A few days later.
In the Riverlands, at Harrenhal.
After half a month, the five towers were still dark, and smoke wafted from the remaining ruins of various buildings.
"Prince, are you sure the dragon ... will work?" Lyonel asked, his face troubled, as he watched the Unsullied busily clearing the debris.
At the moment, the Unsullied were hauling pieces of rubble from the ruins and throwing them into a large pit about a man's height deep. Besides the rubble, the pit contained ashes pulled from the ruins and a dark, sticky pile of dragon dung.
Dragon dung differs from the feces of other creatures. It has a faint odor and fewer solid components. Being magical creatures, dragons' bodies are infused with flame elements. Once cows and sheep enter their stomachs, they are rapidly digested by potent gastric juices, leaving behind black slime that resembles unheated magma.
Rhaegar squatted at the edge of the deep pit, stroking his chin as he murmured, "It shouldn't be a problem."
He seemed to have thought of something. Waving to Grey Worm, who stood guard nearby, he hesitantly said, "There's a bit too much dragon dung. Have someone scoop out some."
"Yes, Prince," Grey Worm replied, calling for two Unsullied to scoop out the dragon droppings. A large ladle, about two meters long, reached into the pit and scooped up a hefty portion of dragon dung.
Rhaegar's eyes lit up. "Almost there."
According to his knowledge of the blood sorcery [Dragonstone], it was roughly the ratio of a small amount of dragon dung mixed with a large quantity of stones and mortar.
"Prince, using dragon dung to create black stone ... I've never heard of it," Lyonel said helplessly.
Rhaegar replied thoughtfully, "Of course, it's not just dragon dung. Dragon scales, dragon blood, dragon bones, and even stones stained with dragonfire are all essential forging materials."
Dragonstone was an unorthodox magical artifact, and the melting process required a touch of magic. Dragons were high-level magical creatures, and each part of their body contained enough magical essence to melt Dragonstone. While dragon scales, blood, and bones were too precious, dragon dung was an abundant and inexpensive alternative.
In the lore of "Dragon Stone," the Dragonlords of Valyria had used dragon dung to build black stone wonders. It was sturdy, durable, and had no bad odor.
With the ingredients ready, the show was about to begin.
The Cannibal, hovering in the sky, slowly descended, scanning the deep pit with disdain. This was where the dragon dung came from.
Rhaegar stepped away from the pit, approached the Cannibal, and commanded, "Dracarys!"
"Roar..."
The Cannibal snorted, unleashing a torrent of dragonfire into the pit.
Zira...
Under the intense heat, the debris in the pit began to melt, mixing with the ashes and dragon droppings. Rhaegar placed both hands on the Cannibal's scales, closed his eyes, and murmured a low incantation.
Soon, the gurgling sound of boiling liquid emerged from the pit.
The Cannibal ceased his Dragonfire, and Rhaegar opened his eyes.
An Unsullied stepped forward to inspect the pit and exclaimed, "Prince, it seems to have worked."
Rhaegar, thrilled by the news, rushed forward to see for himself.
The materials in the pit had transformed into a bubbling black magma. The temperature of the magma was not extremely high, comparable to boiling water. There was no discernible odor.
"Quick, bring the molds," Rhaegar shouted, instructing for stone molds about a meter long and half a meter wide to be brought over.
The Unsullied used a large ladle to scoop the black magma and pour it into the molds. As they worked, Rhaegar noticed a key characteristic of the substance—it solidified rapidly. As soon as it was scooped out, white smoke began to rise from the ladle, and when poured into the stone trough, it quickly hardened into black dragon stone, fitting perfectly to the mold.
Rhaegar smiled, tapping on the surface of the black dragon stone.
Clang...
The sound was hard and solid, the material firm. Turning back to Lyonel, he raised an eyebrow triumphantly.
"How is it, my lord?"
Lyonel was too shocked to speak, his face a mix of awe and solemnity. Despite the magical element involved, witnessing this art in person was astonishing.
Lyonel raised his trembling hand and said excitedly, "This method truly deserves to be called the knowledge of Valyria! It's simply unheard of and unseen."
In Westeros, current construction techniques still relied on stonemasons and masons. Stonemasons shaped boulders, while masons mixed mortar from straw ash and yellow clay. This process was slow and labor-intensive; a single stonemason could work all day and carve only a few useful stones.
Black dragon stone required only stone, mortar, and dragon droppings, fused together in moments and molded into any desired shape.
Rhaegar's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "That's not all."
He instructed the Unsullied to scoop out another ladle of black magma and pour it onto the molded black dragon stone.
Zira...
When the black magma met the black dragon stone, a hot white smoke rose, quickly dissipating as the magma solidified and fused seamlessly with the stone. This demonstrated that black dragon stone could be formed using an infusion method rather than traditional construction techniques.
Lyonel looked stunned, nearly dropping his jaw in disbelief. It took him a moment to gather himself. Shaking his head, he chuckled, "Prince, no wonder you wanted to trade the intact Stone Hedge for Harrenhal."
Harrenhal had been burned to the ground, rendering it unfit for nobility. At a dinner party a few days prior, Lyonel had agreed to the exchange of territories. The Strongs would move to the former Bracken lands, inheriting Stone Hedge and most of its territory, while Harrenhal and its lands reverted to the Crown, with Rhaegar receiving the title of Lord for life.
Lyonel was pleased with the arrangement. Despite Harrenhal's ruin, Stone Hedge, although smaller and less strategically located, was an excellent choice. The territory and its people were richer than those under the Strong House.
Harrenhal held a significant position in Westeros, overseeing the Riverlands, defending the Vale, and the Northern Realm. However, its history was cursed, with none of its past lords meeting a good end. Lyonel was more than willing to exchange his family's land for Stone Hedge, reducing risks and reintegrating into the Riverlands' noble power.
With these considerations in mind, Lyonel said, "Prince, the Strong House will take over Stone Hedge, and Old Lord Tully and I will ensure the stone supply needed to rebuild Harrenhal."
Harrenhal's complex had been reduced to ruins, with only the five main towers and the city wall remaining intact. To smelt the black dragonstone, a steady supply of stone was required. This task was undertaken by the Tully and Strong Houses.
The Strong House, having traded prime land for the royal family, naturally needed to contribute. The Tullys, on the other hand, needed to compensate.
With the Blackwoods and Brackens at war and one openly rebelling, Old Tully, as Lord Paramount of the Trident and Lord of Riverrun, had nearly been captured by his own bannermen.
His title was spared only because the Tully House had lost its successor. While he had no great merits, he had endured much. Thus, Old Tully had to contribute a significant amount of stone to repair Harrenhal.
...
After the successful creation of black dragonstone, Rhaegar had more pressing matters to attend to.
Inside the Kingspyre Tower, Rhaegar took his seat at the high chair. Besides Lyonel, a few others joined him: Robb, Grey Worm, and Tru, the former maester.
"Robb," Rhaegar called out.
Robb knelt on one knee, his voice reverent, "Prince."
Rhaegar exchanged a glance with Lyonel before continuing, "Robb, you distinguished yourself in the battles on Stone Island and in the rebellion. I've asked my father for the recognition you deserve."
Robb's head lifted, his eyes full of excitement. He had already heard from Samwell, who had been made Lord of Raventree Hall, that the prince intended to honor him. It seemed that Rhaegar intended to make him a sworn knight, possibly paving the way for land and a castle of his own.
Lyonel cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. His eyes questioned Rhaegar, who nodded, allowing Lyonel to speak.
With Robb's eyes full of expectation, Lyonel solemnly announced, "By the King's will and royal decree, Robb Rivers is granted the title of Lord of Stone Mill."
"Lord!" Robb's hands shook in disbelief.
"That's right, Lord of Stone Mill," Rhaegar confirmed with a smile. "Don't worry, I'll fund the construction of your castle from my private coffers. You won't be living in a thatched cottage."
Robb's eyes welled with tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Your Grace, and thank you, Prince."
Though it was the lowest title of nobility, it was still a title - far above the status of a sworn knight. Stone Mill, a territory ceded by the Blackwoods, was fertile land on the north bank of the Red Fork River, ideal for farming and fishing.
"Now, it's not fitting for a man to cry," Rhaegar admonished gently. "With your new title, you can change your family name, design a family crest, and shed the identity of a bastard."
"Yes, Prince!" Robb nodded vigorously, holding back tears.
After the ceremony, Rhaegar signaled for Robb to take his leave. The appointment of Robb as a lord was both a reward for loyalty and a strategic move to win the support of other Second Sons.
Stone Mill's location between Blackwood and Strong territory also served as a buffer to prevent conflicts. Rhaegar had no fear of Robb's loyalty waning, as the territory's strategic position ensured a delicate balance of power.
Next, Rhaegar turned his attention to Grey Worm.
"Grey Worm," he called.
Grey Worm stepped forward, striking the ground with his spear in salute.
"Grey Worm, do you know how to train the Unsullied?" Rhaegar asked directly.
Grey Worm hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Rhaegar quickly clarified, "I mean the physical fitness and combat training of the Unsullied, without the need for erasing individuality or castration."
With a new territory, Rhaegar needed a strong armed force, and there were none better than the Unsullied.
Grey Worm breathed a sigh of relief. "It can be done, but there is an age limit. Training is most effective before the age of sixteen."
The Unsullied were trained from a young age, developing their unwavering discipline. Training older individuals, whose bodies and minds were already set, was far less effective.
"Don't worry," Rhaegar assured him. "I'll support you fully."
Among the freed slaves were many children and teenagers. Additionally, Flea Bottom was teeming with orphans and bastard children. There was no shortage of potential recruits for their new army.
(Word count: 1,794)