Game of Thrones Iron Stark

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Tony spent three straight days at the forge on Dragonstone. When he finally stepped back, the round shield was done. Dragonglass and vibranium fused into one smooth, dark disc that caught the light like oil on water.

The workers stared. A maester who could swing a hammer like a master smith was not something they saw every day.

Gendry wiped sweat from his face. "My lord, did you train under a blacksmith too? Tobho Mott in King's Landing charges double what anyone else does, but his work is the best in the city. He's one of the only three men in Westeros who can work Valyrian steel. He says so himself."

Tony set the shield down. "He was my master. I learned the basics from him. But I kept going after I left."

Gendry's eyes lit up. "Your work is cleaner than his. Stronger. If I could learn even half of what you know—"

Tony cut him off gently. "You're not a noble, Gendry. I am. I can't stay at the forge forever. But if you want to learn, I won't stop you."

Shireen watched from the side, eyes wide. "Tony, you're a maester and a knight and now you make weapons too? Is there anything you can't do?"

Davos snorted. "Can he squeeze out a baby, little princess? Because that would be a useful trick."

The yard burst into laughter. Shireen's face went red. "Davos! He's my father's guest. Show some respect."

Tony didn't laugh with the rest. He'd changed since the old days. The arrogant bastard who thought the world owed him everything had died the day Pepper told him those words in another life. Now he was just a man trying to keep the people he cared about breathing.

He looked at Davos. "I can't give birth, Ser. But I can deliver one. If your lady ever needs help, send for me. I've done it before."

Davos turned the color of a boiled crab. The laughter got louder.

Victor stepped forward, eyeing the thin-looking shield. "My lord, it doesn't look like much. Will it actually stop a blade?"

Tony picked it up and walked to the open ground. "Only one way to find out. Come on. Hit me."

Victor held up both hands. "I can't do that, my lord."

"I'm telling you to. Trust me. Hit the shield, not me."

Davos drew his sword instead. "I'll do it."

He swung overhead with everything he had. The blade rang off the shield like it had struck a mountain. The impact ripped the sword from Davos's hands and sent him flying ten feet backward. He landed hard on his ass.

"Seven hells," he wheezed when they helped him up. "That's not possible. No shield should throw a man like that."

Tony turned to Victor. "Your turn. Put your back into it."

Victor hesitated, then lifted his massive greatsword. "Forgive me, my lord."

He came in with a horizontal cut that would have split a horse in half. The sword hit the shield and shattered with a scream of breaking steel. Victor staggered back more than twenty yards before he stopped, both hands shaking and numb.

He stared at the broken blade, then at Tony. "My lord… this shield will stop anything in this world."

Shireen clapped her hands. "Tony, you're amazing!"

Tony grinned. "Not just blades. Any weapon. Gendry, grab your forging hammer. Everyone else—get closer. Watch carefully."

They moved in, curious and a little nervous. Gendry spat on his palms, lifted the heavy hammer one-handed, and swung with all his strength.

The shockwave that followed knocked every man in the yard off their feet. Bottles shattered inside the castle. Melisandre's carefully arranged potions exploded across her floor. Only Shireen stayed standing—she had thrown her arms around Tony's waist at the last second.

Dozens of men lay scattered in the dirt, staring at the shield like it had just stepped out of a song.

Gendry dropped to one knee in front of Tony, hammer still in his hand. "My lord. I want to serve you. Let me be one of your guards."

Tony's voice was steady. "Then you have a place at my table for as long as you want it. I'll see you knighted if that's what you choose. My family will respect you. And you'll be paid what you're worth."

Gendry bowed his head. "Thank you, my lord."

Tony helped him up and clapped his shoulder. "You can lead men into battle or you can stay at the forge and learn what I know. Your choice."

Gendry thought for a moment. "I'll smith for now. Fighting gets men killed too easy."

Later that evening Melisandre stormed into the yard, red robes snapping, fury in every step.

"Tony Stark! You shattered every potion I own!"

Tony didn't even look up from cleaning the shield. "Most of them were just colored water meant to scare people. We both know it."

She stopped. "Some were real."

"Then name your price. Gold? Something else?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You studied potions at the Citadel. The forbidden ones. I want what you learned."

Tony sighed, then nodded. "Victor. Bring the box."

Victor returned with a small wooden chest. Inside were several thick vials of swirling liquid.

Melisandre lifted one. "What is this?"

"Polyjuice," Tony said. "Drop someone's hair in it, drink it, and you become them for about half an hour."

She studied the vial for a long moment, then smiled for the first time all day.

"This," she said softly, "will do."