As a boy, even I dreamed sometimes of being not a Stark of Winterfell, but a Dayne of Starfall. Legend has it that the Dornish founder of House Dayne followed a falling star to where it hit the ground. And there, he raised his castle. A fantastic story, I know, but House Dayne has a relic to prove it. Dawn. The most famous sword in Westeros. Forged from the fallen star’s cold heart, and as strong and sharp as Valyrian steel.
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Many Houses have ancestral swords passed from father to oldest son, like my own family’s Ice. But Dawn doesn’t pass to the Lord of Starfall by right. To wield Dawn, a knight of their House must first be deemed worthy. It doesn’t matter if he’s the lord, a younger brother, or a distant cousin. If none are found to be worthy, the blade stays on the mantle in Starfall until the next generation.
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But Dawn hasn’t rested there often. From House Dayne have risen some of the greatest warriors in Westeros. Vorian Dayne, who was a king and the greatest knight in Dorne before he was defeated by Nymeria. Because of his honor, and his prowess, she sent him to the Wall in golden fetters and took his heir as her husband. Joffrey Dayne, who answered Aegon the Conqueror’s demand to submit by invading Aegon’s Seven Kingdoms and marching an army to the gates of Oldtown, where Aegon had been crowned.
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And the greatest of them all, Ser Arthur Dayne. The Sword of the Morning. During the reign of the Mad King, a band of outlaws calling themselves the Kingswood Brotherhood terrorized the forest outside of King’s Landing. Every force sent after them either returned empty-handed or vanished into the woods, never to be seen again. The king was furious and dispatched Ser Arthur of his own Kingsguard to deal with the threat. Ser Arthur didn’t put the villagers to the question or set fire to the woods to smoke out the Brotherhood, as other forces had done. He paid the smallfolk for the food his men ate, brought their grievances to the King, even won them the right to take a few of the King’s deer during the autumn. The forest folk had looked to the outlaws to defend them. But Ser Arthur did more for them than the outlaws could ever hope to do. When a villager led Ser Arthur and his knights to the outlaws’ secret camp, the Brotherhood, to their credit, didn’t flee. One of their leaders, the Smiling Knight, was a madman. Cruelty and honor jumbled together. But he didn’t know fear. Not even when Ser Arthur drew Dawn before him. Soon, the outlaw’s longsword had so many notches that Ser Arthur stopped to let him fetch a new one. The robber knight chose another and then asked for Dawn. Ser Arthur replied, Then you shall have it. The Smiling Knight never smiled again. The mad fool. Dawn is just a sword.
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Ser Arthur was the true steel. Strong, brave, and loyal to a fault. He would never have aided Rhaegar’s abduction of my sister if his vows hadn’t compelled him. And though we fought on opposite sides, I admired him. When I was younger, I wanted to be him. Every boy did.
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And I killed him. Not in single combat, but as he was on his knees, a dagger in his back. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. He wasn’t angry or betrayed. He’d done his duty to the last, even though he found it dishonorable. And even though he knew what awaited me in that tower. Ser Arthur Dayne died the greatest knight who ever lived. After Robert’s coronation, I returned Dawn to Starfall. One day, House Dayne will raise a worthy successor to Ser Arthur. Until then, Dawn gathers dust above the fire, with the dream of every boy in Westeros.
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似顔絵無いので『LOTR：力の指輪』のロバート・アラマヨ
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