The morning sun cast a golden hue over the Eyrie, its halls echoing with the footsteps of assembled lords and their retainers. The war was over, the banners no longer stained by battle, and now, Lord Rodrik Arryn had summoned every noble house of the Vale to gather under the marble roof of the Eyrie to chart the future of their land.
Rodrik stood at the high dais, relaxed yet composed, dressed simply but with purpose. The room fell silent as he raised his hand.
"My lords, my ladies," Rodrik began, voice resonant, "now that the dust of war has settled and our people begin to breathe freely once more, we need to think ahead what is next. I ask you one question: what is essential for a society to thrive?"
Murmurs ran through the gathered lords, unsure of the direction this meeting would take. Rodrik continued.
"The first answer is food. Basic sustenance. Without food, a society crumbles. During the past years, we have implemented crop rotation systems, introduced better farming tools, and provided shared knowledge on land tilling and soil enrichment. Because of these changes, the average yield across the Vale has increased by nearly 40%."
A few nods of approval followed. Rodrik pressed on.
"Second: security. A society cannot grow if it fears the night or the next bend in the road. Our people have long feared the Mountain Clans." He paused, letting the silence stretch before adding with a sly grin, "Thankfully, we don't have to anymore."
Laughter broke across the hall, a needed relief from years of tension. One lord even chuckled, "Aye, those bastards are digging ditches now."
Rodrik joined their amusement briefly before continuing.
"So, we have food and security. Now we need infrastructure: houses to live in, roads to travel, and bridges to cross rivers. For this, our recently surrendered mountain friends will be put to work. According to our plans, it will take a decade to build the necessary roads and housing, and likely five more years for expansion."
There was a quiet murmur at the scope of the project.
"Naturally," Rodrik continued, "all this will require a great deal of coin and oversight. Traditionally, if something is built in your territory, you bear the full cost."
A ripple of unease moved through the nobles.
Rodrik raised a hand. "However, as your liege lord, I will cover half the total costs for each territory."
Cheers and claps rang through the hall.
One bold noble quipped, "You're rich, my lord. Why not pay the whole lot?"
Rodrik, grinning, shot back, "How about for your lands, I cover none?"
The noble held his hands up in mock surrender, and the room laughed heartily.
As the humor settled, Rodrik took a more serious tone.
"So that covers infrastructure. Now comes a harder topic: law. Many of you are aware of the unified law we implemented here in the Eyrie. I propose it be enacted across the Vale."
Tension thickened the air. Several lords shifted uneasily. One said aloud, "Will this not infringe upon our rights as landed nobility?"
Rodrik raised a calming hand. "These laws do not apply to nobles in the way they apply to commoners. Moreover, your decision in any matter can supersede the law in your own lands. But we must be honest with ourselves. We cannot be everywhere. We are wasting time ruling over sheep thefts and marital spats while more vital matters await our attention."
Nods of weary agreement followed.
"So, I propose a judiciary system be implemented in every village and main city. The common folk can resolve minor issues among themselves. As lords, you will each be the head of judiciary in your domain, overseeing your appointed magistrates and judging greater matters."
There was thoughtful silence.
Then a lord sighed, rubbing his temples. "If I never again have to rule over a pig theft, it will be too soon."
Chuckles followed.
Slowly but surely, heads nodded. What had started with uncertainty was transforming into consensus.
Rodrik:
"The next pillar, my lords, after food, security, infrastructure, and law… is health. A healthy populace is a working populace. A strong and enduring realm is one where even the commoner does not die from fever or a wound gone septic."
He paused, letting the weight of that idea settle.
"Healthcare must not be a luxury of the rich and noble. It must be the right of every man, woman, and child who calls the Vale their home.As you know we have started this system but it's a skeleton of the total system that is required"
A few lords exchanged worried glances. Lord Dornegan Belmore of Strongsong, a pragmatic man with silver streaks in his beard, spoke first.
Lord Belmore:
"My lord, noble intentions. But even you must know how costly it is to keep trained healers, herbs, midwives, and leeches in every village. Who will pay for it? And for how long?"
A few muttered in agreement.
Rodrik nodded with understanding, expecting this.
"I do not intend to put a blade to your coin purses without offering a feast in return."
He pulled a cloth from a table at his side, revealing a detailed series of ledgers and small wooden models. His tone shifted, eyes glittering with restrained excitement.
"What I propose is prosperity — true wealth — for each of your houses through ventures uniquely suited to your lands, skills, and standing. Let me walk you through what I've prepared. These businesses are not only new — they are innovations. The gold you earn from them will more than cover your contribution to the people's well-being."
1. House Redfort — Loom-Based Garment Industry
Rodrik first called Lord Creighton Redfort, a stern traditionalist.
Rodrik lifted a covered object and revealed a proto-mechanical loom, the likes of which no one had seen before. It had spinning rods, gears, and a foot-treadle.
"Lord Redfort, your house oversees the largest sheep herds in the Vale. You already have wool. But you sell it raw. What if instead of selling the wool to Braavos and Pentos to be spun and woven, you made the garments here — in the Vale?"
He walked to the loom.
"This contraption, which we've developed in secret in Eyrie workshops, can spin and weave wool at ten times the speed of manual weaving. You will have workshops of your own, employing hundreds, even thousands over time. You will not sell wool — you will sell cloaks, coats, robes… each stamped 'Made in the Vale.'"
Lord Redfort, wide-eyed, muttered:
"By the Seven… This is marvelous ."
2. House Sunderland — Salt-Based Medicine & Trade
Rodrik turned to Lady Elenya Sunderland from the Three Sisters.
"You control the seas and salt — a resource more valuable than people know. Through my studies and experiments with maesters, we've found salt can be used not only for preservation, but in specific purification treatments."
He held up a small vial of saline solution.
"This, when boiled and purified, can treat wounds, keep surgical tools clean, and even help feverish patients. We will build refining stations at Sisterton and export medical-grade salt to all of Westeros."
3. House Waynwood — Quarry & Cement Industry
To Ser Roland Waynwood, Rodrik offered something more practical.
"You command the sturdiest stone quarries. With my volcanic ash compound, your stone can now be mixed into cement stronger than any lime mortar Westeros has ever seen. We will build the future with it — and your house will own the license for stone-cement."
He showed him bricks cured with the mixture. The strength demonstration, where two men failed to break it with a hammer, drew a collective "ooh" from the hall.
4. House Corbray — Surgical Steel & Tool Crafting
To Lord Lyn Corbray, whose mines produced iron, Rodrik had something special.
"We've refined a new method of steel tempering — thin, sharp, durable. Maesters call it 'surgical steel.' You will produce not only weapons… but medical tools, farming implements, precision goods."
He unveiled a surgical knife, gleaming and razor-sharp.
"We will sell these to healers and nobles alike — and eventually, to Essos."
5. House Grafton — Port Trade & Healing Schools
To Lord Qarl Grafton of Gulltown:
"You are the gateway to the world. In Gulltown, I will help build the first healer's academy outside the Citadel — not to replace Oldtown, but to support it."
He gestured to architectural drawings.
"And you will own the shipping lines that bring in herbs, leeches, healing salves, and send trained Vale healers across Westeros — and return with gold."
6. Rodrik's House (The Eyrie) —
"And my house, your liege lord, will provide the seed coin, training, and engineers. Our scholars, our craftsmen, our blacksmiths. In return, we all grow richer — not through taxes, but through partnership."
All the lords got excited thinking about the potential of these buisness Rodrik has told them. They would be rich & their fame would increase a lot.
Rodrik took a pause & knew that this last point he wants to make convincing people of this will be most difficult. He started calming the lord & said " it's not finished my lord we have two more topics to discuss then we can conclude & move towards the celebrations". Lord reluctantly controlled themselves.
Rodrik " After covering all the necessary things for a society to be stable now we need to discuss one key element which drives a society towards growth or without that it stagnates & that is hope".
Nobels couldnt understand what he meant by Hope.
"Hope comes not just from freedom or coin — but from the opportunity to shape one's fate. And that opportunity comes from one thing alone: Education."
Noble Resistance
The room shifted.
Lord Ulric Coldwater stood first, a frown creasing his pale brow.
"Education? For whom, my lord? The sons of merchants? The daughters of stable boys? You'd have farmers teaching their pigs to read next."
Laughter followed, thin and nervous.
Lady Melara Shett of Gull Tower joined in.
"Teach a common girl her letters and she starts questioning why she's sewing for a copper while a noble's daughter is betrothed in silk."
And then Ser Torrhen Hunter, gruff and blunt:
"If they read, they'll want to lead. If they write, they'll write rebellion."
The tone in the room was shifting fast — concern rising like a tide. Rodrik didn't move from his place. He simply raised his voice.
Rodrik's Response — Calm, Firm, Visionary
"I see your fears. You believe that knowledge will birth rebellion. But you are wrong."
He let the silence stretch.
"Ignorance births rebellion. Education gives people a path — to serve, to build, to rise within the world, not burn it down."
He walked slowly to the center of the table, where a simple parchment lay — a farmer's ledger.
"Do you think peasants who can barely sign their names understand tax codes, crop rotations, or legal rights? No. And that is why they fall into debt. That is why they steal. That is why they riot."
He picked up the parchment.
"But give them the means to read a law. To write a contract. To understand their work and their rights — and they don't rebel. They thrive."
A Strategic Shift — Appealing to Nobility's Legacy
Rodrik turned to Lord Corbray, speaking carefully.
"I do not propose we educate everyone to become lords. But if your steward's son could read and calculate, he might become a better steward. If your house guards could write reports, track movements, and read orders, your lands are safer. If your healer's apprentice can read anatomy, your people live longer."
He met every noble's gaze, one by one.
"And if your youngest daughter, born too far from inheritance, wishes to serve the realm through knowledge — is that not better than marrying her off for coin?"
A few lords shifted uncomfortably. Others nodded slowly.
The Compromise: Controlled, Localized Learning
Rodrik sensed the slow turning of the tide and delivered his final offer:
"Each noble house will oversee the schools within their lands. They will appoint the teachers. Approve the texts. You will not lose control — you will extend it."
"We begin with reading, writing, and numbers. Practical skills. Agriculture, health, trade, crafts. No grand books of philosophy. No sedition."
A beat.
"Let us not fear knowledge. Let us control it."
Lady Melara Shett finally spoke, voice cautious.
"And who will fund these schools?"
Rodrik smiled.
"From the profits of the businesses we just built. From a fund overseen by the Eyrie — matched by me coin for coin."
"You will not bear this burden alone. But you will reap the rewards."
There was quiet.
And then — slowly — Lord Redfort stood.
"If my tailors need to learn numbers to count bolts of cloth and track exports, let them learn."
Lord Grafton followed.
"If my shipwrights can read charts and write logs, I will be richer for it."
And Ser Waynwood, practical as always:
"And if a learned peasant makes fewer foolish demands, I will sleep better."
Closing the Circle
Rodrik nodded once.
"Education is not the end of your power. It is the beginning of your legacy."
The Vale lords said no more.
But they did not protest again.
As murmurs of reluctant approval circled the high hall, Rodrik once again raised his hand.
> "There is one last matter I wish to present."
A groan passed among the nobles — theatrical but not entirely in jest.
Lord Eustace Waxley muttered, loud enough for others to hear:
> "What now? A plan to fly the farmers over the mountains on dragon wings?"
Lady Shett, who had just taken a gulp of wine, sighed:
> "Seven help us. What more can there be?."
Rodrik, with a smirk and a flash of amusement in his eyes, simply said:
> "This one… might actually shake the mountains."
Rodrik led the nobles down the winding corridors of the Eyrie to the valley outpost below, where a cleared stretch of land stretched flat and wide — a rarity in the Vale.
There, beneath a linen tarp nearly the length of a hall, something hissed faintly and emitted the scent of smelted iron and warm oil.
Rodrik turned to his guests with an unmistakable gleam of pride.
> "Behold... the Iron Falcon."
With a signal, a group of attendants whipped off the tarp — revealing a sleek, black-painted machine with a long, narrow head like a falcon's beak, and riveted steel carriages behind it. Steam hissed from its funnel. Pipes coiled like veins across its frame. It looked like something born of Valyrian craft but forged in the Vale's iron heart.
The nobles gasped audibly. Some even recoiled.
> "It runs not on Falcons," Rodrik explained, "but on fire — and pressure — and precision."
> "This… is a train. A moving engine powered by steam. It runs across steel rails we lay into the land, carrying men, goods, wagons, and livestock at a pace unmatched by horse or ship."
Lord Ulric Coldwater, pale as snow, crossed himself.
> "You'd have the mountains split for this… Iron Falcon?"
Lord Redfort, ever pragmatic, stepped forward and inspected the engine's wheels.
> "How fast does it go?"
Rodrik gestured for the engineers.
> "Today you shall ride it — from this field to the river curve, then loop back."
As they boarded, apprehensively at first, the Iron Falcon let out a long whistle. The lords braced themselves.
Then — motion. A gentle jolt, then a glide, then speed — faster than any cart they'd known. Wind rippled cloaks, and astonished whoops escaped even the stiffest lips.
Lady Shett, her earlier sarcasm forgotten, gripped her seat with white knuckles but was
> "By the Seven, this Falcon flies!"
Ser Torrhen Hunter leaned out the window.
> "You could move grain in hours that would take weeks."
Lord Belmore was already whispering:
> "This would connect Runestone and Ironoaks… and the coast... in one day."
Rodrik stood at the front of the carriage, the Vale's mountains flying past behind him.
> "In ten years," he called out, "the Iron Falcon will soar through every valley and village in the Vale. From the Fingers to the Mountains of the Moon. From Gulltown to Runestone. A trader from the foothills will reach the coast in hours. A wounded man can be rushed to a healer in time. Markets will open. Steel will flow. Coin will flood."
As the Iron Falcon slowed and returned to its original station, a hush fell over the assembled lords. A different kind of silence — reverent, reflective, shaken.
Lord Grafton, rubbing his beard, finally muttered:
> "You've not just brought peace to the Vale… you're binding it in iron wings."
Rodrik nodded.
> "Peace is not just the absence of war. It is the presence of possibility."
The Iron Falcon let out one last proud whistle.
And the future took flight.