Chapter 2: Windproud
WINDPROUD
277 AC
Free Cities – Lys
Shiera woke to the sound of her maid and companion. Melisya, clearing out her room. She had gone through the entire room, top to bottom. Draws were left open and empty, even meagre objects like flower vases and bowls that Shiera had decorated her room with were gone.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and drew the heavy sheets over her head. "I wake from dreams to a nightmare!" She groaned, letting out a frustrated sigh.
Melisya smiled at the girl and shook her head. "Please be grateful, you're marrying a Prince! The Prince of the Seven Kingdoms no less." Melisya reminded her.
Shiera drew the sheets from her head and looked at Melisya's silver chain, biting her lip as she cursed herself for complaining around a slave no less. "You're right, at least Drazenko won't be around to-,"
"To what?" The dreaded voice of her older brother came from the open door. Melisya stopped her movements and bowed her head. He entered the room, closed the oak door behind him and circled around the young slave. "Considering your current state of unwillingness, I enlisted Melisya to pack for you and she's done a wonderful job."
Shiera glared at his back, wondering just what he had done with or worse yet to her maid. "I'll change and meet you outside." She said, wanting him out of her room.
Drazenko rolled his eyes, nearing the slave that had turned to stone at his entrance. "I don't care what you do, as long as you make it to Valaar's ship by the time it's sailing." He said, giving his sister a careless look. He pulled one single silver key from under his sleeve. "For my best girl," he smiled wickedly and turned Melisya around forcefully. "Take care of the pleasure house for me. I think we both know the consequences of failure," Drazenko whispered to her, placing the key in the chain around her neck and unlocking it, it fell to the floor with a loud clank.
Melisya sighed a sigh of relief, rubbing her neck, she nodded her head profusely. "Of course, master."
Drazenko gave her a pointed look and kicked the chain to the side. "You're free now, just like the others in the house. Congratulations."
Shiera scoffed from her bed silently and got off of it, moving quickly to the washroom. "Congratulations," her voice mimicking her brothers. "Using free slaves, oh brother you are smart indeed," she muttered washing her face quickly. She waited to hear the door of her room close, indicating her brother's departure, before she went back to the main bedroom. For what she knew was to be the last time, Melisya helped her get ready. Sliding the dress over her head, brushing her hair, and helping Shiera tie her complicated boots around her feet. She was going on a ship, it would be stupid to wear anything but boots.
As they exited the villa for what was to be the last time for Shiera, she couldn't help but feel empty. She had no real memories inside the large residence, and the family had rented many of its rooms to travelers to make most of their money. The only thing she would miss about the Villa would be Melisya, her one, and only friend.
Melisya gave her a hug, acceptable now that her chains were freed. "I hope life treats you well," she smiled sweetly, holding onto Shiera's small shoulders.
Shiera smiled, feeling heat move to her nose and her eyes well up. "You too."
Melisya rolled her eyes. "You are to marry a Prince! I think we know who the Goddess gave her kisses to."
Shiera rolled her eyes, "if it is places you want to trade, I beg you let us."
Melisya, with her dark hair and stark blue eyes scoffed. "We'll wait until I am eight and ten with grey hair and pray my eyes suddenly differ in colour, right?"
Shiera nodded her head eagerly. "Perfect!" She exclaimed. Their bittersweet farewell was cut short by Shiera's other older brother, Valaar, clearing his throat.
"My men are growing restless, the sun stays up for half the day you know?" He joked. Shiera looked up at her brother playfully and shook her head, indicating her clothing trunk, and he lifted it up with ease and led the way to the docks. Drazenko in all his excellence had arranged for most things to be taken to the ship. With one last look and wave to Melisya, Shiera followed him. "I can't believe they're making you do this," Valaar whispered, careful not to talk too loudly.
Shiera shook her head. "You'll be there with me, every step of the way."
"Unfortunately."
"Lar," Shiera said, stopping in her tracks behind him. "How bad can this Prince possibly be?" She asked him. She had pondered the idea for a while, and couldn't really complain. Her other option was to wait for another suitor to come along, which she knew the chances were slim, or marry her brother, and it wouldn't be Valaar. Her sweet Valaar stood no chance against Drazenko when it came to competition.
Valaar ignored her statement and kept walking, quickening his pace. "Shut up," he warned.
"I mean, he's going to be the King of Seven Kingdoms! That's better than the head of a bank or – no offense – a sailor," Shiera honestly blurted. In fact, she was growing giddy at the fact that she was going to meet a whole Prince.
Valaar turned to glare at his sister, the trunk slipping from his right hand and leaving a painful bloodless scratch on his palm. He held his tongue, not wanting to lash out in a state of anger. "Is your main objective to torture me?"
Shiera slowed down her walking to be a few paces behind Valaar. "No," she muttered. The smell of the sea, sweat, and wine drifted to her nose and she held her hand over it. "Oh gods," Shiera exclaimed, keeping herself from gagging. How the hell will I manage half a moon?
She followed her brother as he led her to a large ship, with her families sigil, Truth, the families Valyrian Steel which was once carried by Moredo Rogare, in front of a golden background. A ship next to theirs had the sigil of a black stag on a bright yellow background.
"Our one is called Goddess of the Seas, theirs," Valaar said, pointing, "is called Windproud." He scoffed.
Shiera rolled her eyes, following him to the steps of their ship. "It's not a competition Valaar. Just get us their alive and I will kiss your feet." She exaggerated, watching as he dropped her trunk with a grunt on the floor.
"Don't be dramatic, I've sailed this beauty half my life and she is yet to fail me." Shiera frowned, looking around the ship. Apart from a few crewmen, they were completely alone. "Mother is below deck, resting. You should go an join her before we leave. It's hard for first timers."
Shiera nodded her head, not wanting to object against the master of sailing himself. "See you later," she said, following his finger to the stairs that led below deck, dragging her trunk behind her.
...
They had been sailing for almost two sennights, Shiera and her mother had refused to go above deck as soon as the anchors were lifted from the ground and the ship began to move. Valaar laughed at their distress, watching as they lay on their beds, lifeless almost. He was glad Drazenko had been kept preoccupied, filling out endless papers that the Lord Baratheon had given him, choosing to take siege of Valaar's office. He did not mind though, well not that he really could mind.
Valaar watched the water under him, it was his first time sailing to the Seven Kingdoms, so he was following the lead of the Windproud, a ship much larger and...prouder... than their own. Perhaps that was why his father had chosen to sail with the Baratheon's than with them. His ear twitched as the screams of his sister were heard.
"Stop it! Those are mine! Please stop it!" She repeated, clinging onto her eldest brothers arms as he flung trunk by trunk overboard.
Drazenko pushed her off him, hauling up the last of her belongings and throwing it over the wooden barrier into the deep blue sea. It sunk to the bottom before Valaar could even blink twice. "You wish to embarrass us by wearing clothes of a poor man's coin!?" Drazenko yelled at his sister, glowering down at her small body.
"Would you have me wear the same dress then? To smell of salt and vomit and piss?" She asked him, boldly at that.
Their mother quickly clambered up the stairs and stood between her two children. "What's the matter?" She asked her son, her red eyes questioning his own.
"I've seen whores dressed better you," he sneered, ignoring his mother altogether.
Valaar, unable to take his brothers childish behaviour quickly pulled his sister away. He had suffered one too many blows to the face and knew better than to stand up to him. "Come, I'm sure mother has something you can wear. Leave it now."
Shiera sobbed, holding her hand over her mouth as she did so, and Valaar watched as his crew looked as their leader shamefully. He gave them all pointed looks. "M-my stuff Valaar! You didn't even tell him off!" She exclaimed, pushing him off her.
Valaar knew that she meant no harm by those words, he had tried many times to simply tell off his brother but that usually earnt him a sennights worth of sight through one eye. He closed the door behind him and hugged her. "They are just clothes Shiera, more can be commissioned," he told her, hushing her cries by stroking her hair.
"Valaar," she whispered, "I will be presented to the Prince looking a fool."
He did not know how to respond, instead chose to sit her down on the straw bed. He sat down next to her and held her hand as she cried softly, mumbling incoherent sentences to herself as she did so. And as he did, he could not help but savour the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice or the feel of her touch.
If it's to be my last time with the woman who has my heart, then let it be a sweet time. Valaar thought to himself, closing his eyes and relishing at the moment.
Stormlands – Shipbreaker Bay
Shiera was woken violently, she had been flung from her uncomfortable bed onto the more uncomfortable floor. She looked up to the dingy window and to the full moon if her time keeping was right, they had now been traveling for a little over a moon. She pushed herself from the floor only to be pushed back down again. Her mother, whose bed was right next to hers, was nowhere to be seen. Shiera, who now feared the circumstances, hearing the loud crashes of waves outside, swung the door to her room open, held herself up by the walls and climbed up the stairs.
What she next sent shivers down her spine, that and the freezing cold water falling from the skies onto her shivering body. Her brother and his men were working in complete darkness, screaming orders at one another, sliding from here to there and covering their hands. Shiera followed after them, the ship came to a standstill and a beastly amount of water came down on them.
"What are you doing here?" Valaar yelled at her, his white hair thin and matted, sticking to his pale face.
Shiera couldn't find the words to answer him, so she avoided the question. "What's happening?"
Valaar squinted his eyes to look in front of them. "They led us into a storm, the idiots. We turned mine around and we're leaving."
"Back home!?"
"The bay," Valaar responded, giving her a pointed look. "Until the storm calms down, now get back inside."
"But I-," her words were cut off by a loud crash and screams of all sorts. It wasn't coming from theirs, so it must've been the Windproud. Valaar was right, they had fallen into the traps of a storm and the Westerosi great ship was sinking into the water below them. Father. Shiera thought to herself, watching in the distance as black figures jumped from the ship, some were tossed by the water. It had happened so quickly, one moment it was sinking and the next the sea had eaten it up, as if it had never been.
Her ears began to ring, the screams of her mother muted by either water or her mind shutting them out. She was quickly pushed back to her room and left alone with her crying mother, the only sounds audible were the calming waters lapping against the ship. It seemed like the sea had gotten what it wanted, for the rain had stopped and the loud crashes along with it.
Stormlands – Storms End
"Lord-..." The young, new Lord Paramount of the Stormlands was cut off from introductions.
Drazenko glared up at the boy, though Robert Baratheon was younger than him, he stood close to his height. "Where's my father's body?" He asked, watching was Robert looked his family up and down twice.
It was Alyse's turn to cut off her son. The boy had just lost both his parents, they were all mourning. "Thank you for welcoming us into your home Lord Robert, on such short notice."
Drazenko rolled his eyes at her lack of knowledge on Westerosi manners. "And so on and so on...show us the body."
Robert looked down at Drazenko, amazed at his coldness. Was this supposed man not his father, assuming by the sad looks etched on his mother and siblings faces. "It's in the crypts, we figured you'd want the body cleaned and-..."
Fuck this man was rude, Robert thought to himself, he was cut off again!
"He's dead, what possible reason would we want the body cleaned for?"
"Respect," it was Stannis Baratheon's turn to talk, angered by the disrespect that the foreigner showed his brother.
"I only respect those with a heartbeat," Drazenko snapped back, his red eyes boring into Stannis' own.
"And you're sure you have one?"
...
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