Unexpected news

13th day of 5th Moon, 259AC

Dorne, Yronwood castle

Doran strolled the halls of Yronwood Castle seemingly carefree, with an easy smile on his face. From time to time he would stop for a few moments to admire a painting or an armor.

After an hour of walking he stopped in front of a window and scratched his chin thoughtfully, he looked around with an expression of "Eh? Where am I?", seeing some guards at the end of the corridor, his face lit up and he walked to them.

Seeing him coming, the guards turn to him and bow stiffly.

"Excuse me, good men." He greets them happily. "Looks like I got lost." he 'admits' with an embarrassed smile and a light laugh.

The guards visibly relax and smile.

"Don't worry, my prince. I also got lost many times before knowing the castle." One of the guards laughs.

"It's a good thing I'm not the only one, then." Dorian jokes. "Could you tell me which part of the castle I am in?"

"Of course, my prince. We are on the south side of the fourth floor."

"That doesn't tell me much," Laughs Doran.

"Lord Yronwood's chambers are just down the hall, and Lord Edgar's chambers are on the floor below. Your chambers are on that same floor, on the other side of the castle." One of the guards explains.

"Ah! I went up the stairs on the other side of the castle, I was sure I had gone up 5 floors." The prince tells them.

"I understand your confusion, my prince. There is a slight unevenness on that side, a Lord Yronwood had the land leveled a few generations ago but by then the castle had been built for a long time."

"So if I go 5 floors up the north side stairs I get to the 4th floor." Doran realized.

"Exact!"

"Good to know." Doran's eyes 'light up' remembering something. "You said Lord Yronwood's quarters are nearby, right? Would you mind guiding me there."

The guards' expressions change from friendly to nervous, so Doran hastens to add.

"Lord Edgar told me about Lord Yon's state of health, I would like to visit him"

The guards look more understanding and nod their heads.

As they walk towards the chambers of Lord Yon, Doran hides his smirk.

`Success! What was that coveted acting award on Earth, the one with the name of some man. Oscar! Yes, they should give me one of those- Acting, music and other arts competitions, yes. Creating something like that would be beneficial, it would attract a lot of public, ergo more tourism ergo more coins. It would also be a great incentive for artists to strive for continuous improvement-` The prince's train of thought is interrupted as he arrives in front of the door of the chambers of Lord Yon.

In front there are two guards standing guard, the guards who accompanied Doran talk to them and Doran has to use his charm again to be allowed to enter.

One of the guards enters to warn Lord Yon, and after a few minutes Doran is allowed to enter.

Doran notices how ostentatious the decorations are in the room, filled with overpriced decorations, and priceless antiques.

The prince looks for a long moment at an urn with runes of the First Men, because of the craftsmanship (which is the same of some objects he found in the First Men vault) he recognizes it as a Prior of the Long Night ornament. The urn sits inside a recess within the wall, with a steel grate blocking access to it.

"That urn is the greatest treasure of our house." Says an old man in his sixties, with long gray hair and a long but well-groomed beard.

Yon Yronwood is not particularly tall, but is a well built man. Even at his advanced age he still retains much of his musculature and it is obvious that he would be a formidable opponent on the battlefield.

`He doesn't even look sick`

Lord Yon appears as healthy as an oak tree, except for the dark circles under his eyes and a slight paleness as he appears ready to don his armor and go into battle.

"Those are First Men runes." Doran comments.

"I'm surprised you recognize them, my prince. Not many would."

"During my years in the Citadel I briefly studied the subject." And by briefly he means that he mastered a dead language (in this part of the world) in less than a year.

"Ah, yes. I have heard many things about your years in the Citadel. Maester Thalmor only had praises for you every time your name was mentioned. A true tragedy that he passed away so young." There is not a hint of sincerity in his words.

Doran knows that Thalmor's death was not an accident, Yon killed him suspecting that he is a Martell spy or at least a Martell supporter. The prince suppresses his amusement, as Thalmor was just one of his most enthusiastic teachers. He wasn't a spy, just a man who greatly admired his intellect.

`I would feel bad for his death if I didn't know what kind of man he was` Thalmor was the fifth son of a knight, so he could be considered a noble, which he didn't let anyone forget. He despised anyone of low birth and constantly antagonized them, his treatment of his commoners students was awful (Snape seemed a good teacher in comparison).

Doran is sure that most of the students celebrated when he was finally assigned as the Maester of Yronwood Castle.

"I remember him very well, he was a good man." Blatantly lies Doran. "His death was a tragedy."

"Yes, indeed." Lord Yon clears his throat and points to the sofa in front of the fireplace. "Let's sit down, I'm afraid that spending more time standing is taking a toll on me."

"Of course, my lord." Doran follows him and sits on the couch next to him. "Your son told me about your illness. I prayed to the Crone and the Father for your speedy recovery."

"I thank you, my prince."

The two spend an hour conversing about various topics, during which time Doran sends out several legilimency probes. The prince confirmed many of his suspicions, Lord Yon is not truly ill. This "disease" is an excuse to summon an "healer" from Essos after the maester "fails" to heal him. That "healer" is someone relevant to the Blackfyre, but Doran couldn't figure out who exactly he is.

The prince suspects that he is someone of high rank in the ranks of the Blackfyre. Before fully using his magic to unravel this mystery he wants to try a few more mundane methods. Especially since if this ends up in a trial against House Yronwood saying "I got this intel reading his mind"... Yeah, he needs proof, proof that can be used against House Yronwood.

***

Doran looked around and wondered briefly how he ended up in this situation.

`Oh yes. Ormond kept insisting that we should train together and I ended up agreeing just to shut him up.`

After the conversation he had with Yon, the prince spent the afternoon touring the town at the foot of the castle in the company of the twins. During this time Ormond Yronwood talked incessantly about his training as a squire and Doran promised to train with him the next day just to shut him up.

This is how Doran found himself in the middle of one of the castle courtyards in a circle with several knights and squires looking at him and Ormond. Both are clad in leather armor and blunt steel swords in their hands.

The two opponents circle each other looking for any weakness.

Doran was the first to move. Ormond barely had time to parry his sword blow. The prince pushed him back, each blow an aggressive attack as Doran wanted the older boy off balance ("The best defense is a good offense" Lothar told him many years ago).

Doran had never seen Ormond train before, but the way he's built it's obvious he prefers strength to speed, and 2 out of 3 knights who prefer strength to speed also prefer offense to defense. Ergo they are better at attacking than defending.

The prince thinks that if he overwhelms him with fast and ferocious attacks, Ormond will let his guard down long enough to disarm him.

The sound of steel on steel echoed through the courtyard as the boys clashed. Ormond sidestepped Doran's slash and brought his sword up in a vertical slash. The prince parried the blow with his sword, but the impact was so strong that Doran felt his arms shake.

He quickly took a few steps back and looked at his opponent. Ormond had a few beads of sweat on his face and his eyes were narrowed but bright. It is obvious that the young lord is enjoying the fight.

Doran can't help but feel the same way.

The prince inherited his father's talent in fencing and unfortunately there are few opponents in his age range who can keep up with him for long. To truly have to give it his all, Doran has to train with veteran knights. Lewyn, Lothar and Trystanne are his usual opponents when it comes to fencing matches. He also trains a lot with Arron and Obella, because although he is not that talented with a spear it is important that he gets used to fighting with different weapons.

As Ormond slightly stretches his wrist, Doran launches out a barrage of blows, which while they don't have much force behind them are so fast that they make the young lord dizzy. With his opponent thinking that his slashes won't hurt as much if they hit the armor, Doran starts the second step of his plan.

After a vertical blow he quickly swings his sword to Ormond's side, the tired squire thinking the blow will be light doesn't bother to block.

Unfortunately for him, Doran put all of his weight into that side blow and it hit him square in the ribs. Ormond let out a muffled cry of pain and dropped the sword. Doran quickly points his sword at his opponent's throat.

"Yield."

"I yield." Grunts Ormond.

Doran lowers his sword and helps Ormond to some benches.

"Are you alright?" He asks worriedly, his intention was to win not to break his opponent's ribs. `I let myself be carried away by the adrenaline of the moment...`

Doran helps Ormond remove his breastplate and to his relief his opponent only got a nasty bruise, his bones weren't broken.

What surprises Doran the most about the whole thing is that Ormond was not at all upset or angry with the result of the fight or with his injury. The young lord was all smiles and even laughed.

`He is very different from his father or grandfather.`

Doran spent the rest of the day in the training grounds with Ormond, after several rounds they moved on to training with other weapons. The prince learned of Ormond's trauma and agreed to skip the warhammer training. They even joke about it.

"Doran," Lothar calls him seriously. Is in the evening, they just had dinner and are in the prince`s chambers discussing their plans. Doran looks at his knight from the desk where he is sitting. "Be careful." Lothar warns him.

"Careful with what?" Doran looks at him confused.

"With the Yronwood boy."

"Huh? I've already checked, Ormond is harmless. He doesn't know anything about his father and grandfather's plans, he's an honest and friendly boy." Doran used legilimency to be sure.

"Exactly. The Yronwood are our enemies, we have already confirmed their treacherous plans. We just need proof to complete the mission."

"I know that, what is this about?" Doran gets up from his chair with a frown.

"You like Ormond, you even started to consider him a friend."

Doran freezes mid-step realizing for the first time that he considers Ormond a friend. Ormond is a simple boy, with clear tastes, he is honest and friendly. He is someone who is easy to talk to and make friends with. Doran didn't even realize how highly he thinks of the teen until Lothar spoke up.

Become friends with someone from an enemy house...

***

4th Moon 259AC

Naath, Astra

Sirius watched as his children training in the courtyard. Aquila prefers the use of two short swords, she is fast and deadly. Regulus is a talented archer and a skilled swordsman. Jamie... the youngest has yet to find his area of ​​expertise.

He is currently practicing his aim.

His arrow missed spectacularly, not even approaching the target.

"Nice shot Jamie! You hit the tree right in- Oh! Wait, that tree is on the other side of your target." Regulus scoffs.

"You-" Jamie lunges at his older brother and they both roll on the floor.

Aquila stops her spar against two guards and goes to stop her brothers. The two guards breathe a sigh of relief and quickly leave the training ground.

`I will join the rangers! I don't want to train with that beast again!`

Aquila is a calm and collected young woman, she can be found almost always with her nose in a book. But after an invasion that ended with the kidnapping of Regulus (Sirius managed to rescue his son before the pirate ship reached the Basilisk Islands) eight years ago the young bookworm became obsessed with power. The power to defend her family, she began to train every day. Her usual routine is considered inhumane by everyone, including her family. She is brutal and pushes herself constantly, pace that it would have ended up in some crippling wound if it wasn't for her magic.

Aquila, like her brothers, inherited a combination of her mother's and her father's magic. She has a natural talent when it comes to healing magic, that talent is such that her magic has healing properties itself, healing her when she is injured without her doing anything.

Daena told her that in the past her family was known for their healing abilities, being the best healers of the Valyrian Freehold. Unfortunately House Haerax fell into oblivion a long time ago since most of their assets were lost during the Doom. A young member of the family, the fifth grandson of the Lord, was in Naath on holiday during the tragedy. Jaeron Haerax was just 15 years old, and his dragon was in Valyria for treatment after injuring her wing during a sparring match. Alone, with hardly any coins to his name, the young valyrian was left in a changing world. Jaeron was not particularly intelligent or creative and spent what little gold he had in a short time, so his descendants were left with nothing but the memory of what they once were.

Daena was the last Haerax before the birth of her children. She led a small group of Naathi in defending the island, something frowned upon by most Naathi who despised violence.

After the arrival of Sirius, after a somewhat rocky encounter they ended up becoming allies and at Daena's suggestion the de-aged mage used his magic to create some phenomenons that were seen by the Naathi as acts of their god. Daena cleverly made the Naathi think that their god was telling them that they must defend themselves, that they must protect their own at all costs.

To completely change the Naathi religion and mentality, that was Daena's goal. Sirius was pretty much lost at that time, just getting used to being a teenager again (all the damage that Azkaban did to his body was gone, his lost years were returned to him) and to being in another world. There were a lot of tantrums, a lot of sulking before he accepted that he would never see his friends again.

In the end his only regret was not being able to be there for his godson.

The wizard just followed Daena like a lost puppy. Over the years he fell in love with this island and came to see it as his home, so protecting it became his desire (as much as his wife's).

The duo worked day and night, hardly resting, and their work paid off. After 2 decades the island had recovered part of the prosperity of yesteryear, and they had even started to trade with other islands!

"My king." The voice of one of the Heads of the Trade Department called out to him and Sirius averted his eyes from his kids. Aquila broke the fight between her brothers and now Regulus was teaching Jamie how to properly use the bow under her supervision.

"Malgor, what's up?"

Jaeon wasn't the only Valyrian to be trapped on Naath after the Doom, there were hundreds of them (mostly free citizens, and some minor houses nobles). Their descendants stayed on the island and to keep the Valyrian bloodline pure most of them married other Valyrians (there were exceptions). In the last few centuries that population grew to several thousand men and women, although apart from appearance and keeping some Valyrian customs and traditions they adapted to life on the island (most even changed to the local religion and became as pacifist as the Naathi).

"Some Westerosi ships have arrived."

"From Westeros, what do they want?" Since the one who is informing him of this is Malgor, Sirius has an idea but it seems strange to him. As far as he knows Westerosi ships seldom sail this far east.

"Trade with us." Malgor answers as if he were saying that the sky is blue or the sun is yellow.

Sirius stitches up and clears his throat.

"Yes, yes. Of what kingdom are they?"

"Dorne." Before Sirius can ask another question, Malgor adds. "The founder of this Trade Company is Prince Doran Martell from what I'm told."

"A merchant prince?" Sirius finds it amusing. "And what do these Dornishmen trade with?"

"They carry a wide variety of goods, from toys to potions."

"Potions and toys? This prince is most interesting! I want to meet them!"

"I will organize the meeting, we must also notify the queen."

"Yes, yes. Daena knows more about Westeros than I do. While you send someone to call her, tell me what you know about these men."

"As you wish, my king. They are called the Sun Trade Company, although this company is quite new from what I was told. I was told that the prince started his first Trade Company about half a decade ago selling toys, then he added other products and decided to create the Sun Trade Company as his main business, the other companies he had already created became sub-branches of it."

"What are the other companies called?" Sirius asked curiously.

"They have some weird names, Hogwarts Toy Company and Slytherin Apothecary"

Sirius choked on his own saliva.

"!!!"

***

NOTE: And that is why I choose those names for his businesses. If you haven't already guessed, Death's Veil is a portal between worlds (I know this has been used a lot and is a cliché, but not all clichés are bad)