Chapter Three House Sword
Two weeks before reaching Driftmark
The sea stayed calm as the ship cut west. Corlys Velaryon stood near the stern with a cup of Dornish wine, watching the water. The fighting in the Stepstones had finally slowed enough that he could think about other things. The Triarchy was bloodied. The Crabfeeder was dead. For the first time in a long while, the path ahead felt open.
And sitting on that open path was Jaehaerys Volantis.
Corlys had watched the man for days now. A giant with Valyrian features, bonded to Vermithor of all dragons. He carried a dark blade that looked too fine to be common steel and a warhammer that could catch fire when he fed it. The more Corlys learned, the more the young man looked like a gold mine. A dragonrider. A smith who claimed he could reforge Valyrian steel. A son of Saera Targaryen who had somehow claimed the Old King's own dragon.
That last part still made Corlys shake his head. The irony was thick enough to taste.
He finished his wine and called one of the crew over.
"Go get Jaehaerys. Bring him to my cabin."
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Jaehaerys had spent most of the voyage either up on deck near Vermithor or down below with his crates and books. The bond with the old dragon still sat strange in his head. Sometimes when he touched the warm scales, images came to him—old forges, ways of working metal with dragonfire, shapes of tools he had never seen before. It gave him a headache at first, but he was getting used to it. Every flight helped clear his mind a little more.
Cain had already made himself at home among the crew, talking trade and asking questions. Jaehaerys let him do it. The merchant was good at finding angles.
When the crewman came to fetch him, Jaehaerys pulled on a cleaner dark tunic, settled Bronzefury at his hip, and headed for the Sea Snake's cabin. He still wasn't good at talking to lords. His mother's letter had told him to ease up on the bluntness, but old habits died hard.
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
"You called for me," he said.
Corlys looked him over and nodded toward a chair. "Sit. No need for formalities. I've got a request for you."
Jaehaerys sat. The wood creaked under him.
"You've said you know how to reforge Valyrian steel," Corlys began. "Over my years sailing I collected scraps of it. Broken pieces. One big chunk that looks like it came off a chest plate. I want you to make a sword for my house."
Jaehaerys was quiet for a few seconds. "I wouldn't mind doing it. But I'm new coming into Westeros. My mother's in exile. A lot of people still look at me and mine like we're bastards even when we're not. I need more than gold. I need backing. Someone who can actually stand behind me."
Corlys watched him without speaking.
"I'm not that smart when it comes to political shit," Jaehaerys went on. "But I can make weapons. I don't know how long it'll take, but I've got full confidence I'll be able to recreate Valyrian steel. When I do, you'll be the one who sells it. We split the profits fifty-fifty."
Corlys leaned back in his chair. What had started as simple curiosity was turning into something much better. He had sailed east to find out why an old dragon had flown to Qohor. Now he was heading home with a dragonrider and a man who might give House Velaryon something no other house had.
"You have yourself a deal," he said.
They shook hands on it.
For a good while after that they worked through the details. Corlys wanted an exclusive arrangement so any new Valyrian steel went through him first. Jaehaerys wanted real support and protection while he worked and while he tried to make a place for himself. The talk turned briefly to land. Jaehaerys still wanted space to build the kind of craft city he had drawn in his sketchbooks. Corlys wasn't ready to promise anything about the Stepstones yet and said they would speak on it properly once they reached Driftmark.
Near the end of the conversation Corlys mentioned his daughter. He spoke of Laena's skill with Vhagar and the future of the house in a careful way, testing the ground for something more permanent later. Jaehaerys, focused on the work and the backing, didn't catch the full weight of what was being offered.
When Jaehaerys finally stood to leave, he looked a little less tense than when he had walked in. The deal wasn't perfect, but it was a start. For the first time since claiming Vermithor, he felt like he might not have to stand completely alone in Westeros.
Corlys stayed seated after the door closed. Outside, the sea stretched toward Driftmark. High above the ship, Vermithor's bronze shape cut across the sky.
A son of Saera Targaryen. The Bronze Fury. The chance at new Valyrian steel.
Corlys reached for fresh parchment. There were letters that needed writing before they made port.
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Sorry if this is not up to standard and if you haven't noticed my this he doesn't really care for being a lord only thing he really do care for is really trying to build a place where people like him creators like blacksmiths tailors if he becomes the Lord he becomes one he doesn't care and yes he will become a lord of the the step stones