Once more my friends, the time has come. I write the first chapter of stories, if I really enjoy it (As I did this one) I may write the second, or even further. But, you all have my permission to use this as a challenge of sorts. All you need to do is state that the idea came from me, you don't even need to do that its just kindness really. There will be more at the end! FEAR NOT.

At the age of eight, Irik discovered his weapon. As a blacksmith's son, he grew up all around weapons and armour, so had a basic grounding in all of them. He wasn't particularly good, mind you. He was a highly skilled blacksmith, rivalling the skill of Thobo Mott, when smithing weapons, yet not armour.

Irik was walking through the grain fields an hour away from Kings Landing when the farmers and himself were set upon by Bandits. Seeing none of the convention weapons he knew how to use in sight, he grabbed one of the scythe's which were made to cut grain from the ground and used that as a weapon. Later that night, he did some experimenting in the forge.

Now I know what you are thinking, oh reader of mine. "But he is only eight". Well, have you ever seen a blacksmith, they're huge, and as the son of a blacksmith, he was well muscled.

Irik hammered away at his steel when a sudden impulse hit him. He folded the steel he was hammering to try and make the steel denser. It worked.

Over the next three days, he built himself a scythe to use in a fight, with a collapsible handle made of folded steel, so he could use the bar to block. The handle was nearly a metre long, from the butt to the start of the blade. The blade itself was detachable, yet once it was on the pole, it stayed on. The blade was curved like a crescent moon, and stretched thirty five inches, or 90cm long if you measure along the curve.

Later, he would discover how to change the colour of the metal during the forging process, similar to the legendary blade 'Dawn'.

After polishing the blade for so long that the it shone like a star, and dying the pole pitch black, Irik's scythe was ready.

For the next five years, Irik trained extremely hard. He would train with the gold cloak guards in the city watch for five hours a day, while five more hours were used to practice his blacksmithing. His skill in the smithy was legendary, he knew how to reshape Valyrian steel, and had his own theories on how to make it. He made swords for the Kingsguard of Aerys, blades for high lords, and his pride and joy, besides his scythe, was the forging of Prince Rhaegar's blade.

*Flashback boysss*

Irik was experimenting on colouring steel. Since his fathers death two years ago, the eleven year old boy lived only with his mother, and spent the days forging steel to keep his home.

Irik had a few theories, and decided to test creating a purple blade. He went out that morning, and collected a dozed purple flowers from the fields around Kings Landing, crushed them into paste, and mixed them with a small amount of water to make a purple dye.

Irik heated the steel for the blade, and started shaping, not noticing the amused royalty behind him. Once the molten steel was shaped correctly, he allowed the metal to begin cooling, and poured the dye over the slowing cooling metal. When both sides of the blade were coloured purple, he thrust the sword into the barrel of water to cool it completely.

Irik sat down with his back to the door, still not seeing the now intrigued prince behind him, and waited roughly a minute, before pulling the vibrant purple blade from the barrel and laughing like a madman. He placed the blade down on the bench and attached a handle to his new purple sword, and sat down.

Clearing his throat, Rhaegar looked at the boy a few years younger than him curiously. He had been watching the boy practice his fighting with the scythe, and he was highly skilled. After hearing rumour of the boys skill as a bladesmith, he hunted the forge down to commission his blade as was his right as prince of the seven kingdoms.

Irik, hearing the throat clearing, turned around and saw Rhaegar. He was slightly shocked, so he stared at the prince for a moment, before dropping into a bow at the waist and saying "Welcome to my humble little blacksmith Prince Rhaegar, what can I do for you?" Irik asked with a smile on his face.

Rhaegar grinned at the boy, who grinned back at him. Rhaegar decided that he liked him, he didn't try to kiss up to him, just treated him exactly how he would any other customer, as he always asked people to do. "I originally came to commission a blade, but after seeing your little show just now, I think I would like to be slightly more involved in the creation of my blade if you would allow it." Rhaegar finished with a cheerful smile.

Irik had always liked Rhaegar. He treated the people well, both common and nobles, he respected everyone for something, whether it be their political cunning, skill with a blade or their determination to survive, he always saw the best in people. After he heard what the kind prince wanted, Irik grinned back and said "Ahh, saw that did you? Oh well, come to the back, would you mind if I did something im experimenting with to determine the size of your blade? I'm working on currently tailoring blades to people, not the other way around."

Rhaegar nodded excitedly, he never found a blade that was the perfect length for him, it was either to long or too short. He followed Irik to the back where he the smith kept his failed experiments and his notes for better steel.

Irik pulled out a long piece of wood and had Rhaegar hold our his arm, and marked the length on the plank of wood. Repeating this for his other arm, his leg, and from waist to throat, he laid them all down on the table, and did a small amount of numbers. After a few moments, he grabbed another piece of wood and cut it into a rough sword and handed it to Rhaegar and asked "Is that a good length for you?"

Rhaegar grabbed the hilt of the wooden blade and held it out to test it. It felt right. He grinned and tossed it back to Irik the Blacksmith and said "It's perfect. Can I ask, what is this room normally used for?" he questioned curiously.

Irik just chuckled and replied "All my failed experiments and notes. I'm trying to recreate Valyrian steel, and I have an idea about it, but not the means to try."

Rhaegar just looked at him shocked and replied excitedly, "That's incredible! You say you do not have the means? Do I? As a Prince of the seven kingdoms, I have access to more resources than you do." He questions.

Irik chuckled. "Do you have access to a dragon, Rhaegar? My theory is more heat, and dragonfire is the hottest of all the fires. If I used flame from a dragon to heat the forge, I could possibly forge Valyrian steel, but nothing is anywhere near as hot as dragonfire." Irik finished sadly.

Rhaegar froze at the mention of dragonfire. His father was obsessed with the dragons, and believed that when he died he would turn into a dragon. He had recently charged the alchemist guild with recreating dragonfire. Maybe that would work…

Rhaegar's eyes flickered with thought as looked into Irik's eyes and just told him "Il be back in about half an hour, and I may be able to help." And he ran off before Irik answered.

When Rhaegar jumped on his horse, Ser Barristan turned to him and asked "Has he begun your blade yet?"

Rhaegar just flashed an excited grin at him and replied "Nope, we are experimenting." Ser Barristan just sighed exasperatedly at his friends curiousity and excitement as the pair rode towards the red keep.

Rhaegar charged into his fathers office and said "Father, I need a small container of wildfire, it's very important."

Aeyrs, excited that his son may be joining him in his fire fascination, handed him three jars without question.

Rhaegar walked back outside with the three jars in a cloth bag, protecting them from the sun. Ignoring Ser Barristan's questioning gaze, they rode back to the smith where Irik was waiting for Rhaegar.

"Irik my friend, I come bearing gifts and materials for your experimentation." Rhaegar proclaimed and chuckled as Irik's eyebrows rose at his statement.

The three walked inside and Irik cleared everything away from the forge and turned to Rhaegar and asked "What materials may that be, my friend?. Please do note I will be using your sword as an experiment for this." Irik asked amused with his new friends excitement.

Rhaegar walked over to a table, far away from the now dead forge and pulled out the three ceramic containers of wildfire and placed them on the table.

Irik's eyebrows rose and Ser Barristan paled and said "Are you sure Rhaegar? I don't know if this is a good idea."

Hearing Ser Barristan's statement, Irik turned to the jars and opened one to look inside. When Rhaegar saw the grin on his friends face, and could feel the gears in the genius smith's head turning.

Irik rushed over to the barrel of water and poured it over the hot coals to cool them completely. He pumped the gallows for a few minutes solid to dry them to ensure nothing would contaminate his experiment. Ignoring the two pairs of eyes on him, one of which were concerned, while one were both excited and curious, he grabbed two of the three jars of wildfire and poured them on the dry and cold coals.

He ushered the two away from the forge, grabbed a match and threw it on the coals. The bright green flames reached the ceiling.

Irik turned to the Ser Barristan and asked "Would you please go and fill that barrel with water? This might take a while." Barristan nodded and went to fill the barrel. Irik turned to Rhaegar and said "Could you please go and grab a half dozen steel ingots? Il melt them in the wildfire and then reshape the steel." Rhaegar nodded.

When he returned, Irik ignored the heat and dropped the six ingots in the green flames and started pumping the gallows for more heat.

Ten minutes of melting and reshaping later, there was a large blob of Valyrian steel to be shaped.

By the time Barristan got back from filling the barrel, Irik was on his fourth fold of the smoky black steel with a few red strips. Irik grabbed the blade and thrust it into the barrel of water for a few moments.

The pair of excieted teenagers turned to Barristan and just shouted "It worked!" Together and started dancing.

After three minutes of the blade cooling, he pulled it out. The sword was a beautiful black and red sword of two and a half feet long, currently without a handle. Next, Irik made a beautiful pure white steel handle with six rubies, one of each of the four sides of the bottom of the handle, and one on both sides of the blade in the middle of the hilt. Finally, Irik took the soon to be legendary sword and sharpened it until he could shave his face perfectly and polished to mirror point.

Irik grinned at his creation and handed the blade handle first to the awe filled prince. "Such a beautiful sword will need a name, my friend. What will you call her?"

Rhaegar, at the age of sixteen, dubbed what would come to be one of the most legendary swords in history, The Black Fang.

*Flashback end*

Irik was riding alongside Rhaegar within the royal company. They were all on the way to a tourney in Harranhall and were almost there. Irik didn't know why, but he felt like something was wrong, going to happen. He was nervous.

By the time he was in the melee preparing to fight, the feeling only grew stronger.

Irik pulled out his recently made Valyrian steel scythe, the pole was pitch black while the blade was blood red. He figured since he was living under Targaryen rule, Targaryen colours, y'know?

Irik was fighting in the melee, while Rhaegar was deciding to joust. He had always been good at jousting, far better than Irik, who was superior to him in melee fighting.

"Begin!" The announcer roared and the melee began. Irik started weaving through the other fighters with his black and red scythe, knocking his enemies down and knocking them out. Soon enough, there were only three fighters left, Thoros of Myr with his flaming sword, Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard, and Irik, the blacksmith. The audience was rather surprised that the legendary blacksmith who forges weapons of legends could use one.

The final fight lasted a total of four minutes between the three of us. Thoros and Barristan just started to fight and ignore Irik, it was rather amusing if not insulting.

Irik thrusted the long of his blade forward and made both jump over the blade, as he expected. Once they landed again, he pulled the blade towards himself and slammed the butt of the pole into Thoros head, knocking him unconscious.

Irik started swinging his scythe against Barristan, who was hard pressed to block against the length of the blade, not that he could as the force behind it would knock him over. The movements Irik made were fluid, one moving into the next so to leave to openings for Barristan to take advantage of while he slowly pushed him back. Irik kept the attack towards the chest and abdomen, for the entire fight, until he suddently dropped to his knees and swung, slamming the pole of his scythe against the back of Barristans knees, knocking him onto his back. By the time Barristan looked up, the blade of a scythe was at his throat, while his sword was impailed in the sand.

"Yield?" Irik asked cheeky and excited, and his words were heard by the entire crowd who had gone silent. The fourteen year old crafter of legendary weapons had just used a legendary weapon, to defeat a legendary warrior, who used one of the legendary weapons smithed by the crafter. Confusing, huh?

Barristan looked rather shocked that I could fight. "I Yield. I'm rather impressed Irik."

Irik pulled the scythe tip away from Barristan's throat, and held out a hand to help Barristan to his feet.

Irik turned to the crowd and took a short, yet slightly mocking, bow to the silent crowd who looked shocked at the fourteen year old who defeated one of the greatest swordsmen in Westeros, who was also lord commander of the Kingsguard. He turned to where Rhaegar was sitting, and smirking, and gave him a grin and a wink.

The day after, was the jousting. Rhaegar was competing in the finals, where he unseated Ser Barristan.

Irik watched as he received the crown of roses, and rode towards his wife, yet rode past her and named Lyanna Stark the queen of love and beauty.

Irik went pale at the sight of his best friend slighting Ellia Martel, his wife, and by extension all of Dorne. He knew of his best friends foolish ambitions about Aegon the Conqueror reborn. Irik told Rhaegar to give up on his foolishness, but he wouldn't, and now Rhaegar had jumpstarted something he could not stop. War would come to Westeros.

Irik returned to his tent and waited for Rhaegar to enter. When he came in, followed by Barristan, Irik grabbed him by the arm and threw him onto the cushions on the floor, ignoring Barristan grabbing his blade.

"Are you mad Rhaegar, do you know what you have just done?" Irik hissed in anger, shocking Rhaegar. He had never seen his best friend angry before, and it terrified him.

Ignoring Rhaegar's terror, he pushed on "You have just slighted all of Dorne, because you crowned Lyanna instead of your wife. While it may warm the North to you, it will anger Dorne when they find out. You just told them that your wife is not beautiful enough for you, you fool. It does not matter where you move from this point, as many of the paths will lead to a war." Irik finished enraged, shocking Barristan also, as he had not thought of that. Irik stood and walked from the tent, off to find someone to spar against.

When Irik found out what Rhaegar had done, kidnapping Lyanna Stark, he was even angrier. He was pacing in the forge, muttering to himself "Does the fool want a war? Or is he so wrapped up in his dream of Aegon reborn that he does not see he will tear Westeros apart?"

Irik was broken from his musings when Ser Arthur Dayne of Starfall entered the forge. He turned to the Kingsguard and asked "Please tell me he did not kidnap her, tell me she came voluntarily, tell me she informed her father and brothers, tell me my best friend didn't just start a war throughout all of Westeros!" Irik started quietly and camly and finished roaring in anger, throwing his forge hammer across the room.

When Arthur did not reply, Irik just looked at him and said "I'm leaving. I do not wish to watch my best friend tear the country apart in his madness, and when Kings Landing is sacked, I do not wish to receive a blade in my throat."

Arthur nodded sadly and said his goodbyes.

Irik started packing away all of his higher quality items, notes and experiments, leaving not a trace of any secrets of his. Within two hours, Barristan and Rhaegar were at his door. Irik glared at Rhaegar and resumed packing his things.

"What are you doing my friend? Why are you leaving?" Rhaegar asked happily yet confused.

Irik snapped his head towards the ignorant prince, stalked forward angrily and punched him in the face. "You have completely lost your mind Rhaegar. You just started a war that you can not win, and have decided the fate of everyone in Kings Landing who does not leave before the war kicks off. I am not going to wait around to receive a sword in my throat in the sack of Kings Landing after I hear about you being killed. I will live, and since you are not the Rhaegar I forged that blade for, I will not fight beside you in a war you have started in your madness." Irik hissed at his friend, who was shocked.

Rhaegar was confused "What are you talking about, starting a war?"

"You, kidnapping Lyanna Stark. In that one move, you have started a war. The North, Vale, Riverlands, and Stormlands will fight against you, and you just gave them all a perfect reason. The Brandon Stark, Ned Stark and Benjen Stark will fight to get their sister back. Jon Arryn will follow Ned Stark, who is to take over as lord of the Vale when he dies. The Riverlands will follow Brandon Stark and Ned Stark because the two Tully daughters are betrothed to them. The Stormlands will follow Robert Baratheon, as you just KIDNAPPED HIS BETROTHED!" Irik roared in his face. "I am leaving before I have my throat cut, and I suggest that if you are intending to follow through with your little delusion, you let Elia, Rhaenys and Rhaella leave as well. They do not deserve to die for your foolish delusions." Irik finished calmly.

Irik put a lid on the second crate and began filling the third when he heard Rhaegar and Barristan leave his forge. When he had finished the fourth crate, he heard the door open once more, and turned to see Rhaenys, Elia and Rhaella.

Irik dropped to his knees and was slammed into by little Rhaenys who was crying. Irik wrapped his arms around the little girl and stood up, and smiled sadly at Elia and Rhaella over her shoulder. "Summon the spider" Irik mouthed to the older women, who nodded in reply.

I made a few mistakes towards the end, but I love the concept of this story. I was trying to decide on a pairing, and was looking at Irik/Rhaeneys, but that was just too creepy, even for me. Maybe Arianne, but she is younger than Rhaeneys. Anyway, Thanks everyone!