The queen and Myrcella started to visit my shop frequently. Cersei started to talk more as time went on. It only seemed like a blink of an eye, but months had past. One day, during the boar man's hunting trip (ironically he was hunting boar) as the queen was visiting, chattering away at whatever was on her mind, my head felt like someone had set a fire on it. I winced at the pain, I've never felt heat like that before, the blaze of the forge felt like a gentle summer's breeze.
"Are you all right Asher? You seem in pain"
"I'm sorry Cersei, my head feels set on fire" she pondered for a minute.
"Asher, is it possible you have a twin?" a quick searing flash of the stupid whelp called my twin flashed through my mind
"It's possible, but I don't remember any."
"It's said that when one twin is hurt, the other can feel the pain, an old woman's tale no doubt, but a mysterious reason"
"Hah, well if that is the reason, the poor fool must be dead from searing heat" we both smiled and chuckled.
"There seems to be a lot of fools right now. Robert is sending people to murder a child. A Targaryen child who is pregnant with her own Dothrak child. Imagine it, a man like him scared of a young girl just because she is a Targaryen."
"I thought he killed all the Targaryen"
"He tried. Gods know he tried. Rhaella managed to run with her youngest boy, and was pregnant with a girl. So three escaped, but Rhaella died giving birth to the girl, and they ran to Essos." My heart plummeted into my stomach to hear my mother had died so tragically. I wanted her to live as an old crow hobbling around spinning tales of her time as a queen. After all she was my mother. And the pathetic whelp of a snake that shared her womb with me lived. "Well, I should return before anyone notices I'm missing. Nice to talk to you Asher."
"And you as well Cersei, get home safely."
I waited patiently for an hour to go by after she left and checked the scroll.
Surprisingly, it had grown tremendously. Interested to see if it could draw blood yet, and gasped at how well the tiny blade had sliced open my finger. I was even more shocked however, at the sight that as fast as the blade had sliced my finger, it had drank all the blood it could find. I dropped some more blood from my freshly sliced finger onto the blade. Sure enough, the blood disappeared as fast as a blink of an eye. The blood trailed through the clasp, and broke it apart, squealing from all the years of its tightly locked position. I set the fragile scroll down and started to examine the clasp's design. It was a very intricate forging technique that Rodrick had never taught me, whether it be from greed of personal knowledge or not knowing himself, I'll never know. This little intricate metal rolled in my hands. Then Rodrick's words echoed through my head, snapping my attention to the scroll. I gently set down the clasp, and picked up the scroll that hadn't been unrolled for so many years. Fear of ripping it upon opening it raced through my mind. I tenderly unraveled it as slowly and gently as absolute possible. There was only a few words on the scroll that unraveled out 8 inches lengthwise and 6 inches widthwise. The words were written surprisingly with fresh bright red blood. 'To the tunnel' well alright then, I guess I was going on an adventure to the tunnel i had avoided for so long, as it showed everything I had hated and left. I wrapped a dark cloak around my shoulders, put some flint and a torch to light under the cloak, and gently rolled the scroll up and tucked it in my sleeve. I locked the door on my way out, and slipped into the tunnel. I lit the torch with the flint, and set the lit torch in the holder. I unraveled the scroll again. The words had vanished, and the red blood had formed a new design. 'Follow me' and an arrow pointing straight ahead. What the hell was with this freak scroll? Whatever, I'm already down here, might as well follow.
I grabbed the torch in one hand, the unraveled scroll in the other, and continued into the tunnel I had hated from so long ago. I kept walking, following the scroll's directions until I stopped dead in my tracks. There was a wall barely an inch from my nose. 'Open me' what? I rolled up the scroll, and started examining the wall closely. Sure enough, there was a tiny dragon with sharp fangs tucked into a crack. I stuck my pinky finger into the dragon's mouth and it clamped down, pain searing through my hand. The rest of my hand twisted and grabbed the dragon's snout and head. I twisted and shoved its head into the wall. It released my finger, and a slab of the wall sunk in and slid to the right to reveal a new hall. A hall filled from the bottom to the ceiling with dragon eggs on the left, dragon skulls on the right. I slowly walked past them, eyeing them all, my mind greedily drinking in every detail of this long forgotten place and creatures. I reached the back of the hall, a staircase lead upwards, tugging at every instinct to turn tail and slither away at full pace like a frightened snake. But my heart's desire burning to pull me forward, no matter what the cost would be. It's a strange struggle, when your head and heart are at war over who gets to control your limbs. As if this place knew, bright red blood sprang in the wall beside me 'are you a dragon or a snake? Are you a fearsome beast or a whelp even worms would be disgusted to feast on?' these words enraged my mind, making it agree with my heart and I marched up the stairs. What I saw as I climbed the last step brought me to my knees. Brought me to my knees and tears to my eyes to be exact. A throne made out of dragon scales and bones. This must have been the old throne before the melted sword throne reigned over the land. Every inch of wall was hidden by a book. I weakly rose off my knees like a drunk man finding his feet. I grazed over the titles of the books. I found the group of forging and blacksmith books. I picked the first one of these books off the shelf, hoping whoever had put these books in place had put them in chronological order. I set the torch beside the glorious chair, and greedily sat in the chair. The book sat on my lap as my hands caressed the scales and bones. I then dusted off the spine of the book, and gingerly opened the cover.
I couldn't even try to tell you how long I was down there, lapping up the information of the first book like a dog lapping up water after trudging through a desert. The only thing that pulled me away was the warning flickers of the torch that it was going to perish. I tucked the book under my cloak, picked up my torch, and went home with a mixed sulk and smile on my face. After that I barely got sleep. My days were filled by blacksmithing by daylight, reading the books by night. I would only take one book at a time, going to the marvelous hall and room only to exchange books as to keep that place my own secret. Maybe one day I would share it with the bitch that killed my mother through child birth, if I saw fit. I looked at the scroll only once after that, as if to thank it for showing me the place. It only showed four words. 'Prepare. War is coming' war against who I wondered. Against the Lannisters? The Starks? Baratheon? The white walkers? Essos? Who the fuck is war against. About 20 books or so were dedicated solely to how to make dragon bone and dragon glass weapons. Another 10 were for only valerian steel and weapons, which is a long lost trait among blacksmiths. I started to try to craft valerian weapons and following these lost books. When all of a sudden Arya Stark ran into my shop.
"Can you let me stay here tonight?"
"What's wrong with your tower little Stark?"
"The king has been stabbed by a boar and my father was attacked by the king slayer." She was clutching her tiny little sword.
"Of course little Stark, here, let's see if we can sharpen that little blade for your protection" she smiled as I set to work sharpening her blade.
"It's called needle. My brother John gave me it when I left Winterfell. He's in the night's watch now"
"Well he gave you a very good needle to keep you safe. And here" I gave her a tiny little undershirt, it was just perfect for her size. "This should keep other blades from hurting you a bit. But you do have to go to the tower, your father must be worried sick."
She grumpily walked back into king's landing. Cersei came the next day
"Asher, do you have time to talk today?"
"Of course Cersei, let me heat up some water for tea"
"No, I brought wine, do you have clean cups?"
"I think so" I found a couple of my cups. Most people did not have cups, but since I was a blacksmith, I had made some beautiful steel cups that Cersei would love if they were gold. We sat down and she poured a generous heap of wine into both cups.
"Robert is going to die. He was drunk (obviously) and the boar skewered him before he could kill it."
"Is this good news or bad news?"
"Joffrey will be king, and as you well know I have no love for Robert. But Joffrey is a spoiled little monster, even I know that. So I'm not sure if it is good or bad that he is going to be king"
"Only time will tell, and he is already betrothed to Sansa Stark, so your lineage should be secure."
"As long as no one finds out about him. John Arryn did, so I killed him. Now the Stark has found out. And Jaimie has not successfully killed him, so I'm worried."
"Why not send him to the wall? Starks have always manned the wall, and no one would dare to believe him if he was there in fear of being kept in the wall themselves." She sipped her wine and thought it over
"That is actually a very clever idea. Any chance you can actually design me a new lockbox? I feel like I'll be needing to hide some things once Robert dies"
"Give me the dimensions and as always we can work it out."
"Of course" she gave me the dimensions and details. "I'll be back in a couple days to obtain it" she turned to leave, letting the wine stay in my home "Oh, and Asher, you need to blacken your hair again." I glowered down into my cup at my neglected responsibility. She knew I dyed my hair black, she had walked in on me countless times, but she never probed into what my natural color was. She was supposed to be Rhaegar's wife, so it was possible she remembered me, but if she did, she never said anything about it.
The next days that passed were hectic and a flurry of shocking kingdom shaking news. King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name, had fell to his boar wound and died. Joffrey had been named king the next day, his coronation less than 12 hours difference than Robert's time of death. Lord Eddard Stark was branded a traitor and sentenced to trial the next day. Within 48 hours of Robert's death, Ned had been executed. Arya had fled from king's landing, and Sansa had been imprisoned as Joffrey's future wife still. Majority of people that had been deathly loyal to Robert, Joffrey had either banished or slaughtered. The realm was changing again. War was breaking out again. Stannis Baratheon had taken arms against Joffrey, claiming he was rightfully next in line. Renly had taken arms against Stannis and Joffrey, claiming to be the most suitable in the line of proper succession. Robb Stark had proclaimed himself as 'king of the north' declaring war on Joffrey for killing his father in cold blood. And rumors of Daenerys rallying a Dothrak army in Essos to overtake Westeros had spread. Five armies fighting over a melted iron throne. They can have that throne, I liked the marvelous dragon one. I couldn't believe my ears when Cersei told me that people had named the stupid bitch 'mother of dragons' just because she had hatched 3 dragons. I had read in books, you can hatch as many as you want, however only one will truly be 'your' dragon. I saw the red streak across the sky.
"Asher, what do you think that streak is?" Cersei was in my home again
"I'm not sure, there has been a few stories to cross my ears about its representation"
"I told Joffrey it was to represent his new rule, the crimson red is a Lannister color, so the gods have recognized him as the true ruler of the kingdom"
"And is that what you believe it stands for?"
"Not entirely. Rhaegar had once told me so long ago it signaled a war of dragons"
"Mmm, I've heard that as well, but the people of the north say it's to represent the true king of the north, I've also heard of dragons, and of war, and now of Lannister pride"
"But, what do you believe Asher, you're clever, you've matched my cleverness for years now. So if one of the stories can make you believe I'd like to ponder that story."
I sat down across from her
"Cersei, you're not going to like what I believe."
"Why not?"
"I read it from a book. Its written like a poem, but it seems really spot on."
"May I hear the poem?"
" Upon a death, a streak of red will rise
Many armies fight, but only one will survive
Dragons and fire will cover the skies
White walkers roam, eating everything alive
The red streak dies, but war still rages
Dragons and walkers can't survive the ages
So where will you be, when your heart beats still
And to which tragedy will you be killed
Heat, cold, it's all the same
The throne is really just a game.
So pretend you have a choice in this thing called life
Only the red streak will survive. "
"So then dragons are your belief?"
"White walkers. War. Death."
"Either way, nothing good then?"
"No. nothing good from that red streak. I truly believe it symbolizes death for many."
We both sipped our wine and pondered what was to happen in the months to come, and what hardships we would face, and what one would break us.
