The Lord of the Tides
The ancient seat of House Velaryon approached in the distance, covered by the morning mist of a common spring day in the Narrow Sea. The Maiden's Kiss darted through the waves like a lightning carved its way through the clouds. They had found passage in Duskendale from a merchant who would be sailing perfumes to Sunspear. The times of peace are truly a blessing. I wonder what my father would think of this. A Dornish on the Iron Throne. The captain, a man named Gallendore, would stop at Driftmark to buy the necessary supplies for the voyage. "There are only robbers in the Duskendale markets. They charge thrice as much!" he would keep on repeating on and on, as if his guests who had indeed paid thrice the price for the passage were interested in his mad mumblings.
The captain docked at the large island and they were thus forced to disembark in the small town of Hull, under the hegemony of Ser Corlys Hull, a minor landed knight sworn to Driftmark. His holdfast, if one could call it that, was made out of uncut stone in its base and dark wood for its three stories. Atop of it flew the silver sea horse of the Velaryons and Ser Corlys' own sigil, a pale grey dragon on dark. Seasmoke. He dares to use Ser Addam the Glorious to glorify his own house. He felt his blood boil; some had called it waking the dragon, but he could not be sure. The wolf's blood, they called it in the North. In the end, he decided it did not matter; he would steer clear of Ser Corlys' holdfast and ride to the Driftkeep as soon as possible.
So this is where my father was born. He had been there as a child with Lord Alyn once, but could remember only the huge statue of Addam Velaryon riding Seasmoke into battle. As it turned out, he realized the dragon was no bigger than a hound and the salty sea had eroded much of Ser Addam's features. Addam had just been a child, a brave child aye, but only a child.
"Your uncle?" Harlen Hayford questioned, walking and standing by him, admiring the artwork.
"Aye," he merely answered, still lost in his thoughts. Ser Addam had been the bastard son of Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Seasnake, and would ride his half-brother's Laenor's mount in the Dance of Dragons. Treachery and deceit and glory followed, and the singers will never forget.
"I figured your father would be here as well," Hayford commented absent-mindedly. "He was a great warrior."
"But not a dragonrider," he replied. Alyn of Hull had been born from the same mother as Ser Addam Velaryon, also the bastard son of Lord Corlys. He would eventually be legitimized and rose to become the Master of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides. A lord, a father, an admiral, a Hand and finally a lover. They called him Alyn Oakenfist, the vanquisher of Plankytown. Even though he had a wife, Lord Oakenfist loved his niece the Princess Elaena and she loved him back, giving him two children of his own, Jeyne and Jon Waters. Jon Targaryen, he reminded himself. Lord Hayford had arranged his legitimization by the word of the High Septon as a trueborn Targaryen. Velaryon would have suited me much better, but the game of thrones works in strange ways.
Ser Jon looked back at his company. They had brought horses with them all the way from Hayford, and a wagon too. He looked and spotted his sister Jeyne, then his half-sister Lady Elaena Velaryon, Ser Harlen's wife. She was surrounded by her four purple eyed and brown headed children, two boys and two girls. The eldest, Barristan, had begged Lord Hayford to allow him to join their march fo Prince Maekar's host, but his grandfather would hear none of it. It wouldn't do to have two Barristan Hayfords in the same host. The last man looked out of place among the family. He wasn't wearing any white, his kingsguard armour concealed in a chest in the wagon. Together with the hand's seal, the Hayfords' gears and my Targaryen banner.
The plan was simple and Jon was confident. Lady Velaryon might have hated him as a child, but she was long dead by now and Lord Addam the Younger ruled in Driftmark, although he was already approaching his fifth decade. He's a kind and honourable man, raised by our father to be so, he wouldn't turn down his family. Once the Hayfords had been safely lodged in the castle, he and Ser Preston would depart for Dragonstone, carrying the "hand's" command and his own authority as a Targaryen prince to rally the garrison and depart to meet Lord Sumner, Prince Maekar and King Matarys on Cracklaw Point. I might be dragonseed, but I am the blood of the dragon, trueborn son of Alyn Oakenfist and Elaena Targaryen, grandson of King Aegon the Third. And the true heir to the throne. They will listen to me, the hand's seal and to my own whitecloak.
The party rode on to the remnants of Old Spicetown, which rested by the castle's shadow, changed into their clothes and, with the blue-and-silver Targaryen banner flying in the wind, rode on to Driftmark.
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by jacb547
