Chapter 3

At the start of the year 274 AC, I had already been in the Red Keep for nearly two years, when news broke like wildfire that the Queen was pregnant. This time there was no premature celebrations and everyone waited anxiously for the birth.

One morning, I was outside, a short distance from the training area, where I was practising by myself, just the moves Ser James had taught me whilst Prince Rhaegar was receiving a formidable training by several members of the Kingsguard.

That was when the King walked down. He looked to be in a strange mood – worried but hopeful – and he took in the sight of his heir and a bastard.

"I would like to see the two lads fight against each other," said the King.

Ser Jonothor started protesting. "Your grace, his highness has only been receiving instruction less than a year whereas the bastard has been spending day and night with the sword for many years."

"Nonetheless, Prince Rhaegar is much older and has the benefit of all of you, does he not?" said the King. "I will not repeat my command again."

I did not hesitate as I walked towards the training ground and raised my practice sword. Prince Rhaegar looked at me with an arrogant smirk as he took out a real sword. I hesitated and looked around but neither the King nor any of the Kingsguard made any objections although Ser Barristan and Ser Gwayne looked somewhat disturbed.

"Very well," I muttered, pulling wind as an armour around me.

Prince Rhaegar moved first and I was surprised at the ferocity and speed of his attack but I could deflect his blow without difficulty. I charged my speed with wind and leapt at him, trying to strike his hand so he would drop the sword but he lazily stepped back to render my move useless and then struck at me, but fortunately, my wind armour deflected his blow as if he had misaimed.

I took a few steps back and reassessed the situation. I had moved so swiftly that he should not have been able to avoid me – at least, not in such a casual manner. Did he have some magical ability as well?

I made a quick lunge towards him but he had been expecting my move – and he struck my sword, a clean cut that cut through the wooden sword I was using in half.

Okay, I mused as Ser Jonothor and much of the growing audience of castle servants cheered, something was definitely unnatural about his fighting style. I pushed back with my half-sword and reassessed. He could sense my movement even before I made them. Almost as if he had a premonition. Yes, that had to be it – not unlike Demiguise in my original life.

That was bad because as soon as I planned a move, Prince Rhaegar would already be aware of a general sense of danger from the direction I was intending to attack, despite the best feints, and so he could plan an appropriate counter.

Oh, he had no interest in attacking me or finishing it swiftly, being content to let me make the moves while he neutralised every one of them while making himself look magnanimous and skilled as a warrior and me as the brash and thoughtless unskilled one.

Deciding to fight fire with fire – or in this case, magic with magic – I looked at him and nodded, an indication that I was about to come at him. And I didn't rush or make any sudden moves, keeping my mind clear without any pre-planned moves, I was just coming at him at a normal pace and when I raised my half-sword, I arbitrarily wihtout any forethinking sent an air swipe at his face, and he was thrown off balance from his counter move and I gained an advantage. Shocked, he was on the backfoot, trying to hold me back as I pressed on. Meanwhile, the cheers were growing – while they had wanted to see their prince win – seeing me fight with such passion and heart was equally pleasing.

After a second wind swipe, I found my opening and I knew I could finish it there. My broken sword was ironically a more dangerous weapon than it had been previously – the sharp splinters could break his skin and force him to drop his sword.

But what would I gain from that?

The enmity of the crown prince who would one day become king.

The hate of one or more members of the Kingsguard whose reputation was staked on the training they gave to the prince.

The distrust of a King who could see enemies where there were none by publicly besting his heir.

And so I delayed my move by just a second, allowing Prince Rhaegar to dodge my attack and touch the cold steel of his blade to my cheek.

"I yield," I said, dropping my sword.

The King glanced at us and nodded, although I felt the approval was directed more at my throwing the fight than at his son's victory.

"You fought well," said Rhaegar.

"So did you," I said.

Rhaegar shook his head. "Not as well as I expected." He hesitated and then extended his arm. "We have not yet had the chance to be properly acquainted. I am Rhaegar Targaryen, son of King Aerys II Targaryen."

"Harren Storm," I said. "Bastard born son of the late Princess Daena."

Rhaegar nodded. "I hear you are into music as well."

"Yes, your highness, I was inspired by you," I said, deciding flattery was perhaps the key to opening a new door of friendship.

He considered my words. "Perhaps, we should train together in the morning," he said. "And when we are done, we should play music together as well."

Prince Rhaegar looked up from his harp. "At this rate, the maidens of the court will soon be fantasising about the Bastard of Maidenvault more than they do so about the Dragon Prince."

I shrugged indifferently.

A month had passed since the beginning of our friendship and we had played music nearly every day. At first, the jam was rough as we both wanted to be the star – the lead – but eventually we came to an agreement. On songs written by Rhaegar, I would do rhythm while he took lead and sang and vice versa on songs written by me.

The only difference was I cheated. I had access to so many great melodies written by so many great musicians that I was soon being called a musical prodigy even more than Prince Rhaegar. For instance, Harren's Lullaby was already a firm favourite in King's Landing as the lullaby of choice and if I borrowed the melody and words from Brahms, he certainly wouldn't mind since he didn't exist in this universe.

But also the songs I was making – Twinkle, Twinkle, Harren's Lullaby and The Dragon Sleeps Tonight – were simple and filled with childish innocence and yet so melodic that they became popular without bringing into question any surprise that a child wrote them. The third one was of course a modified version of The Lion Sleeps Tonight, which I presented as a tribute to my friendship with Rhaegar.

"I am only ten," I told him.

"As was I when I started playing the harp," Rhaegar pointed out. "But I do not complain now if some fair lass wants to make my night less lonesome."

"You are a dog," I laughed.

"A dragon, to be precise," he smirked.

The suddenness of our friendship was matched only by its intensity. I had thought him a pompous arse and he saw me as a would-be usurper to be kept at arm's length distance but now I saw he also had a good heart and was much kinder than his father and he realised I didn't care at all about sitting on the Iron Throne. The biggest flaw about him was that since his birth everything he wanted had been handed to him – he wasn't familiar with want or need for the moment he had such feelings, someone would satisfy them.

But my skill with the sword and the fiddle won him over and he was singing such praise for me at the dinner table that I was concerned the King would become suspicious that I had given my loyalty over to his son.

And so, the King finally broke the long period of not summoning me.

"So, my son is your friend now," the King remarked.

"Your grace," I bowed. "It came as a consequence of our duel."

"This is good for you can learn what lies in his heart," said the King. "I will allow him to spread his wings – as Prince of Dragonstone, it is time my son saw to the affairs of his domain." He paused. "You will find a way to accompany him on this trip and report to me what you see and hear. Who seeks his favour and what do they want? Is he true to me or is he easy to influence or eager to supplant me? Find what you can, boy, about my heir's true nature, and upon your return, I shall have an appropriate reward for you."

But when I next went to Prince Rhaegar's chambers for our music session, I saw his expression darken the moment he saw me. I quickly pieced together what could have changed his sunny disposition in such a short few moments – his premonition perhaps went beyond physical acts and sensed that I was about to do something faithless.

"The King summoned me to see him," I said, deciding to throw caution to the wind. Simultaneously, I pulled wind just to make sure Aerys wasn't hiding in the secret passageway listening in – he wasn't.

"Oh?" Rhaegar waited for me to continue.

"You remember when he announced I was spying for him?" I asked. "He would like me to spy on you."

"What did you say?" asked Rhaegar.

"What do you think?" I snapped. "You might be my friend and future king but he is the King of the day."

"So, I cannot trust you anymore," said Rhaegar.

I looked at him like he were a fool. "If I intended to betray you, would I be speaking to you about it?"

That relaxed his guard. "No, I suppose not," he admitted. He sighed. "I can see you are not in an easy position."

"He will command you to go to Dragonstone," I said. "Let me go with you and I will report to him that I saw nothing unusual."

"Will he accept that?" asked Rhaegar.

I hesitated. "You know the King better than I do."

Rhaegar nodded. "He will not accept no news even though he has nothing to worry about regarding my loyalty," he said. "Well, you can give him news of a different kind. Something that will appease his thirst for you to find some dirt on me and yet not be anything that puts me in a difficult spot."

"Can you think of something that will work?"

Rhaegar laughed and I noted how infectious his laughter was as I felt my spirits uplift and my dilemma lighten with his mood. "I have about half a dozen ideas or so, we can see what will work best when we get there, my friend."

I smiled at him.

It was true, we were becoming close friends due to our shared interests.

Before our journey, I paid Lily a visit. She was fast approaching her due date and I was slightly disappointed I would not be present to see the birth of her children. As was she and she was in tears when I said I wasn't sure when I would return despite my promises to visit as soon as I was able to.

"The shop is in good hands with you, Mrs Granger," I said, after parting from Lily and seeing that the stocks were at a decent level and the ovens were all at work. "I leave Lily also in your care and that of your husband's."

"Oh, don't you worry, Harren!" said Jane Granger. "We will take good care of Lily."

"Spare no expense," I said, handing my latest share of the profits to her secretly. "A down payment for your husband's time and for anything else she needs."

"I can't accept that," Jane shook her head. "Not after everything she has done for us. And you, Harren, and all those books you bring for Hermione. It would be our pleasure to look after Lily."

When I saw Hermione, she looked grumpy and didn't want to talk to me much.

"Look, I am sorry," I told her. "But I didn't have a choice. The Prince wants me to travel with him." I could tell what was bugging her so I decided to cut right into it. "He's a friend but he will never be my best friend. That's you."

She turned her head to me, and I decided to summon all my courage and I leaned forward and kissed her lips. Just a gentle peck and no sooner did we touch that I sprang apart. Hermione looked shocked but as she slowly reached to touch her lips where I had kissed her, her expression started softening.

"Best friend?" she asked.

And perhaps someday something more, I thought in my mind. After all, I knew from memory that Hermione Granger would one day blossom to become one of the most beautiful girls of her generation. More importantly, her sharp mind and fierce loyalty made her even more desirable as a companion.

The Dragonsong was a double-masted galley and fit for purpose. Even if I wasn't pulling wind to increase our speed, the ship was a fleet one and would have made good time. As such, with my influence, we maintained an unnaturally high speed for a good part of the day – and I didn't mind, it was like exercising a muscle for me, the more I did it, the easier it became for future attempts.

"Somewhere, beyond the sea," I began when Prince Rhaegar approached me, humming the song from my memory. I couldn't recall who originally sang it but I had heard many versions of it. At least, in this world, it would be attributed to me. "Somewhere waiting for me; my lover stands on golden sands… and watches the ships that go sailing…"

"I like it," said Rhaegar. "Who is this lucky lady?"

I turned to him with a sheepish look. "I am only ten, your highness."

"Many sons and daughters of noble houses are already wed by that age," said Rhaegar.

"Perhaps, one good thing of being born bastard is that I don't have to worry about that," I said.

"No?" Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. I believe the reward my father has in store for you for giving him positive news of my errant behaviour is a betrothal that will give you a holdfast of your own."

"Really?" I was shocked. "With who?"

Rhaegar shrugged. "I didn't hear but Ser Jonothor mentioned it to me. He heard from Ser Gerold Hightower, who, as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, has a seat in the Small Council, that the King wanted a list of eligible young noblemaidens from a House that isn't too important or powerful and yet not one to be looked down on - Ser Jonothor thinks the King is looking for a match for you."

"That's… good to know," I said. "Forewarned is forearmed."

"Don't I know it!" Rhaegar exclaimed at my words and I noted the passion with which he said that.

We continued our sword training as Ser Barristan had accompanied us on the journey and he kept us both on our toes. But more importantly, we enjoyed fighting each other. For me, Rhaegar was always a challenge as even with my wind, I didn't always have an upper hand. Yes, a sudden unplanned wind blast would distract his precog ability just enough for me to get the upper hand but he was beginning to factor that in now. I suppose just as I suspected he had a special ability, he too may have his suspicions about me, although both of us kept it very secret. At the same time, it flummoxed everyone how Rhaegar could hold his own and even at times defeat a seasoned veteran like Ser Barristan but struggle against a ten year old.

As dawn approached, our journey was coming to an end. "There!" said Rhaegar and I saw the island of Dragonstone for the first time in the horizon. As we drew closer, I was feeling a strange resonance in the air. There was magic here and that magic was welcoming me.

"Do you also feel it?" asked Rhaegar in surprise in a low voice when I raised my arm and saw my hair was all standing up from the vibration.

I glanced around and none of the others seemed affected at all.

"The castle was built by my ancestors using fire and sorcery," he said. "I suppose, I should say our ancestors."

"The castle is shaped like many dragons!" I said.

"The Valyrians knew how to melt stone and shape it to their whims," said Rhaegar. "The curtain walls are filled with statues of gargoyles, griffins, hellhounds and wyverns. The Valyrians of old could use magic to bring them to life. Alas, now they serve as just a rather grotesque decoration."

"Have you ever thought of rediscovering the magic of your ancestors?" I asked curiously. "The Valyrians had so many magical abilities. Surely, you can seek to restore some of them."

Rhaegar shook his head. "Magic doesn't work like that. You are either born to it or you are not. Of course, there are some cheap tricks you can learn that will give you the illusion of magic but true power can only be gifted by the gods." He then looked at me curiously. "What about you?"

I wasn't sure what his question was but I decided to deflect the answer. "I have thought often of the legends associated with my other bloodline," I said. "According to lore, the Storm Kings of old wielded a mighty hammer called Fury which endowed its wielder with superhuman strength, stamina and the ability to summon lightning. I suppose when I get older, I would like to go on a quest to seek it."

"That would be a fun quest," said Rhaegar. "Mayhaps, I might join you in it. In any case, I shall review my books to find any mention of it. If only I could locate my book on prophecies! That is always a good place to begin."

I kept my face straight, trying not to look guilty. For that was one of the books I had stolen from the prince before we became friends.

Dragonstone was not a huge island, about 40 miles long and 10 miles in width. On the western side, there was a harbour leading to a beach, with a small town nearby. A long path led uphill to the mighty fortress, which also faced westward. On the east of the island, there was a volcano and most of the land was barren and rocky, with small patches of grass and woodlands and scattered villages of fisherfolk.

But what struck me as we were received by a welcoming party that followed us through the town up to the castle, was that a large majority of the people in the island, the commonfolk and the garrison, appeared to have the standard Targaryen appearance – platinum blonde hair, purple eyes, and sharp attractive features. When I remarked on that, Rhaegar explained to me they were called dragonseed, like me, the offspring of Targaryen lords that were bastards, many from even before Aegon's Conquest.

"There is magic here," I breathed wondrously when I crossed through the gateway into the black stone castle. The vibration was getting stronger and I suddenly knew what this meant: it was time for me to learn something new…

Fire.

If I didn't unlock Fire here in Dragonstone, an island with a castle made of magic and fire with a volcano, then I may as well give up on it.

But there was one problem, I still hadn't completely mastered Air yet.

As I flew, I was astounded by how different the world looked through the eyes of a stag. My field of vision was broader and I could see movements sharper although some colours and some details were harder to perceive. My sense of smell was also a thousand times stronger and at that moment I was following my nose to the source of the sulfur and brimstone smell that pervaded the island.

The transformation hadn't been easy and took nearly a week of single-minded focus to get there.

I focused very clearly on the form I had wanted to assume, a majestic silver stag with antlers like Prongs from my memories of a different life but with massive silver wings. I knew from my previous life that the creature I was imagining was called a Peryton, a mythical winged stag that was supposed to be native to the mythical land of Atlantis.

But it took me over a hundred attempts to achieve the transformation. The reason being I was focusing too much on the detail and too little on the wind. Again, the answer was to surround myself in wind and then will the transformation. The transformation magic was deribed by the element and not from me - different to Self-Transfiguration or Animagus Transformation - and once I realised that, it was very straightforward. I was master of the element and the element contained the magic.

As a winged stag, I could cover great distances in short times, although I had to take care not to fly too high to be visible from the castle or too near the smaller settlements or else someone there would see me.

Unsurprisingly, the source of the smell was the volcano and when I reached its foot, I transformed back to human form. There were villages at the foot of the volcano, mainly comprising of fisherfolk. And there were tunnels leading to the interior of the volcano - these tunnels were fascinating, and filled with obsidian, mainly black obsidian, but also a few rarer colours such as green, red and purple as well. So, I decided to collect small samples of each different colour, for no better reason than that they looked pretty and I thought I could fashion a necklace for Hermione.

But the moment I touched a chunk of green obsidian, the vibration within me amplified and suddenly my hands were covered in green flames. I dropped the obsidian in shock and the flames dissipated instantly. Frowning, I reached for a red obsidian and this time I was expecting it as red flames appeared on my hand. They felt hotter than the green flames from before but the heat didn't matter to me. Moreover, while the green flames had been like a peaceful relaxed pool of flames in which my hand was drenched, the red flames formed into a perfect sphere of a fireball that was eager to be released.

I tried again with purple obsidian, and I gasped as intense energy gathered in my hand and spread out like a shield or a ward or a force field of some kind. I dropped the purple obsidian and reached for ordinary black obsidian. Nothing happened at first so I focused and soon I saw a flame appear on top of my palm, in an ordinary orange and yellow colour. As I focused, the flame grew in size, illuminating the cave, and I instinctively changed its shape, like I would with wind, but this time with fire, to transform it into a sphere, like I had conjured earlier, although the chaotic nature of these flames meant it wasn't as perfect a fireball as the one created by the red obsidian but I could do other things with this, such as transform it into a fire whip, and then into a fire lasso.

And that was when I saw it, the tiniest chunk of white obsidian.

I released the black chunk in my hand and rushed to the white obsidian. Taking a deep breath, I grasped it.

A blinding white light shot out of the obsidian aimed straight at the wall of the cave and I flinched, fearing that it might break, for such was the intensity of the light. But the wall didn't break – in my grasp, the white beam of light steadied and was focused like a laser beam but I wasn't sure what it was doing until my vision adjusted to the bright light and I gasped when I saw the wall.

Once made of ordinary stone, a section of the wall about a few inches in diameter was now glistening spectacularly as a bedazzling display of diamonds – not one huge diamond but thousands of diamonds interlinked against each other, like each individual stone piece had transformed into a diamond on contact with the white beam of light.

I moved the beam slightly and gasped as I saw before my eyes the stone where the light came into contact went through a chain of transformations. First, the stone simply fixed itself, remaking any holes and gaps and erasing any imperfections. Then, it transformed into some marble-like substance and then the longer I left the beam on, it started transforming into diamonds. Wanting to test this further, I directed the light towards a small chunk of black obsidian and it transformed, first into red, then purple, then green, and then white obsidian.

Swiftly, I took out a metal clasp on my belt and tossed it on the floor and aimed the white light at it. The next moment, the metal had transformed into pure shining gold.

So, obsidian was a conductor for fire magic, I mused, and each different coloured obsidian had a different property of fire manipulation. Black obsidian allowed you to conjure and manipulate flames. Red obsidian allowed you to create fireballs and perhaps had other offensive fire-based magic. Green obsidian appeared to be more peaceful but what exactly could it do, I wasn't sure yet. Purple obsidian used the energy of fire to create shields or wards. White obsidian, perhaps the most brilliant of them all, purified objects to a higher state.

The problem was, I noted, other than black obsidian I wasn't able to control the others just yet and they automatically came into effect upon contact with my skin. So, for the time being, I tore some cloth from the sleeve of my jersey and used it to collect the different coloured obsidian and tied it within the cloth, to keep from having contact with my naked skin.

And then, I returned.

I hesitatingly joined the prince for dinner. While I had dined plenty of times by now with Rhaegar, this would be the first occasion with other important guests and I wasn't certain of protocol.

"Ah, Harren, you are late but no matter, the food is still on its way," Rhaegar glanced at me, instantly putting me at ease that I was expected. For all his flaws – arrogance being foremost – he was rather charming when he was in the mood for it. "Allow me to introduce you to the foremost of my banners – House Velaryon traces its ancestry to Valyria just like our own ancestors."

I glanced at the gathered group and took a sharp breath.

"Ser Lucius and Lady Narcissa Velaryon and their son Draco Velaryon," said Rhaegar.

I smiled at them and managed to mumble something polite as I took in the shock of meeting the counterparts of the Malfoys.

"Lady Narcissa's great-uncle, Lord Arcturus Velaryon has been unable to make the journey due to his failing health but as his heir, young Draco stands in his proxy," said Rhaegar.

Ah, I mused, so the Malfoys were not the Velaryons but rather the Blacks. That made more sense; an ancient and noble house, now fading in might. Draco looked about Hermione's age, a couple of years older than me, but Lucius and Narcissa didn't look too old – they appeared to be in the prime of their youth. Perhaps, their marriage too had taken place at a young age. I wondered what had happened to the counterpart of Sirius in this world but wasn't sure how to raise the topic.

Dinner was simple yet delicious. Fish was the common fare in Dragonstone and we had platters of grilled lobsters, prawns and fishes of various kinds, with seeded bread and a lemon and butter sauce. I decided, as I finished my lobster, that this was the kind of life I could become used to.

"Harren, why don't you show young Draco around the fortress while I discuss some more mundane affairs with Ser Lucius and Lady Narcissa?" asked Rhaegar.

Draco looked at me haughtily and Ser Lucius seemed to agree as he turned to the prince. "Pardon, your highness, I hardly think it is appropriate for a bastard to be escort to the heir of Driftmark."

"I understand, Ser Lucius," said Rhaegar, as a glint of steel came to his eyes. While he might previously have agreed with such a sentiment, he was now defensive of me due to our new friendship. "I shall let my father know that his chosen cupbearer was deemed inappropriate by the future steward of Driftmark who hides his own family name behind that of his good-father's name."

Lady Narcissa spoke out almost immediately. "Your highness, please, we meant no disrespect and if any offence was caused, we beg your kind forgiveness. My son Draco will be delighted to be escorted by umm…" She glanced at me, clearly having forgotten my name.

"Harren Storm," I said.

"Nay, forget it," Rhaegar waved a hand dismissively. "Harren, you are free to do as you please. Draco can wait for us here while we conclude our private discussions."

I didn't need a second invite and hastily retreated from the dining hall, aware of the hateful eyes of Draco Malfoy and his father on me as I left.

In the privacy of my chamber, I looked at the chunks of obsidian with fascination. Wizards in my original life used wands with a magical core inside it and I had also been to a different universe where the wizards of that world used staffs with some kind of substance, usually a crystal, at the top from which they drew or channelled energy. These obsidian chunks were just like those items, they allowed me to channel the fire elemental powers within me, for it wasn't as natural to me as Air was. But because the obsidian were different, they each drew on a different type of energy.

I used the green obsidian again and once again I had a pool of warm green flames around my hands. I tried releasing it but the green flames refused to budge, happy to stay around my hands, moving in a wave-like formation from right to left on top and from left to right on the bottom. Out of instinct, I touched a wooden chair with the flames but nothing happened. The flames passed through the chair to appear on the other side with no effect whatsoever. Sighing, I left the green chunk and picked up the black obsidian again. This was the easiest – for it didn't materialise in an uncontrolled manner – I could summon at will, whilst touching the black obsidian, flames that bent to my will.

I smiled when a butterfly made solely of flames emerged from the palm of my hand and flew away to the ceiling before it fizzled away. Then, I pulled wind and the fires in the two torches in my chamber vanished and when I snapped my fingers, one was relit and then the other. With a smile I looked at the obsidian chunk. I needed to have the black obsidian on me at all times. The rest of them – well, I needed to figure something out – a wizard's staff was out of question for now.

And the answer was simple, I could have them embedded into a custom weapon. The only problem was my weapon would need to be something that would be fit for use when I grew up and was bigger.

So, I wandered out to the courtyard and asked a guard for directions. The blacksmith was at the foot of the armoury tower and when I approached it, I was quite impressed by the stockpile of weapons in the Dragonstone armoury. Not the quantity as such – for Storm's End easily had twice or thrice the amount – but the quality. Every sword and every shield was a work of fine craftsman, worthy of any decent knight, whereas most castle armouries kept in stock basic weapons for lowly soldiers and guards.

"Can I help ya, little master?"

I looked at the wizened old man with white hair and couldn't help myself. "Ollivander," I blurted out.

"That is my name," he looked surprised.

I caught myself. "Yes, yes, one of the guards told me," I lied. "I was wondering if you could make a custom design for me."

The blacksmith looked slightly irritated. "I am the master blacksmith of Dragonstone. Can I make a custom design for you? Of course, I can. But will I? That is a different matter altogether."

"I can pay you," I said suddenly. "I can pay you in gold. Please, I really want a weapon with these colourful stones studded in." I showed the torn cloth on which I had placed the chunks of obsidian.

The blacksmith looked at me as if trying to peer into my spirit. Finally, he said. "No, not gold, that is not what I want, although if you make a donation of your own accord, I shall not say no. The payment I want for my services is a favour. A favour for a weapon, that I may ask at any time following delivery of the weapon to your satisfaction."

I didn't like the idea of owing favours to anyone but the appeal of having easy access to the full range of my fire elemental potential was too strong. "Deal," I said.

"Good, good, come inside, then, Master Harren," he said, and I was so excited it didn't even occur to me that I hadn't given him my name.

There were seven forges, one massive one in the middle, and three smaller ones on either side. All kinds of metallic objects were lying around and I looked in fascination as Ollivander lit the massive forge in the middle.

"While the forge heats up, tell me what design you have in mind."

I took out a parchment where I had made a rough drawing. "Two identical swords, sleek but firm, hilts made of dragon bone, if you can get one from the dungeons, studded with obsidian of every colour, and a scabbard to sling them on my back, made of black obsidian." Speed was what I wanted to incorporate into my fighting style, not strength, and so sleek swords would be more useful to quickly end fights using my magic.

"That's three favours, not one," said Ollivander.

I sighed and nodded.

Ollivander glanced at me in silence and then he said, "Popular knowledge is that the secret of Valyrian steel is long lost."

I tried not to yawn. It had been a long day and manipulating fire took more out of me than wind so I was not in the mood for a lecture.

"But everyone is agreed that the process involves steel, magic and fire," said Ollivander. "Now, you might not be so inclined and that is alright, I shan't use one of my favours on this, but if you were of mind, we could experiment together, me with steel and fire and you with magic and fire, and we shall see if we can recreate the lost art of making Valyrian steel."

I glanced at Ollivander silently. What had I said or done that would give away to him that I had magic? Nothing came to mind so I stayed silent, wondering if he too was magical.

"Like you, I too am descended from the Targaryens through a bastard line," said Ollivander. "Many a long age ago shortly after Aegon's Conquest, an Ollivander took to bed a Targaryen bastard, and moments before childbirth, the girl gave a prophecy: the secret of the steel of Valyria shall be restored by the one who yearns to wield lightning; he shall seek a child of my child, carrying stones of many colours; and with steel, fire and magic, the secret of the sword of Valyria shall be restored."

"The secret of the sword of Valyria," I mused. "You think that means the technique of making Valyrian steel?"

"What else could it be?" asked Ollivander. "I see you do not seem surprised by my mention of magic or prophecy."

I sighed. I didn't want to share my secret but I would need allies at some stage and Ollivander was probably as good as any I could hope for. "I was born with magic," I told him. "Elenei's gift, through my father's blood," I raised a hand and a hammer flew from the wall where it was hung to my hand. I then released it and flew back to its rightful place. "And the magic of Valyria from my mother's blood." This time I touched a black obsidian and snapped my fingers and the flames in the forge grew threefold in size and heat.

As I turned to the gobsmacked Ollivander, I said cheekily, "I think your forge is hot enough now."

Experimenting with Ollivander was more fun and educational than I had expected. When I showed him the green flames, he too had been mystified but when he tentatively reached for the green flames, to both our amazement, some of the calluses and cuts in his hand started healing. He then eagerly showed an elbow which had a burn mark and when I touched it with the green flames, the skin became as good as new. The green obsidian had the healing power of fire.

With the red fireball, he asked me to create a tiny fireball and send it to the unlit forges. He was hoping the forge would become lit but to our shock, even with a fireball no bigger in size than a gold coin, there was a loud explosion and one of his forges was destroyed utterly.

We then tried it with the purple flames. I allowed the flames to grow in size to create a wall of energy that surrounded one of the unbroken forges, and then Ollivander tried attacking it with many different kinds of weapons, none of them could pierce the purple energy shield, and when I sent a fire ball, I felt the shield waver but it held on, and then I sent progressively bigger fireballs until finally a fireball the size of a large pumpkin destroyed the purple shield but was also dissipated in the process, leaving the forge behind untouched.

So, black was plain fire, red was explosive fire bombs, green was healing fire and purple was energy shields.

But it was the white beam that was of most interest to Ollivander. When I directed the white beam into the broken forge, it first started making the broken rubble whole again – not in the rough form it had been but just as bricks that could be layered again and then I kept the beam on one small stone for a while longer, it transformed into a cluster of diamonds and disintegrated into small diamond pieces.

"Your payment," I said.

"Forget diamonds," Ollivander's eyes were shining with delight. "How does it impact steel?"

I sighed. "It turns all metals into gold," I said.

Ollivander made an irritated sound. "Steel isn't a metal boy, it is an alloy made of iron and carbon, the latter of which is not a metal."

We experimented; I directed the white beam at a steel sword, and initially we were ecstatic as the colour of the steel started changing but then the sword turned into gold. We were disappointed – which was ironical given the sword was worth a fortune that could set us both for comfortable lives but we were hoping to recreate a forgotten magic, to fulfil prophecy, and this wasn't sufficient.

"I have been musing all night on our last experiment. The problem, as I see it," said Ollivander, when I joined him for our third day of experiments, "is that steel has altogether too much metal in it that the purifying properties of the white obsidian cannot look beyond that and transforms it into gold. There is a simple solution to this. Do you see it?"

I shook my head. I was never one for crafting or artificing. The patience needed to get it right escaped me – I was always more for the practical side of things. Experiments were fine so long as I was allowed to avoid the theoretical discourse and get straight to the practicalities.

"We need to create a new alloy reducing the amount of iron," said Ollivander, clapping his hands excitedly. "Now, let's be methodical about this. What do we know about Valyrian steel?"

"They are significantly lighter, stronger and sharper than any other sword and do not lose their qualities even after many centuries of use," I said.

"Yes, yes, but more precisely, it is sharper than any other steel and can even cut through stone," said Ollivander. "What other substance do we know that has this property?"

"Diamond." But that wasn't what Ollivander was looking for. I raised both eyebrows in realisation. "Obsidian," I said.

"Yes!" he was cheering. "My newfound respect for this material just doesn't seem to cease. We need to create a new alloy of steel which includes obsidian and hopefully then when you purify it, it transforms into Valyrian steel."

"Use all five colours," I said suddenly. "Black, red, green, purple and white. Perhaps, I wouldn't need them to be studded into the hilt then."

"The only issue," Ollivander's cheer was beginning to fade, "is that I do not think my forge is hot enough to melt obsidian. It has a much higher sufferance than metals." He nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense actually, for dragonfire is often considered the secret ingredient that the Valyrians used to create such weapons. Unless…"

I looked at him eagerly.

"You must do exactly as I say," said Ollivander. "Create a protected box using purple obsidian. Just enough to cover the forge. Leave the top open for now."

While I held the protective fire shield, he walked closer and placed a significant amount of obsidian lying around in the workshop – all black obsidian – and then the spare chunks of coloured obsidian I had and then he hastily walked back.

"Okay, now you have to do this very carefully," said Ollivander. "Have a shield to cover the top of the box ready but don't close it yet – then create a fireball that was about the size you had last created and then drop it into the cauldron and then close the box."

"Will it work?" I asked in hesitation.

"It may not," he admitted. "But we won't know until we try."

I grinned excitedly. This was more my kind of experimenting. I did as Ollivander said, taking a step back just as the fire ball was dropped and I closed the lid.

The sound of the explosion was dampened by the box but the intensity was barely contained, as the floor shook with the contents of the workshop and both Ollivander and I were thrown several feet away.

Ollivander cursed as he staggered to his feet. I gasped when I saw him, a crimson pool was forming on his shoulder. "I landed on the sharp edge of an axe. You wouldn't mind, would you?" I hastily rushed to his side, grabbing a green obsidian to heal his injury.

"Perfect," said Ollivander. "You are fine? No injuries? Good, good. Let's see what we have now."

The fireball had once again dissipated the fire shield and I rushed to the forge, strangely undestroyed this time as if the fireball spent its ferocious energy on the application I had in mind, that is, to heat the obsidian, and the obsidian had all melted into the molten steel, turning it into a mystical silver-purple colour.

I watched Ollivander work for some time but then I got bored as he waited for the molten to cool down so I decided to leave him to it.

As I wandered around the mighty fortress, I saw Rhaegar walking about with the Castellan and Commander of the Garrison, making important decisions that would affect the fate of every inhabitant in the island and potentially some of their neighbours, and I wondered if someday I would become lord of a holdfast too.

I laughed as I realised I was being silly. Who cared about holdfasts. True power was already within my grasp in the magic that I wielded.

"I am sorry!" I yelped as I quickly rushed out of the chamber.

It was dawn and I had just woken up when a servant had passed on a message that Prince Rhaegar had urgently summoned me and I was to go straight to his chamber. Except, when I got there, I knocked and walked right in, worried what might have caused such an urgent message, when I saw he wasn't alone. Lady Narcissa Malfoy was on her knees on the bed looking in my general direction while Prince Rhaegar was fucking her from behind like a dog, while grabbing her breast in one hand and a fistful of hair in his other hand. On my arrival there was a moment of stillness and barely a moment after my exclamation, Rhaegar's booming voice followed.

"Harren, come back at once!"

I hesitated before stepping back inside, keeping my eyes closed as I used wind to guide my steps. "I am sorry," I said again.

"How dare you!" Lady Narcissa was beyond incensed. "We should have your head for violating the privacy of the crown prince's chambers."

"M'lady, that would bring the ire of my father on not just me but also your house. Allow me to deal with punishment and ensuring my bastard cousin keeps his mouth shut," said Rhaegar. He then leaned closer and kissed her on the lips. "Alas, the moment is lost. You must now return to your husband lest he misses you and becomes suspicious."

I stepped to a side as Narcissa glared daggers at me as she walked out. "I am sorry, your highness," I began. "I didn't know… I was summoned… I don't understand…"

Rhaegar laughed as he casually put on his robes, unfazed by his nakedness before me. "Apple?" he asked, tossing an apple from a fruit bowl to me.

I created a wind channel, allowing it to fall in my hands easily, but I didn't want to eat it, not knowing where Rhaegar's hands had been during his tryst with Narcissa Velaryon.

Rhaegar nodded with interest at the sudden curve of the apple. "I hope one day our friendship and trust will grow to the point we will share our deepest secrets." I bit my lips and he didn't press the issue. "The events of this morning might help strengthen that friendship a bit more. I have a… thing for attractive women that are of high birth – servants, smallfolk and whores, even if they are as attractive don't matter as much to me. You may report to my father that you discovered me in carnal activities with Lady Narcissa Velaryon, whose son is heir to Lord Arcturus as the next head of House Velaryon. You may add that Lucius Velaryon is a proud and haughty man and if he discovers this, he would perceive it as a grave insult to his honour and you would not put it past him to plot against the Iron Throne. My appetite for attractive highborn women is the weakness that you should bring to the king's attention."

"Won't you get in trouble with the King?" I asked curiously.

"Ha," said Rhaegar. "Despite your recent closeness, you do not understand my father like I do. He is volatile and suspicious but when he believes something, his heart is true, and if there is one thing he believes above all else, it is that Targaryens are above all others. He will reprimand me for it would be what is required of him but he would not see it much more than a Targaryen prince seeing something he liked and reaching out for it, as is our birthright. Privately, he would be proud of me for doing so and find a way to reward me without making clear the reason for doing so."

"Thank you," I said.

"Now, tell me," he began as we walked out of his chambers. "You have been here a few weeks. What do you make of Dragonstone? What can I do to make my realm… well, for lack of a better word, better?"

I hesitated. "Dragonstone lacks three essential things that would have helped make it a strong and prosperous realm: fertile land, sufficient population and tradable resources."

"Aye," said Rhaegar. "There is very little I can do about the first and the last, and without them, the second also becomes difficult to improve."

I shook my head. "You have plenty of resources. Your fisheries are amongst the best but Duskendale, Maidenpool and King's Landing have a better advantage that they are in the mainland so it is faster, easier and cheaper for them to transport fresh fish. I am not sure how you can compete against them but there must be a way. Also, Dragonstone is the only place where obsidian is found, and believe me, people haven't realised yet but I think it has great value. But forget both of them –" I leaned closer conspiratorially. "I was waiting for the right time to tell you – a few days ago I had wandered down to the caves beneath Dragonmont."

"That isn't safe!" Rhaegar protested.

"Yes, and you aren't my mother," I pointed out.

Rhaegar paused and nodded. "Fair point."

"I found –" I swallowed uneasily before taking out from my pocket a large chunk of diamond with a number of smaller pieces.

"Are these diamonds?" he asked breathlessly.

"A tiny drop of what is beneath Dragonmont," I said. "I saw an entire cave wall made of diamonds. I didn't see any more than just that but what I saw was enough to kickstart the economy of Dragonstone."

"All this time, we had been sitting on top of a diamond mine?"

I didn't respond, allowing him to draw what conclusion he wanted. He would see the cave and start mining but after that one cave wall, he wouldn't find any more since I hadn't transformed more stone into diamonds. But at least - that would be sufficient to boost the economy of Dragonstone by a prudent lord.

"This will transform Dragonstone entirely," said Rhaegar, excitedly. "In exchange for the news I gave you to give to father, may I be the one who takes credit for locating the diamonds? Just this small amount will clear away all remaining debts owed by the Iron Throne."

I nodded. "As you said, one step closer to building trust in our friendship." I paused. "I do have one boon to ask."

"Go for it."

"May I keep these diamonds?" I asked, showing the ones I held. "The Blacksmith Ollivander has been teaching me some of his craft and I would like to fashion earrings out of these to give to –" I stopped abruptly.

"Go on, who is this maiden who has taken your fancy?" asked Rhaegar teasingly.

"Just a smallfolk maiden who helps out in the bakery business I sponsored," I said.

"You are quite an industrious young man, aren't you?" Rhaegar laughed. "Spy, warrior, musician, merchant, diamond miner and blacksmith."

"I am also a bastard," I reminded him. "So, I must do what I can to build a worthy life for me."

"Then, if I may," said Rhaegar, softly. "This girl who works in a bakery… by all means, enjoy her company while you can but she is not the one who will take you to your worthy life. You must marry a maiden who will bring to you a holdfast of your own or else you will never amount to more than a landless knight."

I looked away.

"Now, what is this I hear about a new sword forged of Valyrian steel?" asked Rhaegar.

"It isn't Valyrian steel as much as a new alloy of steel which makes it nearly as good as Valyrian steel," I said, after all, we used my fire ball whereas the Valyrians probably used dragonfire, and we used all five colours of obsidian, whereas Ollivander and I came to the conclusion that the Valyrians probably only used black obsidian. That made my twin swords even better than any Valyrian steel sword out there for not only did they contain greater potential but I also purified the alloy with the white purifying beam after Ollivander had finished the swords. "We are calling it Ollivander Steel."

That had transformed the swords completely.

The silver-purple hues had faded and it looked like plain steel except it was even lighter, stronger and sharper than Valyrian steel and obsidian. And when I wielded it, I could activate the fire elemental power of any of the five obsidians at my will.

We had decided against claiming we had recreated Valyrian steel as that would just cause strife with the nobles who might want to preserve the knowledge to make their family heirlooms all the more rare and exotic but by claiming it was an entirely new design, we allowed them to live under the illusion that they still had a superior sword but at the same time the value of the swords built by Ollivander had grown together with his reputation.

He had enough molten to create seven swords and he had claimed that was sufficient for him. Two were for me, one he would gift Prince Rhaegar, for that would be the apt thing to do, and the final four he would sell to the highest bidders, keep half the gold, and give the other half to the treasury of Dragonstone. If ever he needed more gold, he would sell the diamonds and the golden sword that our experiments had produced. I would later learn that the four swords would be purchased by: Lord Steffon Baratheon for his second son Stannis, one by the Citadel at Oldtown to study its properties, one by the Princess of Dorne and the final one by a merchant from Pentos with no forwarding name. Ollivander had offered to share a portion of the profits with me but I had declined - what need did I had for gold when I could literally transform any metal into gold and stone into diamonds?

But when Rhaegar touched the subject, I led him to my chamber and showed him, the scabbard with the two swords, magnificent to look at, and when I held them, a glint of silver and purple rushed through the steel and Rhaegar's eyes widened in shock and he took an involuntary step back.

I was slightly surprised and when I made a slashing motion, Rhaegar was completely taken aback by it and jumped back in shock and horror. So, I mused, the swords were capable of neutralising whatever precog ability that Rhaegar Targaryen possessed. That was good to know.

"These are impressive," he finally said, although he was looking at them with just a hint of fear.

Author's Note: I have amended the chapter slightly. Earlier, I had the twin swords in the shape of lightning bolts - but in retrospect (and not least because a dozen reviewers pointed out), that would make it very impractical in a real fight. The whole point was to make something unusual - not a big part of the plot anyway - but it seemed to be distracting readers so have changed it now.

Also, some of you have expressed concern that Hermione will be treated the same way as Elya in "Archmage of Arda" but rest assured, that is not my intention. :)

Please do review.