Ch.83

When I healed a few weeks after the explosion of my bike, a man named Brandon Stark the Builder or so he said people called him, told me magic brought me here. I told him a demon sent me here because I tried to kill it and the gods it worked for. He said men can't kill gods and I grunted. "Mankind can do anything they set their minds to. They have unlimited potential and are capable of the greatest beauty or the worst destruction. Without man worshipping them, the gods are little more than nature spirits. It's the power we give them that makes them so powerful."

He was surprised by my words while telling me he'd built the wall to prevent the white walkers from coming south if they should ever learn how. I stayed a few weeks, made swords and weapons for myself before trading a collapsible sword made of Valyrian steel as he called it. He'd supplied the Valyrian metal and I'd made him two swords, one collapsible and one not from it while making me one. I went south towards what would later be known as Dorne, gathering the First Men who followed strength and beating them into stronger shape. Ten thousand men and women in all worked to build the first true city of Dorne and Westeros.

It was magnificent no doubt, carved with the magic I was able to pour from my ring and shaped by my will. It was built within a day from stone, sand and glass. The waters were purified and a massive oasis was built in the desert around the city, in it and all. Fruit trees and other useful seeds were planted and wood was gathered to build trading ships.

The territory of Dorne was cut off from the rest by a massive crystal wall at the boarders and nearly impenetrable. I stopped aging as time went on and looked quite young as I became king of Dorne. My people flourished, adapted and over seven thousand years passed before the warrior queen Nymeria came and married one of my vassal lords, Lord Mors Martell. By then I was known as the benevolent ancient immortal king of Dorne.

Ships and ports had made Dorne a trading hub long before the other kingdoms had come to pass and I'd put down many hostile takeovers ever since I'd built Sunspear, the hanging garden oasis in Dorne. Dorne was covered in such places and crystal pillar markers showed the way to each city. Glass, from cups to pitchers and figurines for the rich were a massive seller alongside the alcohol, fish, fruits, boats and weapons Dorne was famed for as exports.

Hell, even the warriors I trained were skilled enough that I rented them as armies to those looking to fight. They and their families were well compensated for it and it made them decently wealthy. Sure the Andals had come and tried conquering, but beyond their alphabet, their lives were the only thing the Dornes cared to take. In Dorne both men and women were treated as equals, rich or poor there was laws against discrimination.

Five hundred years later I traded gold and ships to Aenar Targaryen for seven dragon eggs and enough Valyrian steel and dragon glass to outfit my whole army in armor and weapons. All the cities and towns of Dorne were outfitted with anti-dragon ballista while repeater crossbows and weapons fitting that era were made. Massive iron bolts were fitted to the ballistas and cleaned over time, replaced and maintained as needed, awaiting the day they'd be used.

Nearly two hundred years later they were used and severely wounded two of Aegon Targaryen's dragons while gorilla warfare tactics prevented his armies from reaching our cities, forcing them to retreat. The Martells had a knack for war and were the first amongst vassals, several times having assholes that tried to kill me. Some even succeeded but were thwarted when I killed them for it and the rest submitted once more.

It was a game really and not one many of my vassals were willing to play with an unkillable king. I took no lovers nor whores even while I reigned, working through my issues long ago, but then I didn't want a bastard or descendant to come at me and try to take the throne. Aegon returned a few years later trying to take Dorne once more only I killed one of his dragons, Meraxes, with a scorpion bolt as the men called the iron ballistas.

Aegon went on a rampage until his armies bled out and his last two dragons were severely wounded. He retreated while my people remained unharmed. The cities walls had held unharmed by even dragon fire so the people had been quite happy. Nearly two hundred years of fighting in and out with the six kingdoms ended with the newest Martell taking the Targaryen wife offered to me by the king of the six kingdoms.

I told the boy king that I'd choose my own women and not have her gift wrapped to me as a sign of peace. I told him Dorne would join his kingdoms on the condition that my people and their ways be left alone and should they be in danger, the other kingdoms come to their aid. He kept a level head until his dragon burned me alive.

To his surprise, my ashes were enough to rapidly regenerate right there before his and the lords eyes. I grunted as my hair grew back and told the dragon king. "Boy, I'm immortal, unkillable and older than Valyria itself. Try that again and you will be dead alongside your pet lizard who I'll be cooking and eating while my men pass your women around."

I took the robes the latest Martell offered and sat on my crystal throne, tapping my finger on the arm rest. "So, take my offer or leave so we can resume killing your and your men cause really, I've got nothing better to do and the people of Dorne love a good bloody fight."

My men chuckled and the Targaryen brat agreed, telling me Dorne's traditions and people wouldn't be harmed, nor would they be infringed upon so long as I bend the knee. I grunted. "I'm not the one you should be talking to them boy, I'm just the messenger. Do you see a crown on my head?"

He was surprised before turning to the Martell boy who wore the crown. He told the Targaryen brat. "Our lord, the immortal king Oz Romanoff, has deemed it time for him to step down as king of Dorne and deemed me worthy of being his successor."

I grunted. "The last part only matters when your throne is done boy."

I stood up and shed my robes, now clothes underneath in leathers. I strapped my collapsible swords to my wrists and my long sword to my back. Throwing stars, kunai a crossbow with bolts were on my front belt, over my shoulder and two tomahawks at my hip pretty much made me an intimidating presence.

I tossed the robe to the side and sat back down lazily while telling them. "It is tradition for the king of Dorne to sculpt a chair of crystal from the caverns below that show the truth of whom they are to their people. The crystal doesn't lie and it will teach them how, but they cannot deviate or the crystal shatters and they are not worthy of the throne."

I turned to the lords. "It doesn't matter whom the king is, what kind of king he is or even if he's a good man. So long as the king doesn't lie to himself or his subjects, even the cruelest bastard can be king."

I turned to the king of the seven kingdoms. "Food for thought, boy king."

I stood up and turned to the throne that'd been my companion for the last eight thousand plus years. With a mighty kick, it shattered into shards and I picked up the crown of crystal within. I tossed it to the Martell boy. "Each crown has its uses as each chair does. The crown you wear is that of the crowned prince. Only when you've completed your throne and presented it for all to see can you wear that crown lest it constrict your head and shatter your skull like I shattered my throne."

I turned to the Targaryen boy and mocked. "Feel free to try it on would be king of me, but know it will not be so gentle with those not of Dornish lands or blood."

The Targaryen boy betrothed his daughter to the Martell boy so I gave them a dragon egg, telling them where it came from, before the fall of Valyria. The rest I sold for a fuck ton of gold coin to the Targaryen brat. With that I put on a cloak and left Dorne on horseback, swearing to not set foot in Dorne until it's lands are free from Targaryen control.