The Sands Beneath the Dragons

Chapter 1

The song filled the small room with noise.

Sometimes, accompanying the small melody (which I half-hummed and half-mumbled) was the characteristic sound of a quill rasping across the edge of an ink well or the soft flik of the quill hitting the page.

The light of the sun coming from the thin window was hitting the carefully positioned plate of polished copper in such a way to light the entirety of the small room, although some candles were still burning next to me to give constant lighting from other directions as to not strain my eyes. My bed was made, and the room had been dusted and cleaned to pristine conditions.

The environment gave me peace.

Let me tell you, however, that while I felt at peace, the act of copying books by hand was difficult work. One thing was reading about it in The Name of the Rose and hearing from your university professors and it was another entire thing to actually do it, all medieval/early renaissance style, inside what was essentially a fantasy university inside a fantasy lighthouse inside a fantasy world.

But never mind that for now!

Let me start where all things should: at the beginning.

In retrospect, I was born (or rather reborn, but let's keep that between us, shall we?) with some bright star shining, or at least marginally illuminating hesitantly, upon me. (Rather the act of rebirth was luck enough, I think) I have a father, as some living things have, and a mother, as the majority of living things have. From my father I have a host of half-siblings and from both sides a horde of cousins. I was born with a quaint combination of genes with my mother being a Sand from Dorne and my father a Northern Lord who, in his attempt to enjoy everything the capital of Westeros had to offer, went to a brothel, got too deep in his cups, and forgot to pull out.

My mother fearing that the brothel mistress would offer her, or more likely force her, to imbibe certain concoctions to abort little foetus me, left King's Landing seeking refuge with her half-brother the protector of the Boneway and Warden of the Stone Gate, the Lord Yoren Yronwood, Yes, I also chortled at the name and title (hehe Boneway…pff Yronwood, hehehe). Lord Yronwood proved himself a feal and caring brother and took care of my mother, and after my birth became the most prominent father figure in my youth. He even gave me my name: Alystair Sand.

Such was the way of the people of Dorne that I was treated certainly not worse than any of my trueborn cousins, tough at times there were certainly some moments were I was definitely not treated equally. But oh well, such is life as a bastard's bastard. In accordance with the militaristic attitude of this world, I was taught the sword and the spear and the bow in order to, one day, serve my eldest cousin in some capacity when I was of age. Though I was good with a sword and exceled with a halberd my martial passion became archery, quickly becoming the best in the castle, even at a young age.

However, my abnormal intelligence was quickly noted by my tutors and my eternal love of books ended up pushing me in a different direction.

By the age of 10 I entered the Citadel as a Novice.

Yes, I was quite young. The Maester at Yronwood had quickly run out of things to teach me and I figured, considering my knowledge of the future of Westeros and the time I was reborn into, I wanted to be as far away from Dorne as my little legs could take me.

I was in no way involving myself with any of the Vulture Kings.

Because I did not want to be squashed by an illiterate Baratheon.

I was in no way putting myself in the position to be recruited for the War of the Stepstones.

Because I did not want to be eaten by Caraxes.

So I packed my shit and galloped to the Citadel following a trade caravan, with nothing but food, a bag of clothes, my halberd, my bow, a large amount of arrows, a few books, a letter recognizing me as Lord Yronwoods bastard nephew and a letter of recommendation by Maester Arlys of Yronwood.

Never mind that Morion's Folly had been five years before my birth and the War for the Stepstones was scheduled to begin only 6 years after my entry in the Citadel and that the next Vulture King was only going to show up during the Dance of Dragons, I wanted out of Dorne before people got any ideas.

More precisely before Princess Mara Martell got any ideas of avenging her fallen brother.

Or any other Oberyn-esque lord with more brawn than brain and more armies than sense.

Hey, that didn't happen in canon, but who the fuck knows.

So, while I was busy running in the opposite direction of any fire spewing lizard with wings or hammer wielding storm lords, I devised a series of bullet points.

1) Enter the Citadel as a Novice;

2) Become an Acolyte as fast as possible;

3) Forge Links at whatever piques my interests;

4) Run the fuck away when they ask me to take the Vows. (Because I am merely human and I am Dornish, why the fuck would you ask me to be chaste?)

5) Somehow gain employment thanks to my resume.

6) ?

7) Profit!

So my short tale brings me to where I currently am.

Like I said, I became a novice at the Citadel at the age of 10.

Although there is no age requirement, the Maesters had a thing or two to say about a child entering the equivalent of an University.

Suffice to say any ideas about me being a normal child were defenestrated quite quickly.

(C'mon Archmaester Vaegon, what were those calculations again? You think because I'm ten I don't know trigonometry? Well I shouldn't but fuck you and your pale white valyrian ass I'll show you that I can!)

Suffice to say I also bruised some egos.

(What? Why are you crying? What do you mean I'm a genius? I mean, I know I am, but why? ... What do you mean you didn't know what double-entry bookkeeping was? You are the Archmaester of the Red Gold Link!)

Thankfully I managed to keep the majority of my thoughts over the proceedings to myself. I did not want to give the Maesters a reason to throw me out after all.

Anyway that was how I gained entry to the largest institution of knowledge in the known world and also immediately gained two links, one of yellow gold and another of red gold, becoming an acolyte.

To gain a link one simply had to submit to an oral exam to an Archmaester and if he thinks you are good enough he gives you a link for that particular topic. Therefore, solving several equations beyond the basic sums taught even to the highest of lordlings was already worthy of respect. After showing them a method of accounting that was never heard of before in the Citadel it was the equivalent of presenting a master thesis.

By the end of the year I gained three more links: one of black iron for Ravenry, one of copper for History and another of platinum for Geometry.

By the end of the second I gained three more links: another one of copper for History and another two of yellow and red gold to compliment the first two.

My life quickly became a matter of routine.

Between attending lectures, writing an entire book about math and economics, and participating in the only courtyard to put in practice my martial interests in the Citadel (which belonged to the Hightowers) I quickly breezed through the Citadel.

My intelligence didn't win many friends however, plus my Dornish-ness and how easy I was accumulating links in comparison to the rest of the novices, so I found myself a target of bullying.

When the bullying went from verbal to violent it was quick to end it in every level.

In other news, I sent a letter of thanks to Uncle for teaching me how to throw a punch.

(I was one of the very few acolytes who still practised any type of martial arts and I was not afraid of throwing my weight around.)

The bullying turned to social exclusion.

Nevertheless, I was still able to make a few friends, even if with some of them the friendship began when I started tutoring them in the subjects they had difficulty with and, in turn, they tutored me in some I had most difficulty with.

The number of links continued to grow, although I slowed down when I realized there was a hard limit of links you could forge before they forced you to take a Maester's oath so you can continue your studies.

After the initial 2 years I only had thirteen more I could forge so it becomes a full chain.

I decided to focus on three main routes: War, Medicine and the Higher Mysteries.

To my surprise, the first one was easy. I spent my first life as an economic historian who dabbled in military and political history so with enough examples of battles from my original world I gained three iron links quickly enough. This ease allowed me to focus on two more links this time of brass for Construction and Architecture and in this my otherworldly knowledge proved to benefit me once more as I formalized the Gothic style and introduced the Baroque and Neoclassical styles to Westeros.

The second proved more cumbersome. So cumbersome I had to resort to fellow novices for notes and tips. Granted even here my otherworldly knowledge proved beneficial, but even then remembering the westerosi names for each bone in my hand was beyond annoying. Nevertheless I came out with three more links.

The third discipline proved itself even more difficult. So difficult in fact I almost gave up. But I was more stubborn than a normal acolyte given the fact that I read about this entire world in another life and knew that there was some deep magical shit happening in the background. It took me two years, a lot of late nights and a personal trip to the God's Eye but I managed to forge a Valyrian steel link which I quickly put centrefold in my chain which was still mostly rope back then.

I was 16 and had four more links to go.

Unfortunately, even in the Citadel at the height of Targaryen rule, magic was not well seen. Me taking the valyrian steel link over other subjects first put a not insignificant dent in my reputation. I was even ask by a few Maesters to abandon the subject and an Archmaester had the gall to try to psychoanalyse me and manipulate me to abandon that area of research.

Lucky for them, I had no other plans of forging more links of that steel. Officially, that is.

My final links I decided they would be on the subjects I had yet to study: one of bronze for Astronomy, another of pewter for Poisons and Herbs, tin for Commerce and Agriculture and, finally steel for Sea Faring.

I was currently 18 years of age and I am still an acolyte but I have a complete chain.

And today is the day I run the fuck away from the Citadel.


A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this snippet!

It's a concept of an idea. I haven't seen any fanfics that focus on the Citadel as an institution beyond a few that gloss over or quickly move on from it.

This one would be a more in-depth fanfic to that, altough it too would move on from Oldtown eventually.

I hope you like it!

If you are an author and like the idea you are free to run with it, just ya know... send me the link so I can read too xd.