The island of Dragonstone was not a very beautiful place. The land around the Dragonmont was windswept and nothing but wispy grass and a few valiant shrubs that clung stubbornly to the ground. The little village on the coast clearly relied heavily on the sea to provide for their needs. Robb was no expert on the island nor on farming, but he doubted that any sort of crops could be planted.
The castle looked intimidating, nestled at the base of a mountain and covered in stone dragons. Robb had heard a story that the castle had been built with the arcane arts that only the ancient Valyrians knew, and now that he saw the castle for the first time, he believed the story. The stone that made up the stronghold looked to have been melted like metal before hardening into its current form.
The air was heavy with an odd mix of salt, smoke, and brimstone.
"Is everything to your liking, your grace?" a soft, sweet voice asked.
Robb turned to find Missandei, Daenerys's steward who was extremely young as she was only fifteen years of age. Nevertheless, Robb quickly found that the girl, despite her age, had a sharp mind and was neither a fool nor naive. She knew what her business was and was confident in her abilities.
Grey Worm, the commander of the Unsullied, flanked the girl as her silent shadow. Robb had an inkling that there was something between the pair, but he immediately dismissed the thought. Whatever they had was no business of his.
"It is, thank you," Robb replied kindly. "I've never visited Dragonstone before. I believe my brother and I once wanted to come here and search for dragon eggs" the northman glanced up at the black mountain that loomed over the castle. "little did we know that they were not even in Westeros."
"I am glad to hear this," Missandei said, skipping over Robb's story. "You mentioned that you wished to see where there is dragonglass on the island."
"If possible, yes," Robb replied.
Missandei motioned for him to follow. "Come, your grace, and I will show you."
The trio left Robb's room and made their way to the highest room in the Stone Drum, the main keep of the castle, which also served as the home for the legendary Painted Table. A detailed map of Westeros that Aegon I Targaryen had constructed so that he could plan his conquest of the continent. A raised seat had taken the place of Dragonstone so that its occupant could look over the entire map.
Missandei gestured to one of the tall windows that looked out towards the mountain.
"When Khaleesi sailed for King's Landing, we received a raven a few days after instructing us to mine dragonglass from the mountain," the girl explained. "Maester Pylos found many caves of the material and teams of miners have been working for months now, bringing barrels of dragonglass down."
"How much?" Robb asked.
"There are hundreds of barrels in the great hall as we speak," Missandei answered. "We were told only to mind it, never where to send it."
"It must be sent north," Robb said, looking over at Grey Worm and holding out his hand. "May I borrow your spear?"
Grey Worm glanced at Missandei, who merely nodded and looked back at Robb, curious to see what the king had in mind. The Unsullied commander held out his short spear and dropped it into Robb's waiting hand.
The northman weight it in his hand for a moment. It was perfectly balanced and its length was perfect for fighting in the tight, compact formations that the Unsullied were known for.
"The dragonglass will be made into spears, daggers, and arrows at the Wall," Robb said. "They're the weapons the Children of the Forest and the First Men fought with. They're the weapons we'll fight with as well."
Missandei gave a short bow. "I will see that the first ship sails at dawn," she promised.
"I will have my Master of Ships send help if necessary," Robb added. "Getting the dragonglass to the Wall needs to happen as soon as possible."
"That is kind of you, my lord," Missandei said.
"Grey Worm," Robb said, handing the spear back to the eunuch. "Perhaps you could help me with something? I have need of a few of your men for a demonstration."
Line Break
Robb and Missandei watched high above on a balcony overlooking the courtyard while Grey Worm and twenty of his Unsullied drilled. All twenty eunuchs moved in perfect unison. Each step was the same. Each warrior held their shield up with their spear laid upon the top edge. Their formation ensured that each man could support the other. When their spears broke, the short swords they all wore on their hips were perfect for stabbing the enemy while the Unsullied soldier was still protected by his shield.
"May I test something?" Robb asked.
Missandei nodded. "I will give the command to Grey Worm."
"Without the spears, I would like for a few of the men to throw themselves against the shield wall," Robb explained. "No fighting. I just want to see how they hold up against a charging man."
Missandei did as she was told, relaying the order to Grey Worm who began to bark orders to the others. Four men stepped out of line, two from each, and made their way to the front where they set down their weapons. Grey Worm barked another order, and as one, the Unsullied raised their spears, pointing them up at the sky. Grey worm nodded to the four spearmen, who immediately charged the two lines of Unsullied, lowering their shoulders as they crashed into their comrades.
Robb couldn't help but be impressed with how the Unsullied responded. In their crouched position, they were already braced and ready for combat. But when they were charged into, the back rank leaned in and supported the front ranks. So instead of running into one man, it was like charging into two.
"Your grace, forgive me, but for what purpose does this serve?" Missandei asked curiously.
"From what I understand, wights, the undead servants of the Others, fight like wild animals. Without formation, without reason, without discipline. They throw themselves at whoever they are going after. The Unsullied are the most disciplined fighting force in the world. Their shield wall, their very fighting style, might be the key to our victory in this war." Robb explained. "Whenever I see your mistress again, I would very much like to ask her for a hundred of her Unsullied to be sent north to the Wall."
"The Unsullied fighting style is practical. You do not win glory fighting in the shield wall." Missandei countered. "Would your men, your knights, be able to fight in such a fashion?"
"A question asked to me already," Robb said. "This war isn't about glory. It's about survival."
Missandei looked down at the courtyard. Grey Worm was looking back at her expectantly. Robb noticed the look.
"I have no further need for Grey Worm or his men," he said. "Thank him for indulging my request. It's been a great help."
"If you have need of anything, your grace, please never hesitate to ask," Missandei said before disappearing back inside the castle.
Line Break
"Your Grace, I must protest…." Ser Robar pleaded once again as he and the king made their way to the base of the mountain.
"Ser Robar, please, I grow tired of your protests," Robb grunted, staring up at the pathway that carved up the mountainside.
"Sire, you're not going for some walk through the countryside." Ser Robar said. "Dragons lay atop this mountain. Leave them be, I beg you!"
"I would listen to the man," a new voice said.
Robb turned to find Daenerys behind him. The woman was garbed as if she was still in the North, in thick furs. It was obvious that she had just returned to the island. Jon was next to her, dressed in leathers and furs.
"Robb," Jon said with an amused smile, "I thought you were finished looking for dragons after we searched every inch of Winterfell's godswood."
"Jon!" Robb said, embracing his brother. "When did you return?"
"Just now," Jon said as they disengaged. "When Daenerys's…."
"When Missandei told us that you were here, we went to see you. Imagine our surprise when you were not in your room." Daenerys said, taking up the story. "Why have you gone looking for my dragons, your grace?"
Robb shrugged slightly. "I'm attracted to danger, I'm afraid."
Daenerys gestured towards the path. "Then let us see them. I have been very curious to see how Rhaegal reacts to your brother."
"Jon?" Ser Robar asked curiously.
"A matter for another time," Robb said. "Lead, Lady Daenerys, and I will follow."
The lady of Dragonstone strode up the path, Jon and Robb flanking her with Ser Robar bringing up the rear. In the night, the sea around the island was as black as night. The moon shined brightly in the sky, lighting the path for the foursome.
"How did Arya take your leaving?" Robb asked quietly as they walked.
"As you'd expect." Jon sighed. "But I think she understood. What happened at Castle Black?"
"Thorne's dead," Robb replied with a sigh of his own. "Something snapped within the man and he tried to kill me. Thankfully, help arrived and Brienne eventually slew Ser Alliser."
"I pity the man," Jon said. "All he wanted was to lead the Watch. He was just chosen at the wrong time. Who has taken his place?"
"Qhorin Halfhand," Robb said. "He has a better understanding of the situation, I think."
"So the Watch and the free folk are allies now," Daenerys said, adding her own voice to the discussion.
"As close as they can be, yes," Robb said. "Hopefully, with the time we have left, our Uncle Benjen can show the wight he carries and all the realm will know what we face."
"Is there anything else that needs to be done in that time?" Daenerys asked.
"Dragonglass must be mined and sent to the Wall," Robb said as the group neared a large cave. "There is more to discuss, but perhaps another time."
As the cave came into view, so did the two creatures who dwelled within. Rhaegal and Drogon were both wide-awake and did not look very happy. Their eyes glowed as they glared at Robb, obviously remembering him from the battle before their gaze switched to Jon and Daenerys. Before either could say a thing, Rhaegal, the bronze and green dragon, moved.
"Whoa!" Jon cried, taking an instinctive step back as the dragon stuck its snout in his chest. Ghost, the brave wolf, growled and bared his teeth at the dragon, who snarled in turn at the direwolf.
"It's alright, Ghost," Robb said, patting and rubbing the giant wolf. "Jon's alright."
Jon stood his ground as Rhaegal got closer, sniffing his scent as he had with Robb. Daenerys watched the interaction curiously, wondering what would happen. After what seemed like an eternity, the dragon bowed his head before Jon. Robb's brother put a shaky hand on the beast's scaly forehead, earning what could only be a purr from the mighty creature.
"Well, he likes you." Robb joked. "I thought you said your dragons were in a depression, Daenerys."
"It seems Jon's presence has rejuvenated them." the silver-haired woman replied, running her hand over Dragon's snout. "Let's see how well he's bonded with Rhaegal."
Jon's head, still petting Rhaegal's head, shot up. "What do you mean?"
Daenerys moved further down Drogon's neck until climbing onto the creature where the neck and body met. She settled herself among the spikes that ran down his back before gesturing for Jon to do the same.
"Come, then, Jon Stark. Let me show you what a Targaryen does," she said before whispering a command to Drogon in a language Robb couldn't place.
The black dragon snorted smoke as he hauled himself to his feet. Drogon stomped out of the cave, gathering himself for a moment before launching himself off his hind legs off the mountainside. Immediately, his wings were spread wide and the black dragon soared off into the night sky.
Jon looked at Robb, who gave him an encouraging nod.
"No time like the present," Robb said.
Jon gave his brother a nervous look before climbing up into a similar spot where Daenerys sat on Drogon. The dragon beneath him grunted and growled as he adjusted to the weight before he did nothing at all.
Robb couldn't help but smile at how awkward and uncomfortable his brother looked.
"How do I…." Jon asked, patting the dragon uncertainly.
Without warning, Rhaegal took off, forcing Jon to grab hold of his spikes as the dragon took off after his brother and Daenerys. Robb watched as his brother flew off, his cloak snapping in the wind as the green and bronze dragon became smaller and smaller. Ghost padded sadly over to the edge and laid down all fours, laying his head sadly between his front paws as he waited for his master to return.
"Your Grace, I know it's not my place, but what in the name of the Old Gods and the New just happened?" Ser Robar asked quietly.
Robb glanced at the valeman. "It's a long story, Robar."
The knight glanced around. "I think we have time."
Robb smiled and patted the man on his armored shoulder as he walked over to the side of the cave, taking a seat on the ground next to the entrance. Ser Robar leaned on the rock face next to him.
"It all started at Harrenhal…." Robb began.
Gendry Baratheon
To the former bastard, King's Landing had changed in some ways and had stayed the same in others. There was still that familiar sound of bustling activity that Gendry had grown accustomed to, but there was no longer an overwhelming stench hanging over the city. There was also something different, something Gendry couldn't put his finger on. It was like the city had new energy to it, like a drunk on the mend. It was like the city was trying to become better.
"Does it feel like coming home?" Edric asked, riding next to Gendry.
Both young men were dressed like the young lordlings they were. Edric wore a sleeveless golden doublet over a black silk shirt. A golden cape trailed down his back, held together beneath his neck by a clasp that looked like interwoven antlers. Gendry was more modestly dressed in black, long, studded jerkin, and a black cloak. The axe of Durran Godsgrief hung from his saddle, a leather sheath covering its head.
Behind them rode a small column of a dozen Baratheon guardsmen. Each man wore a golden tabard bearing the prancing black stag over their chainmail and leather. They also had shields slung across their backs and swords at their sides. Two held spears high in the air, the banner of House Baratheon snapping from just below the head.
"I guess," Gendry admitted. "It's been some time since I've been back. I wonder if Master Mott is still working on his forge on the Street of Steel." he glanced at his half-brother. "Have you ever visited the city?"
Edric shook his head. "Uncle Renly never wanted me to. Ser Cortnay said that I was much safer in Storm's End." he smiled grimly. "After what Cersei did to the rest of our father's bastards, I say they were right."
"She tried to kill them." Gendry nodded, remembering when the party of Night's Watch recruits had been attacked. It seemed so long ago when Yoren and the others had been slaughtered. "Did she ever go after you?"
Edric shook his head. "No, Stannis besieged the castle before they ever came after me."
The two Baratheon brothers entered the city, nodding back to the gold cloaks who saluted them. The people on the street parted for the mounted party, with a few calling warm greetings to them.
Gendry was surprised by what he saw. He was used to beggars lining the roads, calling out for food and help. Now, the young man saw nothing but life and happiness from the citizens of the city. A small patrol of gold cloaks strode down the streets, armed and looking far more impressive than Gendry had ever seen. There were no small children stealing from innocent vendors, but they were running through the streets without a care in the world, looking properly fed instead of skin and bones.
"King Robb has been good to his people," Edric noted, seeing Gendry's look of amazement. "I heard stories from Uncle Renly, but this is not what I expected."
"It's a different city altogether." Gendry agreed.
The riders easily made their way through the heart of the city, with Gendry pointing out some prominent parts of the city. Edric nodded as his half-brother spoke, asking a few polite questions about his half-brother's former home. He was particularly interested when Gendry spoke about his time as Tobho Mott's apprentice.
"He mastered his craft in Qohor before coming here," Gendry explained as they approached the Red Keep. "He's able to add tint to armor without paint. What he does is…."
"Lord Edric! Gendry!" someone called, striding towards the horsemen.
Ser Brynden hadn't changed much since Gendry had last seen him. The old knight wore black ringmail under blackened steel, a steel trout leaping across his chest, which was different from the mail and leather he had been wearing when the former blacksmith first met him. But other than that, the grey hair, windburnt skin, and laughing blue eyes were still the same.
"Ser Brynden," Gendry said respectfully.
"Gods, lad, you certainly look different." Ser Brynden said, clasping arms with Gendry before doing the same with Edric. "You must be Edric."
"I am," Edric said. "Gendry and I are here to represent House Baratheon. We understand that Benjen Stark is on his way."
"He will be soon, hopefully." Ser Brynden said. "He's on his way to Highgarden currently. He'll be here next." the old knight glanced at Gendry. "I assume Gendry is now recognized as Robert's son?"
"He is." Edric nodded.
"Good." Ser Brynden replied. "I'm sorry the queen is not meeting you, she is currently occupied. She promised that she will greet you both tonight at supper."
"Perfect," Edric said, dismounting. "Ser Brynden, I'm actually very glad you're here. Perhaps you could help my brother and I with something."
Ser Brynden raised an eyebrow. "If I can, I shall."
"I'm aware that it's a custom of our house to hunt a stag and claim its antlers when we come of age," Edric explained. "I know our father had an antlered helm. Although I have yet to reach the age and Gendry is past it, we both wish to go for a hunt and claim our antlers. We know that war is on the horizon and we wish to look like true Baratheons."
Ser Brynden rubbed his jaw, looking between Gendry and Edric. After a moment, he nodded.
"It would be an honor," he said. "There is plenty of game in the Kingswood. We'll leave the day after tomorrow."
"Thank you, Ser Brynden," Gendry said, also dismounting, albeit far less gracefully than his brother.
Edric had been riding a horse since he was old enough. Gendry, on the other hand, was more used to riding a bumpy carriage that carried the equipment for the forge. His groin and legs were stiff, but thankfully the burning pain in his groin was gone.
"I knew your father well. He was a good man before he allowed food and women to destroy him." Ser Brynden said. "I think he'd be proud of you both."
Edric smiled at the old knight, clasping arms with him once more before going off to speak to the steward of the castle. Gendry stayed back. He quickly unstrapped Durran's Axe from his saddle and held it out to Ser Brynden, who looked down at it with a raised eyebrow.
"Where'd you find this?" the Blackfish asked curiously, removing the leather sheath from the head and admiring the dragonglass and bronze underneath.
"It's the axe of Durran's Godsgrief," Gendry explained. "The Green Man gave it to me."
"He did, did he?" Ser Brynden mused. "I assume you've been practicing with it."
"Ser Cortnay has been helping me," Gendry said. "I would be honored if you continued my training."
Ser Brynden nodded, replacing the sheath. "I'll do what I can. If you're like your father, then you'll be a right terror."
Gendry grinned slightly. "I can only hope."
Ser Brynden glanced at Gendry's bulging muscles that were poorly hidden within his sleeves. "I have a feeling you will."