The Red Keep, glowing in the late-afternoon sun, echoed with the soft sounds of music and murmuring voices as the court celebrated the grand reception of Lord Rodrik Arryn. The court had been dazzled by his gifts—first the pristine, crystal-clear mirror that left Princess Rhaenyra breathless, and then the ingenious flight-helmet with an integrated telescopic lens, designed specifically for dragonriders. That very night, nobles from across the capital vied for a moment of Lord Rodrik's time, but he was careful and calculating with whom he engaged.
Rodrik wandered through the hall, exchanging pleasantries and deflecting invasive questions with polite misdirection. His goal for the evening was clear: finalize the procurement of volcanic ash with Prince Daemon Targaryen. As Rodrik approached the outer courtyard, he found Daemon waiting beneath the shadow of a stone dragon sculpture, wine goblet in hand.
"There he is," Daemon said, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "The man who gives mirrors to princesses and fareyes to dragonriders."
Rodrik bowed slightly. "And the Prince who commands the skies and keeps the peace in the City Watch."
Daemon swirled his wine. "Come. Walk with me."
They strolled through the garden paths, the flickering torchlight catching the edge of Daemon's sword. Rodrik kept a wary distance.
"You're quite the marvel here, Lord Rodrik," Daemon said after a few moments of silence. "I've heard the Vale is now the richest kingdom in the Seven Kingdoms. Fascinating. Especially considering a few years ago, it was mostly sheep and rocks."
Rodrik kept his voice level. "Progress is born from need and nurtured by ambition."
"Mmm. So what ambition drives the need of volcanic ash?" Daemon gave him a sidelong glance. "Quite the strange thing to covet. What are you going to do with it?"
Rodrik offered a small smirk. "It's to build my prince. Volcanic ash, when mixed with other ingredients, can make a cement far stronger than anything we currently have. Perfect for enduring fortifications, making roads, trade infrastructure, houses, bridges & any kind of structure."
Daemon said nonchalantly, "But why do we need it we have our own ways to make those things & I think we are preety good at it why would we need this cement?."
Rodrik didn't blink. "Because it will increase the construction speed to more than 10 fold & bring the cost of construction to a fraction of what we are currently paying."
Daemon stopped and turned to face him. "if you say this Cement is this usefull & volcanic ash as per your explanation is a necessary ingredient for it then I don't want to sell it to you I want a partnership 50% of all the profits you make with it forever."
Rodrik, briefly taken aback, masked his surprise behind a slow breath. "How can that be my prince we are bearing all the cost of developing & making the Cement & just because of a raw material you are asking for 50% Thats not fair."
Daemon leaned in, whispering as if sharing a secret, "this is the deal Lord Rodrik, you don't want it then okay."
Rodrik's eyes didn't waver. "Let me think about it & I would also need to discuss this with king also"
For a heartbeat, Daemon's expression tightened, but then he laughed and stepped back. "You're not easy to rattle. I like that."
Rodrik gave a respectful nod. "I try not to rattle when I'm building the future."
"Very well, Lord of Invention," Daemon said with a theatrical bow. "Perhaps we'll do business after all. But don't keep me waiting too long. I'm not known for my patience."
As Daemon strode away, Rodrik allowed himself a quiet exhale. He glanced up at the looming walls of the Red Keep, aware that the real test had only just begun.
The celebrations following Rodrik's presentation of the gifts continued well into the evening. Dignitaries, knights, and noblewomen passed through the halls of the Red Keep, all sharing awed whispers of the "Vale boy" who'd stunned the court with his inventions. But while many were impressed by the inventions, the eyes of one particular young woman lingered on more than just the artifacts.
Inside her private chambers, Rhaenyra Targaryen stood before the mirror Rodrik had gifted her, still marveling at the clarity of her reflection. Her fingers lightly brushed the smooth glass surface as if afraid it might vanish. "It's... like looking into still water," she murmured.
Beside her, Alicent Hightower sat brushing her long auburn hair. "You've been staring at yourself for quite a while now. Are you fascinated by your own beaty?"
Rhaenyra smirked. "No, It's wonder. You've seen the polished bronze we use—my eyes never looked like this. I can see every strand of hair... every freckle. It's like I finally know what I look like."
Alicent leaned forward with a teasing smile. "And the boy who gave it to you? Not much of a knight, is he? He looked like he wanted to sink into the floor when you caught him staring."
Rhaenyra laughed, then paused, a faint blush crossing her cheeks. "He's... not like the others. Not trying to win favor with hollow words or polished armor. There's something about him. He's not handsome, not in the way the court dotes over, but..."
"But?" Alicent pressed, amused.
"But there's something sharp about him. As if he sees more than he lets on. Like he knows a secret about everyone but is not willing to tell them."
"The genius of the Vale," Alicent said with a roll of her eyes.
"Genius or not, I wonder what else hides behind that awkward bow and all those inventions."
The conversation shifted then, but Rhaenyra's thoughts lingered. Her mind wandered not to the mirror or the helmet, but to the strange and serious boy from the Vale who had made them—who had stolen a moment in court by doing what no one expected.
And in the quiet of her chamber, beneath the hum of the court's revelry, a princess wondered if she'd just seen the beginning of a story worth watching.
At the end of evening Viserys invited Rodrik to have dinner with his family & he accepted.