The Field of Fire had been three hundred years before. It was a battle scarred into the history of Westeros and many noble houses had burnt out of existence that afternoon including the Gardiner Kings of the Reach. King Loren Lannister held a war council the day before the battle, Lord Loren Lannister held a council on granting lands from extinct families to the rightful owner the day after the battle.
"This is foolishness. You intend to fight his army and three dragons at once? I owe it to my men not to send them to form ranks tomorrow." Lord Brythion Ironfur slammed an armoured fist down onto the council table, strands of his iron fur-like armour whipping about as his arm moved.
"You owe it to your King to fight tomorrow, or shall you be executed tonight?" King Loren leant forward over clasped hands.
Lord Brythion laughed. "Ha! Your whole army couldn't defeat the half thousand Ironfur men I have with me."
"Then why do you think this Valyrian army can defeat them?"
"Because they have dragons, we have no experience fighting dragons. Your Andal ancestors fled dragon's fire when they came to Westeros. Surely you remember that the Valyrian Freehold conquered half the world on the backs of those beasts." Lord Brythion leant back. "If you are certain that you're going to fight tomorrow then you should pin leather armour to your plate and soak it. So long as its wet you won't burn alive."
"You just said you have no experience with dragons, savage." A voice piped up from the far end of the tent.
"I have experience enough with fire. Don't you agree Lord Payne? It was your home after all that burnt down that dreadful evening. Such a shame that my men didn't find what you stole. Alas it must have gone up in smoke." Lord Brythion smiled cruelly down the table at Lord Payne. "Your Grace, if your armour holds water it won't burn and steel plate is bad at holding in water, you need the leather and you need it wet."
King Loren nodded. He looked to a squire off to the side. "See to it that my armour is properly modified, if I burn tomorrow you will burn as well boy. House Ironfur is assigned to the southern flank, your job is to hold off the Clawmen that he's hoping to flank us with."
"My men won't fight." Lord Brythion's expression was clear, he was set on his course and nothing would change his mind. "My men will serve as medics, we'll carry supplies and deliver arrows to the archers, we'll bring the injured from the battle and fill barrels with water but we aren't fighting, get someone else to send their men headfirst into a dragon's maw." Lord Brythion rose and glared at all of the Lords of the Westermountains, seeking out someone who would challenge him. Receiving no challenge he turned and left the tent. He passed several guards all dressed in their heavy ironfur armour. The strands of ironfur moved in the wind as it blew as if it were hair and reflected torchlight in mesmerising patterns. It appeared only the Ironfur were on guard duty the others were all getting drunk or bedding women before the battle.
He shook his head to clear it of anger. Why should his men fight and die in this battle when they had no need to, why should Ironfur blood be spilt because these Andals were too stubborn to listen to him. He sighed, took a spear and shield from beside his tent and strode out to the wooden stake perimeter that had been set up. The nightfires of the Valyrian army burnt against the dark on the far side of a field of golden wheat. No rain, the whole field would likely burn soon even without dragons or armies.
The sun rose and even peaked before the armies began to form into ranks opposite one another. King Loren and several knights were clustered together in front of the center. He raised an arm with a steel sword in his hand and the lines advanced. The Ironfur men stayed behind, some had already removed the large wheels and leather canvasses from the wagons that had come with them. They strapped the leather to the wheels to crate large shields requiring two bearers each. Then they made stretchers from the bases of the wagons.
The singing of steel sounded from the across the field. Then the screech of dragons. Three dragons appeared over the top of the woods behind the Valyrian troops and shortly after the golden wheat was aflame. The screams were very loud. Ironfur men carried the large shields dripping with water from the river that kept these farms watered and escorted the medics into the blazing field carrying the screaming and burning injured out of the flames and treating those who could be treated.
Lord Brythion dove through the fire, his ironfur armour rustling as the hairs caught the flames about him and whipped them up into taller fires. A banner was still waving ahead, the horn of the troops on the southern flank commanded that they hold the line and the men did as they were bid. The banner was half green half brown and bore a white badger with stood on its hind legs and with its claws bared ready to strike. The banner tumbled. Lord Brythion rushed forwards to where the banner had been. A man in thick armour was on the ground screaming, four younger men were trying to bat the flames off of him.
It seemed someone had been listening at the council, all of the men on this flank had leather armour on the outside of their heavier armour. Lord Brythion raised the man onto a stretcher the wet stretcher calming the fire still dancing over the man enough that he wasn't screaming anymore. "Collapse the flank."
"We'll all die." One of the younger men replied. "We can't just run or it'll be slaughter. We'll hold until you get father to safety."
Lord Brythion shook his head. "No, if you stay it'll be slaughter." As if to accentuate his remark a large black dragon crashed into the line before taking to the air again. It had crushed at least half of the men of this badger lord and threw most of the rest to the ground. The four sons looked at one another and nodded.
Lord Brythion stepped back out of the burning field the badger lord upon his stretcher upon his shoulder. A horn sounded. There were some screams but then there were men streaming out of the flames dancing at the edge of the field. The four sons were the last out of the fire. Honourable and brave men who can listen to reason, I like these badgers. Medics rushed over to tend to the burnt and wounded.
With the collapse of the southern flank Clawmen ran around the sides of the Lannister and Gardiner army. King Loren rode out of the fires alone, the Gardiners never escaped the field. When the field had finally burnt out the next morning the death toll had reached over ten thousand including the entirety of many noble families. The Valyrian armies however seemed almost untouched. The three dragons stood on the ground in front of the battle lines.
King Loren rode out to the Dragon King. He dismounted and bent his knee. Then he stood again leaving his crown at the feet of the Dragon King. He rode back as Lord Loren Lord Paramount of the Westerlands. Lord Lydden stood beside Lord Ironfur, leaning on a son. He had been badly burnt but he had sworn that he and his family would remember that day until the end of days. The Ironfur had saved the entire male part of the Lydden family at the Field of Fire.
Lord Brythion had only grunted in reply but afterwards the Lyddens and Ironfurs had remained friendly, occasionally sending sons and daughters to be educated at Deep Den or the Ironmountain. At Deep Den a large Godswood was grown with a single weirwood tree in it for any Ironfur visitors and a sept was built at the Ironmountain for the Lyddens to use as they needed whenever they visited.
That friendship between the two families thrived even after three hundred years.