Dragonlord (HP × ASOIAF)

Benjen felt he was in a dream most of the time. It became harder and harder to discern what was real and what was unreal. The lines between reality and illusion was blurred these days because of his nephew.

First, it was the fact that his nephew somehow found the secrets of Valyrian Steel. He chalked that up to a blessing of the Old Gods. Otherwise, it didn't make sense how a child managed to unearth the secrets the whole world has been vying for. He was also even incredibly proud and happy for young Harrion to have received such a gift. The lad even made him a sword for his namesday and that was a very welcome gesture from a young boy like Harrion. Usually, boys that age tend to be not as observant as Harrion and just so his nephew was anything but conforming to the normal.

He also stood witness to his nephew's ability to weaponise his magic. Although, Benjen felt Harrion was hiding more of his abilities.

'It is a good thing. Restraint is important for a Stark.' he thought.

Because what happened next turned Harrion from being a blessed child in the eyes of many to an incarnation of the First King or Brandon the Builder. Harrion's work in the high mountains of the Clans earned him the moniker of Black Wolf, a name attributed to the woof companion his nephew earned. And of course, his nephew had to have warging powers as well as the power to put Garth Greenhand to shame.

The people of the high mountains generally tend to be wary of newcomers, even children. Yet, they were wooed by his nephew and within a short time, Harrion became a legend of his own right. The same happened with the fishing village near Eastwatch with one notable exception. 

The smallfolk of the fishing village were far removed from the rest of the North. They spent their lives in the sea and made a living out of fishing and sometimes whaling. To them, the sea and the sky are all that mattered. So, he supposed there was no great surprise to see the smallfolk of the village proclaim his nephew as the God of the sky, the breaker of storms and the lord of the harvest. Before Benjen and his group took their leave the village elders had promised to build a shrine to celebrate his nephew's visit and his feats in the fishing village.

Benjen had at one point planned to step in and dissuade the villagers from pursuing this worship of his nephew. He feared what it would do to a young boy like Harrion. Unfettered power tends to corrupt people and Harrion was too young even if his nephew was probably far smarter than most people he knew.

Despite his many concerns, he stopped himself from interfering to see what his nephew would choose to do. If Ned would somehow come to know of his decision in the future, Benjen was sure his brother would admonish him in the strongest language possible. But, his decision to hold back was not in vain as he could witness his nephew's attempts to dissuade the smallfolk from worshipping the young lad as a god. This incident gave Benjen some peace of mind knowing that despite the magical powers his nephew has a good head on his shoulders.

So, it was with some comfort that Benjen continued the journey to Skagos. Of course, there were other things that took precedence in his mind rather than what some village at the edge of the world was doing. After all, he along with almost sixty other people and some bunch of animals were currently cruising through the clouds.

Dark stormy clouds passed him by as the airship prowled on ahead defying the laws of nature. If he so wished he could reach out and touch the clouds.

Thunder rumbled among the dark clouds and Benjen abandon any such silly thoughts. He had already achieved the impossible by flying in the sky. He dared not tempt the gods any further by pushing his luck.

"It's incredible is it not, Stark?" asked Mance Ryder, a fellow brother of the Night's Watch.

"Hmm." Benjen hummed while eyeing the black brother.

He hardly knew the man but Lord Commander Mormont vouched for the Mance Ryder. It also helped his fellow black brother has chosen to remain a spectator of the events that unfolded back at Eastwatch. The other three black brothers were far more vocal and perhaps a tad loose-tongued for his tastes.

"I suppose with the young lord's magic, the Starks of Winterfell can once again take the moniker of Kings of Winter." said Mance.

"To speak like that in the Seven Kingdoms is treason." Benjen warned, glaring at the man.

"Then I'm glad we are not in the Seven Kingdoms." said Mance, a cheeky smile adorning his face.

"Still, I'd rather not hear such talk gain traction. This is dangerous talk and you endanger the life of a small boy with these talks." Benjen cautioned.

"Your nephew has the power to make boats fly and barren lands flourish with his touch. As he grows older, he'll only rise to new heights with his magic."

"The Targaryens thought themselves the masters of the sky. They climbed heights without giving heed to the happenings of the ground. They may have risen higher but only to fall harder." said Benjen.

"The dragons flew too close to the sun and lost their wings. But, we shall rise farther than the dragons ever could without wings." said Harrion, his nephew climbing out from the expanded space beneath the airship's cabin.

"Nephew! I see you have finished whatever it is you were doing with that apprentice of yours." said Benjen, adjusting himself in his seat so that Harrion could sit beside him.

"We were just experimenting with some runes." said Harrion, shrugging his shoulders before turning his eyes on the man who is controlling the boat.

"How's she doing?" asked Harrion, eyes lighting up with unbridled curiosity.

"The boat's fine. She's strong enough to not even jerk in this strong wind." said Mance, never taking his eyes from ahead all the while keeping a steady hand on the wheel that was steering the boat.

"There is however one problem though. We have no idea where we are going. With the sky filled with dark clouds, we've been a bit lost on directions and neither of us has any experience with divining directions from a flying boat." said Benjen.

"There is no need for worry, Stark. At some point, the clouds will give away and we'll be seeing the sun. Then we should get a broad idea about our position." said Mance.

"Don't bother." said Harrion, offering what appeared to be a small wooden box that could be fit in a palm.

Benjen watched curiously as Mance took the offered box. He was also quite curious about what was inside so he strained to get a better look as Mance opened the box.

"What is this?" Benjen asked out loud.

"This is a compass. The needle inside the compass will always point north. So, if you know where the north is then the rest of the directions can be easily known." Harrion explained, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Benjen should not have been surprised by his nephew anymore but he found himself gaping at the 'compass'. There was indeed a black needle pointing to an area marked as the north inside the wooden box.

"H...How?" Benjen asked despite knowing the answer.

"This time my answer is not magic."

His nephew cheekily said. 

Benjen shook himself out of the stupor and looked at Harrion for answers. His nephew obliged without much fanfare.

"The needle is made of a magnet. I found it among the sand I used for making glass. I've been gathering the magnetic particles to make the needle just for this purpose. You see a magnet is..."

Benjen's jaw slowly dropped open as his nephew launched a long-winded explanation that frankly went right over his head. He looked sideways at Mance Ryder who was gawking at his nephew as if the lad had grown a second head out of his neck.

"Harrion." Benjen called out interrupting his nephew. "I think I speak for both of us here. We didn't understand anything you just said."

Mance nodded in agreement.

Benjen watched his nephew let out a frustrated sigh.

"All you need to know is that the compass will point north."

"Good lad. This little thing will do mighty good in rangings beyond the Wall." said Mance.

"Aye, it would." Benjen concluded.

He took the 'compass' from Mance's hand. It was a small thing with a needle encased in a piece of glass. He faced straight ahead and looked at the compass.

"Hmm. This could be very useful in the right hands." Benjen muttered, as he played with the little piece of wonder in his hand.

"So, are we near the Skane island?" asked Harrion.

"No. We are most definitely not. Look." Mance said, pointing to the distance.

Sure enough, there were large mountain ranges reaching out to the sky filled with barren rocks. But, that was not what mattered. What matters was the large caves down there and a small village filled with huts nearby.

"We are nearing the lands of House Stane. Do we land or turn the boat around?" Mance asked, looking at Benjen.

"Make the landing. Lord Stane was the one to present father with the Unicorn horn. He'll be helpful in finding the Unicorn herds." said Harrion.

Benjen looked at his nephew and then at the Skagosi in the distance. He thought for a moment about what to do before he gave his consent. His nephew did have a point. Lord Stane could be of help in tracking down the Unicorns.

"Heh! Down we go." Mance Ryder yelled as he pulled down the lever that controlled the boat's elevation.

Benjen held onto his seat as the boat dipped down sharply and floated just inches over the sea.

They were finally at Skagos!

XXXXXXXX

Kevan flinched at the havoc unleashed in the melee. It looked as though a maelstrom was punching through the assembled men. The crowd was loving it and roaring out their approval. His brother, not so much.

He looked at his brother sitting beside him who was sporting a disapproving frown.

"Thick-headed oaf."

Kevan heard his brother mutter under his breath.

Looking around he was glad to note everyone was rather engrossed in the melee to hear Tywin's words.

"You gave wise counsel brother. But, we both know our King tends to be cut from a different cloth when it comes to showing off his martial prowess." Kevan whispered, trying to calm his elder brother down lest anyone notice the lack of composure of the Lord of Casterly Rock. 

"Robert should have listened to my advice. There are enemies circling him hoping to get the jump on him. Throwing himself into a melee where anyone can fell the King is the height of stupidity and madness." Tywin hissed, his green eyes darkening with anger. 

Kevan was under no misconception that his brother cared for his old friend's son. Tywin's concern was for his grandchildren and their future. If something were to happen to Robert, the uneasy peace between the Seven Kingdoms would be threatened. Cersei and her children would be threatened and Robert's brothers could be viable claimants to the Iron Throne. Considering Stannis Baratheon's exceptional performance in using the Royal Fleet against the Ironborn, many lords would look to a tested military leader to take the throne rather than a young boy. 

"I wouldn't worry too much brother. If anything, I worry more for the poor sods who end up at the receiving end of our King's hammer." said Kevan, earning a grunt from his elder brother which roughly translated to a reluctant agreement.

"I thought my goodson was foolish to ask for a Valyrian steel warhammer. He could have commissioned two swords with that much metal. But, this weapon, Godsgrief, is proving to be far more useful." Tywin admitted.

Kevan looked at his brother curiously.

"Are you going to commission something similar? I admit I was quite fascinated and amused by the attempts of many of our bannermen trying desperately to lift the King's hammer." said Kevan, reminiscing of the day the King arrived and a feast was thrown in his honour.

Quite a lot of Westerland lords made a fool out of themselves trying to lift the King's hammer goaded by the King's offer of a thousand gold dragons. He had even seen the Maester tittering around the hammer hoping to find the source of the hammer's prowess. He had it in good authority the Maester was also in the dark as anyone else.

The Smallfolk of course had their own take on the King's hammer. Some believe the King was gifted the hammer for defending the Westerlands by the Smith himself. Some think the Smith gifted the Starks with the knowledge as recompense for the tragedies that befell them.

Rumours and speculations aside it was now common knowledge that the Starks now holds the knowledge of making Valyrian steel. A few in the North and the Riverlands have also taken to calling it Dragonsteel.

Anyhow, it didn't matter to House Lannister what superstitious smallfolk thought. They tend to think of something in the morn and discard it in the afternoon.

"A sword that can only be picked up with those of my blood..." Tywin mused out loud startling Kevan from his thoughts. "It sounds fascinating but no. There may come a time when my blood disappears from the seat of Casterly Rock. I'd rather not have the Lord of Casterly Rock have the blade and be unable to use it."

'Well, my brother is nothing if not pragmatic.' Kevan thought.

Kevan doubted there would be any immediate concerns regarding Tywin's bloodline. His brother's legacy is secured through Cersei. Of course, there was Jaime and Tyrion but one is with the Kingsguard while the other...

Well, the less said about the other the better. Tyrion was not exactly Tywin's preferred heir.

His musings were cut short as the stands erupted into cheers and roars of approval. Quickly focusing on the field he only found Robert Baratheon standing with his black hammer raised triumphantly over his head.

Kevan was relieved nothing untoward happened and the result was not that surprising, unlike the tourney. The tourney had totally blown away almost everybody by the stellar performance displayed by Lord Jorah Mormont. Northerners rarely tend to participate in the jousts and this time it was the lord of Bear Islands who emerged as the victor. The Bear Lord, the smallfolk called the Northerner, had crowned Lynesse Hightower to everyone's surprise. Hardly anything would come off it though. The Mormonts were dirt poor but at least they have their pride. His brother had offered them a fortune for their Valyrian steel blade only to get a blanket rejection.

With the melee concluding the day's activities came to a close. There was obviously a feast thrown in the King's honour for his victory. Casks of wine and the fine cuisine of the Westerlands smothered the King with heavenly comfort. When that was not enough Robert Baratheon's hands became a little too adventurous with the servants. Of course, Tywin had those servants sent away with a quick look. The King may engage in his trysts but not under the roof of lions.

Later that evening he was summoned to his brother's chambers. When he arrived there he immediately knew his brother was in a bad mood.

"Brother?" he tentatively asked.

"The Starks responded." said Tywin with a frown.

"Oh. I take it from your expression it is not good news." said Kevan, although he didn't think there was any reason to deny a request for a blade. His brother would pay generously for a Valyrian steel blade.

"Apparently, the Starks have come to some sort of an arrangement with the Iron Bank. There shall be an auction in Braavos for an order to place with the Starks." said Tywin.

"That is...."

"Clever of Eddard Stark. He has carefully stepped away from committing any perceived slights. No doubt the man saw he'd be in a bind in the future with multiple lords placing orders. With an auction, he has divested any responsibility and consequently increased his earnings as everyone competes to place the order. Using the Iron Bank undoubtedly will secure the earnings but at the cost of influence." said Tywin.

"So... What shall be our move?" asked Kevan, taking a seat across from his brother.

"We can expect an invitation from the Iron Bank about the auction. Eddard Stark writes his son shall only make a weapon once every six months. No matter the cost House Lannister shall secure triumph in the auction. Our enemies think us weak after the Ironborn rebellion. This is the opportunity to prove them wrong and show our power and wealth."

Kevan wanted to disagree but he held his tongue. Tywin was his elder and the eldest reaped all the glory. This has been the way of the world and it'll continue to be. His duty has always been to obey.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"You shall go to Braavos and represent House Lannister. The Braavosi respect only one thing, gold. You will be warmly received." said Tywin, folding his hands.

"As you wish. I shall make the preparations then."