Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Tony was still talking to Shireen when the mountain exploded.

A thunderous boom rolled out from the dragonglass dig site. Dust and rock dust billowed into the air.

"Shit. They must've punched straight through the mountain. Stay here, Shireen—somewhere safe!"

He took off running toward the noise. Davos came sprinting from the other direction at the same time.

They met at the cave mouth just as workers came pouring out, coughing and covered in dirt.

"My lord, we broke through," one of the bigger men said. He was young, broad-shouldered, and covered in sweat. Gendry, from Flea Bottom. Davos knew the boy.

"Gendry, what the hell were you thinking?" Davos snapped before Tony could say a word. "We told you to dig for dragonglass, not tunnel through the whole damn mountain!"

Tony held up a hand. "Easy, Davos. If they managed to break through solid rock, that's strength worth using. Gendry, you're wasting your time swinging a hammer in a smithy. You should be fighting. Like Victor. Quicker, though. Meaner in a tight spot."

Gendry blinked. "You… you offering me a spot, my lord?"

"Damn right. Join my guard and I'll buy your freedom. One swing from you on a battlefield is worth ten normal men."

Gendry hesitated. "Lord Jon Arryn came to see me once. Then he died. You're Lord Stark's nephew. Maybe you should think twice before tying yourself to me."

Tony shrugged. "I'll take the risk. Think it over. We've got time."

Another worker stumbled out of the new tunnel, eyes wide. "My lord—there's something else in there. Metal. Hard as hell. I hit it with everything I had and it didn't even scratch."

Tony's head snapped up. "Show me."

Davos stepped in front of him. "Tony, you're a guest of Dragonstone. The tunnel might still collapse. Let the men check it first."

Tony gave him a crooked grin. "If it falls on me, you've got plenty of hands to dig me out. Come on."

They went in together.

The new cavern was huge and strangely empty, like someone had hollowed it out centuries ago. Tony stopped dead the second he saw the exposed vein.

Dark, silvery metal gleamed under the torchlight. Smooth. Wrong.

"No way," he whispered. "No fucking way. This can't be here."

Davos grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "Tony! What is it? Looks like metal to me. Not gold, not silver, not even copper. Can't mint coins with it. Only good for weapons, probably."

Tony forced a laugh, trying to cover the shock. "Normal tools won't cut this stuff. Needs something special."

He turned to Gendry. "Go on. Take your hammer and see if you can knock a piece loose."

Gendry swung hard. The hammer rebounded with a ringing crack that traveled straight up his arms. He cursed, swung again, and again, until sweat poured down his face and his arms shook. Nothing. Not even a dent.

Davos stared. "Harder than Valyrian steel?"

"Way harder," Tony said quietly. "This is vibranium. Sound-absorbing steel."

A small voice piped up from the shadows. "Is that what the Round Shield Knight's shield is made of?"

They both spun around. Shireen stood there, half-hidden behind a rock, eyes bright with excitement.

Davos frowned. "Round Shield Knight?"

"From Tony's book!" Shireen said, stepping closer. "Ser Steve Rogers. He leads the Howling Commandos and beats Hydra. His shield is made of that metal, right, Tony?"

Davos looked at Tony like he'd grown a second head. "Have you seen this stuff before?"

Tony laughed, short and sharp. "Doesn't matter. What matters is we've got a mountain of it. First we get it out. Victor! Bring the box. Everyone else—back the hell up. This is dangerous."

Victor returned fast with the small wooden chest. Tony flipped it open. Inside sat a stoppered vial of thick green liquid.

"Wildfire!" Davos shouted. He grabbed Shireen and bolted for the entrance. "Run! Everybody run!"

The workers didn't need telling twice. They stampeded out into daylight, leaving only Tony and Victor inside the tunnel.

"Guard the mouth," Tony ordered. "Nobody comes back in until I say."

Victor nodded and took position.

Tony uncorked the vial and let three careful drops fall onto the vibranium vein. He struck flint and steel. Sparks flew. The green fire caught instantly, hissing and spitting as it ate into the metal.

A fist-sized chunk broke free and clattered to the ground.

When the flames finally died, Tony prodded the piece with his sword, then reached for it. The heat seared straight through his glove. He yelped and dropped it.

"Son of a bitch—that's hotter than I thought."

He dug the burn salve out of his kit—the same one he'd brought for Shireen—and smeared it thick over his palm. Once the worst of the pain faded, he picked the vibranium up again. Cool now. Heavy. Real.

He walked out carrying the chunk of vibranium and a few pieces of dragonglass.

Davos was waiting, face pale. "Tony—your hand—"

"Just a burn. Wildfire's no joke. One drop and it'll cook a man alive. Forbidden shit. Demon's work. Death god's work. Fire god's work."

Melisandre's voice came from directly behind him, soft and certain. "No, Ser Tony. Wildfire does not belong to the Lord of Light."

Tony turned. She stood there in her red robes, ruby glowing at her throat like a live coal. She took his burned hand in both of hers and began to chant.

"Renew. Renew. Heal as you were. Heal as you were."

Warmth flooded his palm. When she let go and he unwrapped the bandage, the skin was smooth and whole again.

"The Lord of Light does not burn His faithful," Melisandre said. "Wildfire comes from fire mages who lost their way. Heretics. A disgrace to true power."

Tony flexed his fingers. "So the Mad King didn't invent it?"

"He only used what others had already twisted."

She glanced at the chunk of metal in his other hand and the dragonglass under his arm. "What do you intend to make with them, Ser Tony?"

Tony smiled, slow and sharp.

"A shield," he said. "Just like Captain Rogers'. The round one that never breaks."