The last dragon

Prologue.

In the media above is how I imagine the mc. Since she's intersexual her facial features are more pronounced but are softer than the man in the pic. This is how she would look with white hair but don't forget that she dyes it black.

~——————~

"Guards a thief! He robbed me!" Yelled in the distance an old farmer pointing his finger toward a young boy who was running as fast as he could.

The thin boy then bumped into a tall figure making him fall on the mudded street and scratch his elbow. The person whom he bumped into grabbed him by his coat making him stand up. Indigo eyes observed the piece of bread in the poor boy's hands.

The kid didn't say mutter a word and just watched the woman before him intently, in hopes of not hearing her voice yelling for the guards as he would get severely punished.

Screams of the sentry men were heard in the distance as they were asking the few merchants that were selling food and goods, about the boy. The tall woman covered him with her tall figure as she then turned around pushing him away from there.

"Go." Her strong voice whispered after seeing the thankful expression on the boy's dirty face.

He then took off running.

"Did you saw a little boy? Brown hair, shabby coat and dirty clothes with a piece of bread in his hands." A bulky guard asked trying to intimidate the woman even though she could easily behead him in front of everyone.

"I saw him going in that direction." Said the dangerous woman lying, her long finger pointed toward a large ramp of stairs that lead to the square market.

The guard glanced at her one last time before turning and sprinting away. She prayed that the boy would safely return to his home.

Without overly thinking of the encounter that she had. The black haired woman got back in her tracks and began walking to where her errands were calling her.

Since the blacksmith distance was not too much of a nuisance she headed there first.

Her fingers were dying to get a hold of her dagger.

~———~

"Is it done yet?" She asked the old man who was working, what she supposed, a sword.

The hard working man was covered in black dirt and had sweat running down his neck. The smell of iron and steel slightly burning the woman's nostrils.

"Yes." He responded before handing the family treasured dagger to the girl. It looked like it was forged a day prior and not centuries ago.

Daeron II's dagger. Her late grand-grandsir's dagger, his initials were deep carved in the handle as the beautiful dragon on the handle twinkled.

"May I ask what the initials stand for?" The greybearded blacksmith asked cautiously.

"It's a family relic, my late grandfather forged it in our homeland." The mysterious woman replied while handing him an extra payment for the good work.

The blade was shining in the plain sun as the cutting edge looked the same as a razor and seemed like it was meant to slash even the hardest surface. The point looked sharp and pointy as it could pierce the strongest metal.

"Thank you, kind Miss." The woman's ears heard him say before she marched toward the shop exit.

The cold wind stroke her face making her take a deep breath and look around. The peaceful town of Foratis was always working with its people keeping it alive.

The winter in Essos was cold, not a freezing cold like in The north of Westeros but it was still a cold one. Usually the snow would last a mere week before giving the reins to the sun who melted everything welcoming the spring.

The spring weather was warm while summer was fervent. The sea helped the people who couldn't suffer the hot weather and welcomed children who finally had the chance of having fun in the beautiful beaches.

With those thoughts in mind she headed home.

~—————~

"You've finally rewarded us with your presence." Said the man who took her in when her father died, with a scowl before walking in the girl's direction. "You act all grown up now huh? You should be thankful that I welcomed you in my house." His tone neutral but severe.

"I am thankful father." She replied not backing down but still lowering her head out of respect as he still was the man who gave her a comfortable life. But she would not let him control or punish her ever again.

When her child years finished, her body started to change. She grew taller and the training that she was put through since a fragile child gave its fruits. She didn't fear the man's anger no more as she did when she was only a kid.

"You better be. I will head out in a few, my turn will start soon." He glanced at the tall woman one last time before going into his personal apartments.

The bald man whom she previously referred to as 'father' is the commander of the city guards. He had found her when the Iron Bank ordered the murder of the girl's father, Aenys. The child's father had a huge debt with them and as many people may know the Iron Bank was not known for their patience. She was only 10 when Syrio had found the trembling child in a corner of the burning house. The house where she grew up in with her father.

It was a little house outside the city. The girl's childhood was peaceful and quiet as her father tried hard to hide them from danger in vain.

She could vividly remember to this day how he always told her stories and tales about her ancestors and how great they were. From Aegon's conquest to the dance of the dragons and the slow fall of her house.

Aenys homeschooled and tutored her for the better, he transferred every thought and information to her not minding how much a child's mind could take and transformed his child into an extremely intelligent individual. She's the person that she is today thanks to her father.

But Syrio was of good importance too as he disciplined and trained her, not as a daughter, not as a son...but as a soldier.

And in a twisted way she was grateful to him.