We Bleed Silver(GOT/ASOIAF Fanfic)

The dragon's flame was always the most persuasive weapon on the battlefield. Not a single ship of the Triarchy managed to escape; all were consumed by the fire, and the entire sea boiled under the dragon's scorching fury. Even the fleet of the Vaelarys had to quickly retreat from the area.

The dragon slowly descended. A three-hundred-oar warship could not bear the weight of the bronze dragon's rage. It lowered its neck, allowing Draezell to climb down from its head. Carefully undoing the straps of the saddle, Draezell slowly crawled over the dragon's thick, spiked neck, gently patting its head before leaping down from its skull. He landed steadily on the deck of the Blue Sea Serpent.

The battle had left the ship's deck in ruins, but it still remained mostly intact. Gonzo knelt on one knee, placing a hand over his chest. "Your Highness, I have fulfilled my duty. In this battle, Captain Miles and his grandson Samwell have both shown exceptional bravery. I humbly request that you grant them a reward."

Draezell glanced at Samwell, who had just rushed over from another ship, still not dressed, and at the nervous Miles Stone. Samwell was a tall, lean youth, appearing to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. His face was dotted with acne, and though not particularly muscular, his physique was defined, and his golden, short hair was neatly cut, indicating that with some grooming, he could be quite handsome.

Draezell smiled. "It is the tradition to reward those who perform well. Captain Miles, Samwell, I command you, as a Prince and head of house Vaelarys, to kneel before me."

Miles' eyes widened in surprise. Seeing that his grandson had not yet reacted, he hastily kicked Samwell's leg and pulled him down to kneel before Draezell.

"Captain Miles," Draezell continued, "you have fought valiantly for the Vaelarys family and distinguished yourself in this battle. If I'm not mistaken, Lord Corlys has already knighted you, correct?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Miles said, not daring to look up. "The Sea Serpent knighted me when I was nineteen, but he did not grant me land or a stipend."

"I grant you the surname 'Hermosa.' In Old Valyrian, it means 'seafaring ship.' Sir Miles Hermosa, do you accept the surname I bestow upon you?"

"It is my greatest honor, Your Highness." Miles' eyes welled with tears instantly.

A new surname not only meant they were truly joining the ranks of the nobility but, more importantly, it allowed them to establish a family line without the stain of being a bastard, no longer subjected to the scorn of mainstream noble society.

"Samwell of the Hermosa family," Draezell said, drawing Silverblood and gently placing the blade on the youth's right shoulder. Draezell was so careful, knowing that one wrong move and Silverblood could cut Samwell's skin.

"In the name of the warrior, I require you to be brave."

Samwell stared at Draezell in surprise, momentarily forgetting to bow his head.

Draezell smiled and moved the sword to his left shoulder.

"In the name of the Father, I require you to be just."

The sword returned to his right shoulder.

"In the name of the Mother, I require you to protect the weak and the innocent."

Silverblood lightly tapped the boy's left shoulder.

"In the name of the Maid, I require you to protect all women."

"In the name of the Smith, I require you to wield your sword against all enemies."

"In the name of the Crone, I require you to keep wisdom forever."

"In the name of the Stranger, I require you to bring death to the wicked and the enemy."

Seven strikes, the Seven Gods blessings.

"I knight you, Sir Samwell of House Hermosa. Your bravery has proven your worth. 'Battleaxe' Sam, the Dornish should tremble at the sound of your name."

Samwell stared dazedly as Draezell gracefully leaped back onto the lowering head of Vermithor, carefully climbing into the saddle again.

He didn't even notice the envious looks from others.

All that filled his mind was one thought: "Am I really a knight?"

It wasn't until the sound of "Battleaxe" Sam echoed in waves, eventually growing into a roar, that he was jolted back to reality. Then, he saw his grandfather, tears streaming down his face, and the excited expression of Gonzo Pyrebane.

"Congratulations, little Samwell. Once we return, go straight to Lord Lynn. He'll arrange for you to follow His Highness directly. Do well, I'm watching you, little Samwell."

---

At the same time, in Storm's End...

Lord Boremund Baratheon sat in his chair, a thick bear-skin blanket draped over his legs. His son, the hot-headed Borros Baratheon, paced in circles across the great hall.

"Borros, stop pacing. You'll make yourself dizzy."

"Father, that little prince, beating Dornishmen without calling on us. I admit his lands are royal fiefs, but they're within the Stormlands. He should at least have told us, right? Does he think the Baratheons are too cowardly to fight Dornishmen?"

"Foolish." Boremund glared at his son, frustration evident on his face. "If it's just Prince Draezell leading the Dondarrion and the other houses from the Borderlands in retaliation, we can explain it as revenge for House Wyl's aggression. But if the Baratheons march to war, it'll spark another Dornish War. The king won't allow that to happen."

"But it's already happening!" Borros stormed toward his father, shouting angrily. "The Dornish War has already begun. Dorne's in a civil war, the Yronwood's are fighting the Fowler, the Dayne's are staying put, while the Wyl, Toland, Uller, and Jordayne are marching north to clash with the little prince. Our men are already deep in the Dornish bitch's territory and holding their ground. Father, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for revenge! And we have two dragonriders on our side—this is even better than before!"

"It's precisely because we haven't intervened that House Martell has held back and kept things from spiraling out of control," Boremund said, his tone heavy with warning. "Once House Baratheon, the Lord of Storm's End, joins the fight, the Martells will have a reason to unite Dorne, and we'll be trapped in a conquest war."

"Nothing's allowed, nothing's possible... Fine, I'll go alone without the army!" Borros threw his hands up in frustration. "I'll bring my four daughters with me. Father, you can't stop me this time. At worst, I'll disguise myself as a mercenary knight—how could we fight Dorne without me?"

"You really think no one will recognize your face?" Boremund scoffed, his anger turning to disbelief. "The heir to Storm's End masquerading as a mercenary knight? Fool. And why are you bringing your daughters? Are you trying to get them into the beds of princes and lords? Have you lost your mind?"

"I haven't lost my mind," Borros retorted fiercely. "The princes and lords are still unmarried. Isn't House Baratheon a good match?"

Borros clenched his fists.

Dorne. Dragons.

He wanted them both.

He believed he could have them all.

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