An anvil.
Not carved.
Not built.
Born from the mountain itself.
Its surface glowed a dull crimson beneath centuries of unimaginable heat.
I emptied the leather pouch.
One by one...
The Valyrian steel treasures landed upon the stone.
A dragon-shaped brooch.
A signet ring.
Bracelets.
Fragments of ceremonial armor.
Small pieces.
Yet together...
Enough.
Celebrimbor stepped forward.
For a long moment...
He simply stared at the metal.
He slowly raised one hand.
Silver light gathered around his fingers.
Then...
It lengthened.
Solidified.
Until an elegant smith's hammer appeared in his grasp.
Pure silver light.
The spectral hammer shimmered with ancient runes.
I recognized it immediately.
"The instrument with which I forged the New Ring."
His expression darkened briefly.
"And perhaps..."
"...my greatest mistake."
He rested the hammer upon the anvil.
The cavern fell silent.
Even the volcano seemed to wait.
"Your blood."
Without hesitation...
I drew my dagger.
A single cut across my palm.
Blood dripped onto the Valyrian steel.
Instead of running across the metal...
It vanished into it.
The Elf lifted the hammer.
Then struck.
CLANG.
The sound rolled across the volcano.
Not like metal.
Like a bell ringing across two worlds.
The Valyrian steel glowed silver.
He struck again.
CLANG.
The fragments began drawing together.
Edges softened.
Old joins disappeared.
Centuries-old cracks healed themselves.
Again.
CLANG.
The steel folded inward.
Again.
CLANG.
The impurities burned away.
Silver sparks scattered into the lava below.
Each vanished before touching the molten rock.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The rhythm became hypnotic.
The hammer rose.
Fell.
Rose.
Fell.
Each strike echoed with power older than kingdoms.
Older than Valyria.
Older than Westeros itself.
The mountain trembled.
Celebrimbor never hurried.
Every blow was deliberate.
Every strike perfect.
He was what he had once been.
The greatest smith of the Second Age.
His silver hair drifted in heat that could not touch him.
His blue eyes never left the glowing metal.
Slowly...
The lump of steel stretched.
Curved.
Closed into a circle.
The hammer fell one final time.
CLANG.
Silence.
The Ring lay upon the black stone.
Its surface shimmered somewhere between silver and black, as though moonlight had been trapped inside obsidian.
Then...
Runes appeared.
Not carved.
Growing naturally through the metal.
Flowing High Elvish intertwined with elegant High Valyrian script.
Two ancient civilizations.
One Ring.
Celebrimbor lowered the hammer.
For several moments...
He simply stared.
Then the spectral hammer dissolved into silver mist.
"It is finished."
His voice carried neither pride...
Nor regret.
Only certainty.
I stepped forward.
The Ring was still warm.
Not from the volcano.
From the forge itself.
Celebrimbor met my eyes.
"Go on."
I picked it up.
"It is yours."
Slowly...
I slid it onto my finger.
The bond between Celebrimbor and me deepened.
I no longer merely heard him.
I felt his thoughts brushing against my own.
His memories.
His triumphs.
His failures.
And he...
Felt mine.
The room around us seemed to split in two.
The world of flesh.
The world of spirit.
For the briefest instant...
I saw countless pale lights drifting through the mountain.
The dead.
Thousands of them.
The souls of Valyria.
Then...
The vision vanished.
The mountain trembled.
A deep rumble echoed beneath our feet.
Stone cracked.
The lava lake began to churn violently.
Celebrimbor's voice entered my mind.
"Something comes."
I nodded.
"I know."
The molten lake erupted.
Fire burst toward the cavern roof.
A massive claw emerged.
Then another.
An enormous horned head followed.
Its obsidian scales glowed with rivers of molten stone flowing between them.
Its wings unfolded slowly.
Each beat stirred hurricane-force winds through the cavern.
The dragon climbed fully onto the central island.
Lava poured from its body like rain.
Its ancient eyes opened.
Golden.
Burning.
They settled immediately...
On me.
More precisely...
On the Ring.
Celebrimbor's thoughts were calm.
"It feels what we have created."
"It doesn't like it."
"No."
The dragon lowered its head.
It did not attack.
Not immediately.
Instead...
It watched.
Studied.
Judged.
Then it roared.
The sound shook the entire volcano.
Chunks of stone crashed into the lava below.
The dragon stepped forward.
The natural bridge trembled beneath its immense weight.
One more step.
Another.
It was coming.
I instinctively reached for my sword.
My hand grasped empty air.
I had left every weapon below.
Only my dagger remained at my belt.
I laughed once.
"Perfect."
Celebrimbor almost smiled.
"You never intended to defeat such a creature with steel."
"No."
"I suppose not."
The dragon lunged.
Its jaws opened.
Molten fire gathered deep within its throat.
Before it could unleash it...
The Ring pulsed.
A single thought entered my mind.
Not from Celebrimbor.
From the Ring itself.
Command.
I froze.
Celebrimbor felt it too.
His presence became suddenly tense.
"Talion..."
"I know."
"Do you understand what it asks?"
"I do."
The dragon's fire was only moments away.
I raised my right hand.
The Ring gleamed.
Silver light spread across its surface.
The runes awakened.
High Elvish.
High Valyrian.
Both blazing like stars.
I met the dragon's gaze.
Its ancient eyes burned into mine.
The pressure hit instantly.
A mind.
Older than kingdoms.
Filled with instinct.
Pride.
Fire.
It pushed against me.
Refusing.
Rejecting.
Celebrimbor's voice echoed within me.
Not spoken aloud.
Within our shared soul.
"Do not fight its strength."
"Overcome its will."
The dragon roared.
The force of its mind struck like a hammer.
My knees buckled.
Pain exploded behind my eyes.
Memories not my own flashed before me.
Ancient Valyria.
Dragonlords soaring through black skies.
The Doom.
Fire.
Death.
Centuries of loneliness.
The beast had watched an empire die.
It remembered.
Everything.
I stood.
Slowly.
Painfully.
The Ring shone brighter.
"I am not your enemy."
The dragon snarled.
Its answer came not in words...
But emotion.
Leave.
I took another step.
"I cannot."
Fire gathered again within its throat.
The Ring pulsed.
Again.
Again.
Power surged through my body.
Celebrimbor added nothing.
He could not.
This was no craft of his.
This...
Was mine.
The Ring answered its bearer.
I reached outward.
Not with my hand.
With my will.
The dragon resisted.
Its mind was immense.
Like trying to move a mountain.
For a heartbeat...
I thought I would fail.
Then I remembered.
Death.
My empty grave.
My parents.
Damon.
Arya.
The Wall.
The White Walkers.
Everything still waiting beyond this mountain.
"I will not stop."
The words echoed through my own soul.
The Ring flared.
Silver light engulfed the cavern.
The dragon faltered.
Its fire died.
Its pupils narrowed.
It pushed once more.
Then...
Its resistance broke.
Not shattered.
Bent.
Its head lowered.
The roar faded into a low rumble.
Slowly...
The colossal beast knelt.
The entire mountain seemed to exhale.
Silence followed.
Only the bubbling lava remained.
I lowered my hand.
Sweat poured from my face.
My legs nearly gave out beneath me.
Celebrimbor stared at the dragon for a long moment.
Finally...
He spoke.
His voice carried equal measures of awe...
And unease.
"You did not merely frighten it."
"You mastered it."
I looked at the ancient dragon.
Golden eyes met mine.
No hatred remained.
Only obedience.
I swallowed.
"I thought the Ring could dominate minds."
Celebrimbor nodded slowly.
"It can."
He looked at the kneeling dragon.
Then back at me.
"I simply did not imagine..."
His expression grew grave.
"...that its first conquest would be a dragon."
The dragon lowered its immense head until one molten eye rested level with me.
Carefully...
I reached out.
My hand touched the warm obsidian scales of its snout.
The beast did not move.
Far below, beyond the mountain, Daenerys waited aboard the ship, believing Talion was merely exploring the volcano.
She had no way of knowing...
That somewhere beneath the Fourteen Flames...
A dead knight had just done what no dragonlord of Valyria had achieved through force alone.
He had conquered an ancient dragon...
By will alone.