Renly woke to morning light. His muscles ached, but his mind was clear, today was the day he'd go into the mine. He pulled on his dry, stiff clothes and stepped outside.
The village was busy: smoke from cookfires, kids chasing each other, fishermen carrying nets to the port. Elara was peeling turnips by her hut, with a little more bread on the step now. She gave him a shy nod, he nodded back.
He headed for the mountain trail, lit up by the sun. A hint of sulfur was in the air, and he heard the steady clang of pickaxes from the mine.
His men, Phelan, Borin, the two guards, were right behind him. Eldar fell in too, tucking his mended net into his belt, he knew Torvin well, so he figured he could help keep things calm.
They climbed, their boots crunching on gravel in time with the picks. Renly's hands were steady. No more waiting. When the mine's dark mouth came into view through the trees, he knew: today he'd step in, and start making things better.
They climbed, their boots crunching on gravel in time with the picks echoing from above. Renly's hands were steady, no hesitation left. As they rounded the bend, the mine's dark mouth opened up against the rock, and the clang got so loud it felt like it was in his chest.
At the entrance, Torvin was leaning against a rock, watching miners trudge in with axes and out with sacks slung over their shoulders. He spotted them right away, uncrossed his arms, and his jaw tightened, but he didn't walk away. Behind him, a few miners stopped to stare, curious.
"Thought you'd send a runner with some new rule," Torvin said, pushing off the rock. "Or maybe just yell down from the hill. Not actually hike up here."
Renly stopped a few feet from him, his men hanging back a little. "Yesterday I said I'd come," he said. " I keep my word."
Torvin let out a short laugh, more of a huff. "Word from a lord? That's a new one. Prince Rhaegar, he never broke his word. He'd come down here himself, ask how we were doing, make sure we had enough bread to last the week. Then Robert Baratheon's rebellion hit, and Dragonstone held out long after the rest. When his men finally captured it, they told us we had to work night and day. Mining, repairing what was left of the fleet, hauling whatever they needed. They swore it was on Robert's orders, that we'd get extra rations for it, that peace would make us prosperous again. Instead, Dragonstone got poorer, fleet in ruins, ports smashed, food couldn't get across the water when we were starving. When it was all done, all we got was a bag of moldy grain, and a letter from the capital saying we owed Robert for 'bringing order' to the island."
A murmur ran through the miners behind him, someone muttered "Gods rest Prince Rhaegar" under their breath.
Eldar stepped up beside Renly, just a little. His gaze found Torvin's, steady and true. "This little lord though? He came down here to check on us," he said. "Not because he's bored, not because he wanted to sightsee, because he wanted to see our situation for himself. To try and make it better."
"Watching don't fix nothing," Torvin said, but his voice was quieter now. He gestured toward the mine's dark entrance. "You know what's in there? Dark so thick you can't see your hand in front of your face. Dust that clogs your lungs. Stone that breaks more tools than it gives us."
Renly nodded. "Show me."
Torvin blinked, his eyes wide for a second. He'd heard Renly say it yesterday, but he'd figured it was just lord's talk, something to make them feel better for a day. "You're… legit about this?" he said, not quite asking. "You really want to go in there? With us?"
"Yes," Renly said, and he could feel his men shift behind him, they didn't like the sound of that. "If I'm gonna ask you to work harder to fix the port, I ought to know what your work actually looks like."
A few of the miners nearby started muttering to each other. One of them, young, with dirt on his cheeks, spoke up: "You'll last five minutes in there, my lord. The dark gets to everyone."
Renly looked at the kid, then back at Torvin. "Let's see how long I last, then."
Torvin stared at him for a long beat, then let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He turned to one of the miners, an older man with a gray beard and calloused hands. "Kael, grab an extra torch and a helmet. The little lord's coming in."
Kael's eyes went wide, but he didn't argue, just ducked into a small shed by the entrance and came back with a lit torch and a dented iron helmet. He handed them to Renly, who pulled the helmet on without hesitation. It was too big, slipped down over his eyes for a second before he pushed it back.
The miners behind them had gone quiet now, all watching. Even Phelan stepped forward, hand on his sword. "My lord, maybe I should—"
"Stay here with the others," Renly said, cutting him off. "I'm not going in to fight. Just to see."
Torvin led the way, his own torch flaring to life as he stepped into the mine's mouth. The darkness swallowed them up right away, save for the circle of light from their flames. The clang of pickaxes got louder, closer now, and the air grew thick with dust that made Renly's throat tickle.
"Watch your step," Torvin said, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Floor's slick from water seeping in. Lost a man to a fall here last week."
Renly's boots found the wet rock, careful as he followed. Up ahead, he could see other torches flickering, miners hunched over, swings their axes at the wall with every ounce of strength they had. One of them stopped when he saw Renly, stared for a second, then went back to work, harder than before.
"This is what we do," Torvin said, gesturing at the scene. "From sunup to sundown. Rhaegar used to walk this same path, ask each man his name. Remembered 'em all, too."
Renly looked from the miners to Torvin, the torchlight catching the lines on his face, lines from years of this work, years of hardship. "I'll remember," he said, and for the first time, Torvin looked like he believed him.
They walked further in, the tunnel's darkness wrapping around them. Renly's small boots found the wet rock easily, no hesitation in his steps. The dust made him breathe shallowly, but his face stayed calm as still water.
Up ahead, a young miner let out a sharp cry. Torvin quickened his pace, Renly right beside him. They found Leo—fifteen, shoulders hunched, sitting on the ground, clutching his hand. A shard of broken pick lay next to him, blood seeping between his fingers.
"Got it caught when the rock shifted," Leo mumbled, his face pale.
Torvin knelt down, careful not to touch the hand. "Shit. That's deep."
Renly didn't waste a second. He turned toward the tunnel mouth, his voice clear and steady. "Torvin, keep pressure on it with your tunic. I'll go get Phelan, he's outside."
Torvin looked at him, then back at Leo. "You sure? Tunnel's dark—"
"I know the way." Renly gave a short nod, then turned and walked back the way they'd come. The torchlight from Torvin's flame faded behind him, but he didn't falter, he'd memorized every dip and slick spot on the walk in without noticing.
When he stepped out into the sun, Phelan was standing by the mine entrance, his maester's chain glinting, talking to Borin. He looked up as Renly approached.
"My lord? Is everything well?"
"A miner got hurt in there," Renly said, no trace of alarm in his voice. "Hand cut deep by a broken tool. I need you to take a look."
Phelan snapped at focus immediately, his scholarly demeanor shifting into doctor mode. "Lead the way."
Renly turned and walked back into the mine, Phelan following close behind. They found Torvin still kneeling beside Leo, his tunic pressed tight to the wound. Phelan knelt down, pulled out a small flask of wine from his robe, and poured it over the cut, Leo winced, but didn't make a sound.
"Clean edge," Phelan said, examining it carefully. "No damage to the tendons, but it'll need stitching. I have what I need outside, we'll get him out first."
Torvin stood up, ready to lift Leo. "I've got him."
"Wait." Phelan held up a hand. "Let me wrap the wound first so it doesn't bleed more on the walk out."
Renly nodded, his face still calm and steady. "Right. Let's get that done, then we'll go."
When Phelan finished tying the bandage tight, Torvin lifted Leo gently. Renly fell into step right beside them, his eyes on Leo's face the whole time.
They'd only taken a few steps when Torvin spoke, his voice low so only Renly could hear. "Rhaegar was good to us, but when he was your age… he never paid this much mind to such things. He was too busy with books and swords."
Renly glanced up at him, then back at Leo. "Well, he's not just a miner," he said, simple as that. "He's someone who lives here. Let's get him outside so Phelan can help."
Torvin nodded, a soft look crossing his face that he tried to hide. He adjusted his grip on Leo, moving a little slower to make the bumpy path easier.
They walked out of the mine into the bright morning sun, and a few of the other miners stopped working to watch. Leo's eyes were half-closed now, but he was still awake, his breath coming steady.
Phelan led them over to a flat rock near the entrance, having already pulled out his stitching supplies from his robe. "Sit him here," he said to Torvin. "This'll only take a few minutes."
Phelan finished stitching Leo up in five quick minutes, slathering on salve and wrapping his hand in clean linen. Leo sat up, testing the hand, winced, but nodded at Phelan in thanks, and bowing to Renly's direction right after. Kael helped him walk back to the village to rest, and the other miners went back to their work, casting glances at Renly every so often.
Torvin and Renly were left standing by the mine entrance, the clang of picks echoing from inside.
Torvin gestured toward the dark mouth of the tunnel. "Alright. You wanted to see what we're dealing with in there, let's talk straight. The shafts are collapsing in three places. We've got two working picks left that aren't broken. And the dust… half the men have coughs that don't go away, even in the rain."
Renly listened, his small face serious. "How long has it been like this?"
"Been hard as stone here for as long as anyone can remember," Torvin said, running a hand over the rough rock beside him. "Every few generations, a lord comes along who gives a damn, Rhaegar was one of 'em. Kept masons coming in every year to shore up the shafts, got us new tools when we needed 'em. Made it bearable, at least. Then your brother's rebellion hit, his men took over, stripped it for whatever they could carry and didn't care about fixing what they broke. Sent us right back to how it was, maybe worse."
Renly nodded slowly. "So what do you need first? Tools? Masons? Something to cut down on the dust?"
Torvin blinked, no one had ever asked him what he needed before, what they needed. "All of it, if I'm being honest. But tools would be a start. Can't mine much with broken iron."
"I'll send someone to the mainland to get them," Renly said, without hesitation. "He knows what's good quality. We'll get masons too, as soon as we can."
Torvin let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "You're really gonna do this, aren't you?"
Renly looked at the mine, then back at him. "It's not just your mine after all, it's mine as well. We will fix it."
An hour later, at the edge of the village
The sun was higher in the sky now, warming the gravel path. Renly stood with Phelan, Borin, and the two other guards, there were a few of the miners who'd come out to see them off. Elara had pressed a warm loaf of bread into his hands, still dusted with flour, smelling of yeast and salt.
"For the road back, my lord," she said, her eyes soft. "And for the others, too."
Renly nodded, tucking the loaf into the fold of his robe. "Thank you. Phelan's list should be ready soon, he'll send a raven to the mainland by tomorrow."
Torvin clapped his shoulder again, firmer this time. "We'll be waiting. The men, they're already talking about it. About how things might turn around for us again."
"I'll be back," Renly said, and it wasn't just words, he meant it. "Soon."
With one last nod to the village, he turned and started walking up the hill toward the castle with the others, Phelan falling into step beside him.
On the path back to the castle
They walked in silence for a while, the castle's stone walls coming into view above the trees. Then Phelan spoke, his voice quiet but steady.
"You saw more today than most lords see in a year, my lord."
Renly looked down at his boots, kicking at a small rock. "I just saw what was there. The mine's falling apart. The men are hurting. They had one good stretch with Rhaegar, then war broke everything."
"Dragonstone has been neglected for far too long," Phelan said, adjusting his chain. "You're asking a great deal of yourself, for a boy of nine."
"I'm not a boy when it comes to this, I can't be," Renly said, his voice sharp for a second, then softening. "I know I'm small. I know I don't have an army or gold to spare. But I have my eyes and my mind. And I have you."
Phelan smiled, a small, gentle thing. "I am at your service. The list is complete, tools, masons, cloth for bandages, and herbs for the miners' coughs. It won't be cheap, but we can stretch the castle's stores enough to cover it."
Renly didn't answer right away. He looked up at the castle, then back at the village below, gaze distant, like he was still seeing the mine, still seeing Leo's pale face. After a long beat, he just said, "Thank you. For the list, and for helping."
Phelan looked out at the same view, his hand resting on the link of his chain that represented healing. "I served Rhaegar for fifteen years," he said quietly. "I say this without offense, my lord, but I see him in you. Truly. But only greater." He paused, then looked directly at Renly, his voice clear and true. "He cared. But he lacked what you have now, the strength to ignore the rules of the game and go above, beyond, around, under them. Do not lose that, my lord."
They kept walking, the castle gates now just ahead, the warm bread heavy in Renly's hands and a clear picture of what needed to be done in his head.