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Same time – Crackclaw Point, Golden Port
One year can change almost anything. Under Pierce Celtigar's plans and relentless drive, Golden Port had been transformed beyond recognition.
On the eastern side of the Gold Crab River delta, a brand-new castle stood on the highest ground, looking down over the entire harbor and surrounding lands.
This was Gold Crab Castle—Pierce's personal power center, built exactly the way he wanted it.
The entire structure was made of black stone, the same eerie material born from blood-magic construction techniques. It was harder than anything else in the known world, resistant to rot and corrosion, and gleamed with a deep, almost living darkness under sunlight.
If Pierce had fully mastered the old Valyrian secrets, he could have created something as strange and magnificent as Dragonstone itself. Even so, the black stone had already become famous across the Seven Kingdoms. Lords from half the realm were writing to ask how much it cost.
Pierce was already working on ways to lower production costs—he saw another gold mine in the making.
What truly caught the eye, though, was the special coating on the outer walls. Mixed with real gold dust, the surface shimmered like liquid gold in the sun, blindingly bright.
That was exactly why it was called Gold Crab Castle—a deliberate tribute to House Celtigar's golden crab sigil.
These days, across the Seven Kingdoms, people no longer spoke of "the Red Crab." They spoke of "Golden Pierce." The old family name had been left in the dust.
The castle had three main levels, cleverly designed for both beauty and function. The ground floor held the great hall, warehouses, and barracks. The middle level contained the lord's private quarters, guest rooms, and study. The top floor housed the watchtower, a private magic laboratory, and Pierce's most restricted areas.
Inside, every comfort had been added. Glass pipes carried hot water through the walls (inspired by Winterfell's design), and new sealed glass fireplaces warmed every room. Thick Myr carpets covered the floors.
Pierce hated pointless luxury. What he wanted was warmth and real comfort. In a world without modern conveniences, these small upgrades made all the difference.
Right now, in the great hall on the first floor, an important meeting was underway.
The hall was bright and spacious. Tapestries embroidered with the golden crab of House Celtigar hung on the walls alongside trophies and artworks from every corner of Essos.
Around the long black-stone table sat Pierce's inner circle. Platters of pastries and drinks covered the surface, and a huge bouquet of fresh flowers sat in the center, making the whole thing look more like an afternoon tea than a war council.
Pierce sat at the head in a deep-purple lord's robe trimmed with gold. His golden hair caught the sunlight streaming through the tall windows, glowing like molten metal. His pale-violet eyes swept calmly across every face.
After a year of rule, he looked even more composed. The aura of someone far older and wiser than his twenty-one years had only grown stronger.
On his left sat Doctor Feron and Maester Qyburn. Feron still wore his plain scholar's robes, but his face was healthier and ruddier than it had been a year ago—his talents were finally being put to full use on Crackclaw Point.
Qyburn remained as gloomy as ever, yet his eyes glittered with excitement. Clearly his latest experiments were going very well.
On Pierce's right sat Melany, Lys, and Vira. Melany's silver hair was twisted into an elegant knot. She wore fitted leather and a long skirt, her molten-gold eyes showing both tenderness for Pierce and the quiet authority of a lady who ruled the domain in his absence. (Everyone at the top of the hierarchy knew her true status—her prestige in Crackclaw Point was second only to Pierce's.)
The "Sea Witch" Lys sat beside her Dornish deputy Vira. Their hands were secretly linked under the table. Since arriving at Golden Port the two had become Pierce's fleet commanders, training sailors and warriors.
Lys looked sharper and more battle-hardened than before. Vira carried herself with new confidence. Both women now had the unmistakable air of commanders.
Along the rest of the table sat Daggo Payne, Quentin Hardy, and the other local Crabclaw chieftains who had sworn fealty, plus newly promoted officers and stewards. Everyone was dressed respectably and listened with complete attention.
"Then let's begin," Pierce said, voice calm but carrying absolute authority.
Doctor Feron rose first, unrolling a sheet of parchment. "My lord, I'll start with agriculture and industry. Whispering Keep in the northeast has been fully rebuilt, and we've established three large farms around it."
Whispering Keep had once been an abandoned ruin wrapped in dark legends. Pierce never wasted good land. Rebuilding it had been one of his first orders.
"Poultry breeding is going well. Goose and duck numbers are forty percent above target. Egg and meat production already covers a third of the domain's needs."
He paused, frowning slightly. "But we're having trouble with the chicken farms. Some kind of disease is spreading. We've isolated the sick birds and used the maesters' herbal treatments, but the death rate is still high. We lost nearly two thousand birds last month."
Pierce thought for a moment. "Send Osha with a few Shifters to take a look. Their gift lets them sense animals' emotions and physical states. They might notice something we're missing. If it's a parasite or bacterial infection… we may need a more decisive solution."
Pierce's modern theories sounded perfectly normal to these people now. Most of them had studied under him, so words like "parasite" and "bacteria" no longer drew strange looks.
Maester Qyburn spoke up, voice low and eager. "My lord, regarding the blood-magic modification methods you mentioned… we've found a way to replicate and improve them."
"The madmen of Qohor did experiment with reshaping living creatures to create so-called 'perfect warriors.' Most records are horror stories of failure, but a few fragments mention accelerated growth and increased strength…"
His eyes gleamed dangerously. "If applied carefully, we could breed livestock that grows faster, tastes better, and resists disease. Of course, it will require extensive testing and… materials."
Pierce nodded. "You may begin preliminary research, but keep it strictly controlled. I want edible meat, not monsters. Understood?"
"Of course, my lord." Qyburn bowed. "I will be cautious."
Feron continued. "Fisheries are strong. Lady Melany's Crab Bay operation is running smoothly. Thanks to your rotating harvest system, catches are steady. We've also found small amounts of the 'dragon amber' you described. Not much, but every piece is enough for perfume production."
Melany spoke up, voice clear. "We've set up six aquaculture zones in Crab Bay, each raising different species. The fish shoals you created are doing exactly what you predicted—they drive schools into the harvest zones and warn us of predators. However…"
She looked at Pierce, expression serious. "We've spotted ships from the Vale and the Riverlands lingering near the edge of the bay. They haven't crossed the boundary yet, but they're measuring depths and charting currents. I don't believe it's a coincidence."
Pierce had expected this. Crab Bay sat between the Vale to the north and the Riverlands to the west—an incredibly valuable stretch of water. Once it became prosperous, others would start sniffing around.
He tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "Crab Bay belongs to me—from the tide line to the center. If they cross the line, let Lys's fleet deliver a polite reminder. No fighting. Just show them we're watching. If necessary… seize one or two ships and let their lords come beg for their return."
Lys smiled—a wild, pirate grin. "My boys have been itching for action, my lord. The new fleet has thirty ships now. Not as big as the great houses' fleets, but in these waters we make the rules."
Vira added, "As you ordered, we've kept the fleet at a controlled size—fifty ships maximum. Thirty is already enough for patrols and escorts. Each vessel carries forty trained sailors."
Pierce nodded, satisfied. The pirates of the Stepstones and the Three Sisters were useful for making noise, but only the forces he had personally trained and equipped could be trusted.
"What about the army?" Pierce turned to Rosse Bolton, his military commander.
Rosse stood, posture ramrod straight. "My lord, per your orders we're holding at ten thousand total. Three thousand are professional soldiers, stationed at Gold Crab Castle and key strongpoints. The other seven thousand are rotating militia—farmers and craftsmen who train ten days a month. All professionals have new plate armor and weapons. The militia have good leather and standard arms."
He paused. "Most of our officers are still the veteran sellswords you brought in. They've been a tremendous help."
Pierce also maintained a hidden force—his Tyrant wights. Because of heavy losses beyond the Wall, he kept their number at five hundred.
Pierce turned to the local chieftains. "Now—settlement and construction reports."
Daggo Payne spoke first. The former tribal leader now wore fine clothes and carried himself like a true lord. "My lord, my district has taken in three hundred new households—mostly refugees and poor folk from King's Landing. We've built three fishing villages along the coast and two inland farms. Roads are connected, wells and irrigation channels are finished."
Quentin Hardy followed. "Same in my area—over two hundred households. The problem is clearing new land takes time. The newcomers lack tools and seed. First-year harvests will be poor."
Pierce had prepared for this. "Draw from the warehouses. Have the blacksmith shops mass-produce tools. Buy seed from the Reach. Remember, the first year is critical. Once these people survive and see hope, they'll become the most loyal subjects we have. As for any food shortfall…" He looked at Lys. "Increase imports from Essos. Buy wherever it's cheapest—Braavos, Pentos, Lys."
Lys nodded and made a note.
The meeting ran for another hour. Every aspect—progress, problems, future plans—was discussed in detail. Pierce listened, questioned, and decided. The process was efficient and practical.
Everyone present could feel it: their young lord knew every inch of the domain. His questions always struck the heart of the matter. His decisions were sharp and far-sighted.
When the last item was finished, Pierce stood. The room fell silent.
"One year ago this was wilderness," Pierce said, voice ringing through the hall. "Today we have a harbor, a castle, farms, workshops, a fleet, and an army. We have order, law, and hope."
His gaze moved across every face. "But this is only the beginning. Crackclaw Point has the potential to become one of the richest lands in the Seven Kingdoms. We need more time, more people, and more resources. The Seven Kingdoms are heading into turbulent times. Chaos is danger—but it is also opportunity."
He let the words sink in. "Our job is to build the dam before the storm hits. While others fight, we keep our heads down and develop. Keep taking in settlers. Keep building infrastructure. Keep training the army. But do not get dragged into anyone else's war. Understood?"
"Yes, my lord!" the room answered as one.
Pierce nodded. "Meeting adjourned. Doctor Feron and Maester Qyburn—stay behind. I want more details on the blood-magic experiments."
As the others filed out, Melany stepped close to Pierce and spoke softly. "Princess Arianne and her sisters are in the rear garden. They asked if you have time for afternoon tea."
Pierce smiled. "Tell them I'll be there in half an hour."
Melany bowed, a flicker of complicated emotion crossing her eyes, but she said nothing and left.
Only Pierce, Feron, and Qyburn remained. Pierce walked to the window and looked down at Golden Port below. Ships moved in and out of the harbor. Smoke rose from workshop chimneys. Streets bustled with people.
Everything he saw was the living proof of his power—the world he had built according to his own design.
But Pierce knew the real game was only just beginning.
Jon Arryn's death was the first signal. Years of bottled-up tension in the Seven Kingdoms were about to explode.
And he needed to be in the perfect position when the storm broke.
Outside the window, sunlight bathed the golden castle. Sea wind carried the salty smell of new beginnings.
Deep inside the castle, a quiet discussion about the true nature of power was only getting started.