Chapter 3
Haedryn, as he told Lord Doniphos and the other Elephants, only stayed in Volantis for seven days, but it was not an idle seven days. Though his galleons did not have the same look as the volanteen coins they were still gold and as a port city, many denominations flowed through Volantis’s streets and gold was gold. Haedryn had a saddle built for him to use while riding Terrax. The leatherworker he’d found had apparently worked with basilisk skin before but was greatly surprised at the length and width of the individual skin Haedryn had provided him with. Apparently most basilisks that were felled were little more than eight or nine feet long and no wider than a foot at most a foot in a half in circumference. Haedryn also learned that here on Planetos basilisks did not have the ability to kill with a mere look of their eyes, however they did have one of most potent poisons known to man. With the promise of five galleons the man swore he would have the saddle finished before the week was up and he had come through.
It wasn’t a traditional horsemens saddle. Haedryn didn’t think he even had enough basilisk skin to even attempt making the straps for something like that in Terrax’s size. Instead the saddle was meant to be attached between two of Terrax’s large back spikes strapping it to the bony protrusions. Though just to be certain Haedryn also layered it with many sticking charms. It had a multitude of straps meant for tying off bags or other burdens and could be manipulated in order to allow passengers who could also strap themselves safely in, meaning if he wished Haedryn could allow himself to fall asleep on Terrax’s back without worrying his sticking charm might fail. It had a tall front with handle grips on either side that could be leaned against comfortably for dives or other aerial acrobatics. The basilisk scale, a faded gray blue color that hadn’t looked all that fantastic, had been dyed through whatever processes the leatherworker knew and was now a rather pretty pastel blue. Haedryn had passed an extra coin over to the man for the trouble.
Acquiring Terrax’s saddle was not the only thing Haedryn did during his week in Volantis. He, with the permission of their owners, permissioned gained simply by politely asking in the face of their fear of him, raided the libraries of the Elephants searching for anything that pertained to Westeros’ History, the Targaryens, the Belaerys, or the Three-Eyed-Raven. All of them had been quite quick to allow Haedryn access to their sacred collections of texts and tombs, much to the consternation of many of their heirs who were not told of the events that had occurred immediately following the feast where Haedryn had been introduced. Nonetheless Haedryn found much of the information he was looking for. In his personal opinion the majority of the Targaryen Kings had been foolish men, in particular Viserys I whose second marriage to Lady Alicent destabilized the position of his chosen heir, Baelor I who had allowed religion a great foothold in the kingship, and Aegon IV a frankly spoiled and uncaring king. His knowledge on the current events of the Targaryen House was provided by young Visemon who served as Haedryn’s unofficial tour guide of Volantis, Prince Doniphos sacrificing his second son temporarily to Haedryn’s service rather than his heir as would be more prudent. Haedryn would not be taking the boy with him when he left the city however.
There was little to be found on his own House beyond what Haedryn already knew from his dreams and much of Westeros’s history at least concerning anything after the conquest was covered through the same books that covered the Targaryen history and the Targaryen rule of Westeros. As for the Three Eyed Raven, Haedryn found little that could count as definitive. Westeros used ravens rather than riders to communicate, and several Houses, some of which were extinct, had ravens in their sigil, such as Blackwood, Corbray, Doggett and Hoare. House Blackwood’s seat was also known as the Raventree Hall and a Mistress of the long dead King Maegor I Targaryen was known as the King’s Raven. There was also another man, a Targaryen bastard by the name of Brynden Rivers, who was known as Lord Bloodraven. His mother had even been a Blackwood but nothing on a three eyed raven that could speak. Haedryn knew that much like his ability to dreamwalk in Terrax’s form it was obvious that whomever the Three Eyed Raven was, he was able to change his form from man to animal as well. Haedryn didn’t even know for sure the age of whomever the Three Eyed Raven was, let alone that he’d ever done anything to be written about.
Haedryn left Volantis, seven days after he’d entered the city, on the back of Terrax and settled in a rather comfortable saddle seat. He was several galleons lighter, and several books and papers richer. He had chartered his course for Lys, before he would continue on to Westeros. He wasn’t entirely certain that the kingdom would take well to a dragonrider after the events that had toppled the Targaryen Dynasty but the frozen winter lake and clearing that he had dreamed of, the weirwood tree standing on the cliff beside it was something that could only be found in the North, a kingdom of Westeros, and Haedryn knew that until the Three-Eyed-Raven was dead he would never truly know peace on Planetos.
The flight to Lys took nearly twelve days in total, but only because for three of them Haedryn and Terrax had stayed out of the sky and camped on the Orange Shore of the Disputed lands as a sea storm lashed out around them. Haedryn suspected that Terrax likely had the strength to fly through the hurricane-like winds even without the magic Haedryn used to shield their camp, but it was still unlikely to be pleasant.
Much like his arrival at the city of Volantis, Haedryn was met by a party of horsemen upon climbing down from Terrax’s back after circling the island city multiple times to find the best landing place. Climbing down was easier after throwing down the lengthy piece of rope ladder he had tied to Terrax’s saddle. Haedryn had also made use of the various other straps of the saddle, tying off his tent and bedroll along with a few chests he had removed from his mokeskin bag, wanting easier access to their contents. Upon touching the ground it was quickly clear that word of his existence had traveled fast from Volantis and ahead of him, and that even things that had spoken or done in private had been revealed enough to no longer be secret.
“Hail Dragonlord Haedryn Belaerys, rider of the great Terrax, Mountain of the Skies, Omega of Valyria, and the Undying. We welcome you to our city and offer tribute,” the head rider, a gloriously beautiful man with curled ringlets of white blond hair, called out as several very pretty men and women knelt to the ground in front of him, quite obviously the tribute offered. Lys was a slave city after all.
“Hail,” Haedryn called back, as he used his magic to untether his bags and gently lower them to the ground in a neat pile. “Whom am I greeting?”
“Magister Stallan Pahryr,” Stallan said. “Of Lys of course.”
“Magister Pahryr, would it be possible to borrow a horse?” Haedryn asked. “I’m afraid my dear Terrax won’t fit within your beautiful city.”
“One will be brought for you immediately,” the magister answered as Haedryn approached on foot, his luggage floating behind him.
“Perfect,” Haedryn said. “As grudging as the admission was, the Volantene were not lying when they said that the Lysene were a beautiful people.” Haedryn flattered the Magister.
“Amongst the titles they did not include Silvertongue in reference to you, they should have,” the Magister said.
Lys was a gorgeous city, and its people were part of that. Haedryn fit right in with their valyrian looks. Only his vibrant green eyes were outliers amongst the shades of purple and violet, but that just seemed to make him even more exotic to the Lysene. That and his Omegan status as a male. Magisters offered him nights with their most beautiful and favored pleasure slaves and Haedryn’s bags now contained more sweet perfumes than he could ever use. He’d also been given several casks of red and white wine made from Lysene sweet grapes. He had purchased several cases of bananas, coconuts, papayas, figs and pineapples and charmed the crates with charms to keep them fresh. Clay pots of spices, worth more than their weight in gold were sealed with wax and tucked away till he found a place to truly make home. Small trinkets given as gifts, and bolts of fabric offered to him were tucked in other trunks, ones he had acquired when it became clear the gifts would simply keep coming. Even if he had not had the gold from his vaults within his bags he’d have been carrying a fortune at his side.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately given his current locale, his heat hit while he was still in Lys. Magister Stallan Pahryr who hosted him during his stay in the tropical city was all too happy to provide him with the best of furs imported from northern Westeros, and fragrant woods to burn in the braziers around the airy rooms. Thin slices of nearly raw meat, Haedryn’s usual heat craving, were served to him as he lounged naked, covered sensually by silk bolts of cloth on the pelts of snow bears and shadowcat by beautiful men and women. Though it was offered, and certainly tested his willpower, Haedryn did not indulge in the pleasures of their flesh. Haedryn could have luxuriated there for weeks on end, but there was still the Three Eyed Raven hanging over his head, and as much as Haedryn enjoyed relaxing he was as always a man of adventure.
All in all Haedryn spent nearly a month in Lys before he began planning his trip onwards. Several days before he could leave Lys however, several Westerosi ships made port. According to Magister Stallan, three of the ships were from the Westerlands region of Westeros, and two were recognizable as being part of the formerly Targaryen and currently Baratheon Royal Navy. The important passengers of all five ships seemed to want one thing; to speak to Haedryn.
Rather than meet them in Magister Stallan’s manse, as beautiful as it was, Haedryn decided that he would meet with the men who had traveled to see him on his terms. For time being the good Magister decided to host them for the few hours it would take for Haedryn to set up his tent and prepare himself. The slaves Magister Stallan had gifted Haedryn with when he’d first arrived at the city, and much to the Magister’s silent amusement had been immediately freed before Haedryn had officially hired them at a decent wage as part of his household were a godsend of help. In addition to helping Haedryn in setting up, their presence also helped in providing the stepping stones for Haedryn’s legitimacy in this world. Haedryn picked an area not far from the city to pitch his tent. An area that had enough space for Terrax to lounge comfortably beside the tent. The tent itself was a marvel of magic. It set itself up with a mere flick of Haedryn’s magic and from the outside; it seemed to stand about twelve feet tall at its highest point and was about twenty feet long and fifteen feet wide. The inside was much larger than that however, as nearly all wizarding tents were.
Sleek cherry colored merbau wood paneling covered the entryway floor and wide vertical panels of the same wood with slight inlays went halfway up the walls of the sitting slash entry room one was greeted with when first walking into the tent. The floor of the main room was stone, a dark gray marble with splashes of white veining through it. The upper portion of the walls was painted a soft olive color and beams of heavy dark stained oak formed the rafters that seemed to be much higher than the tent was on the outside. A crystal chandelier hung from the central rafter dripping down excessively and lighting the entirety of the room. Chaise lounges with butter white and cream brocade patterning and gold painted wood formed a seating area on either side of a sparkling white and gray marble hearth that crackled merrily. A white silk cloth banner hung on the chimney of the hearth, the vibrant green ouroboros dragon and the embroidered valyrian words of House Belaerys a stark claim. On the other two walls hung his other House banners. House Peverell’s purple tree of life on a vertically split field of black on the left and white on the right with ‘Noli Timere Mortem’ or Fear Not Death, House Peverell’s words embroidered along the bottom in silver. House Black’s banner hung on the wall opposite Peverells, containing the golden stars of the Columba constellation, the Dove, connected by silver lines on a field of navy blue split by a black pale with the words Toujours Pur embroidered in white at the bottom. Plush dark green loveseats and settees arranged in a three quarter circle openside facing the hearth on a beautiful butter white rug with emerald green elder futhark runes hand stitched along its border. On the opposite side of the room a large circular table had been set up. High backed chairs with cream colored cushions waited around the table.
Ilaya and Illelos, a sister and brother respectively, a set of twins of nineteen years of age hurried around setting up finishing touches from the pieces of artwork and expensive knick knacks that Haedryn had packed away in his chests when he cleared out the majority of his vaults. He had done so leaving only a small trust fund removed from House Black’s vaults for Teddy Lupin-Prince and one from the Peverell vaults for the unborn child of his aunts. Haedryn left Teddy this small inheritance despite knowing that the Prince and Ravenclaw estates were waiting for him when he grew up, Nymphadora had played surrogate for the two men and she was of Black blood so it felt right. With both of Teddy’s parents dead and with Haedryn, his godfather, gone across worlds, young Tonks was raising the child and Haedryn knew despite leaving the Prince and Ravenclaw Regency to her she would never touch the vaults, and the trust fund was all the boy had access to until little Ted turned eleven, Severus never having gotten around to arranging everything before that final battle.
Elaborate wood and stone carvings of various animals dotted the shelves and small tables of the room gifts over the years from his stepsister, Luna. Haedryn didn’t plan on letting anyone into the other rooms of the tent; those doors closed, so this room had to provide the best impression and the little statues were both personal and expensive looking. Despite Terrax’s presence, Haedryn needed the Westerosi Lords to see him as less of a threat than he truly was by playing into eccentric whimsy, but still enough of a threat to understand attempting to overtly manipulate him or outright kill him was not in their best interests. So riches, extravagance, and eccentrism to couple alongside his magic and dragon.
“The Westerosi use salt and bread to provide guest rights,” Haedryn said. “Do ensure we have some available.”
“Of course my Lord,” Illelos said with a head bow before he scurried off. Ilaya set up the three decanters of alcohol Haedryn had chosen to provide for this little meeting; a Glenmorangie whiskey, a Belvedere vodka, and a twenty-sixteen Masseto, a dark and expressive merlot should someone request wine. Crystal tumblers and wine glasses were set out ready to be filled as needed. Illelos returned to the room from the kitchen area with a bowl of salt and a loaf of french style bread, and two other servants Haedryn had hired set down little bowls of hard sweets and small porcelain plates of biscuits and tea cakes on the other small tables around ready to be picked up and served once everyone was sat at the table.
“Alright,” Haedryn said. “Ilaya alert the others, we’re ready.”
“Of course my Lord,” Ilaya said, giving a small curtesy before hurrying off to warn the others that Haedryn had hired after freeing. Haedryn sent off his Patronus, Chitter, the Fennec Fox animagus form of his best friend and during the war, battle buddy Blaise, to Magister Stallan to give him permission to send the Lords to him and settled to wait outside.
The party of men stopped a decent distance away from Terrax and the tent, dismounting and leaving their horses in the care of one of the people Haedryn had hired along with a few of their own men, not wanting to risk their mounts panicking. Haedryn walked a short distance from the tent, just far enough to be polite, though Terrax rumbled and shifted his head a little closer. Beside him holding the platter of sliced bread and bowl of coarse salt, Ilaya and Illelos shifted nervously. He had introduced the twins who were his personal servants, and an older man, Cessero, who Haedryn had given the position of Steward, though given that his household currently numbered ten people it wasn’t as difficult a job as it might seem, to Terrax as people who he should not harm, but that didn’t mean that they were entirely comfortable with his beastie.
“My Lords,” Haedryn greeted as the eight men and their multitude of guards approached. He gave a nod to the two pretty Lysene twins and they stepped forwards towards the men. “If you please, let’s get some pleasantries out of the way. I think we’d all be more comfortable with the protection of such niceties of guest rights in place. Then we can move on to introductions.” Based on basic physical descriptions, Haedryn could guess who a few of the men before him were. One of the youngest of the group, a stern faced, already balding young man who had the look of someone who had recently had to tighten his belt a few notches, was likely the newly made Prince of Dragonstone, Stannis of the House Baratheon, his brother having been officially been crowned only a few short months or moons ago. The three golden haired men were likely of the Westerlands, though Haedryn could only guess at the one the other two deferred to as being the Great Lion himself, Lord Tywin Lannister, the father of the woman who had recently become Queen by virtue of marrying Prince Stannis’ brother King Robert. Lord Lannister’s body language only acknowledged one other man in the group as an equal or at least less beneath him than the others. Haedryn suspected due to the man’s age, that the man was Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King. A man wearing white armor denoting his status as a Westerosi Kingsguard was also amongst the group. As to the rest of the men Haedryn had no idea.
Lord Arryn stepped forwards first, taking a piece of bread and dipping it in the salt before eating it, and the rest quickly followed. They all kept their eyes on Terrax as they did so. Haedryn made sure to partake last before inviting them within the tent. The temperature difference within the tent was noticeable. All eight of the men had been sweating in the tropical sun but the wizarding tent was equipped with enchantments stitched into the doorway that cooled it in the heat and warmed it in the cold. Eyes clearly widened at the obvious display of magic that the inside of the tent itself provided. Haedryn made his way over to one of the seats at the circular table that afforded him a good view of the men as they took in the opulence of the tent. The eight Lords entered along with the Kingsguard and the rest seemed to take up guard outside. Not that it would matter. The tent couldn’t be attacked because of the wards and even if it could, they’d have to get past Terrax.
“Please,” Haedryn said. “Sit.” All eight men, unlike him, were dressed for travel. He wore Lysene cut robes colored a soft green with only the barest bits of jewelry accessorizing him; his Belaerys ivory ring, and a valyrian steel hair clip that held his hair up in its braided bun, the stylized wings of the dragon it was formed as cupping around and looking as though it was aloft. The men in front of him wore a variation of styles, but all wore at least some bit of armor, be it the simple leather vests in various styles that most of them had on or the full on armor that forced two of the men to remain standing.
“I’m afraid,” Haedryn began as Ilaya and Illelos began serving them all a few fingers of whisky in crystal tumblers, “While I can guess at the identity of a few of you, I do not know most of your names. To be polite, although you all know my name I shall introduce myself nonetheless. I am Haedryn of the House Belaerys and it is a pleasure to host you, in my current and temporary home.” Haedryn saw a few significant looks passed amongst the men as he specified that he was only staying in Lys temporarily.
“I am Jon Arryn,” the eldest of the men spoke, proving Haedryn’s earlier thought correct as to his identity. “Lord Protector of the East and Hand of King Robert Baratheon, with me are Lord Protector of the West, Lord Tywin Lannister, his brother Lord Gerion Lannister, and also of the Westerlands, Lord Damon Marbrand. Lord Jason Mallister of Seagard is of the Riverlands, Lord Aemon Estermont, heir to Greenstone is a Stormlander, and in the bronze armor here, Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone is my fellow valeman. Finally, brother to the King, Lord Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone.”
Each man gave a movement of acknowledgement as Lord Arryn introduced them. Haedryn had been correct as to the identity of Lord Lannister, and it was a clear play of power that the Westerlands had three representatives, and two of them were of the same House. Lord Damon was handsome with a firm mouth and a roman nose but it was the two Lannister’s whose beauty overshadowed their fellow westerlander, all three had blond hair but Marbrand’s blue eyes had nothing on the green eyes of the Lannisters. Green eyes that nearly rivaled Haedryn’s own in vibrancy. Lord Jason Mallister was one of the two men wearing armor, not including the Kingsguard who had not been introduced, though his was fishscale mail over a leather layer, he was also blond, though a dirtier mousier blond than the westerlanders. Lord Yohn Royce was the other in armor, the aforementioned bronze armor, one etched completely with runes, some of which Haedryn recognized and was able to read, and others which looked familiar. After Lord Arryn, Aemon Estermont was clearly the eldest of the group, salt and pepper running through his dark hair, stormy gray eyes reminding him briefly of Sirius. Stannis Baratheon on the other hand was the youngest member of the party. Haedryn would be surprised if the boy was older than nine and ten, although it could be partly the clear starvation the boy had recently suffered.
“Lord Stannis?” Haedryn asked politely as he sipped at his whiskey. Lords Marbrand and Mallister were both quick to taste the alcohol as well. “Would it not be Prince Stannis?” Haedryn asked. “As you are brother to the King, and also currently his heir with your naming as the Lord of Dragonstone.”
“My brother has decided not to give his siblings that right and removed Dragonstone as the royal heirs seat, my son will inherit the seat after me,” Stannis answered rigidly. Haedryn saw the flash of irritation spark across Lord Tywin’s face. Clearly the man was not happy that his grandson and his family would not be inheriting what was once the traditional seat of House Targaryen. The silence stretched on.
“Well, perhaps we should cut right to it,” Haedryn said finally. He set his glass down on the table. “You’re here to attempt to learn my intentions regarding Westeros, and to, I suspect, see if I’m going to seek a Targaryen Restoration, or perhaps my own crowning.” Haedryn let his magic flash his eyes for a second, the wildfyre green bright and aptly accurate for the situation. “Let me assure you, I have no need for a dangerously spiky seat, I have one of my own outside, and I have even less use for upstart dragonlords without dragons. As I found in Volantis, they become annoyingly grasping. As for my intentions regarding Westeros, of that I am less certain than even you. I know only what my dreams tell me, and I go where they tell me. For now there is something in the northern region of your kingdom that I must see too. After that, who knows. Perhaps I might find a life there.”
“Dreams,” Lord Arryn scoffed. “Do you claim to be another Daenys? A dreamer like the Targaryens?”
“The Targaryens were never dreamers in truth,” Haedryn said. “Not before the mingling of our bloodlines at least. House Belaerys was always the House of dreamers in Valyria, but the main branch grew arrogant and after my ancestress Lady Jaenara killed herself, the goddess Shrykos revoked the gift from all but a few family lines. Not that the family ever revealed that little fact. They gave false dreams and were the main factor behind the denials of Daenys as a dreamer before the Doom. Her late mother was of House Belaerys. The main line however is dead, and I am the last of House Belaerys, and the last of a long line of dreamers.”
“And we should just take you at your word?” Lord Arryn asked. “Magic is long gone from Westeros.”
“And yet your fellow valeman wears enchanted armor,” Haedryn said. “Nearly completely uncharged but enchanted nonetheless. I’d guess you have rarely been injured while wearing it, and even the injuries you have gotten were lucky, as you escaped what was nearly almost certainly death. I could recharge it for you, as a gift,” Haedryn continued, holding up a hand and letting his magic manifest within it, shifting green light folding over blue over purple then back to green, like an aurora borealis.
“Perhaps not today,” Lord Royce said gruffly after a moment and then adding. “Forgive me if I don’t trust your so-called magic today.”
“I’d say fair enough but then again,” Haedryn motioned to their surroundings as filled with magic as they were as he leaned back slightly in his chair. “But I’ll leave the offer open.” Haedryn finished his whiskey and flicked his eyes over to Illelos and gave a significant look. He used his magic to put a very gentle, almost unnoticeable ball of light over the vodka. Other than Lord Stannis, everyone had finished the small amount of whiskey he had provided them, and with the exception of Lord Mallister, all seemed impressed by it. The vodka was poured and Ilaya offered small cakes most refusing, though Gerion Lannister took two of the small rum cakes, clearly a favorite.
“Regardless of magic's existence or nonexistence, you expect us to allow you to travel Westeros simply because you wish to search out the meaning of your dreams?” Lord Tywin asked. Haedryn chuckled.
“They call you the Great Lion,” Haedryn said. “Even here in Essos. You were the hand of the King during Aerys Targaryen for nearly twenty years, some say you were the real King for most of those years. That makes you a highly intelligent man. So tell me Great Lion,” Haedryn leaned forwards, elbows on the table and letting his chin rest on his hands. “How exactly do any of you intend to stop me?” Lord Mallister’s blade was suddenly out of its sheath metal singing as it left its confines. Haedryn raised an eyebrow.
“Lord Mallister,” Haedryn’s green eyes flicked to the mail and leather coated man. “Do you intend to break the guest right?” A loud rumbling made the men turn back to the door of the tent where just the barest hint of white scale snout was peeking in.
“No,” Lord Mallister said after a moment sheathing his sword.
“You are correct,” Lord Arryn said after the tension of the moment uncharged a little. “There is little we could do to stop you from coming to Westeros. But you seem a reasonable man Lord Belaerys. King Robert Baratheon charged me with giving you an offer.”
“Go ahead, My Lord Hand,” Haedryn replied with a graceful hand gesture.
“A lordship in Westeros, including lands and incomes, ancillary to certain conditions dependent on your choice between four offerings. For any of the four oaths of loyalty in perpetuity to the Crown and to whichever Great House your chosen lands would fall under,” Jon Arryn said, giving a nod towards Lord Royce. The man reached into the front of his chestplate and pulled free the parchment that he’d tucked there and offered it to his liege. Arryn took the proffered scroll passing it to Haedryn. Delicately Haedryn plucked the parchment and broke the seal of wax that held the string around it closed. He took a few moments to peruse the words written there, everything written there nearly exactly as Lord Arryn had said. There was however one small detail that made Haedryn pause.
“Do you think me a fool?” Haedryn asked.
“No Lord Haedryn,” Lord Arryn answered, seemingly as caught off guard as the other seven lords. Behind them all the Kingsguard man shifted, hand twitching towards his hilt.
“I will not give up my House’s name, nor let it die,” Haedryn said. “No matter who I might choose to marry. You realize that I truly could just settle within Westeros without signing this should I so choose, yes?” Haedryn asked.
“It does not ask that you give up your name or let it die!” It was Lord Stannis who hissed this between clenched teeth.
“Surely if my Lords have enough information to seek me out with such an offer they know that I am omega?” Haedryn asked, tossing the parchment in Lord Stannis’s direction. “This specifically states that the Alpha of my House shall swear his line in perpetuity to the Crown of Westeros. I can only believe that as the last member of my House until a child is born that you mean that whomever I marry will swear his line to the Crown. Therefore meaning any children I bear will have his name. I will not have that.”
“An unfortunate phrasing,” Lord Arryn placated. “It can be fixed.”
“Very well,” Haedryn answered. “Though I will sign nothing until it is perhaps we might look to see exactly what lands I would be acquiring?”
Discussions continued for three days until it was decided that Haedryn would settle within the North, a kingdom ruled by a man in close alliance with King Robert, and which was though it was left unsaid, very much insular and unlikely to be as friendly with the idea of a foreigner living amongst him let alone allowing him to get ideas of another rebellion this time with him at it’s head. He would find few allies amongst them. His other offering had been the Westerlands but it had very little unclaimed land unlike the North where Terrax would have space to roam. In the end it was agreed that he would claim Skagos, the islands currently ruled by wild clans that hadn’t sworn themselves to Winterfell or House Stark in nearly twelve generations. Before that however Haedryn would be required to travel to King’s Landing, to swear himself to King Baratheon upon his entry to Westeros. When the new contract was brought to the table, Haedryn signed all four copies despite knowing that in truth he didn’t need to. Better to live in peace under a ruler he could leave at any time than constant war. One concession he gave that he wasn’t totally at peace with was that the Crown had to approve his marriage. He was unsure as to exactly how he thought about that idea but in truth there was little the Crown could do should he wish to marry someone they didn’t approve of anyways.
At the end of the negotiations Haedryn played a small power move. In addition to the reddish lion motif valyrian steel sword and his own family sword he had found a few other valyrian steel swords. He would be giving two to House Baratheon. A bit of a show of his generosity, a taste of how well he could treat them should they not piss him off. One whose blade was dark steel with intriguing rings of blue white peeking from the patterned metal. It was fitting for the purpose that elegantly etched name; Stormbreaker, in Valyrian, sat boldly on the blade close to the hilt.
“Lord Stannis,” Haedryn said, “House Targaryen once had two Valyrian steel swords, Dark Sister and Blackfyre. They lost both. They lost the throne they made for themselves. House Baratheon now sits on that throne, but also without a Valyrian sword to its name.” Every Lord's eye was affixed to the sheathed longsword blade that Illeyo carried in his arm to Haedryn. Haedryn extended the sheathed blade hilt first to the young Baratheon Lord. “I present to you Stormbreaker, salvaged from the ruins of my family's ancestral lands. May it serve you well.”
Still stoic, the young Lord grasped the hilt with both hands. The blade may not be as heavy as others in its class but it was still unwieldy enough to require both hands. The draw from its sheath, a simple black leather one that Haedryn had used magic to create, enchanted the blade sing a low rumble sound as it was drawn, like the sound of distant thunder. The sound was just quiet enough to be put off as a natural sound of the draw but just odd enough to give connotations.
“I hope you won’t mind if I hold off on gifting the second sword to your House until I am in front of your brother King Robert myself, Lord Stannis?” Haedryn asked mildly.
“Yes of course Lord Belaerys,” Lord Stannis was almost breathless with a twisted look of want in his eyes and a forced look of stoicism plastered across his face.
“Word said you came from the East but we were unaware that you traveled through Valyria,” Lord Tywin spoke once the blade was sheathed and strapped to the young Baratheon Lord’s back.
“I had hoped that perhaps after all this time the land would be less poisonous. I was wrong however. If I did not have my magic or Terrax, I doubt I would have survived. Perhaps some of the outer islands but certainly not the capital. The very air was poisonous,” Haedryn answered as he walked with the men back to their horses.
“Perhaps I could ask you some questions about Valyria when we travel? I am sailing on the Laughing Lion if you would like to share my boat. It is slower than dragonback for sure but if you were willing?” Gerion Lannister asked. Haedryn caught a flash of a smirk on the Great Lions face before it was harshly pulled behind an impressive court mask. Gerion however in direct contrast to his older brother was much more open faced and his request was most certainly genuine.
Gerion was a handsome man and likely knew it, hundreds of years of high breeding having gone into the Lannister line much like the Black Line of his homeworld. Dark golden blond hair cropped closer on the sides with a bit of length on the top reaching down into well groomed mutton chops and a mustache. Surprisingly they didn’t also lead into a full beard, instead his chin was shaved nearly completely clean with just a small soul patch. It was a look that Haedryn had never seen to look good on any other but somehow the nearly thirty name day old man pulled it off.
“I would gladly join you,” Haedryn answered genuinely. “Me and my people were looking to book passage on a ship three days ago before word of your party’s arrival and that ship has already left port. It would take perhaps an hour mayhaps two to have everything repacked.”
“We leave port shortly after dawn, come the tide on the morrow,” Lord Arryn was the one to speak. “To make for Tyrosh, as the last port before King’s Landing, gods willing.”
“I will have my people pack up my things tonight and seek the hospitality of Magister Stallen one last time to ensure there is little chance to be late,” Haedryn answered giving a gentle nod towards Jon Arryn.
_______
Traveling by ship was a new experience, one that Haedryn was not keen to repeat. Even with a fortifying calming draught and a stomach soother his stomach still wobbled with the ship on the waves. He thought that flying, both on a broom and on Terrax would make it easier to get sea legs but no, it was clear that Haedryn was meant for the skies and not the sea. He was proud of himself for not vomiting, even if that was due mostly to drugging himself to the gills with potions. Despite this Haedryn still did his best to answer as many questions that Lord Gerion Lannister could throw at him. Questions about magic, about his religion, his family lines and any family he had left behind. While Haedryn remained as vague as possible without outright refusing to answer he did tell the younger Lannister Lord some details about his homeworld; without referring to it as his homeworld; and how he was amongst one of the last people in the world who could claim direct lineage from one of the original forty Dragonlords of Valyria and how even in his home he was the last dragon rider.
“Lord Belaerys,” Gerion called as he approached where Haedryn stood against the ship rail looking at the islands, the Stepstones as they were called as they slowly passed through the pirate infested isle chain. Terrax flew above the entire shipping convoy warning off any pirate who might think to approach, though the five ship convoy was fairly intimidating in its own right. One of the former Targaryen fleet ships, one of the few that the newly crowned family was able to recover, was a massive galley with two stories of oars though whilst they sailed the more open seas it was the masts and sails that kept it moving. The ship was quite clearly newly restored or at the very least lightly refurbished. Very little barnacles had made their home on the hull and the sails were a vivid yellow gold yet untouched by the true weathering of the sea. Emblazoned in gold enamel paint across the stern and the starboard side was the words King Robert’s Hammer in gold. It was the Royal Fleet’s new flagship.
The Laughing Lion, Gerion Lannister’s personal ship which Haedryn rode was a carrack. Still quite large for a medieval ship in Haedryn’s opinion it was certainly dwarfed by King Robert’s Hammer and The Sea’s Roar which was the Lannister Fleet’s flagship and a massive galley in its own right, only a little smaller than the Royal Fleet’s prize ship. The two other ships one of which was another galley much smaller than the other two and a member of the Lannister fleet, while the other was a large carrack were named the Lion’s Pride and the Crowned Stag respectively.
“And here I thought we had become friendly enough to dispense formality,” Haedryn asked quietly, turning his head to look at the older man as he moved to lean against the rail beside him. Gerion gave him a wry smirk.
“I wonder what my brother will have to say about that?” the lion Lord mused. “Nonetheless, we will be docking in Tyrosh before the day’s end and I.” The man cut himself off, turning away from Haedryn to look out across the sea to the island in the distance.
“Gerion, surely whatever it is is not as difficult to verbalize as you’re making it seem?” Haedryn asked, twisting his entire body to face the other man.
“You said that Valyria,” Gerion began looking up towards the sky where Terrax could just barely be seen flying high enough that he seemed no larger than a raptor or equally big bird. “That the very air around the isles is poisonous. That you used magic to survive it. Is there a way for someone who doesn’t have magic to survive? Something like Lord Royce’s armor? Enchanted like you said?”
“The poisonous air was probably the least dangerous part about the islands Gerion,” Haedryn answered honestly. “Hell the heat alone, for anyone who didn’t have the resistance to fire both me and Terrax, you’d certainly never reach the central islands if you were to try, not to mention that the lava still pours across the surface and even below the seas. Ships would catch fire within the water within it. The outer islands are cooler yes but the poison still presses the air, and beasts that have adapted to live there are deadly. I had history there. Ancestry. What possible reason could you have to even think of going knowing the risks you know?”
“Do you know anything about House Lannister’s history?” Gerion asked in an angry voice. The Lord turned to face Haedryn his face usually jovial as angry as his voice.
“I suppose I don’t. I only learned about House Targaryen when I knew they still remained due to relations, and a scant small history of a few other Houses due to a personal matter. I briefly skimmed over the Houses of Westeros and beyond your brother being Hand and free of the more recent events of your House concerning the new royal family I know nothing. I misspoke. I apologize,” Haedryn answered softly, disliking the other man’s uncharacteristic anger directed towards him.
The anger seemed to dissipate from the man suddenly in the face of Haedryn’s apology. It truly wasn’t a natural state for the man to be angry.
“I asked because of House Lannister’s admittedly brief history with Old Valyria. May I tell you the story of King Tommen II Lannister,” Gerion began.