child with Larra Rogare's bastard child, his aunt, and so the Riverlys bloodline was born." He said, circling his father's desk and standing behind it. "We don't just have the blood of old Valyria, we have both father and son Viserys and Aegon. We are just as much Targaryen as the King himself."

Steffon sucked in a breath. "I'd like to see the marriage scroll that the Maester wrote."

Drazenko scoffed. "Do you think Brynden had time to find a Maester while the Blackfyre rebellion raged on?"

Steffon stared back at him. "We need to see some evidence that you are who you say you are," Cassana said, her voice never wavering as she stared down at the young man, who was more defiant and confident than they had expected.

Drazenko looked at them coldly, he pushed the curtain behind his father's desk to the side and revealed a proud family tree behind them, with names written neatly and faces drawn delicately. He pointed to a blackened image five generations above the last names. "Brynden," Drazenko said, tutting at the dry ink that had been painted over what would've been the image of the man he had looked up to. "Shiera inked him off after he found out she had let his worst enemy into her bed, Aegor Rivers, his half-brother. He annulled their marriage and cursed him to the grave, sending her back to Lys with a babe in her arms and a sickly mother to return to."

Steffon looked at the family tree, the boy wasn't lying. There was a dotted line from Larra that connect to Aegon and another to House Blackwood, a Westerosi House. "So you have a girl for us then?" Steffon asked Monford, this family was the closest they would get to the blood of old Valyria and Targaryen.

Monford beamed standing from his seat eagerly. "My youngest, Shiera, she is a beauty indeed, after her namesake of course." He said, shuffling out of the room, his old age not helping him in his excited state as he tried to move faster.

Cassana decided to stay behind in the study as her husband followed behind Monford. She watched intently as Drazenko looked at the family tree longingly. "You like him?" She asked, nearing the desk as she did so.

Drazenko turned to her and nodded his head. "I do not know who I look up to more, Aegor for fighting for the rightful heir to be on the throne or Brynden, because he is a little bit of my creator. I do not know much about Larra's bastard child, other than he was smart enough to keep the bank under our family." He said, touching the name under Larra's. Lenox Rogare.

Cassana chose to ignore the statement of rightful heir and nodded her head in understanding. "Has your family always been intermarrying?" She asked, pointing to the tree once more.

"My father married his cousin, Alyse Rogare, to keep the bank from falling to unwanted hands," Drazenko responded.

"You do not take your father's name, do your siblings choose to take your mother's maiden name?" She asked him.

Drazenko shrugged his shoulders. "Riverlys is a stupid name, it was originally Rivers and then Seastar and then people started to get confused so my grandfather made it Riverlys. Very simple if I'm to be honest. I'd rather take the name of the founders of this bank, who built something great from nothing."

"So you would've married your sister?" Cassana asked, feeling now she was growing invasive.

"If my brother didn't ask for her hand first, yes, out of duty."

Cassana wanted to be revolted, but her own King and his family did the exact thing, so she jested the young man. "A love triangle. Almost like your idols."

Drazenko looked at her, his red eyes piercing through her own brown ones. "I do not compete, I win." Cassana let a small okay fall from her lips silently, she begged her husband would return soon. "Come," he instructed, leaving her alone in the room for a brief moment. Cassana wondered how his family put up with his hostile behaviour but soon remembered Stannis, who was similar to him and followed him.

He led them down the stairs and into a lounge room, where her husband, Monford and three other figures stood. Drazenko stopped a few steps away from the group and watched as his father recounted the situation to his family. His mother, Alyse Rogare, who he had inherited his albinism from, clapped her hands in excitement, his brother, Valaar Riverlys, who had been born deformed in Drazenko's eyes, with silver hair, a left blue eye and a right purple eye, looked down at the floor, his sister, Shiera Riverlys, frowned at her father.

Shiera was astonished to hear of her sudden betrothal to a random Prince, her father had promised she could marry or bed anyone she wanted, her status did not hurt the family in any way so she was a free women. "Father," she warned, looking between her two brothers, her mother, her father and the new woman who entered the room. "Lord Baratheon," she said, holding her head high, "I am sorry, but I have to reject your choice."

Drazenko let out a hearty laugh. "Dear sister, rejection is not a choice."

"Drazenko," his brother snapped, angry that he had shown such dominant disrespectful behaviour in front of guests. "Watch your tongue." Drazenko rolled his eyes and looked at his father, expecting him to put his sister in her place.

"If I could have it anyway, I would my dear, but this opportunity is too grand to miss. It would bring us some honour, some respect, some customers," Monford whispered, bringing his daughter close by her shoulders.

Shiera pushed her father hands from her shoulders gently. "When does he want to marry?" She asked, turning to Steffon.

"The sooner the better," he responded, unsure of the tension in the room. "We should leave, give you some time to think about it."

Drazenko took the scroll that was in Steffon's hands, having noticed while he read it an area where the intended was to sign. He snapped his fingers and a shackled man from the shadows scurried to find his master a quill and ink, returning panting he gave him the quill and held out the ink for him. "We don't need time to think." He signed the parchment and handed it to Steffon. "Let us know when you plan to sail out."

...

The Baratheon's had long left the Rogare villa, leaving the family on their own after Alyse insisted that they stay for a short tea. She had been excited to display her new teas that Valaar had brought for her from Myr, but had little friends to do so for.

Drazenko had ordered his sister to start packing for the trip, but she had refused him and stormed to her room, leaving him looking a fool in front of his family. His brother, Valaar continued to warn him. "What you have done has ruined our lives." He whispered to him, leaving to begin preparations to sail out. Valaar had a love for ships and sailing and was only at home during the winter, when the seas were too rough, so it was odd that he was home during the summer. He had promised his father that he was touring the Free Cities finding customers for their bank and trading goods. Drazenko didn't believe his brother however, knowing full well he was looking for someone to buy out the bank.

Drazenko opened the door to his sisters room and watched as she fumbled to cover herself in her freshly warmed bath. "Have you started packing?" He asked her, sitting on her plush bed, amused by her anger towards him. They had never seen eye to eye, but he was still dominant over her.

"I will go there with nothing, show them that I am no highborn," she sneered back at him, her eyes turned red from her crying and her cheeks were hot with frustration. "Why won't you let me live my life as I want to live it."

Drazenko neared her bath and she cowered away to a small corner. He sat on the edge and outstretched his bulky arm to her cheek and stroked it. "Because dear sister, this is our one way to reclaim what was taken from our family. Just as they did many years ago."

Shiera glared at him and moved away from his hand. "That was a hundred years ago, that is old history. When will you grow up and live in today?"

"When I am given what is rightfully mine,' Drazenko smirked back at her, biting his lip as he looked down at her body through the murky water.

Shiera felt her stomach turn, the tea she had forced down was begging to return back up. "Get out," she demanded, holding her hands over her breasts tightly.

Drazenko gave her a dark look and slapped her sharply, leaving a burning sensation on her cheek, his family ring leaving behind a small trace of blood. "You forget yourself sister. You forget your role. Love whomever you want, but if that Dragon chooses to make you his wife, his mistress, his cupbearer, his whore, his slave, than you shall be."

...