Game of Thrones: StormBorn

291AC

I smiled as I made my way down to the docks, waving at the men I passed. Ever since I had been able to leave the castle I had begun marching about the town as frequently as possible so as to ingratiate myself to the populace at large. Occasionally I even convinced my sworn sword and tutor, Jaerys Velaryon (A nice young knight from one of their numerous Cadet houses), to ride out with me to some of the smaller fishing villages around Dragonstone where I had been trying to set up more classes. The people didn't really seem to know what to make of me for the most part, but I was confident that they would come around eventually. The Lord you knew was better than the one you didn't.

Still, most days it was just my growing little port here, full of Dragonseeds and Essosi and Crownlanders hired to build ships. Thus far at least people hadn't made too much of a fuss over the immigration, but that would probably only last as long as there were jobs and money for all of them.

But then, that was what the company was for.

By far the largest of the buildings in town, if one forgot the towering castle, Built of stone and wood over a steel frame, the first steel-framed building in the world if I was thinking correctly, though it was no high-rise to really need the support, but it demonstrated that it could be done.

The lobby was well designed, if still plainly furnished, and a great wooden carving of the corporate seal sat above the welcome desk.

I nodded at the doorman, Jon, before moving upstairs to my office. It had the best view of the rapidly developing harbor, befitting my status, from it I could see the new buildings being erected, the piers being put it out.

It was all artificial of course. Dragonstone's spectacular growth. The company was not so large just yet that it would need this many docks in the near future, nor was the economy of the entire island enough to need this much trade, at least not yet.

But for all I cared, the invisible hand of the market could go toss itself over the Dragonmont Caldera. I was intently and deliberately making sure that my own hand was both very present and very visible.

I was essentially a broadcasting opportunity.

Oh sure, to the men coming it was mostly just "The Narrow Sea Company" or even the individual recruiter that was hiring them, and that was deliberate.

Once they set foot on my island though they learned damned quick that it was MY island, and that I was the one buttering their bread, selling them houses at below-market rates and offering to transport their families here free after a year of service. I was the one bringing them up to what might someday be considered middle class.

And at the moment, I was losing money hand over fist doing it. I would see profits off the trade, certainly, but not Net profits when one factored in all the things I was importing. The inland of Dragonstone was now for the first time being shaped into terrace farms and cultivated, but the food wasn't the biggest cost anyhow. Not to mention the large expense of keeping my overseas offices. They were paying for themselves already by cutting out middle-men, but they were still yet another thing to add to the negative side of the budget.

This morning was the first meeting I was holding in my brand spanking new office, and appropriately enough, it was in order to solve my money problems.

I tugged at my high-collar as the Braavosi man walked in. I had taken to wearing one in order to conceal the greyscale. It didn't quite hide the scarring on my right cheek, but it did at least make it less obvious.

"My Lord." he greeted, the picture of politeness, though I did not yet have the title.

"Mr, Andien. I'm not one yet, but thank you for the greeting."

"Ah, but a Lord of ships regardless. I daresay you are trying to build your own arsenal here."

"Mhm," I nodded slightly. "Though for purposes of building trade rather than crushing loathsome slavers, at least for now."

The man nodded, smiling at that. "And worth quite a fortune too, as I hear it. I presume that this is why you call on the Iron Bank? My, erm, Lord, Mr. Thandril, in particular, was interested, I believe you have dealt with him before. "

"Yes, give my greetings to him if you please. While I still have funds to spend for a good while longer, I suspect they will run dry by the middle of next year." I actually expected to run out at about the first quarter, but he didn't need to know that. "Hence, I need a loan to push through the rest of my expansion until my trading vessels begin to pay for themselves "

"Most would be content to settle for less… explosive, growth, we're they in your position. How does the bank know you will repay your debt?"

"My model is sound. It will only take me perhaps through next year to upkeep my current holdings through trade profits, and the company will only continue expanding from there."

"I was under the impression that your knife-ships were not such great money-makers."

"They make well above what their tonnage would suggest because of the model, but even still, it will be the Galleons that really bring in the gold." I gestured to my window, open for now with glass yet to be installed. "You can see their skeletons forming across the bay. They'll carry more goods than a Cog and be near as fast as a cutter with the wind at their backs, though slower in tacking."

"I see, a match for Swan Ships of the Summer Isles then?"

"Quite." I nodded. "And with a bigger complement of men to safeguard against pirates, I can expand past Westeros and Braavos to do business through the Stepstones onto the southern coast of Essos."

"That does indeed raise your prospects." The man admitted, his hand rubbing gently the wispy black beard admitted his chin. "The Sealord sent me here in friendship as well… Mhm. I presume you would be willing to put some of your ships up as collateral?"

"The designs as well if you consider them worthy enough."

The man's eyes narrowed like a hawk at that, probably expecting me to be more hesitant in parting with the designs. I met his gaze evenly.

"I am simply that confident in my success."

Whatever he saw in my eyes, he relented, pulling a long scroll out of his cloak.

"In that case, I believe the Iron Bank will be willing to make a generous exchange."