A Song of Weiss and Fire (RWBY/Game of Thrones)

1-4

The Lion’s Claws was impressive, with its red hull and double decks that would allow for two hundred oarsmen to man it. It was far from the largest ship in the Seven Kingdoms, that galley belonged to the Hightowers with the Honor Of Oldtown, which was rumored to have four decks and had twice as many oarsmen as the Lion’s Claws. Still, even half the size of the Honor Of Oldtown, the Lion’s Claw would still be the finest war galley in the Sunset Sea, ready and able to smash any raiders and deter any pirates and Ironborn from attacking Lannister tradeships.

“Lord Tywin will be pleased.” Dramen said evenly, running a delicate hand on one of the railings, admiring the craftsmanship put into it. His green eyes remained focused on the scorpions and catapult that could easily send any enemies of the Lannisters to one of the seven hells.

“She’s a fine ship, my Lord.” Ser Royce Lanny, the new captain of the latest addition to the Lannisport fleet, boasted. He’d have command of Lord Tywin’s flagship until another was chosen by their liege lord. A veteran of the seas, Ser Royce was one of the most loyal and dedicated sailors in service to Lord Tywin. He was wearing a shirt of heavy chain over boiled leather, his half-helm in his arms.

“The finest this side of Westeros, Lord Lannister.” Lysonos bragged. “The Lion’s Claws is the fastest ship in the Sunset Sea, being able to outpace even the fastest longboat.” It was a bit of a brag, but not too big of one. Speed was crucial, yes, but it alone did not win battles.

Their assurances and boasts meant nothing if Lord Tywin was not pleased. At the very least, the Lion’s Claws was a beautiful ship, from the figurehead of a roaring lion, down to the smallest details in the captain’s cabin with the decorations on the wall, lions made out of gold. Dramen drummed his fingers against the railing, pressing his lips together in thought for a few seconds before deciding to speak. “Ser Larys.”

“Yes, my Lord?” His trusted knight took a step forward, his cloak tossing and turning from the sea wind.

“I charge you with delivering the final payment to the Harbormaster, once we return to the Gold Keep.” A Lannister always paid their debts, and Lysonos did some fine work. Plus, best to keep him working for them, and not say, the Tyrells or Dragonstone. Lord Stannis had taken most of the best shipbuilders in Westeros to build his Royal Fleet.

“As you command, my Lord.” Ser Larys bowed his head before taking a few steps back. He was a good man, trustworthy, competent and skilled with a sword.

Dramen extended his arm in the direction of the fat Tyroshi, the smell from his expensive perfume mixing with the salt-air. It was a horrid combination. “I hope to conduct more business with you in the future, Master Lysonos.”

“Of course, my Lord!” Lysonos grabbed his hand with both of his own, his skin soft without a single callous, fleshy and large. “House Lannister’s fleet shall be made out of the finest galleys and cogs!” They better be, Lord Tywin and Dramen were spending a fortune on just hiring shipwrights. And Dramen had no doubt that the Tyroshi would remain loyal as long as he filled his pocket with coins, and the promise of a potential lordship.

Not that Lord Tywin would ever raise an Essoi to lordship like his father Tytos before him, but the existence of House Spicer brought many merchants from the Free Cities, all who hoped to catch the eye of the Old Lion. All that did was enrich Dramen’s own pockets.

“Good.” Dramen’s smirk was well hidden beneath his neatly trimmed beard. He released his grip on the Tyroshi's hand. “I shall send Lord Tywin your regards.”

“Wonderful! Now I have a nice bottle of Arbor Red sitting in my office. I would be honored if I would be able to serve you a drink, my Lord.” Lysonos’ smile extended to his red cheeks, hidden by his colorful beard.