Let the Gold flow

It was best to not stay too long in somewhat hostile territory. At least he believed that. His father had made waves, that much was for sure, and eventually the outcome of all of this would become apparent. For the moment though, it seemed prudent to lay somewhat low and prepare for their departure – father with his ships, Dalton on his own. It was best to travel separately, especially since Quellon wanted to go somewhere specific other than Pyke.

Truth be told, it was the same for him. He, too, had other destinations in mind. After all this drama and danger and pretended sadness, he needed some fun. And some people who were genuine, even if they were despicable people. One of the free cities maybe. Or Port Plunder maybe, the guys down there were always up for no good.
But before they could go, all of the crew needed to be recalled and preparations had to be made. Not by him, of course. He was the captain. Dalton had people to do the heavy lifting for him, at least most of the time. Sometimes, he had to get hands-on as well. That was part of the reason why he had donned his leathers again, eschewing the finery that had been expected of a high lord’s son in favour of simple sailing garb. The sigil of his house was embroidered into it though, of course.

For the most part though, he did not really have anything to do right then aside from patrolling the docks and picking up every Ironborn slacker he could find. Not that he found any today, of course, as they were all either working or still snoozing in whatever brothel they had spent their night. Instead, he found something else, something interesting. The lord, even though he had been annoyed by what was going on, had committed most attendants of the wake to memory – especially those he had not spoken to. It had simply appeared prudent at that time. The times to come might force even the Ironborn to truly engage in diplomacy, after all.
And that was why that voice sounded familiar. He did not immediately recognize it, given that he had not heard it speak in such a way before, but he was fairly sure he’d heard it at the wake at least.

Dark eyes following the voice they found a lady, one who had stood with the Lannisters, but did not appear to want to be recognized as one at the moment. Her guard did not look the part even though it should and she had clearly decided against her house’s colours today. In fact, she dressed almost like an Ironborn woman would, though a great deal more beautiful. To call this interesting would have been an understatement.
Making a quick and possibly brazen decision, Dalton changed the direction of his steps ever so slightly, as to approach her, lifting his arms briefly to indicate to her guards that he was not carrying anything but the sword on his hip with him. Once that was cleared, he would speak up to garner the lady’s attention, had he not already gotten it. Maybe Ashe was right and people just needed to get to know him. It could not hurt to try. “Good day to you, my lady. I guess I am not the only captain around that is already hard at work again instead of mourning, even among us highborn.” A genuine smile accompanied his words.

No enemy. That was a good thing to be called, especially with such a lack of hesitation. The guard did not even get to almost threaten him before the lady shut him down completely. This one certainly commanded quite a bit of a presence among her men, telling them off easily. This was less men looking after a silly girl and more men being commanded. Good. As nice as it had been to talk to the young Tully, she had come across as very weak and fragile. Meeting a white haired woman with a real spine was welcome – even if she was a Lannister.
Truth be told though, he did not really feel anything about family names and the like. Maybe it was because he did not truly look like a Greyjoy and had been met with a bit of distance in that regard. But he really did not care about the girl’s family and its history all that much. She seemed to have spirit, she was pretty and she knew the sea. That alone was worth trying to befriend her in his eyes.

Her taking off of the hat was met with a brief nod. Dalton did not see much sense in going for elaborate formalities if his counterpart eschewed them. It was much better just talk like normal people, in his opinion. Though he could not help but notice the paleness of her hair. If he had not seen her with her family, he might have pinned her under possible Targaryen as well. “Lady Lannister,” he ultimately replied – though he was not above admitting his shortcomings in this specific regard. “I guess you do have me at an disadvantage, however. While I do know your usual colours, but I am not sure which of the daughters you are.” Granted, he knew which one she was not – but he did not know all their names to begin with.
The only Lannister he knew personally so far was much less intriguing in appearance, but seemed to have a similar fire. Maybe they truly were lions through and through.

“In either event, I simply saw you and decided to try and strike up a conversation. I’m sure you have seen what happened at the wake. I think that is in part because our elders do not really talk with one another. So I figured it could be good to get to know my peers a little bit better, especially when a chance like this arises.” He shrugged. While he had his own little schemes as well sometimes, Dalton tended to believe in honesty. It came with the territory of being an Ironborn. When you reaved and robbed and raved, you did not need to lie or cheat. He simply applied this to situations he did not completely dominate as well. “And I do have to admit that your beauty might have factored into this decision as well, my lady. But since you do bring up your commodities, I guess taking a look could be useful as well. Our families tend to let silly preconceived notions get in the way of mutually beneficial agreements way too often, don’t you agree?”
Granted though, even if he bought something, it would be obvious where that coin came from. But then again, if there was any family that would be fine with taking blood-stained coin, it would be the Lannisters. Just as long as it was not their blood.

Energetic and forward, those two monikers came to mind as he allowed himself to be slightly swept away by the zephyr that was Carmilla Lannister. She certainly did not have an ounce of hesitation not only treating with him, but almost treat him like a friend. Now, Dalton was not entirely a fool. He was well aware that such joyous, jovial words could well lace a trap. He certainly had been conned before, after all. But he decided to offer some trust to Cammy, as she wanted to be called, for she did the same to him. Leaving her guards behind meant that she trusted him to not try anything – or she trusted that she could fight him off herself. Either way, it served to make her more interesting.

He did have to laugh at some of her words, though. "Well, Cammy. I think I met your father once, long long ago during some nameday. But I doubt he remembers me. He was like all highborn men seem to a young lad. Imposing, headstrong, and most of all very old.” Given that she had asked in such a brazen manner, he had decided to just give her the unmitigated truth. Well, aside from the stuff with her sister, of course. Promises had to be held, after all. “Other than that, I think I briefly met your sister but that was nothing too special. Yu…Yuilya was it? I barely caught her name back then.” Another short laugh and he pushed the thought aside, following her onto the docks. Matching her stride was easy. The would have been something he’d much rather have done, but asking for that would have to wait until he had an actual rock wife – or the closest thing to it.

The young kraken did arch a brow though when she came to talk about the princess Alysanne. It had not been lost on him, either, but he had assumed that everyone else had just ignored it or just attributed it to misogyny But he put that on hold in favour of the more interesting explanation – for which he briefly overtook her and postured himself right in front of her, even stepping a little bit closer than he maybe should. He had inherited some of his father’s traits after all and could be at least a little imposing, if he so desired.
“Well, if you want me to pay the Iron Price, that can be arranged, Cammy dear.” If she actually was a lowborn, he would have already taken her by the waist at this point and pulled her in. But for a highborn, that would have been a bit too much. He thus stopped with the stern face, and instead gave her a sly smirk. “But yeah, this is not really how people think us Ironborn to be, isn’t it? Just take what you want and fight for it, yeah. But that tends to get Ironborn killed, especially if they do it to Lannisters in King’s Landing. We’re not stupid these days, even if my father sometimes plays that perception up.” She stopped briefly to turn to the side.

“But really, there is a much simpler reason.” He took a coin from his pouch, briefly, moving it aacross his knuckles in a playful manner. “Why do you think an Ironborn would care for gold? Sure, it’s pretty, but not worth one’s life. We still take it when we can find it ona raided ship. And the, we take it to a port. A brothel’s a brothel and you can’t pay the iron price there. And sometimes an Ironborn would like to have a drink without killing the innkeeper for it. So it’s not like we don’t use currency at all. It all comes down to how you get it. If you just go from port to port, buying and selling – yeah, you’re not a real Ironborn. But if you paid the Iron Price for the coin you use, you still paid the Iron Price.”

Possibly, that explanation was not geood enough for his new acquaintance to fully understand. But it was the closest he had. Of course there were more progressive Ironborn and more traditional ones. Though the progressive ones tended to live longer – while the surviving traditionalists were generally tougher. “In either event, that is where you come in, possibly.” He offered the coin for her, tossing it up in the air so that she could snatch it before it returned to his hand – just to see if she would do so. “You don’t seem like a normal, perfumed lass of a lady. I reckon you don’t care too much where my gold comes from, as long as it pays for your stuff. Unless, again, you want me to pay the Iron Price instead to or for you.”
Once more, he laughed heartily, before giving a token mention of the princess, just so it did not appear as if he was evading the question. “And as for the princess. I don’t know. I thought he’d tried to shut her up as he always would. I reckon he does not really see her as a contender. Possibly, he might even be after her, in case things truly go to hell. He can’t exactly breed with either of the other possible monarchs, now can he?”

She was swift on her feet, he had to give her that. Most likely, she knew how to use both the sword and the dagger on her hips. Possibly, she had another blade hidden somewhere on her body. It did not even seem as if she was truly retreating from him or even fear him at all, but just following her training. It was not the first time he had seen that. And she was not the first lady that had interested him in such a way. There had been another, one who knew her way around the sword as well. They had fought, too, but it had ended somewhat one-sidedly. Dalton still had a small scar to remember her by. But in the end, men simply had an advantage in these kinds of situations. More than likely, he would be able to overpower her if all other things were held equal.

Not that he wanted to, of course. The thought did cross his mind and was quite alluring, but this was neither the place nor the time for it. Besides, they were still having a bit of a business negotiation going on here. “I knew that you were a smart one,” he thus replied as he caught the coin again. The young raider was actually genuinely happy about that development. He loved people that were like him in such ways. Though he had to admit that she had not looked half bad in silk back then, even if they had officially been in mourning. “I do remember your silk, I do. But I have to say that you are a hundred times more alluring in leathers, my dear. Cutthroats like us look best when we wear what is natural to us, after all.” The lord clearly meant what he said. Those tunics and robes were annoying. They were not as comfortable as they should be and highly lacking in functionality. The fact that her leathers accentuated her curves well only added to that, but was mostly secondary.

Her return to the dragon topic made him a little bit weary but ultimately, he just did not mind. Carmilla was not making any secret of either her intentions or her methods. Information was gained and given, but it would not necessarily be free. “I think the country is bound to have a war in one way or another, even if my father does not start it. But I personally would not look too much at the dragons – for there are none. No real dragons, at least. Maybe, when the so-called dragons are done trying to fight one another, they will realize that the rest of Westeros does not only consist of pawns and loyal servants. Maybe making alliances with other great houses should take precedent over declaring for one king or another.”

Dalton made sure to not speak those words too loudly. While they likely echoed what many people were thinking, it was still not good to be caught saying them. But then again, they were in Fleabottom. Everyone said everything here and he was being tasked to guide his new acquaintance who knows where.
Feigning a short bow, the lord sought her hand for the taking, although he would not raise a barrel if she refused. In either event, he would be starting to lead her back into the bowels of the city, away from the harbour. “Very well, I will offer you my assistance. But you did hear what I just said, right? Gold is not something that can be used to pay an Ironborn, not for navigation and not for somewhat important information. I am pretty sure that you can think of something else that you could give me in exchange, though~.”

Interesting. So she was not that kind of woman at least. Well, that was both a shame and not. Father did want him to find a proper woman and this would be one. A youngest sister, yes, but still a good enough name. Besides, she seemed to be strong and smart which was most important. Given that he likely would have tried to win him Ashe had she not been married, he would be happy with this girl as well. Such considerations had to made, whenever a heir consorted with a beautiful lady – not just the Greyjoy one.

“Very well, negotiations then, yes? I reckon that makes a lot of sense. Oh any by the way, not all cut throats do actually cut throats. Sometimes, using coin in the same way is just as well.” He smirked once more, before at least moving a bit to the side so they could talk more privately. The guard they had already lost, after all. Plus, he had gotten to feel the hand, so there was that. It was not as frail as Ashe’s and had likely seen some work – but it still was the hand of someone who had others do most of the hard work for her. As with most things about this woman it struck just the right balance for him.

Not that he would volunteer that piece of information just yet. It would only weaken his position in their negotiations. “Either way, wine is good, but it is only worth the navigation. And so, I would say that we make it simple, yes? Let’s call this a game rather than a venture. Truth pays for truth. I answer a question of yours truthfully, you answer mine. If either of us catches the other lying, they have the right to punish in a way that seems fit and does not really cause damage. Oh, and the questions have to be of roughly equal value, too.” A hand on his hip he beamed his smile at her some more, before turning towards the side.

There really was no need for them to stand around while discussing this, if there was even more discussion necessary. He had agreed to the wine for the navigation, even though he did not know the destination yet. But that was fine, he trusted her that far at least. “They say that talking is silver and silence is golden. So I guess we can meet in the middle and call this the Silver Price, don’t you think? It is rather fitting, all things considered.”

He laughed at her response, even though he was not sure whether or not she was jovial about it. The lady was a bit hard to read in that regard. But given that she did not turn and leave entirely, Dalton was gambling on her just being a bit coy at worst, playful at best. Besides, he did like a nice mystery in a woman, to solve at his leisure. Whether or not he would get there, only time could and would tell. For now, he just accepted it.

“Any time spent in your presence is a reward in and of itself, my lady,” he replied, albeit with a bit of a comedic edge. The girl did not seem to like serious too much. That was fine, too. “But no, I am not asking you any of that, unless you are asking the same of me. After all, you can ask harmless questions too and only have to answer harmless ones in return. If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.” Likely, Carmilla had understood this already and just wanted to change the rules a little. She did act like a merchant. And for once, he did not have a raiding situation with one, so verbal sparring was where it was at.

It was not terrible at all. For now, he quickly caught up. “But for now, I think I have some navigating to do, don’t I? I think that could go a lot better if you told me where to go, though. The best map is useless if you cannot name your objective, after all, and the same goes for navigators.” He was still smiling, mostly because he was actually interested as to just what business a daughter of house Lannister might have in Fleabottom of all places – and that she thought a Greyjoy could lead her to. “I might still ask you questions, regardless of games and all. You are the most interesting woman I met here in King’s Landing during this visit. And that is actually saying something, given the circumstances.”

On the first I, he thought nothing special of it.
On the second I, he arched a brow.
On the third I, he became really curious as to what this was leading up to.
And after the fourth I, he simply could not hold it in anymore, he had to laugh out loudly. The streets around them were not exactly packed, no. But they were also not empty in the least. About a dozen eyes found him and by extension, her, within seconds.
But they just shrugged and moved on as soon as they saw that there was nothing going on but a flustered woman. Chivalry was not exactly the main currency of Fleabottom, after all. And he did not stop at all, at least for those few seconds. It would take a little more for the otherwise astute Greyjoy to catch himself again. It was not helped by the fact that she had exclaimed the last part with fervour, as if she really needed to push it away from her.

The word cute might have fallen in his head. “My apologies. Actually, no apologies. I stand to what I just did,” he noted once he had finally gotten out of it – unless she was already storming off. The young lord would not have faulted the, at that moment, very ladylike lady for it. Still though, in order to not make this even harder for her, Dalton swiftly straightened up. “I am going to take you there, sure. But you will have to be a bit more specific. There are quite a few whorehouses here. And given how much it took you to even say the word, I reckon you don’t want to find yourself in the wrong one.” Incidentally, there was no spike in his words, even though he could have made some more fun of things there.
Yet he did not. Mostly because he was well aware that whatever business she had in a whorehouse was likely just that – business. No one who wanted to book a whore would ask like that. Especially when he was essentially offering it for free here. “And as for questions, I guess I would just like to know more about you. Like what is your favourite food? Why do you sail and sell good when your family is already filthy rich? Those kinds of things. I honestly don’t care about houses and history. You are you and I am I. Last names are secondary in that regard.”