Tony
"This is a really weird dream."
The woman that kept claiming she was Ned's youngest daughter scowled at him when he said that, leaning over the bed Tony was currently lying in.
"You know… my mother used to look at me like that whenever I tried to get out of training in the yard by telling her I was sick," he told her, trying to manage a lazy smile. The way the muscles in his face twinged, stiff and aching, told him without looking in a mirror that he was failing completely to be casual. He had no idea how bad off he was though he couldn't help but believe, perhaps vainly, that no matter how beat up he was he looked better than most people in the world. "Assuming I'm not also dreaming that I'm beaten up," he thought to himself.
"Stop saying you're dreaming," Not-Arya said to him with a huff.
"…how did you know-"
"You said it. Multiple times."
"Huh." Tony mulled that over. "I thought I was thinking that." He shut his eyes for a moment. "Could that blow have done something to-"
"Yes, it did."
"…I saw a man have sex with a horse and I didn't turn away as quick as I should have."
"Ugh!" Not-Arya complained
Tony blinked in surprise. "Okay, damaged my ability to not speak my mind. Of course knowing my father he's looking up from whichever of the Seven Hells he's trapped in and wondering if I only just realized that now." Not-Arya stared at him and Tony tried to shrug but considering how they'd wrapped him up it came off as barely a sh-, let along a shrug. "It's a jape… the Seven Hells aren't real. Seven Heavens either. And even if they were he followed the Old Gods so he'd go to… hmmm… where do the Old Gods send people who are bad and deserve to be punished. I bet it is The Twins. That makes the most sense, right? You sin and your punishment is to get squirted out of Walder Frey's balls?"
"I see your ability to ramble hasn't been broken."
"Of course," he continued on, "if this is a dream then of course you would know what I was thinking. So I'm not actually talking out load right now I am thinking and you, as part of my mind, know exactly-MMMPF!" Tony's eyes widened (or at least one of them did while the other kind of, sort of opened a bit more) as Not-Arya covered his mouth with her hand.
"Would you try and be quiet for a moment so I could actually get in a word-GAH!" The woman ripped her hand away and began to wave it about. "Did you just LICK my palm?"
"Not sure why you're complaining… I washed my tongue recently. When is the last time you took some soap to your hand? Blah!"He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it a few times. "That tasted just like that man-fucking horse!"
Not-Arya wiped her hand on the sheets of his bed. "Why do you keep insisting this is a dream?" she complained.
"Maybe the fact that you look like Lyanna Stark and she's dead. And there is no way you are Arya because I might lose track of time but not that badly!" He shifted to try and sit up, because he felt utterly ridiculous laying flat on his back while she leaned over him awkwardly, only to let out a groan.
"Stop that," Not-Arya said, pressing a hand gently but firmly on his shoulder… only to grow a bit less gently when he tried to force himself up all the same. "I mean it. I'm stronger than you look."
"You… you mean how I look."
"That's what I said, how you look." She smiled with false sweetness.
"See… that kind of cleverness… can only come from me!" Tony complained. "So this must be a dream."
"It's not a dream. I told you I'd explain-"
He rolled his eyes (eye?) at that. "Everyone always used to say that to me when I was younger and then never explain things properly. Feed me a bunch of lies and cheery falsehoods like they thought that would be enough to get me to let go of the question. It never worked… but you must already know that because you are just a part of my mind."
"I'm going to begin getting offended if you keep telling me how I don't exist," she complained.
Tony reached out and patted her hand with his own, mildly pleased to see that other than a few cuts it didn't look that bad at all. "It's okay… you aren't real to begin with so your feelings don't matter."
"I'm going to get Hank to cut off your milk of the poppy," Not-Arya growled.
"See! That sounds just like Lyanna so you must be a dream!" Tony proclaimed happily. He looked away from her, taking in the light blue-gray stone that made up the ceiling of his room. "Because Lyanna is dead. And you can't just be a Stark because the timing doesn't work out. Benjen was too young to father a bastard and you don't look enough like Brandon to be one of his… though to be honest I've never heard about Brandon having any bastards which is odd because that man LOVED to fuck!"
"I do not need to hear this," Not-Arya complained, a pained look on her face.
Tony though waved her off lazily. "Oh come on, you're a figment of my sea addled mind. You can't get disturbed."
"I'm real and I really don't want to hear about my uncle having sex with whores!"
"It wasn't just whores," Tony pointed out helpfully. "Why do you think the Lady of Barrowtown has a problem with the Starks? It's not merely because Lord Dustin died trying to save Lyanna… she was always bitter that she wasn't Lady Stark. Of course it wasn't just her… Brandon put his dick in a lot of women." Not-Arya began to gag at that. "In fact I'm pretty sure he's the guy I saw fuck a horse…"
"Do you EVER shut up!?"
"No and as a dream you should know that." Tony pursed his lips in thought. "Ned was faithful to Catelyn so you couldn't be his. And he would have told me if Lyanna had twins."
"Lyanna… what?"
Tony though ignored her, still trying to puzzle things out; he didn't have much to do, injured as he was. "But no, you're older than Jon so that doesn't work out either."
"J-Jon?"
Tony rolled his eyes. "I must be more addled than I thought, my own delusions aren't able to keep up. Jon. Jon Stark. Son of Lyanna and Rhaegar. True King of the Seven Kingdoms. The Centurion." THAT caused Not-Arya's eyes to widen all the more and she actually took a step back while, for Tony, a heavy feeling began to settle in his stomach. "Uh… but… heh… that doesn't matter because… well because this is a dream and… yeah, this is a dream."
"This… is not a dream," Not-Arya said though her tone was far less forceful than it had been moments earlier.
"You know," Tony said, smacking his suddenly fat-feeling tongue against the roof of his mouth, "if this weren't all a delusion I'd be worried that I just revealed information that could shake Westeros to its foundation. But it is a delusion so…" he leaned back against his pillow and shut his eyes.
"Oh no… no no no!" The woman shook his shoulder and Tony hissed in pain. "You don't get to sleep now! Not after that."
"My delusions are rather pain-causing."
"Why do you keep calling this a fucking delusion?!" she roared.
Tony cracked an eye open. "Beside the fact that the man that is caring for me is a giant blue dog?"
"Dog?" said figure said as he entered the room, moving with a grace that someone of his size and build should not have. "That is a new one. Most call me an ape… a few a cat for some reason though I've never seen it." To Tony's surprise the man pulled out a pair of Myrish spectacles, perching them on his nose before he reached over and took Tony's left arm, looking over it carefully before quietly nodding to himself. "Yes, definitely cracked. Not broken at least, so it could have been worse, but you'll need to splint it for the time being. Hmmm." He leaned over Tony causing him to sniff a bit, trying to stop himself from sneezing. "The swelling is going down, so that is good. I was worried about that. And the bruising is turning the proper colors, with is what I was hoping for."
Tony's face twisted as the hairy man pulled away from him, his smile friendly even if it was rather fang-filled. "This… isn't a dream, is it?"
"No but I can see why you'd think so," a new voice said and Tony twisted his head towards the door only to groan as pain shot up his neck and through the back of his skull. It took him a moment to marshal himself before he was able to take in the old man that was standing in the doorway, his white hair and dark eyes observing Tony with utter amusement. One might have thought it to be mere kindness, like an old man bemused by the young. The new arrival certainly tried to project a feeling of grandfatherliness. But Tony knew at once it was a front, a lie. It was a lizard-lion's smile, toothy and pleased but only because the old man knew that he could suddenly lunge forward, take Tony in his jaws and drag him below the stagnant waters of the Neck.
'No,' a voice whispered in the back of his mind, the same one that had saved his life many times during his travels through Essos, warning him that he was stumbling into danger, 'not a lizard-lion. A dragon.'
The old man entered fully into the room, placing a hand on Not… on Arya's shoulder ('How?!') and giving it a light squeeze. "After all, my dear, we are a rather strange sort for a man such as your cousin Antony." He looked over at the blue-furred man. "Henrik, thank you for your help. We will call for you if you are needed."
"You mean you will be calling upon me," the man, Henrik, said though there was no heat in his words but a gentle reproach. "There are no healers among your number… something I think I warned you about several times."
"We make do, Hank," a woman said and Tony's mind came to a screeching halt as he saw a naked blue woman, her flesh looking like fish scales and her hair short and slicked back, enter with blazing golden eyes burning with annoyance. "Toad and I know battlefield medicine-"
"You need someone trained as a maester, Raven," Henrik… Hank… told her. He let out a sigh and Tony got the impression that he was audience to a rather old fight. "But you won't listen which is why I will be ready to come and assist when you need me." He reached out and patting Tony's good shoulder. "Bedrest is your best hope now for a quick recovery. Trying to push yourself to heal faster will only slow you down… though I suspect you won't listen." He smiled at his little comment and hurried off, the old man and Raven watching him go before turning back towards Tony.
"I assume you have many questions," the old man said.
"No, of course not. Totally natural to see blue people running around."
"Tony," Arya warned him.
"You sound like Pepper when you drag my name out like that," Tony said only to stop cold, his heart nearly stopping in his chest for a moment. 'Pepper… I swear…'
The old man either didn't notice his distress or honestly didn't care, choosing instead to merely continue on with what he wished to say. "Allow me to answer a few of them for you. You are in Braavos, in the House of Black and White. This is the home of the Brotherhood, which seeks to restore the natural order of things."
"And what exactly is the 'natural order'?" Tony asked.
"Why it is rather simple: placing the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms upon the Iron Throne. Namely… myself." He gave a small bow. "Erik Blackfyre, Lord Antony."
"I suppose you have proof to back up your claim?" Tony asked. "After all, last I heard all the Blackfyres were dead."
Raven considered him carefully. "Most would react to the Blackfyre name with dread rather than curiosity."
"I'm not most people. I'm better than them." He shifted so he was sitting up a bit more because there was no way he was going to continue to have this conversation flat on his back and looking as weak as a newborn kitten. "I don't believe that blood or who your parents are or were matters a lick when it comes to how you are as a person. Bastards have been noble and trueborns have been monsters. What I care about is action."
"A rather progressive stance to take," Blackfyre said with a smile. "And I can only assume you are a wise enough man not to at once pledge yourself to me?"
"Like I said, actions. All I know about you is that you have blue people working for you and somehow made my cousin Ned's youngest daughter his oldest."
The old man waved off that unasked question. "A trifle. The Valyrians understood bloodarts far better than anyone else and while my Targaryen cousins let the secrets die off… and more to that matter were lax in rediscovering them save for a few… I have always been a curious sort." He held out his hand and Tony forced himself not to leap in shock as a candleholder rose in the air and floated over to them, joined soon by several coins, a small maester's knife, and a pair of tongs. They spun in the air and Blackfyre glanced at Tony, clearly bemused by his own display of strength. "There are far more wonders in the world than you can imagine in that head of yours, my dear boy."
Tony forced himself to nod at that. Even with all he'd seen there had been a logic to it. The sunstones for the most part. And yet this… this was something else. Perhaps not magic but something to rival it. "So Arya…?"
"A ritual to unlock her own gifts. Our little Shadowcat is a crafty one, you see." The old man nudged Arya slightly and she held up her hand, wiggling her fingers before passing the entire limb through the wall. Tony tilted his head, watching as she waved her arm about as it bisected the stone, before pulling it out again and tapping his head, showing that once more her flesh was solid.
"…you know there are a few people I've met who could use that trick for all sorts of mischief." Arya smirked at that, making it clear that she had done similar things herself.
Blackfyre reached over and tapped Tony's arm with one hand while with the other he sent all the objects back to where they belonged. The casual display of power was a message, Tony knew that. 'Look at what I can do and imagine it but your body'. It was no different than a lord meeting with a messenger in the training yard, swinging a sword or firing off a bow to prove their martial prowess.
"Now, there will be plenty of time to explain more to you but I think Arya, and all of us, must be indulged in our own questions… first among them being how you ended up washing up upon these shores that are so far away from your home."
Tony was silent for several moments, considering the request. 'If you can call it that. Still, is there really anything that happened to me that they could use? No… no, not really, so long as I tell the story carefully enough.' So out loud Tony stated, "I was tasked by Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King to King Joffrey-" Arya scowled at that and Tony couldn't help but agree that saying Joffrey's name, let alone with such a title as 'king' was a vile taste to leave on the tongue, "-to come to Braavos and speak with the Iron Bank concerning the debts the crown as built up."
"Yes, Robert's feasting and whoring did leave a sizeable dent in the crown's finances," Raven complained. "Something we'll be expected to deal with once all things are settled."
Blackfyre though held up a hand asking for calm. "Now now, I am sure our guest isn't interested in that. He is telling a story, after all." He turned to Tony and motioned for him to continue.
The tale he told them started out simply enough. Tony, Pepper, and Rhodey, along with the household guard that had been selected to come with them, had arrives at the ship Tywin had chartered for them along with a strong showing of shields and swords from the crown. In part to protect them and in part because no matter how loyal Tywin might think Tony to be he was still Tywin Lannister and did not leave anything up to chance. They'd set out to sea with fair weather and a strong wind and Tony had honestly let his guard down, assuming that things would only grow difficult when they actually landed on Braavos.
"A foolish mistake," Raven told him.
"I know that now," Tony admitted. "We were a day's out from reaching the city, perhaps even less than that. By then we'd spotted far more ships cutting through the waters baring all manner of flags and thus had thought little of it when one foreign galley had gotten close to them."
"What did it look like," Blackfyre asked, interrupting him.
"Similar to the boats of Yi Ti," Tony said. "I saw a few the last time I was in Essos. I could draw you a sketch, if you want."
"I will," Blackfyre said, the smile having left his face. "Especially the number of oars on each side."
Tony didn't ask why; he wasn't an idiot despite what some people might believe. Especially when it came to craftsmanship. Every land had their own designs and styles that repeated in all they built. This was known. A Westerosi broadsword looked far different from the blade of a Dotharki screamer or a scoundrel lord from the Jade Sea. Tony had studied them all… still did, in fact. One of his little side projects while in Essos (unbeknownst to both Tywin and Fury) was to see if he could get a few blades from Assahi, where it was said that to honor the shadows that were associated with the land the blacksmiths had learned how to turn ivory into ebony ingots that they used in their blades. Tony wanted to see if he could solve how they did such things, as the process was something passed down from father to son, and then improve upon it.
'But what people fail to realize is if you keep diving down into a culture you will find subsets… and subsets within the subsets.' Every culture for the most part had some form of sword as their weapon; a curious development he was sure some boring maester had once studied and pontificated upon. But each land had a different type of sword, though only a trained eye would notice that. 'Westerlands, due to the wealth of metals they had, tended to go for more elegant blades and loved to adorn the hilts with gems and fancy leathers; this could also serve as their ransom if they were captured. The reverse was true of the Stormlands, for they had been a warrior people that needed to churn out blades quickly and thus focused more on the edge than the hilt. The Reach liked their blades to have symmetry while the Iron Islands liked single-edge blades. The Riverlands where a melting pot of all of these, due to their placement, while Dorne seemed to loathe any blade that looked like it could come from any of the other Kingdoms. As for the North they favored swords with longer handles, like bastard swords or greatswords, owing to their history of originally preferring axes for battle for an axe could be used to fight a war, cut down a tree, or butcher an animal.'
It was the same reason why so many lords found it difficult to switch to their family's ancestral Valyrian Steel Blades when they finally were allowed to hold them. The Valyrians were taller than the Andals and especially the First Men, so their swords were far larger and yet also lighter… and those that weren't were built like oversized short swords and daggers for the Lords of Valyria. It was why when Tony had crafted Shadowfang for Jon he'd made sure to make it a bastard sword, to fit his fighting style; same with Rhodey's War Machine blade.
'The boat that attacked us… he has suspicions of who sent it,' Tony thought before taking up the tale once more. "When they rammed into our ship the crew went into a panic; pirates I am told prefer to capture ships if they can so they might add them to their fleet. Sinking them is a waste of gold and timber and risks your own ship. But these marauders… they cared only about drowning us. No…" he shook his head. "That's what I thought then. I realize I was wrong."
"What were they after then?"
"To sink me," he said quietly as he replayed the battle in his mind. It had been sudden and violent, the peace of the day broken up so quickly by the hole punched right into the hull and the invaders scaling the galley and attacking. "They were dressed in loose white shirts and brown pants; men and women. Yes, I thought that odd too because for most, unless they come from a female-led society, having a woman help maintain a ship is bad luck."
"Mostly because we geld the sailors foolish enough to try and take us," Raven said with a smile that was sharp enough to doing the gelding she was promising.
Tony quickly held up his uninjured hand. "I am married and have been faithful to my lady wife since we made our vows. No need to worry about sharpening any blades. Besides, uh, no offense but I like my women to be decidedly more… fleshy."
"Oh?" Raven said and with that her skin rippled and suddenly she was standing there with creamy pale skin, silver hair, and violet eyes. "And now?"
"…eep," Tony said, slamming his eyes shut.
He heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh. "Would you at least make a dress?" Arya scolded. "I do NOT need to see your cunt flashing about!"
"Language, Shadowcat," Blackfyre scolded.
Raven laughed. "And yet I remember you flashing us all-"
"DON'T bring that up in front of Antony!" Arya squealed and Tony finally opened his eyes to see that Raven was now wearing a white dress, cut in the Dornish style. As if sensing his question of how she'd managed to change so quickly Raven smiled… and the dress rippled like her flesh had moments earlier, turning into a dark red gown trimmed with black.
"So everyone who lives here gets handed a magical power," Tony said flippantly, trying to hide his unease at such displays of power. He'd never liked things he couldn't explain. "So is there a line to get some of that or do I just have to wait my turn."
"That all depends on what I think of you, Lord Antony," Blackfyre said kindly but with no sweetness in his words. "But please, continue your tale. The pirates?"
Tony nodded, swallowing as he remembered the end of the boarding. "They weren't looking for prisoners… they just wanted everyone dead. At first the sailors thought they could take them, as they only had small dirks on their bodies. That all changed though when their skin began to glow."
"Glow?" Arya asked. "Like a candle."
"More like a forge."
Blackfyre took hold of a chair and sat down next to his bed, now clearly interested in what he had to say. "Describe it. Every detail."
This time he DID want to ask why Blackfyre was so interested but he kept his mouth shut, understanding that in his injured state his usual brash attitude wouldn't go over well… and he wouldn't be able to make an easy tactical retreat.
"It started with their veins," Tony said, remembering when one had gotten a hold of him, just after he'd managed to sneak below deck and put on his armor. It hadn't been the full Iron Man armor, as that would have taken far too much time, but rather something similar to the armor Jon and Pepper had made and used during the Iron Born attack on Lannisport. He'd thought that would be good enough to deal with the pirates… until one had easily taken a blast in the shoulder, the injury repairing in seconds before attacking once more. "They begin to glow orange, like their blood has become fire… no. No, like lava. Its molten. Their skin begins to glow then and they produced great heat; I think that's why they all wore the same thing. I bet their clothing was treated like blacksmiths' aprons to protect against sparks and such." He shock his head. "Sorry, I'm wool gathering."
"No, that's good to know," Raven said. "Every detail you can give, after all."
"Right. Their control of their powers seemed… odd. At times it was like they had full mastery of them, able to control how hot they burned. When they first came on board they were slaughtering sailors with no problem. But it was slow… they didn't grab you and you turned to ashes. They would punch someone and leave a burn… a horrific burn, yes, but it didn't kill you instantly. Most of them had to resort to grabbing onto throats or heads and burning people that way. Or if they could get them on the ground then they could press their hands to someone's chest and cave it in with enough heat."
"But that was at first?" Blackfyre asked him.
Tony nodded. "Yeah." He thought of his battle on the deck, chasing one of the pirates up to the carnage that had been the very top of the ship. His armor had been twisted and ruined by the multiple hits he'd taken but he'd been determined not to stop, refusing to let the woman out of his sight. "There was this one… she began to get hotter. I was standing 8 feet from her and could feel the heat just radiating off her body. And for all her smugness and taunts about how I was going to die I could tell that she was getting concerned herself. She had to keep moving because she had burned through her shoes and her feet were now setting the timbers ablaze and then she just… dropped. Floor gave out right below her. I stood there for a moment and then the entire ship shuddered and we began to sink even faster and smoke and steam came out of the hole she'd gone through like it was the mouth of the Seven Hells."
Blackfyre rocked back and forth, considering all that Tony had told him before leaning forward. "What else about them?"
"Right. Yeah, there is more. So they are stronger and faster than normal people." He scoffed as he looked at the three standing over him. "Well, my original definition of normal. They also can quickly heal from wounds… cut off a limb and it just begins to grow back, like pouring more metal into a mold."
"And the heat they produce? How hot is it?" Blackfyre asked. "When they were in control, I mean. At the start. Just setting wood on fire?"
Tony fought the urge to rub his chest, remembering the burning sensation as one had pressed her hand against the breastplate he'd been wearing and slowly dug the sunstone out of it with her fingers. "They can melt steel. Good castle forged steel."
Blackfyre frowned at that. "And they all could do this?" When Tony nodded the old man's jaw worked. "No variants? One that could shoot flames from their fingers while another could turn into fire and another that spat flaming acid."
Tony crinkled his nose in disgust at that thought. "No… though thanks for that mental image. Really will help me get down whatever you serve later tonight for supper."
None of the people in the room, however, were in a joking mood. Instead they each glanced at each other before Blackfyre finally said, "That is… concerning."
"What do you mean?" Tony asked.
It was actually Arya that answered. "Our powers… we don't choose them. They… it's based on who we are. What fits us best. We almost… will it to happen?"
Raven spoke up. "Subconscious desires and that is all you are going to say about a ritual that is SUPPOSED to be a secret." Arya cringed and for a moment she looked like the little girl he'd seen in Winterfell once again. "But these pirates… they all had the same ability?" Tony nodded. "That's not possible. Even twins do not gain the same powers. One might develop the ability to fly while the other could turn themselves into living crystal. To have a large group of people, completely different from one another, have the exact same power? It's not possible."
"It is possible," Blackfyre countered. "I doubt very much Lord Antony would lie to us at this juncture… there is nothing in it for him to do so."
"But then how?" Raven pressed.
"Our ritual came from Old Valyria… who is to say that it is the only one? Or even the proper one?" He let out a dry chuckle. "I claim that my cousins were arrogant but isn't it just as arrogant to believe that I hold the perfected ritual? Is it not possible that we have all been using spells that are inferior to what existed before the Doom?" He settled back in his chair, stroking his chin. "This requires research."
"I want to know what happened. How did you escape them?" Arya asked, cutting through the contemplative talk.
Tony grimaced. "I didn't."
"But you're here."
"Because they thought I couldn't swim… not well at least."
"They threw you overboard?" Arya whispered in horror and it warmed Tony's heart that she had such concern for him. It was rare for him to have family that actually cared; for the longest time it had only been himself and Pepper with Rhodey and Jarvis and Happy and the like. Jon had easily settled into their lives but that was it. Ned and him would never be close, even with the shared knowledge and understanding the two now held. And he had thought that Catelyn would have long poisoned her children's minds against him. But it seemed there was someone that bore the family name that actually cared for him.
"Oh, that would be too simple," he said with a self-deprecating laugh. "No… they decided to speed the process along. Some chains, an anchor, all that."
He still remembered it, the cry of battle and the pirates setting the deck ablaze, smoke making it hard to breathe, burning his eyes and clogging up his lungs. How he'd ended up shambling about the half caved in deck of the galley, his armor hanging off of him in twisted melted slag before one marauder had rammed into him, knocking Tony into the winch that held the anchor chain. He's crashed into it and the damn thing had come loose, yanking him down into the water. The nightmares from his final battle with Vanko and how it had felt as the dark waters had choked his lungs had motivated him to fight. He'd been forced to rip his armor off in order to escape but when he'd popped up at the surface and been able to suck in a mouthful of air once more he'd found the ship gone with only flotsam bobbing in the churning water.
"If I hadn't spotted Braavos in the distance I'd have died out there. I grabbed onto a bit of wood and began to kick. Took a long time though; you found me at night but the boat was attacked midmorning." He swallowed and Arya, bless her, grabbed a cup of water and held it out, helping him take a drink. "There were times," he said hoarsely, "that I'm ashamed to admit I thought about giving up."
"Why didn't you?" Raven asked, not unkindly.
"Pepper," Tony answered.
"What happened to her?" Arya asked. "Did she-"
"She's fine… at least I hope she is." He shifted so he was lying back down on the bed as his head was beginning to spin. "She isn't dead, I know that much."
"Did she escape?" Raven asked. "Or did they take her?"
"They took her." The reason Tony had been forced to don the weaker armor was he'd run out of time… making sure that she got her full armor on. Pepper had tried to help him when the pirates had finally found them but her inexperience in her armor had left her unable to defend him properly, her shots missing and her movements slowed as she was so unused to fighting in armor, no matter how light the sunstone-enhanced metal was. The pirates had attacked her and managed to damage her boots and gauntlets and Tony had been sure in that moment they were going to kill her only for one of the invaders to remind his fellows that 'he wants her alive' and Pepper had been captured. She'd fought the entire time, his little minx, screaming insults and smashing her hands against their skulls, but when they could easily repair the damage that happened to them, reforming whole parts of their body, all she did was annoy them. "The last I saw of her she was being forced into the cabin of a second pirate ship that had arrived, same style as the one that had come before though it was flying a torn up and rather ratty flag. Red with two swords crossed… rather standard pirate attire." He shrugged. "I guess they spent all their coin on the first one and couldn't afford better cloth."
Blackfyre clearly wanted to ask about it but Arya spoke before he could. "Anyone else make it out?"
"Rhodey," Tony said. "He got… knocked overboard as well. I know he's alive somewhere." He was lying. Rhodey had managed to get his boots, a helmet, and gauntlets and had left before Pepper and Tony to deal with the pirates. Tony had only seen him once after that: getting knocked out and his boots firing off blasts that sent him hurtling over the horizon. He was pretty sure Rhodes had ended up heading in the direction of Braavos and it was his hope that his friend would find him soon enough, so they might regroup and figure out where Pepper had been taken.
"I think it would be best for you to rest now, Lord Antony," Blackfyre said, patting him on his uninjured shoulder. "We'll talk again soon."
Arya promised to see him in the morning, to tell him all that had happened to her since he'd last seen her, and was led out of the room by Raven, leaving Tony with the lingering Blackfyre.
"…so, glorified prisoner?" Tony asked.
"Hostage is a better word for it," Blackfyre admitted. "You are the acting Warden of the West, been entrusted to go to the Bank of Braavos, and are the cousin of the self-proclaimed King in the North. You are valuable to me, Lord Antony… I would so hate to see you hurt." He smiled at him, a gentle smile that brought Tony no comfort. "You won't be chained up in here… I doubt Shadowcat would appreciate that. You will be free to come and go as you please throughout Braavos. In fact I will even allow you to send a message to King's Landing that you've arrived."
"After you've read it, of course."
"But of course. And you will be able to make your meeting with the Iron Bank. Though I will make sure that it goes as I wish."
"And what's to stop me from fleeing? Just asking, out of curiosity."
Blackfyre held up his hand and a band of metal levitated from his pocket before flying right at Tony. He braced himself but the band merely stopped at his left wrist, twisting into a brace to hold his injured fingers and palm in place… and wrapping around itself so it would be impossible for him to remove it without cutting his own hand off. Assuming he'd even survive the bloodloss.
"That metal… I know its structure well. I will be able to feel if it gets too far away from me." The threat went unspoken of what the man would do if Tony tested the boundries of his new tether. "One last thing," Blackfyre said. "The flag of that second ship… you said it was in tatters?"
"There were holes in it."
"Just under a dozen. Red with two black scimitars crossed in the center, though they were faded?"
"Yes," Tony said.
"They weren't holes."
"What where they then?"
"Ten Rings."
