Disclaimer I own nothing, but the OC Game of thrones is owned by George RR. Martin
Light lit up a cold forge hidden beneath the red keep. The skulls of dragons helped obscure a hidden room to an ancient secret. Within the hidden room was a forge large enough to hold a dragon. When the Targaryen family made this place home, they still knew how to forge valyrian steel. The heat required and the magical fire needed was deadly to a normal person. Only a Targaryen, a dragon, could withstand the heat required to turn normal steel into valyrian steel. The intense process trapped mana into the iron creating an impure substance that didn't quite belong in the material world. Due to its unique state it didn't age. To call such a substance steel at all was wrong.
It took some time, but Jack managed to smuggle a large supply of coal, iron, and clay down here to his little smithy. Though the world was different his soul still effected the world around him. After hours of banging a hammer against a piece of heated iron. Jack finally gained the Blacksmith skill. In his former life Jack never bothered learning the skill. It wasn't his role. He had a friend who took up that role. Jack had to admit he was a poor substitute for someone who devoted their entire being to forging weaponry.
Jackus had his advantages. Though he wasn't immune to fire, he was resistant. His health pool made his body nearly indestructible. Small arms had little to no effect on him. The monster of the Baratheon family was one tough customer. He was certain that with rest he could work all day down here or night as it were.
A week later, he began to get the skill down. He quenched the blade in human blood just as the ancient Valyrians had done. Only his human blood wasn't from a living person. Jack was a mage in his past life and held all the skill of one in this one. Producing mana and filling the blood with it was a basic skill. His latest attempt at creating a valyrian steel blade had come with mixed results. He infused so much magic in the blade that it couldn't be sharpened. The blade didn't exist in the material plane as much as the immaterial. Great for killing ghosts, horrible for people.
Three weeks later, he had finally gotten he mixture right. Unfortunately, once the blade hardened whatever edge the blade held would remain. Jack would have to sharpen it before the quenching while the blade was still relatively soft. He was running out of murderers and the occasional rapist. If he wanted to continue his work, he would have to find more volunteers.
He had plenty of time before his uncle's name day. There was no need to rush. Mystical flame appeared between his fingertips as he lit the forge. He pulled the billows to stoke the magical flame and shoveled in coal. The fire needed to be very hot to infuse iron with mana. It needed to be even hotter to infuse the nature of fire itself into steel. Then it needed to quench in life to hold that infusion. If he added mana to the blood and then quenched it the blade would be too magical. It would only effect magic and not the material world. So, he couldn't double dip.
Finally, three months after the start, he had done it. He held in his hand a freshly quenched sharpened chunk of valyrian steel. His Blacksmith skill tree had nearly maxed out from just focusing on forging. He could go on and try to gain the enchanting skill tree. A valyrian steel had its own base mana pool. That meant the pool when empty will recover. Better yet it seemed to be a fluid pool. With time the pool of mana the blade held would increase and enchantments could be added to the weapon. He placed the valyrian steel blade to the side. He already had a hilt picked out for a forged its guard a few nights before. It would be a name day gift for his uncle Jaime.
Now was the time to forge a Warhammer for his father. Most would consider it a waste of valyrian steel. Isn't the weight of the weapon the point? Well Jack would say mass times acceleration equals force. If something is lighter the user can swing it faster. Speed is often the deciding factor in combat. So, the Warhammer might be half as heavy as his father's. That didn't matter it was valyrian steel it's hardness alone would allow it to rip through enemy armor without taking any damage.
Jaime looked at a sword that appeared in his quarters with a note that said to uncle Jaime form your nephew Jackus. Jaime raised the hilted blade and marveled at how light it was. Almost like it was, no it couldn't be. The discovery of a new blade would have surely become common gossip. He pulled it from its sheath. Maybe it was a joke. The sheath after all was excellent and would fit his current blade. It may be just a handle and hilt with no blade.
He pulled the blade free and nearly dropped it. On the hilt was the stamp of a lion and a stag. It was imprinted in the steel. As he pulled the blade free, he marveled at how light it really was. Jaime Lannister the owner of a valyrian steel blade. It was his name day, and this was quite a present but where did he get it. Jaime quickly tied the weapon to his belt and stepped out of the room.
After making his way to the king's chambers, he knocked before entering. There he saw the king with a room full of whores. The room smelled of boos and sex. The King's Warhammer lay on a pedestal in the room. The king's groggy eyes opened.
"Jaime what is it? Why did you wake me so early in the morning? There had better be an invading army knocking on our door." King Robbert Baratheon said.
"I'm afraid not my king this matter concerns your son and his recent exploits." Jaime said.
"Did Joffrey torture another animal to death? No that's hardly news. Tommon and Myrcella aren't sick or hurt are they." Robbert asked his body moving to rise.
"No, my niece and nephew are doing quite well hopefully playing in the garden it is a nice day." Jaime said.
"Then out with it what has Jackus done?" Robbert asked. Jaime took his sheathed sword from his belt and handed it to the king.
"Is it's a joke blade? I didn't rule him out for the type." Robbert muttered.
"No, your grace it's a brand new Valyrian steel sword if I'm correct. It may have been forged days ago." The king pulled the sword and looked it over.
"Your right it must have been forged by him. It isn't fancy but it is a valyrian steel blade alright." He slashed it through the air a few times with the ease a man would a willow wand. "You can't say no to his gift. My son may look somewhat scary but I'm certain he put a lot of care in his gift." Robbert said. Jaime's expression turned troubled. He remembered attempting to spar with the boy. If Jackus Baratheon inherited one thing from his father, it was strength. Combined that with the ability to hold two great swords with two hands each and you started to see something dangerous. The boy once held two tower shields and two short spears with his upper arms. It was like fighting two people at once.
"I'll find someone to spar with in the practice yard. If he wakes up soon, he'll see me with his blade in hand." Jaime said. "Now, your grace by your leave."
"Out with you and make sure the boy sees you swinging that blade. Can't have him moping Cercie wouldn't let me hear the end of it."
Months passed and his gift was well received. Jaime handled his knew sword well. The lighter weight allowed him to swing it faster. Jack hefted his father's name day gift in his hands. He twirled it between his two right hands. It was as heavy only half that of his father's original Warhammer. Jack narrowed the end of the hammer to concentrate the force on a much smaller point. This would make the hammer even deadlier. When force is distributed over a smaller distance it is more devastating. Hefting the hammer over his shoulder he slammed it against an anvil with a good portion of his strength. A loud ringing sound echoed through the catacombs and the iron anvil warped making an imprint of the hammer. The new hammer was sturdy if Jack's strength hadn't damaged it then his father's might couldn't.
A knock on the door behind him revealed one of the slipperiest men he had met. "Ah Spider Varys, what has brought you to the catacombs?" Jack asked.
"I'll admit I'm curious what the crown prince is doing down here instead of up above enjoying the tourney. Your father's name day is tomorrow shouldn't you spend your time with him?" Varys asked. Jack hefted the hammer and tossed it the spy master. The man caught it and fell to the ground the hammer too heavy even half the weight of his father's.
Jack quickly stopped the hammer and so the man's descent. "I'm sorry, I've been working with it for the last few months. I forget sometimes that things that are light to me may not be so light to others. Are you alright?" For a time, Varys lost his cool and Jack knew it. Slowly Varys got to a straight standing position.
"Light yes the way you tossed it. You deceived me, I believed a weapon wielded by a 13-name day old wouldn't be quite so heavy. I forget that you are special my prince." Varys said.
"I'm sorry Lord Varys for my actions it was childish inexperience. I knew in theory that is should be heavy, but I've been so used to it." Jack said. Varys took a deep breath.
"You are forgiven my prince this time. Mind others what if it had been one of your brothers or seven forbid your sister. I can only advise you its up to you my prince to take my words to heart." Jack nodded his head all good humor gone. He had been down here too long. He would distance himself from forging for a while and reconnect with his family. His family must miss him. Had he become a stranger to them, that thing that bangs a hammer in the dark of the catacombs where the dragon skulls watch.
"I've worked enough down here for some time. I will distance myself from my work for a time. Thank you for helping me realize that Varys." Jack said. The spider looked at him oddly.
"I did not mean you should stop forging. Thought I've had to work hard to keep rumor of your talent for creating valyrian steel a secret. Your talent is one that hasn't been seen in centuries." Varys said.
Jack closed all three eyes and took a deep breath. "The point of forging was to make uncle Jaime a new sword and father a new Warhammer. Now that both projects are complete, I'll find something else to occupy my time. Perhaps, farming I've heard talk of father giving me some land when I come of age. Hopefully, he'll live a long life and remain king well into his sixties. That could give me 20 years of time to manage multiple farming communities. That's more than enough time to get good." Jack said. Varys looked at him oddly.
"Yes, may the king live a long and happy life of course. But would that truly make you happy running a few farms even farming yourself. Do you have no desire to rule?" Jack had to think about that. Did he want to be king? He burst out laughing.
"Rule this kingdom. I could and I would be good at it. More than likely it will pass to Joffery or Tommen. Have you seen my face Varys? The people will tolerate a lot, but they won't tolerate someone who looks like me. Who would want to rule such shallow people anyway?" Jack asked and clasped the man's back gently. He tucked the Warhammer on his back and smiled to the man. "I'm the last one who wants this kingdom." Jack said.
"That isn't very Lannister of you. What if taking power was the only way to ensure your families safety?" Varys said. Jack had no idea what the man was on about. The spider was known for his neutrality.
"Do yourself a favor Varys don't be my friend. You'll make more enemies than friends backing me. If my father dies early. No one will back me for king." Jack said. He walked away whistling a tune reminiscent of the rains of Castamere.
He walked out towards the stands. When people saw him disrobed, they stared. Jack wore only his pants and the hammer on his back. They the people of kings landing saw his appearance. The rumors were always there since his birth they had persisted. Now some of the rumors were realized as fact while others remained fiction. They whispered and schemed, his mother watching him with unreadable eyes while his sister and youngest brother graced him with a smile. He nodded to them. Joffrey looked a second away from voiding his bowels. As Jack moved about in broad daylight fearlessly, he heard rumors of demons.
Stannis looked at him with eyes like his mother his daughter Shireen was with him and offered a smile and a wave. Jack smiled a closed mouth smile and waved back overhead. It looked ridiculous but Jack didn't care, he chose to enjoy his family and damn embarrassment. His father King Robbert Baratheon stood as Jack approached. When he was close enough Jack pulled the Warhammer from his back and presented it before his father.
"It is early but for your name day father a Valyrian Steel Warhammer custom made for a king." Jack said loud enough for everyone to hear. His father took the Warhammer and held it firmly in his hands. The crowd watched on as their king hefted his new weapon.
"A fine weapon, Jackus Baratheon my son sits to my right and watch the tourney with your father." Jack stood and took his place at his fathers' right hand. Whispers abounded but the message was clear there would be no more information.
Jack watched the knights battle one another. The jousted and fought but nothing really got his blood pumping. Not the way hammering a forge did. The danger, the heat, and the magic at his fingertips brought about more than a few mad creations. He hadn't just built his uncle's sword and his father's new Warhammer. He had been hard at work building himself more than a few handy items and powerful weapon.
"Boy Stannis agreed to go out with us in the morning. Jaime will guard me for the day along with a few others and we'll hitch a ride on one of the galleys. Its not too fancy but we'll have our fishing trip on blackwater bay.