Chapter 5: Summoning Charm Abuse and You

~288 AC~

"Accio Brightroar!"

This had been one of his better ideas Robb thought as he felt the tug on the deathstick.

It was faint, but strong enough. He brought the full might of his magic to the surface and pulled. The distance was enormous, and the obstacles between him and the prize he sought were numerous, but Robb would not be denied.

He had always been a dab at the summoning charm, and decided he would put it into practice.

Once Maester Luwin had broached the topic of Valyrian Steel and some of the swords forever lost to time during their studies, the idea had settled in his brain and taken root. A plan he had intended to act out once he gained the means.

It seemed the purpose for the symbol that adorned his palm since birth had become known. The Deathly Hallows had become a part of his person in a spiritual sense, his being able to summon and dismiss the wand a testament to that fact. He hadn't gained access to the cloak or stone yet, but in due time he knew he would.

As Robb continued to work his summoning charm, he thought about what he knew regarding Valyrian steel. He had a few ideas about what went into crafting it. At it's core, it was fundamentally a piece of very strong metal that was nigh unbreakable and said to retain it's sharpness for upwards of centuries.

He could think of a few ways to do that with his skill in enchanting and bestowal.

To enchant was to temporarily grant something an attribute for a period of time. It was the go to for most people, but depending on the strength of the enchanter and the material being enchanted, recasting was often required. It could be done only on finished products as changing the state of property of the enchanted object caused it to lose the properties cast upon it.

Bestowal was a different beast, and much more difficult with more requirements in skill and material both. It could only be done on raw materials, but was done in such a way that it weaved the property into the material permanently. To bestow was to change the object itself on a fundamental level, not unlike alchemy in some ways.

The problem with bestowal was that you couldn't do it with just random material. It had to be rich in magic and free of impurities, and for every property you wanted to bestow in something, the raw material had to be that much better in quality by an order of magnitude.

Robb could certainly make an environment where raw metals could soak in magic and in a years time he would be able to bestow one property.

Bestowing two properties would need the raw metals to soak in magic for perhaps five years depending on how hospitable he could make the environment.

It was said that Valyrians practiced blood magic, and with access to dragonfire, a rough idea was forming in his head of exactly how they managed the process. He didn't think they were advanced enough to be capable of what he was thinking of, but sacrifice of life was very powerful magic in some cases, even when the life was sacrificed unwillingly. Robb had a very powerful fire spell that could mimic enchanted dragon flame. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if it was even stronger than the flames of the dragons of this world.

He was no blacksmith, but he could learn. With the right spells and potions, he could learn very quickly indeed. There was a reason people like Crouch Senior could learn hundreds of languages.

Magic is might.

He shelved his thoughts about creating Valyrian steel for now and redoubled his focus on the summoning charm. Such a project like recreating Valyrian steel would take time, and so he would make do with what he had at hand.

Brightroar was close, he knew.

From his vantage point at the top of one of the many towers in Winterfell, he spotted it flying towards him. He had wrapped the tower he was using as a vantage point in a bevy of notice-me-not and muggle repelling charms so as to be sure he wouldn't be interrupted.

The ancestral sword of House Lannister slowed down and came to a stop infront of Robb. A quick scanning charm to be sure no malicious spells were at hand, followed by a thorough cleaning charm to finish the job. This sword was said to have been lost in the ruins of Valyria. He had cast his summoning charm roughly at the direction of Essos so it could have come from anywhere in that direction, but he took care to be meticulous in his treatment of the sword. He had heard of the Doom and the horrors Maester Benifer were witness to after Balerion and princess Aerea's return. He would not be caught unawares.

After taking some time to admire the sword, he stored it in a bag woven with an expansion charm into it's threads, planning to show it to his father later.

He was already rueing that conversation. It would be an exhausting one, but one that had to be had. Robb had great ambitions for the North. Dreams of the most beautiful castle and city, teeming with beautiful women from across the known world.

A harem was a man's romance.

This little summoning charm excursion was just one step of many Robb would be taking to form the bedrock of his power.

He knew his lord father had no love for House Lannister, but the sheer amount of money and favors that could be gained from this sword was mind-boggling. It was said that Tywin Lannister had offered millions of gold dragons for any Valyrian steel sword.

What would he offer for the ancestral sword of his house?

The possibilities brought a smile to his face.

And while tonight could already be considered a great success with the acquisition of Brightroar, Robb hungered for more success. For more Valyrian steel. There was one sword that he had definitely wanted to try summoning tonight.

This one he had no prior information to go off of, but since Brightroar had come from Essos, he supposed it was as good as any a place to start from.

He twirled the deathstick, pointing it in the direction from where Brightroar had flew from. The name of a sword known to all spilled from his lips, and the deathstick found it and pulled.

Illyrio Mopatis laid down in bed, arms behind his head as his newest acquisition worked his member.

While she was lacking in skill, her enthusiasm wasn't bad. She worked hard to keep his enormous bulk out of the way as she attended to him. He was most impressed by her grit. Most of his new bed companions would have usually gagged at the smell by now.

It took time to get used to.

No matter how much perfume Illyrio sprayed about his person or adorned his living quarters with, he couldn't hide it.

Well, more's the pity.

As he reflected on such mundane things, he could feel his release was close. His body trem-

"Wait."

The woman looked up, confused at his sudden outburst as Illyrio sat up with a swiftness that only a former bravo could muster. The sudden shift of his person caused his bulk to ripple and rebound, hitting the face of the young woman who had been his companion tonight with great force.

She would feel that tomorrow, he was sure.

Ignoring the unimportant woman that had been thrown across the floor and was now sporting a rather spectacular bruise, Illyrio focused on the tremor that had shook his body. He had felt something, and his instincts were saying it was nothing good.

He ran through his manse towards the basement, his most secure chambers that housed his most important posessions and treasures, but was not quick enough. Illyrio was currently regretting the fact that he had decided to place his personal bedchamber at the very top of his nine-floor manse.

He'd made it to the fifth floor, and then he saw it. A dozen of his servants hot on his trails to see what was wrong, and they too stopped in shock at the sight before them.

A sword.

Gouging through the floors.

"No!" Illyrio roared as he noticed the ripples upon the surface of the blade. What in the Seven Hells was going on! The sight he was met with was utterly ridiculous.

The stone his manse was constructed from was strong and thick, but the Valyrian steel sword was gouging through it with ease.

He had to do something, or Blackfyre was going to fly out of his house.

Literally!

He turned to the nearest group of servants and spat out commands at a rapid pace. "Quickly! Ready yourselves to grasp the handle as it exits the stone!" The ones that had been able to get over the sight of a seemingly self-possessed sword gouging through the floor looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. To try and grab a flying sword that seemed to have a mind of it's own was madness!

Illyrio grabbed and tore at his hair in a fit of exasperation. He couldn't rely on these slaves of his. He had always been a man of action though, in his youth and even now as an adult. He would secure Blackfyre himself. It was essential to his future plans and couldn't slip from his ownership no matter the circumstances. He had seen the red priest who resided in Pentos work their sorcery before, he wouldn't be cowwed by this trifling display.

Fate had other plans, though. As the sword tore through stone and continued on it's path towards the ceiling of his manse at a breakneck pace, Illyrio made a last ditch effort to grasp it's handle. Mustering all the speed his formerly trained body was capable of, he moved; but it wasn't remotely enough.

Illyrio could only watch as perhaps his most prized possession slipped outside of his grasp, unable to do anything. He stood in the same spot for half an hour, simmering in rage as his servants watched on in fear wondering if they would be the targets of his anger.

It had been a long time since he'd tasted a defeat like this, but he would endure. Illyrio would channel this rage into finding whoever had taken his sword. He had contacts throughout the known world and immense wealth; and he would put it all to work to find Blackfyre once more.

The moment someone wielded that sword out in the open, he would know. And then, he would strike.

His rage having finally cooled down into something manageable, he gestured towards his servants. "Prepare my palanquin." Starting to finally relax at the knowledge they weren't in trouble, his servants started to immediately carry out his orders. Shaking his head at the damage done to his beautiful manse, he gave another order. "And contact the usual mason to start repairs."

Having addressed the immediate concerns, he thought of all the plans he'd have to change. He could only lament at what a terrible day this had been.

And he hadn't even gotten to blow his load! Damn it all!

Robb had been pleased when he'd gotten a reaction to the summoning charm; and even more pleased when the sword was finally in front of him. After following the same protocol he had done for Brightroar, he took hold of Blackfyre.

It was a thing of beauty.

While Godric Gryffindor's sword seemed to be the all-around better smithed sword, it hadn't even a tenth of the history Blackfyre did. Robb had always entertained thoughts of running around with his wand in his right hand and Godric's legendary sword in his left as Harry Potter.

The ministry would've probably gotten on his arse about carrying around a mythical sword out in the open, but in Westeros it would only make him that more much exceptional to the eyes of the people, smallfolk and high-born alike.

But he had to wonder, where in the world had Blackfyre come from? He had a sudden thought that perhaps he had stolen it from someone who had found and been hiding it, but dismissed the thought as nonsense. Anyone who had Blackfyre would surely be bragging from Westeros all the way to Asshai. He knew he would be doing so once he could wield it effectively.

Women loved legendary swords.

Putting thoughts about how he would be impressing beautiful maidens with his new legendary sword, he went back to work. The night was young yet, and there was much Valyrian steel to be found.

There was another ancestral sword of House Targaryen lost to time, and he wanted the complete set. Twirling the deathstick, he continued his work.

"Accio Dark Sister!"

Noting the lack of reaction, he recast the summoning charm in several directions and was met with failure each time.

"Interesting..."

It seemed that someone who had access to Dark Sister in the past was capable of casting an anti-summoning charm, or the weapon was behind a ward, or maybe even several of them.

Robb didn't mind, mysteries were exciting. It would make it all the sweeter when he did complete the set.

Thoughts of Dark Sister put away, he continued his task. There was much Valyrian steel to find indeed.

A/N:

Robb will be hunting for dragon eggs at some point.

He didn't use the summoning charm on them for fear of damaging them. Valyrian steel is nigh indestructible, dragon eggs are not.

Next chapter Ned tries not to pass out from stress.