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36.44% Dragonlord (HP × ASOIAF) / Chapter 43: Chapter 43: Avalon

Bab 43: Chapter 43: Avalon

Tywin sat at the high table observing the celebrations going on inside the golden halls of his ancestors. His family was celebrating the arrival of a Valyrian steel sword in the family. As this was indeed a celebration confined strictly within the family, their greatest treasure was in full display at the very centre of the feast hall. A golden statue of Lann the Clever stood at the centre of the hall with rubies for eyes. The exact origin of the statue was unknown as records of the statue's commissioning are nonexistent. Either way, the statue does have some value besides the expensive metal used in its creation.

 

Tywin found the statue valuable because of the message it conveyed. Lann the Clever was not depicted as a powerful warrior or as a benevolent ruler in the statue. No, Lann was depicted as a wise figure with a scroll in his hand instead of a weapon or a crown. The statue was a reminder that the greatest feat of their ancestor did not come from bravery or physical prowess but through utilizing his sharp intellect.

 

If the legends are to be trusted, Lann the Clever tricked the Casterlys out of their castle and claimed it as his own. He doubted that was exactly how the events unfolded. More than likely the Casterlys lost favour with their bannermen and Lann took advantage of this weakness to claim the castle and the kingship of these lands in the following years. Anyway, Lann's story and accomplishments remained important because they served as a valuable lesson for House Lannister. These tales and icons of ages past were a reminder that true power did not come from physical strength alone. There are times when one has to retreat and regroup to gather strength to their side. When an enemy was powerful and had fielded a larger army the smart thing to do was to not tackle the enemy head-on. Instead, you take the enemy apart one piece at a time and if even that does not work gather strong allies and take their strength for your own to destroy the enemy.

 

This was one of the reasons why he did not declare Westerlands independent after the fall of House Targaryen. Many in the family had wanted to declare independence from the Iron Throne and place a crown of gold atop his brow. While his family saw the prestige and glory in reclaiming the kingdom of Westerlands he saw only war and ruin with that path. So, he let go of the need for a crown in favour of having his daughter crowned. The resulting marriage formed a powerful alliance between the two Great Houses of Westeros that also gained them a loose alliance of sorts with Houses Arryn, Stark and Tully. In time, his grandchildren shall also be crowned but that crown will not be so easy to maintain if his daughter was acting like a fool and trying hard to undo the alliance that has put a crown on her head.

 

His foolish daughter's hand in turning the High Septon against the Starks has not gone unnoticed by their enemies and their allies. At least, Jon Arryn had the integrity to reach out to him with the issue but that gesture was for nought. The damage was already done and the Tyrells have capitalized on the brief fissure in relations caused by his daughter.

 

"The first instalment of gold is ready to be shipped brother." Kevan reported.

 

"Good. I want you to deliver the gold to the Braavosi at King's Landing. By the time you reach the city, I shall inform you of the name of the Braavosi captain and his ship." said Tywin.

 

"What about Cersei?" Kevan asked.

 

Tywin looked at the hall where the house of Lannister has gathered for celebrating their new family sword. His eyes found the dwarf that caused his wife's death merry and with his belly full of wine. Despite bringing shame to him and his house he had not acted against Tyrion. He let the dwarf live a life of luxury because Tyrion was a Lannister. Similarly, he'd not act against Cersei, at least, not directly.

 

'A man's worth is measured by the legacy he leaves after his death. Family is responsible to carry and preserve that legacy.' Tywin thought.

 

"Against Cersei? No. We cannot show disunity to others. Instead, you shall seek an audience with the High Septon. Tell him to rescind this stupid charge against the Stark boy."

 

"And should the High Septon decline?" Kevan asked.

 

"Make sure he doesn't by any means necessary. It should be made clear that in no uncertain terms that he shall ever again bother our allies." Tywin ordered.

 

"I shall handle the matter discreetly." Kevan nodded, thinking of bribing the High Septon. It shall certainly dent their funds but they could part with a little gold to maintain their good relations with the Starks.

 

Tywin leaned back in his seat looking at the sword lying before him on an ornate stand. The golden lion pommel he added to the sword gleamed under the light as did the rest of the sword. He had thought of naming the sword Brightroar after the lost family sword of House Lannister. Gerion had called him unimaginative and suggested a new name, Lion's Claw. He wouldn't say it out loud but he liked Gerion's suggestion which was why he agreed to let the sword have the name. Besides, the sword does look like a claw fit for a lion.

 

The Stark boy was a fine craftsman worth every gold dragon he spent as the Stark boy delivered a sword of exquisite quality. And now, the boy only proved to be more valuable by creating a boat that can fly. He'd have found the claim to be absurd but Kevan has seen the boat with his own eyes. If he could not trust the word of his little brother then there'd be no one in the world he could trust. That was why he was leaving the issue with the Faith in his brother's capable hands.

 

Once this bad business with the High Septon was settled he ought to pay a visit to his daughter. House Lannister could not afford to let the North return to isolation when House Stark was just starting to gain more power. It was imperative to tie the Starks close to the dynasty one way or the other.

 

XXXXXXXX

 

The Old Gods were the favoured religion in the North. Harry did not think most people in the North were highly religious. Most people only follow the Old Gods because the Old Gods were too ingrained in the culture. It was quite understandable as there were no scriptures and central authority when it comes to the Old Gods. There was just a bunch of old trees where faces are carved into the bark of the tree. A religious person would use those trees to officiate weddings and perhaps an occasional prayer as well which was rare. In the old days, the Godswoods were also used for trials and executions.

 

Compared to other religions, Harry found the Old Gods quite attractive. Their laws were few, most of which dealt with slavery, guest rights and incest. However, Harry found one more unspoken rule when it comes to the Old Gods at Sea Dragon Point. People believe that it would invite bad fortune should someone cut down a Weirwood tree.

 

It wouldn't have mattered to Harry what people believed in until these beliefs became an inconvenience for him. And that's exactly what has happened at Sea Dragon Point.

 

The survey team sent from Winterfell found two good locations for a castle. One of the locations was farther away from the shore nestled comfortably in between two suitably large hills. Harry found the location to be defensible but he did not need any natural defences to secure his castle. There were wards and barriers that could function as better replacements for natural defences. Therefore, he took a shine to the second location which gave him a good view of the ocean from above a large rocky hill. As a bonus, the site was near the shore where a moderate fishing harbour could be built without much natural impediment. Perhaps, if he were to pitch in with some magic the harbour could be stretched for a few miles and a proper port could be constructed as well.

 

However, all those plans were for nought if the men were not prepared to cut down the gigantic Weirwood tree that sits atop the hill.

 

"Maybe there is a better spot further west from this place." Ser Jory suggested.

 

"Aye, milord. The shores here are too thin for a harbour and the Old Gods would look upon us in favour if we were to leave their abode untouched." one of the surveyors said.

 

But Harry was not at all interested in looking for another spot when this one just felt right for a variety of reasons. The rocky terrain of the hill worked in his favour as he could employ dwarven construction methods to carve out a monolithic structure quite effortlessly. Another reason was that he could feel a magical resonance of sorts with the area. It was just a gut instinct and he was almost sure that there was a dormant ley line slumbering deep beneath the land just waiting for the right nudge to emerge. He could also reroute the magic drain in the land much better because of the presence of a ley line.

 

"No. This place should do." Harry muttered, looking absently at the small hilly terrain and the lush forest that was no doubt going to be a boon for a budding fleet.

 

"The men won't cut down a Heart tree, milords."

 

"That's quite fine. I can cut the tree if the men refuse." said Harry.

 

"How about we build the castle but also preserve the Weirwood tree? There are very few Heart trees in Westeros. Let's conserve those that are left." Robb suggested, looking imploringly at Harry.

 

Harry let out a sigh and nodded. "I could do that."

 

When night fell around their camp Harry was sitting in the open with a small fire burning nearby. Only the crackling of the fire was heard as he slowly and carefully carved the runes on a small stone. Dwarven runes were quite different from those used by wizards. The great dwarves of the Alps had a unique language of their own which he was fortunate to have learned from one of the dwarves. Dwarves unlike Goblins were not able to use bodily magic. Sure, they can use their magic to augment their physical prowess but they were unable to bind spells like wizards, elves or even goblins. However, they have a unique skill set when it comes to crafting runes. Their innate ability to communicate with the planetary forces allows them a deeper insight into crafting runes.

 

Under normal circumstances, a dwarf would die rather than share their precious wealth of knowledge. The circumstances under which he came to learn their knowledge were anything but normal. While stubborn as mules, dwarves were also preservers of knowledge. They were not as petty and vain as the goblins.

 

"You should go to bed Harrion." said Jory.

 

"Aren't you going to get some sleep?" Harry asked, feeling the telltale signs of fatigue.

 

After all, he has been working without rest on the runic matrix that should aid him in fusing the rocks of the hill into a single large boulder.

 

"I have the first watch. I'll get some sleep when my shift ends." said Jory.

 

"In that case, I want you to bury these two stones near that Heart tree." said Harry, handing over two runestones to Jory.

 

"What'll they do?" Jory asked, looking a tad hesitant to follow through with the task.

 

"You don't have to worry. Nothing will happen to the Heart tree." Harry assured the knight.

 

When the first light fell on the hills and field of trees at the Sea Dragon Point, the surveyors found a gigantic castle made of smooth black stone standing proudly where the hill was supposed to be. Two large curtain walls surrounded the castle guarding several dome-shaped keeps while giant square-shaped towers reached out proudly into the sky.

 

Hearing the commotion outside Jory Cassel was the first to come out of the tent followed by Robb. Both of them were left gaping at the gigantic castle that was towering over them blocking the eastern sun from their view. The castle looked similar to Winterfell but with more of a refined look.

 

"Are you two going to remain gaping like a fish or are you coming to take a look inside?" Harry asked, startling Jory and Robb as he sneaked behind them while they were busy staring at the newly cropped-up towering structure.

 

"Wha…? How? How can this happen?" Jory sputtered, overwhelmed by the fact there was now a huge castle before him where there was supposed to be a hill.

 

"You shouldn't be this surprised. I managed to restore the Burned tower overnight, remember?" Harry reminded the young knight.

 

"But that was…" Jory trailed off before sitting down on the ground as his legs felt weak.

 

"Are you all right Jory?" Robb asked in concern.

 

"I'll be fine. I just need a moment to… I'll be fine." Jory muttered, waving off Robb's concern.

 

Harry snickered as he walked forward and admired the castle that was going to be his new home and seat of power.

 

"Welcome to Avalon."

 

XXXXXXXXX

 

Oldtown was slumbering under the peaceful veil of the night. But not all of Oldtown was sleeping. The harbours remained active through the late-night activities of sailors from distant lands. Ships came and went regardless of night or day, especially with the Ironborn ships being gutted from the Sunset Sea. One such ship came from the far east transporting rare Essosi wares to be traded at the oldest city of Westeros.

 

A hooded figure threw one last look at the vessel that has facilitated his travel from Essos before walking away into the darker corners of the sprawling city ruled by the Hightowers. The beacon atop Hightower burned as it always has guided ships to the port. The hooded man walked the cobbled streets of the city, which was quite slippery at the night. Many alleys and bridges passed by as the hooded man finally reached his destination.

 

The large gates of the Citadel were flanked by tall statues of two green sphinxes. The City Watch stood guard over the many steps leading to the giant door of the Citadel.

 

"Wait. Who goes there?" one of the guards brandished his spear in the hooded man's direction as he was about to climb the steps.

 

The guard lowered the spear when the mystery man threw back his hood.

 

"Ah, Archmaester Marwyn. Back from your long voyage I see."

 

Marwyn smiled. "Yes, indeed. It seems some interesting events have happened in my long absence."

 

"Of course, Archmaester. Welcome back to the Citadel." The guard opened the gates for him allowing him passage.

 

Marwyn didn't bother to greet any of his colleagues who might have been up at this late hour. Instead, he went straight towards his study where he guarded one of his most precious treasures. Inside a cellar lay the Valyrian glass candles unlit since the last dragon succumbed to its death. He had been regaled with fanciful tales about the gifted Black Wolf. The length and scope of the tales became too much for him to bear he was forced to cut short his travels in Essos to see for himself if there was a grain of truth to the rumours.

 

And what better way was there to see whether the rumours of a resurgence in magic were true or not than by using the glass candles of Valyria? The dragonglass stand gleamed under the small lamp he set on a nearby table. Taking a deep breath, he placed both of his hands over the glass candle and willed it to light up.

 

Marwyn let out a disappointed sigh as the glass candles remained unlit. He was just about to pull back his arms when the glass candle lit up with a small spark.

 

Eyes widening in amazement, Marwyn tried harder to light the lamp and one of the candles lit up. For a moment, he stared in wonder at the candle before his vision suddenly changed. The stone walls of the vault disappeared altogether from his perception and instead, he found himself inside a giant castle there was a massive Heart tree towering over even many of the keeps.

 

Suddenly, he felt like something shifted beneath his feet. Marwyn flinched as he got the sensation that he was trapped inside a cage.

 

"Very interesting. Astral projection? Now that's a trick I have not seen in a while."

 

Marwyn tried to turn towards the sound but found himself unable to so much as move an inch. He needn't have as the owner of the sound came before his eyes not a moment later. He blinked a few times just to make sure he was seeing a child carrying a peculiar-looking stick twirling between the child's small fingers.

 

"Who are you, old man?" asked the child, pointing the wooden stick in Marwyn's direction with the tip glowing with magical power.


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