The Iron Bank, six weeks after the Battle of Bitterbridge,

"Yes, Reyaan," Mario Dragar said tiredly. "Proceed."

"My friends, at our last meeting we discussed the problem of the civil war in Westeros impacting our operations significantly. That problem is with us now, and it is growing larger."

"Are the Westerosi refusing to pay their debts, Reyaan?" Noho Dimittis asked with a smirk. Then answer wiped the smirk off his face.

"Yes, Noble Dimittis, they are."

"What? What of our agreement with Jon Arryn of the Vale? It was decided that the Iron Throne would repay the debts of House Targaryen and Westeros upon the crowning of Robert Baratheon! We agreed to finance their expedition on this very premise!" Dimittis almost shouted in indignation, while Bessaro Reyaan shuffled the papers in his hands awkwardly.

"Considering the fact that Lord Arryn is now a prisoner of the Martell boy-prince, and seeing the reverses they have currently suffered in the war, Lord Hoster Tully writes that they can look into settling all debts only after they have settled the affairs of their own kingdoms in order," Reyaan replied wanly, to which Dimittis colored up.

"So, in essence, what we can assume is that they are using the fact that they got their arses handed to them on a platter by a boy who is barely sixteen years old, as a way to weasel out of paying their debts," Mario Dragar observed dispassionately, though his eyes hardened almost imperceptibly.

"My friends, this turn of events was unexpected. No one expected the boy-prince to vanquish the Lannister's to this extent. The great and feared Tywin Lannister is now a laughing stock not only in Westeros, but in the entire world! The war in Westeros is quickly spiraling out of control. The Reach and Dorne have sealed themselves into an alliance, and the boy-prince has staked his own claim as the King of Southern Westeros! Robert Baratheon's hold on the Iron Throne is slipping by the minute! Unless he defeats the boy-prince in Battle, Robert Baratheon may not survive to seat himself on the throne! And going by what we have observed, all our spies indicate that the Storm King cannot prevail against the Serpent Prince. They doubt that anyone can actually defeat the boy in battle, now that his already fearsome mind is augmented by the unending hordes of soldiers from the Reach!" Reyaan, who also acted as the spymaster of the Iron Bank reported.

"Damn him! Again, the boy moves against us! I have half a mind to ask the House of Black and White to commission a hit against the boy!" Dimittis growled in frustration, while others became silent as they considered the main obstacle in their path.

At this point, Prince Quentyn Martell of Dorne, had already amassed a fearsome reputation in the world, despite being only sixteen years old; both in Essos and Westeros, and his infamy only continued to increase day-by-day. The Battle of Starpike had brought him to the attention of all the powers in Essos, but the aftermath of Bitterbridge had made every single power in Essos reel back in shock and awe, at the manner in which the boy-prince had broken the back of 'The Lion of Westeros' himself. It had made all of them apprehensive and cautious, and now the eyes of the whole world were fixed upon Westeros, where the final clash between the erstwhile Rebellion and the new Southern Alliance was eagerly awaited.

"He is not moving against us, not directly at least," Dragar spoke out, after considering all the options before him. "He is moving against the Rebellion, and because we have thrown in our lot with them, we are suffering the consequences," the chief keyholder of the bank observed, to which the others reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"What do we stand to lose now, as opposed to earlier now that the Reach has broken off from the Iron Throne?" Dimittis asked after a moment's silence.

Reyaan looked at his papers, made some quick calculations and spoke out, "Of the total two million dragons in debt owed by the Iron Throne, Dorne accounts for five hundred thousand. The Crownlands amount to two hundred thousand. One hundred and fifty by the Riverlands. Another Fifty thousand by the Vale, and a hundred thousand by the Stormlands. The rest is held by the Reach. The West under the Lannister's and the North under the Stark's have never borrowed from us, simply because the Lannister's have never needed to borrow from anyone, and the crown has never spent for the welfare of the North via the Royal coffers. The Ironborn on the other hand, spend most of their time trying to steal from us, rather than borrow from us," he concluded wanly, while the others roughly calculated their losses should the Serpent Prince prevail.

"A million by the Reach, and half a million by Dorne, just the two of them account for two-thirds of the debt! If they no longer owe allegiance to the Iron Throne, then we are looking at a loss not seen since the founding of the bank! By the gods!" Dimittis whispered in shock, while even the famously stolid Mario Dragar finally showed some emotion on his face.

"Unacceptable! Those uncivilized mongrels cannot and will not be allowed to make fools of us like this!" Dragar finally exploded in outrage, even as Reyaan sat down while Dimittis nodded resolutely.

"Is there anything we can do? Our hands are tied on this! Unless we intervene personally in the war, which we obviously cannot; we have no way of forcing Dorne and the Reach to honor their debts! They can legally claim that they are not obligated to pay the debts of another regime to which they are no longer a part of, despite the fact that two-thirds of the wealth under that debt was spent in their realms," Reyaan observed crossly, while Dimittis stewed in impotent anger.

"I think we have tolerated enough," Dragar observed. "We must take action, lest the examples set by these Westerosi mongrels begins to give ideas to those here in Essos. That is something we cannot tolerate," Dragar observed.

"Tycho Nestoris is already on his way to Westeros as an envoy, is he not?" Dragar asked Reyaan, who nodded in agreement.

"Inform him that he has to gain an audience with the boy-prince before his coronation. Our demands are as always, the same. It matters not who sits on the throne, whichever throne it may be for that matter, seeing that there is more than one king in Westeros now. The Iron Bank will have its due, no matter what," Dragar declared with firm conviction.

"And what if the boy-prince refuses to heed the counsel of Nestoris?" Reyaan asked, to which Dragar turned towards Dimittis.

"Contact the House of Black and White. Seek a commission against the boy-prince just to be certain. If the boy fails to heed our words, then the faceless men are to deal with him on the day he decides to crown himself. His day of coronation shall turn into his funeral should he fail to heed our words!"

"So be it!" Dimittis nodded in agreement.

At that moment, they all turned around in surprise as a loud commotion interspersed with arguing could be heard from outside the doors of their chambers.

This was quite unusual, as it was a known rule that a meeting between the keyholder's of the Iron Bank was not to be interrupted under the direst circumstances.

Soon, the sounds outside ceased, and the doors to the chamber sprung open. An aide soon walked in, and knelt before Dragar, before handing him a message.

Unperturbed, Mario Dragar, the unofficial and real ruler of Braavos, opened the message and began to read it. As he continued to read, his eyes went wide even as his face lost all color, while his shoulders slackened and he sank into his seat listlessly.

This alarmed Reyaan and Dimittis considerably as they had never witnessed Dragar become so flustered.

After a few moments, with sheer will and discipline, Dragar composed himself and turned towards the aide, who was shivering at being subjected to such intense scrutiny.

"This … is confirmed? If you are lying, I will have you boiled alive in a vat of burning oil!" Dragar hissed, to which the terrified aide nodded in agreement. He brought out a medallion with a symbol, which though not visible to the other two keyholder's, turned Dragar's eyes wide even as the man handed it over the head keyholder. As he noticed the medallion, Dragar gazed at the message and nodded his head in a sense of grudging agreement. The medallion bore the symbol of the secret council of the Free Cities Alliance. As the head of the Iron Bank, Dragar was one of the very few people who was aware of the council, even though he was not counted as a member. In fact, in the entirety of Braavos, only he and the Sealord were aware of the council's existence, considering that they owed their positions due to the patronage of the council. As he looked at the messenger, Dragar realized that though the man was afraid, he was afraid of Dragar's reaction and not about the facts that were mentioned in the message. The messenger's eyes were resolute despite his fear. The message was true. The medallion's presence all but confirmed it.

"You may leave," Dragar dismissed the aide, who walked out very relieved to have been let out of that stifling environment.

After their chamber was secure once more, Dragar let out a deep sigh and turned towards his colleagues, "My Friends! I have dire news! Kings Landing has been destroyed completely! King Robert Baratheon, his brother's Stannis and Renly who had arrived from the Stormlands, Hoster Tully of the Riverlands, are all dead! As are at least half the soldiers of the army of the Rebellion! Kings Landing has been engulfed in a wave of wildfire which has completely gutted the city! Three fourths of the citizens of that city are now rumored to have died!" he spoke out, while the eyes of Reyaan and Dimittis widened in absolute horror and shock.

"IMPOSSIBLE!"

"HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN!"

Reyaan and Dimittis could scarcely believe what they heard.

"Impossible! This cannot be! How could such a thing happen," Dimittis was muttering feverishly and repeatedly, while Bessaro Reyaan seemed to have been struck dumb.

"The details are still jumbled, as our men are still attempting to find more information," Dragar pointed out to the sheet in his hand, even as his body shivered.

"Apparently, the Mad King was madder than we all thought! It seems that he had hidden caches of wildfire all along the city as a means of last resort to deny his enemies any chances of victory. It is suspected that a surviving loyalist of House Targaryen set them alight as a means of revenge. It certainly seems plausible, considering the second half of the message which is even more astonishing!" Dragar continued, even as he still continued to try and come to grips with what he was reading.

"Gods preserve us! He is still alive! That mad man is still alive!" Dragar whispered, even as he read the next part of the message. This was bizarre. This could not be possible. What he was reading made no sense. Now I understand why the council sent this message to me so urgently, despite the risks of moving so openly.

"What could be more astonishing than this?" Dimittis asked in incredulity as he looked at Dragar, while Reyaan just blinked incomprehensibly.

"I scarcely believe it myself. If I did not know that the messenger and his loyalty was beyond reproach, I would have tossed this message aside as a mummer's tale," Dragar whispered, even as he looked at his fellows with a wild look in his eyes.

"My Friends! I must inform you that … Casterly Rock has fallen!"

Sometimes, the human mind cannot comprehend what it sees or hears, when the information is beyond its capacity to handle. This was such a moment.

"What!" whispered Reyaan who sank limply into his chair, while Dimittis looked lost.

"Casterly Rock has fallen, nay, it has been sacked completely! Every single person, who bears the name of Lannister, from the oldest man to youngest child has been put to death. Every person who is remotely related to the Lannister's and their families too, have been executed! Apparently, Tywin Lannister was bound hand-to-foot and drowned in a pool of molten gold! His only surviving son has been sold into slavery, while his daughter's whereabouts are unknown. All other members of his family, including his brother Gerion and sister Genna have been executed!" Dragar spoke out, even as he tried to regain his composure.

"Who … who did it?"

"Was it … Quentyn Martell?"

"No … NO!" replied Dragar, who seemed rather irrational with the shock his mind had suffered. "The forces that invaded Casterly Rock were apparently comprised of," here he paused and looked at everyone before continuing, "The Ironborn, The Golden Company, The Volantene Navy, The Pentoshi Navy and the Lyseni Navy, along with the Unsullied Armies of Astapor, Yunkai and Mereen! A force numbering more than one hundred and fifty thousand men … and led by House Blackfyre and … House Targaryen! Together as one!"

"WHAT!?" whispered Reyaan with a choking sound, even as he almost collapsed with shock at such a news.

"HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS HAPPEN? HOW DID WE MISS THE GATHERING OF SUCH AN ARMADA? THE GOLDEN COMPANY WORKS FOR US AND WE DID NOT KNOW OF THIS! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? HOW DID THE CITY OF BRAAVOS MISS SUCH A THING!" Dimittis roared in anger, almost pushed to the point of pulling his hair out in frustration.

"Because of the person who commands this Armada," whispered Dragar. "There is only one man charismatic and capable enough to bring these disparate groups together! For House Targaryen and Blackfyre to put aside their differences and unite again, there is only one man capable of achieving this feat!"

"You cannot possibly mean …," Reyaan whirled around in horror, to which Dragar nodded.

"He has fooled the entire world and returned to snatch absolute victory from the ashes! Rhaegar Targaryen is still alive!"

Author's Note:

Well, it has been a wild ride, but we are finally here at the end of this story. I had always intended to end it on this note!

I know lots of readers will be pissed at this ending and think, it is maybe a cheap cop out of ending the plot, but I assure you it is not.

I am planning to make this story into a pentalogy with five arcs, each carrying forward the story from a direction completely opposite from the others.

As I said, this story also known as the 'Serpent Strike' Arc, was the first arc of the story. Here we are introduced to Riboku from Kingdom who has been reincarnated as Quentyn Martell. The story started with Quentyn moving to claim vengeance for the deaths of his aunt and foster-mother, and was intended to establish him as the main character in this plot universe. In this arc, we witnessed events mainly from Quentyn's POV, and the reaction of the world to his actions and their consequences.

The Next arc 'Dragon's Breath', will be primarily from the POV of the survivors of House Targaryen, who hide in the shadows while Quentyn wages his war, and will detail their efforts to plot about and bring the downfall of House Lannister which caused all their misfortune. It will also bring into focus, the main villain of this entire story, Rhaegar Targaryen, and his actions into definite focus. The shadow conflicts between Braavos and Volantis and their impact upon Westeros will also be detailed upon.

So, thank you all for your continued interest in this story, and I finally, finally, thank myself for completing my first story on this site after ten years!

The Sequel, Dorne's Great Heaven: The Seven Dragons; will be up soon.