Game of Alchemy 3

I grinned as I looked down at the innocuous item in front of me. It looked like a basic piece of metal, not quite the cliche ingot shape, but close. Reaching down, I picked it up and held it in my hand. I was now one of if not the most valuable men in the world, for I had done something that hadn’t happened in centuries. Here, in my hand, was the first piece of new valyrian steel made ever since the Doom of Valyria.

It was a lot trickier than I’d thought it would be, as while there were a few traces of that unknown black substance, the amount was miniscule. To the point that even with my particular gift for deconstruction, if I hadn’t been specifically looking for it I would have missed it. The amount I’d gotten from the single dragon skull I’d deconstructed would be enough to make over fifty blades the size of the Stark sword Ice.

Slipping the piece of metal into my shirt, I rolled my neck and turned my attention to the sword in question. I wondered what that little shit on the throne would do with it, now that I no longer needed to study it. He’d probably give it back to his headsman, it was the right size and shape for an execution sword anyway.

Looking around the workshop I’d been provided, I hummed for a moment, considering just what to present to prove that I’d made actual valyrian steel and not simply reforged Ice. Something that would keep me on Joffrey’s good side, but satisfied my own personal aesthetic tastes as well. In the end, I settled on transmuting a sword. A bit basic and boring, but a safe bet when dealing with a sadist as temperamental as the current king.

I used a few more gold dragons to provide the raw material to decorate the hilt and pommel, some lumps of charcoal to turn into diamonds, and most crucially a piece of dragon bone to form the grip itself and provide the substance to make the ordinary steel into valyrian steel. I’d really need to come up with a name for it, but that could be done at a later point.

The resulting blade was an arming sword, the kind associated with knights in two worlds, with gold filigree running along the handle, one side showing a lion biting down on a wolf’s neck. The lion had a rack of antlers, while on the opposite side the same antlered lion stood proud as a crowd bowed before it, each lion having a diamond for its eyes. Nodding in satisfaction, I transmuted a matching scabbard, with more filigree showing an antlered lion in various flattering poses. Then I wrapped both in a cloth and made my way out of the workshop.

It was still early morning, the time when the first petitioners would come to request the king’s aid or assistance, it was also my best chance to show that I’d succeeded. The goons who’d been keeping an eye on me would also attest that I hadn’t smuggled another blade into the workshop and used that. It helps having the Master of Coin as a friend.

As I approached Joffrey, I could see his eyes light up with interest, and he leaned forward eagerly. His words were laced with a hint of sarcasm, but I could tell that he was genuinely curious to see what I had accomplished.

"Ah, if it isn't the one who claims to be able to make Valyrian steel," Joffrey said with a smirk. "It has been a week since your promise, and I was starting to become concerned."

I could feel the weight of Joffrey's expectations. His eyes bore into mine, and I could sense his impatience growing as he waited for me to reveal my progress.

“Understandably so, Your Grace,” I said as I bowed. “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, and my claims were certainly extraordinary. However, I believe I have succeeded.”

“You believe?” he asked, his voice threatening.

I didn’t let it bother me, and instead pulled the cloth wrapped blade from where it rested under my arm. Looking up, I asked, “If I may approach, Your Grace?”

He waved a hand for me to get on with it, so I approached and unwrapped the sword I’d transmuted. As I did so, I heard more and more whispers in the crowd, and saw growing interest in Joffrey’s face. After the sheathed sword was unwrapped, I held it in both hands and presented it for his inspection. Joffrey came down, picking up the scabbard from my hand and examining the filigree. I saw him grin from the corner of my vision, before he noticed the art I’d inlaid into the hilt.

“A fine choice in the design on the hilt,” he said as he drew the blade. The wave patterns were instantly recognizable, and the whispers grew as the crowd realized that Joffrey held an unrecognized valyrian steel blade. His expression softened, and I could see a glimmer of respect in his eyes. "Well done," he said, his tone sincere. "You have surpassed my expectations. I am eager to see what else you can create."

I held back a grin. I had him now.

[hr][/hr]

A month. That’s how long it took for me to go from a foreigner arriving in King’s Landing to having the King’s favor. With Joffrey favoring me for providing him with a valyrian steel sword, that he promptly named Bloodcarver, and Tommen seeing me as his teacher, I was well secured. Not as secured as I would like, but I had some measures I could take with that.

I’d already been approached by nearly a dozen individuals for valyrian steel, but I’d managed to avoid making any promises. Mostly by claiming that, after the king’s blade, it was only proper that the next swords I made were for the Kingsguard. They were disappointed, but accepting. The few that weren’t were shown out by the Kingsguard, and were more bluster than anything else.

No, the ones who would be the biggest threat to me were Varys and Cersei. Varys hated magic, and Alchemy was almost certainly close enough for him. Plus I couldn’t help but remember all those fan theories back before I was brought here that said Varys was secretly plotting to bring a probable Blackfyre to put on the throne. Cersei was nowhere near as clever as she thought she was, but still clever enough to be dangerous and may very well decide that it would be better if I vanished.

I had a plan for Varys, but Cersei was much easier to deal with. So long as I continued to hold Joffrey’s favor and proved to be a good mentor to Tommen, I’d be alright. In the meantime, I had another project I was working on. The Red Keep had one of the most extensive libraries in Westeros. The ‘in Westeros’ was important, because without a printing press each and every book had to be handwritten. Which meant that books were a lot more valuable, a lot rarer, and took a lot longer to make. The consequence of this? My bedroom bookcases in my original life had more books.

All that aside, I’d been reading the books in the Red Keep’s library in the hopes of finding something that talked about wildfire. I remembered hearing about caches of wildfire hidden throughout the city of King’s Landing, and I strongly suspected that one such cache was under the Red Keep. I had no desire to go up in flame, and I wanted to know if age affected its potency or stability.

Unfortunately, the few texts I’d found on wildfire didn’t specify. Running a hand through my hair, I leaned back in the chair I was sitting in. There was still a Pyromancer’s Guild in the city, but until I had an unrelated reason to go talk to them, I couldn’t risk the questions that would be raised. So that got put to the wayside. Instead, I’d be focusing on making sure that Cersei didn’t decide that I was a threat to her or her children.

I was doing alright so far, but there were tricks I could pull down the line to improve my favorability with her. In the meanwhile, I was going to enjoy my new life. And since I was enjoying myself, I decided to take a walk around the castle. When I emerged onto the parapet, I looked eastward over the city, leaning against the railing.

The wall was high above the rooftops, and when the wind blew just right, I could hear distant voices echoing off its stones. From where I stood, the spires of the Great Sept of Baelor rose into view, their golden domes glimmering in the sunlight. Beyond that lay the rest of the city, all of it spread out beneath me. A few people walked along the streets below, and I idly wondered what they were doing. Who were these people? How did they live? What did they do for fun?

In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t like I was ever going to talk to any of them, I had my own life and my own concerns. The sounds of soft footsteps behind me had me turning my gaze to my left, and I was greeted by the sight of a plump, bald man in robes.

I stood straight and bowed, “Lord Varys.”

“No need to bow, Lord Flamel,” the spymaster said as he stood next to me, looking out over King’s Landing.

“I am not a lord,” I answered as I returned my gaze to the city. It was ironic that I was probably the safest from him right now that I had been since arriving in the city, given his distaste for direct confrontation.

“Perhaps, but that is likely to change, given your apparent doing of what had long thought been impossible. Most surprising, especially considering how the Valyrians were said to use dragon fire to make their steel.”

I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered by how blunt he was being, so I decided on neither. Instead, I focused on his unasked question, “I don’t know about dragon fire, but I do believe that dragons were involved. How much do you know about smithing, Lord Varys?”

He turned to me, an eyebrow raised, and I continued, “There is a story in my homeland, centered around a character named Conan. His people, a tribal culture called the Cimmerians, worshiped a god named Crom. They believed that when they died, they would stand before Crom and he would ask them to tell him the answer to ‘The Riddle of Steel’. I personally thought it a metaphor for how our ancestors would, in ancient times, make iron from ore, but have bits in it that were superior but they didn’t know how to purposely make.

“Steel is an alloy, a mix of iron and a substance called carbon. There are countless sources of carbon that can be added to the iron ore, but I remember hearing stories about how some smiths would add bones from wolves or bears to imbue the metal with the animal’s strength or power.”

I didn’t elaborate more than that. I suspected that there would be certain individuals in Essos who would be grabbing up all of the dragon bones they could. But anything that caused chaos in Essos was good for me, especially if it meant that a certain Targaryan’s dragons were hunted down before they grew big enough to cause trouble.

“Interesting,” Varys said after I finished, looking at me sideways. “You are quite knowledgeable in metallurgy for one of your… gifts.”

I knew that Varys was aware of my conversation with Cersei, when I described how Alchemy worked to her, so I just gave him a flat look. His face looked like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. So, I forced back a sigh, and gave the explanation behind the underlying mechanics of Alchemy again.

From what I understood of magic in Westeros and Essos, it was very different from Alchemy. There technically was an entity that could be contacted, but I had no desire to do anything that would result in me meeting said entity. That was where the similarities ended. Alchemy was one of the more rigorous and rule bound forms of ‘magic’ I’d seen in fiction whereas magic in this world was very big on ritual sacrifice.

The biggest difference though was in the focus. Magic focused on more ephemeral and less material things, whereas Alchemy was all about the physical and the materials that made them. As I watched Varys walk away, his hands hidden in the sleeves of his robe, I had a suspicion that it wasn’t enough of a distinction for the Master of Whispers.

I sighed, it seems I’ll have to kill him.