Just as the three of them were deep in discussion over the origins of the dragon skeletons, the sound of firm knocking came from the door.
Hugh entered at once.
"Your Highness," he said, barely containing his excitement, the dark gleam of Valyrian steel armor catching the light as he moved. "I brought someone back with me. This person claims she can reforge Valyrian steel swords."
Aegon's eyes widened.
"You captured a smith capable of reforging Valyrian steel and dragged her here?" he demanded. "How did you manage that?"
"I did not capture her," Hugh replied quickly. "She is connected to Hidolf. I merely learned by chance that she possesses the knowledge to reforge Valyrian steel."
He hesitated, then added, "I had intended only to dine at Hidolf's place. I did not expect to encounter such a person."
Aegon leaned forward, interest flaring.
"Bring her in," he said at once. "I have questions for her. And bring the pair of Valyrian steel greatswords as well."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Hugh turned and departed.
Long ago, he had presented Aegon with Valyrian steel armor and two greatswords. Aegon had taken only the blades, bestowing the armor upon Hugh instead.
It was not long before Hugh returned, leading another figure behind him.
The newcomer was even taller and more powerfully built than Hugh himself.
The moment the figure laid eyes on Aegon, she dropped to both knees and pressed her forehead to the floor in a deep prostration.
Aegon blinked and glanced at Hugh.
Hugh's mouth twitched. He coughed lightly.
"Ahem. Skaði, you are neither a criminal nor a slave. You need only kneel on one knee or bow before His Highness." He turned to Aegon, lowering his voice. "Forgive me, Your Highness. She does not seem… very bright."
"You said she?" Arryk blurted out, staring.
"Yes," Hugh replied, his confidence wavering as he spoke. "Skaði is thirteen this year. She is… well, a girl."
"Thirteen?" Loren stared in disbelief. "Is this a jest?"
Aegon fixed Hugh with a hard look. "Are you playing games with us?"
Hugh frowned. "Hidolf swore it was true. He asked me to look after her carefully. Said she is always hungry."
The words had barely left his mouth when a low, thunderous rumble echoed through the room.
Aegon looked left, then right, before his gaze settled on the figure kneeling before him.
Skaði's face burned red as she bowed even lower.
Aegon's lips twitched. "Skaði," he asked cautiously, "are you hungry?"
Her head dipped another inch.
Aegon drew in a sharp breath. Seven hells. That sound had been louder than Aemond's most shameless bodily indiscretions.
He abandoned his original intent to question her immediately about reforging the swords.
"Stand up," he said. "Come here and stand properly so I can see you."
Skaði rose and stepped forward. In her attempt to comply fully, she removed her rough linen shirt and shorts, standing stiffly at attention.
Hugh, Arryk, and Loren all turned their heads away in unison.
Aegon's mouth twitched again, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. Showing discomfort would only make matters worse.
"That will do," he said evenly. "Put your clothes back on. Stand there and do not move. I will have food prepared for you."
Skaði hurried to dress herself again, her ears still red, though there was relief in her posture.
At least she possessed some sense of modesty. That much could be worked with.
"Arryk," Aegon said, "have the kitchens prepare food. Whatever is ready. Send it here."
Not long after, Aegon began to suspect something was amiss.
"By the Seven," he muttered, swallowing hard. "How many loaves is that?"
"Your Highness," a servant replied carefully, "this is the third loaf. She has also eaten five large meat chops, ten fried eggs, two plates of bacon, and three cups of warm milk."
Hugh swallowed audibly. That was nearly his entire daily ration.
And the bread was not sliced. Each loaf weighed five pounds.
Aegon studied Skaði, who now sat on a bench. Even seated, she was nearly his height.
A memory surfaced in his mind. A monstrous figure from a century yet to come. Gregor Clegane, the Mountain.
Skaði was perhaps a little over two meters tall now, but she was only thirteen. She had not yet reached her full growth. Worse still, she had clearly lived in near constant hunger.
She devoured the food before her like a storm sweeping across the table, as though she feared it might vanish if she slowed.
Seeing this, Aegon waved a hand.
"Prepare more," he instructed the servant. "A whole roasted suckling pig, another loaf of white bread, ten fried eggs, a plate of bacon, and two pitchers of milk."
At the mention of more food, Skaði's eyes lit up at once.
She was not full. Not even close.
Under the stunned gazes of everyone present, she consumed the second wave of food just as thoroughly as the first.
At last, she leaned back, her expression simple and satisfied.
"I am full," she said sincerely. "Thank you, generous master."
"You need not call me master," Aegon replied. "My name is Aegon Targaryen. You may call me Prince, or Lord, as you prefer."
He studied her for a moment.
"Now that you are fed, let us speak of more important matters. Can you truly reforge Valyrian steel?"
At the mention of smithing, Skaði's posture changed instantly. She straightened and thumped a fist against her chest.
"Yes. I can reforge any existing metal," she said with conviction. "Valyrian steel included. Also obsidian, meteoric iron, and dragonbone."
Aegon's eyes brightened.
"Obsidian and dragonbone as well?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes. I am best with those, in fact. My former master loved collecting such materials."
The surprise on Aegon's face was impossible to hide.
Hugh placed the two Valyrian steel greatswords before her.
"Examine these," Aegon said. "Can they be reforged into four hand-and-a-half swords?"
The moment Skaði laid eyes on the blades, her expression transformed. She rushed forward, her massive fingers tracing the dark metal with reverence.
"Valyrian steel is a magical alloy," she said, voice filled with awe. "It is forged thousands of times to balance the metal and purge its impurities. Then spells or other lost techniques are applied to grant it its extraordinary nature."
She spoke rapidly, words tumbling forth.
"It is light, impossibly hard, sharper than common steel, and it does not decay even after centuries. Most Valyrian steel is dark, nearly black. No ordinary flame can damage it. Not even dragonfire."
Aegon understood very little of her explanation.
"So," he said simply, "can you reforge these into four swords?"
"Yes," Skaði answered without hesitation. "Before my father died, he taught me a method for smelting Valyrian steel."
She paused. "I will need assistance to build the furnace. Do you have any special requirements for the swords?"
"Yes," Aegon replied. "I will take you to see four dragons. I want the nature of each dragon reflected in its blade."
That was why he wished the two greatswords reforged. One for Helaena. One for Aemond. One for Daeron. And one to remain with him.
Skaði nodded eagerly.
"Then come," Aegon said, rising to his feet. "I will show you the dragons first."
Without further delay, he led her toward the Dragonpit, the future of steel and flame following close behind.
-------
A/N:
Read ahead on Patreon, 22 advance chapters available, with the first 2 free.
patreon.com/Captain_Lag
Also a little announcement-I just released a new fanfic, Dance of the Dragons: Reborn as Aegon the Dragonbane, So do check it out!
that's it I guess, happy reading!!