Game of Thrones Iron Stark

On the black sand beach of Dragonstone, workers finished loading the last heavy crate of dragonglass onto the waiting ship. Tony exhaled in relief as the final box was secured.

Every merchant vessel in the area had been pressed into service under Stannis's name. Dragonstone was his seat, after all.

"I wonder where Victor and the others are right now," Tony muttered. "Hope they reached Eastwatch in one piece."

"Lord Tony!" Gendry came jogging up in full armor, sword bouncing at his hip. The former blacksmith's apprentice had grown into a proper warrior. "A ship's coming in under a golden rose banner!"

Tony rubbed the short stubble on his chin. "Tyrells from Highgarden. What the hell do they want here?"

He decided not to guess. "Let's go meet them. Could be Loras… or someone else entirely."

He smiled at the thought of Margaery Tyrell. Her reputation for beauty had reached every corner of the Seven Kingdoms, and Tony had always appreciated a woman who turned heads.

The ship docked. A gangplank was run out. A wheelchair was carefully lowered, carrying a young man who looked a lot like Loras Tyrell but older, calmer, and far more serious.

"Willas?" Tony frowned from a distance. No way Loras would be in a chair. And the age was wrong.

The attendant pushing the chair stepped forward and spoke with formal pride.

"Standing before you is Willas Tyrell of Highgarden, eldest son of Lord Mace Tyrell, Warden of the South, and rightful heir to Highgarden."

Tony bit back a laugh at the stiff introduction. Gendry stepped up beside him without missing a beat.

"Standing before you is Tony Stark. Youngest maester in Citadel history, knighted by King Robert himself, and nephew to Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and Hand of the King."

After the formalities, Tony took the small stool Gendry brought and sat right beside Willas's chair.

"Willas. You sailed all this way for dragonglass? Bit rough on the legs, isn't it?"

Willas gave a dry laugh. "I'm not here for stones, Lord Tony. I heard you healed Princess Shireen's greyscale. I want the same for my legs. Highgarden will pay one hundred thousand gold dragons if you can do it."

Tony laughed out loud. "Even if your legs were completely gone I could fit you with working prosthetics. Gendry, get a raven ready. I need to write to my old classmate Coben at the Citadel. He's the real expert on injuries like yours."

Medicine had never been Tony's strongest subject, and Willas's wound was years old. Coben was the right man for this.

Willas studied him for a moment. "The great tourney in King's Landing is about to start. Robert's calling it the 'First in the World.' You're not going to watch the show?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. Robert wanted a champion like no other tourney had ever crowned. But Tony had a feeling someone else had planted that idea in the king's head. The question was who.

Far out on the open sea, a single ship drove hard through the waves, sails full, hull rising and falling with every swell. The crew stood steady at their posts, eyes locked on the northern horizon.

They carried dragonglass for the Wall. Nothing else mattered.

After days of rough sailing they finally sighted land.

Victor tossed a heavy bag of gold coins to the hat-wearing captain who had tried to rob them earlier. The man's pirate ship was now theirs.

"You earned this," Victor said. "Try anything stupid and you won't get another chance."

The former pirate weighed the bag in his hand, then glanced at the crates of black stone being unloaded onto the dock.

"What the hell are you hauling all the way to the end of the world? Weapons? Some kind of treasure?"

Victor grinned. "Join the Night's Watch and maybe you'll find out. Your crimes get wiped clean. Serve the realm instead of robbing it."

The pirate captain shook his head fast. "No fucking way. Those crows can't even touch a woman. I'd rather keep sailing free and chasing real gold."

He hesitated, then added, "Heard a big pirate from the Iron Islands — Greyjoy blood — supposedly found some legendary dragon horn. That true?"

Victor's smile sharpened. "There's a Horn of Winter beyond the Wall. Worth more gold than you could fit in a house. Enough to keep you and your crew fat for eight generations."

The pirate's eyes lit up. He ripped off his hat and threw it into the surf.

"Fuck it. My brothers and I will take the black. We'll go north of the Wall and bring that horn back. Deal?"

Victor clapped him hard on the shoulder. "Welcome to the Watch, brother."