AN: Hey everyone, as always thanks for the reviews. I just wanted to say I have more than one request to provide both a map of First Forge and Newport as well as how I view there new armor and weapons. I have no talent when it comes to drawing and anything I might provide wouldn't do justice to what I have in my mind or give the sort of detail people want on the cities. So I do apologize on that front.
For those who critiqued the battle, I understand your issues with it and in the future I might take the time to rewrite it but as of right now I'm not going to go back. As for the guest reviews...
newbie:You're going to have to wait and see how things go between the Watch and the Norfolk.
Help: I would say both things are possible, and even likely in the case of Melisandre.
Lannister'ed: I will give the best answer I can. Val I would compare to Kathryn Winnick who plays Lagertha from Vikings. As for Harry, if you are looking for a specific person I would say Luke Evans is closest to how I picture him in my head when writing.
coldblue: 1) I'll let you find out 2) No skip yet, I did cover over a year in the past two chapters 3) Kind of like Vanishing Cabinets 4) Other way around 5) Possibly
Jeor Mormont stared at the report in front of him in absolute astonishment. Of all of the outcomes I never would have expected this. The report came directly from his First Ranger. Benjen took a special interest in the now finished hostilities between the two largest groups of wildlings and the end result. He managed to watch the proceedings of the battle from within the Forest, undetected by the wildlings within and had provided the Lord Commander with great detail of the proceedings. The people along the coast have doubled in size and the most violent among the wildling leaders have been slaughtered in the process. Jeor felt this should be cause for celebration. The only predominant group of wildlings remaining along the southern portion of the Milkwater were those under Varamyr Sixskins, and the only group west of the Frostfangs were the cannibals along the Frozen Shore who often kept to eating and killing among themselves.
Unfortunately for Jeor, he knew the brothers of the Night's Watch would be far from unanimous in their opinion regarding this new development. Led by Ser Alliser, there was already a contingent of some fifty men pushing for action to be taken against First Forge. With Mance joining them and doubling their strength, the fervor would only grow. Before departing to scout the battle, Benjen came to blows with the man more than once as he contested the proposed action as reckless. And he is right. Between our three remaining castles we number little more than 500. We would be decimated if we went against them.
Ser Alliser was perfectly aware of their lack of men and had recommended that they send word to the capital… or at the very least the Northern Lords that they might provide aid to the Watch against 'the ever growing threat'. The surly man seemed incapable of believing this group would remain north of the Wall much longer and that given the time they would come in force against the South. This new unification would only serve to strengthen the man's resolve.
The Old Bear stood and made his way out of his quarters and in search of Maester Aemon. The old man provided the best of council to the Lord Commander, just as he had Qorgyle before him and more than half a dozen others before him. When finally he came upon the old man, he was feeding scraps of meat to the many ravens in their cages.
Before Jeor could speak Maester Aemon's soft voice cut through the cawing, "Lord Commander, what might I do for you?" Despite being blind, Aemon possessed an uncanny ability to recognize when someone was near. Though how he deduced I sought him out is baffling.
As though Mormont spoke aloud, Aemon answered the unasked question, "You are troubled my Lord, and have been for quite some time now. You have sought me out more in the past month than in the first five years of your command here."
"True enough," responded Jeor gruffly, "the matter of the wildlings is troubling, and you are the best man to offer advice."
"Over sixty years I have served as maester of the Night's Watch but as I have told you in the past when you have sought out my council of late, I have no experience from which to guide you in this." The topic of the wildling movements had been the only matter of conversation between the pair recently but the maester had yet to hear the most recent news.
"Maester Aemon, the battle between the two wildling groups happened three days ago. Benjen just returned from his ranging and gave me a full report," Jeor paused as Maester Aemon turned to look at him with unseeing eyes, "The Weeper, Harma, and Rattleshirt are dead."
"Good news," Aemon stated plainly, "they represented the worst of the wildlings. Though I notice you failed to mention our former brother."
"Mance Rayder convinced the majority of those who followed the other three to join with him instead. He allowed the groups to attack the walls of First Forge where they were slaughtered. He then ran up a white flag calling for a talk with Harry." Jeor shook his head, "They reached some sort of agreement and mere hours later the entirety of Mance's remaining group walked through the city's open gates."
If this information surprised the old man, he didn't show it. Instead he just 'looked' calmly at the much younger man, "So they have joined together then, hmmm? It was among the many possible outcomes to the battle." Aemon's unseeing eyes still managed to bore into Jeor as he continued, "What do you plan to do about this turn of events Lord Commander?"
Jeor brought his hand down to the pommel of his family's ancestral sword and grasped at the bear's head almost subconsciously, "That is why I have sought you out before any other Maester Aemon. My First Ranger will counsel patience, as these Norfolk have done nothing to harm us. Ser Alliser will urge me to attack and call as much support as I can for the endeavor. You have been supportive of Benjen's position in the past, but what say you now?"
"What has changed save their number Lord Commander?" Aemon reasoned, "Does their number change their behavior? I would certainly think not as it hasn't in the past." He threw another piece of meat to the ravens, "My lord, there is no doubt you are in a difficult situation. You don't wish to be forced to react should there be unexpected aggression but you also have no desire to attack without provocation." Jeor had the urge to sigh, he was well aware of his precarious position.
"Thank you for summing things up so nicely maester but you failed to give me your opinion on the matter."
Aemon smiled lightly, "I have seen the best and worst of men Lord Commander, and I am not simply referring to the wildlings." Jeor could understand the sentiment. Many of the worst people he'd met in his time were the nobles who considered themselves above their people. " I cannot say for certain that the Norfolk, as they call themselves, will remain in the north forever but I can say they don't seem among the worst sort of men and if what Benjen tells me is true, their leader seems to me among the best."
"So what is your counsel then?" Jeor pressed. He was a man who rarely doubted himself but this was an entirely new situation to him, going so far as contradicting everything he learned as a child regarding those beyond the Wall.
"You must inform Lord Stark of the new situation if nothing else. He is not the sort of man quick to action but he will want to know of this new development as it effects his people most of all." Aemon finally gave his opinion of the situation, "As for the Norfolk, you cannot attack them outright. Whoever you send would be slaughtered and you would only bring their wroth down upon the rest of the Watch."
Jeor nodded to himself, his resolve bolstered by Aemon's similar thoughts on the matter, "There was one other thing though maester, Benjen saw one man outside the walls fighting that seemingly didn't belong. He appeared Dornish in both his choice in armor and look."
Aemon's brow furrowed, "There was no word of Dornish ships from Eastwatch."
"My thoughts exactly," Jeor responded simply. There was an unspoken concern between the pair at the strange bit of news."
As Jeor walked over to a desk in the room and grabbed a piece of parchment Aemon spoke once again, this time in warning, "I would remind you Lord Commander to be wary of those around you. While Ser Alliser does not hold sway over the opinion of most of our brothers, he will likely do whatever he views as necessary in the situation."
The Old Bear started writing a letter to Lord Stark and without looking up responded Aemon, "I know the sort of man Thorne is maester. Hopefully a letter to Lord Stark will be enough to placate him and those who share his opinions for the time being." The old maester nodded slightly before making his way, alone, out of the room. Aemon had a steward to attend him but the Targaryen knew the castle better than any other and could get around unassisted with relative ease.
When he finished his letter, Jeor stood and approached the many ravens. He knew the one trained to travel to Winterfell quite well and quickly attached the piece of parchment to its leg before sending it on its way. He left at a brisk pace uninterrupted until he reached the courtyard where he could hear quite the commotion.
Ser Alliser and Benjen were in the middle of it, many of the men watching the pair with rapt attention. It would have been too much to ask that the news remain quiet for just one day. Jeor's stride quickened to stop what would likely come to blows at any moment.
Ser Alliser's voice rang out over the courtyard as Jeor approached, "I never took you for a wildling lover Stark, but then they do say you Starks are descended from Bael the Bard a couple hundred years back. Maybe some of that blood is showing itself." It was an old legend, one that claimed a man who would one day become King-Beyond-the-Wall, Bael, impregnated the daughter of one Lord Brandon Stark after being called a coward. Bael's bastard son went on to become Lord Stark, as the line had neared extinction. The current line was descended from the same man.
Benjen didn't rise to the verbal attack though his flared nostrils were enough to show his displeasure with the former southern knight, "I love no wildling Thorne, but I know a threat when I see it and the people at First Forge are no threat to us."
"And why is that Stark? Simply because you've met the man who leads them you think you know their intentions? Or maybe that is just it? You know the leader far bet…"
"Enough of this!" Mormont roared as he came to stand just a few feet away from the quarreling pair. He gave them a hard look that had them both silent, though neither looked particularly contrite. The Old Bear continued more calmly, "For those who don't know," His voice carried over the slight murmurs in the gathered black brothers, "the Free Folk at the settlement known as First Forge have doubled in strength after a battle yesterday between the Norfolk and a group led by Mance Rayder." Many seemed surprised, clearly unaware of what caused the argument between the First Ranger and Ser Alliser, instead merely watching for the entertainment.
"And what do you intend to do about the situation Lord Commander?" Alliser asked expectantly. So he wants to push the issue here in front of everyone in the hopes that he might be able to gather more support.
"I sent a letter to Lord Stark informing him of the situation. I shall also inform our brothers at the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch of these new developments." The knight's scowl deepened, "There is little else to be done given the situation. Should we wish to take action we will need support from the south considering the Norfolk appear to have no intention of attacking us here."
Benjen spoke up then, "Not to mention they have many a ship they could use to simply bypass the Wall at this point. They have no need to come against us in force here, it would be foolish." Many heads could be seen nodding in agreement with the sentiment. This seemed to take the wind from Thorne's sails though he recovered quickly.
"All the more reason we should deal with them now before they have any ideas about going south." Soft murmurs could be heard, some in agreement.
"Something that would be hopeless with the Watch alone," Jeor countered. "Should we wish to take them where they live, we would need outside help or there will be no more black brothers to guard the Wall."
"Yet you have only informed Lord Stark of the situation when the southern lords should know as well." Alliser pressed.
Benjen scoffed, "Southerner's care little for what happens this far north. Tell them of the situation and you will be met with nothing but weak platitudes that the Watch can handle whatever might come." Alliser couldn't really argue the Benjen's point, he was well aware that southern lords cared only for the Wall as a way of ridding themselves of unwanted criminals. It was an absolute novelty any southerner, noble or otherwise, ventured to the Wall willingly.
"The King should be informed at the very least," Alliser insisted, "They could very easily become a threat to his realm when you consider the ships our First Ranger made quite clear can be used to come south."
Jeor paused a moment, "This situation is not so dire that I feel it necessary to send a message to King's Landing. I shall allow Lord Stark to inform his old friend should he feel it necessary." Alliser ground his teeth unhappily. He knew that Benjen had long since convinced his brother there was nothing to be feared from the wildlings in their new city.
Instead of arguing though the middle-aged knight gave a stiff nod, "Very well Lord Commander, it shall be as you say." Jeor watched him go with ten of the black brothers following in his wake. He looked to Benjen who merely shrugged and left in the other direction. Jeor sighed and turned to head to his quarters as he originally intended.
That night another raven left Castle Black, its destination farther south than the first.
Eddard Stark sat in his rooms in the warmth of Winterfell, reading over the missive Maester Luwin just delivered to him from Jeor Mormont. He knew the Old Bear well, having fought with him during the Rebellion before he left Bear Island to his son. Jorah proved to be less of a man than his father, selling poachers to Tyroshi slavers and fleeing to the Free Cities when Ned came to dispense justice.
Ned shook himself and read the piece of parchment in front of him one more time. What to do now? He found the entire situation north of the Wall intriguing at the very least. Many northerners, particularly the Mormonts, Umbers, and Karstarks bemoaned wildling raiders in the past; something which had all but stopped as of late. If Mormont was to be believed that was because a near majority of the wildlings, particularly those further in the south, joined up with these Norfolk.
The Warden of the North considered his options. Many would expect him to root out the potential threat, but Eddard was a reasonable man and wouldn't attack a people for simply existing. Particularly when they are well-armed and outnumber the potential men I can raise. Not to mention I would have to march into lands they know far better than any of my bannerman. Granted the northern bannerman would be more of a threat to the city than untrained, inexperienced wildlings but Ned really couldn't account for the potential of the 'Witch-King' in battle. So, he really wasn't inclined to call his banners and march north of the Wall.
So that left him with two other options. He could sit and do nothing, allowing the Night's Watch to handle the situation to the best of their abilities. Something that seems an impossible task considering the size of these Norfolk and how far the Watch has declined in recent years. The other option, and the one that Eddard was leaning toward taking, was venturing north of the Wall. He wanted to meet this man and see for himself the extent of the growth that had taken place there. Ben seems to trust him and that more than anything is a reassurance that he means well if nothing else. Ned's jaw tightened minutely. Then again he wouldn't be the first man with good intentions to do something terrible.
Ned turned away from the parchment fully as he heard a noise by the doorway. Standing there was his lovely wife, Catelyn. She was middle height with long auburn hair and deep blue eyes. She wore a simple grey dress and furs around her shoulders. Their match hadn't been one born of love but of necessity. She was meant for his brother but over the years they came to love each other.
She strode gracefully into the room, "Who is the message from Ned?"
He pulled it from the table and handed it over to her as she leaned against his desk, "Read it for yourself Cat." Her eyes quickly scanned the admittedly short message before turning on him a question clearly on her mind.
"What do you intend to do about this?" She asked quickly. She wasn't that concerned about the actual decision but she was worried her husband might once again be going off to battle and away from their family. It had been six years since the Greyjoy Rebellion and she had no desire to see him leave again.
"I don't intend to raise the banners if that is what you are asking," She took a noticeable sigh of relief and Ned gave her a small smile, "But I think I ought to visit the Wall, see how things are going at the remaining castles and perhaps even visit this city-beyond-the-Wall." Cat just looked at him surprised for a few moments before finally commenting.
"I can understand visiting the Wall, Ned, but do you really think it wise to visit a city of wildlings?" She was clearly unhappy with the idea.
"According to Benjen, they are no longer the uncivilized nightmares that time and time again Old Nan uses to scare the children. Instead they keep to themselves and while not welcoming of outsiders, they will at the very least speak with them." He gestured to the letter in her hands, "You read just as I did that there was a foreigner amongst their number during the fight, a Dornishman if what Ben saw was correct." Honestly, Ned thought his brother putting himself so close to danger for the sake of information was reckless but he obviously survived and there was little he could do about it now.
Cat shook her head and placed the letter back on the table, "I read Ned but I don't think the possibility that they accepted a Dornishman among them is enough to warrant you visiting their city."
"I have no intention of going alone," Ned began hoping to soften his wife to the idea, "Rodrik shall come as well with at least a portion of the household guard." Here Ned paused momentarily, "And I think it would be good for Robb to see the Wall, I suppose Theon will want to come too." Cat made to protest but Ned raised his hand, "I will not have him come with me to First Forge when I go but it would be for the best."
Cat looked down to the slight bump on her belly, "And what of our newest child? Shall you be away from home when they are born as well?" There was a sharp edge to her voice. Of their four children, Ned was only in Winterfell for two of them, Arya and Bran. With Robb and Sansa, he was in the south fighting Robert's wars.
Ned grasped her hands and pulled her closer, "It takes two weeks to reach the Wall at a slow pace and I will spend maybe a month there. I will be back in plenty of time to see our next child born." Cat huffed lightly but nodded her head in agreement. He pulled her slightly closer and gave her one of the tiny smiles that rarely graced his usually solemn face. When they pulled back his expression turned serious once again, "Jon shall come as well."
Catelyn's eyes snapped to his at once and he could see the slight flare of anger in them. He knew quite well that she didn't like the boy but Jon was Ned's blood and he would never treat him as anything less. Ned cut her off before she had the opportunity to speak, "Benjen tells me he wishes to join the Night's Watch someday," this seemed to brighten Catelyn's mood, "taking him to the Wall seems an appropriate thing." She stared a long moment at him before waving her hand airily.
"All the better, he won't be able to cause trouble here if he is with you at the Wall." Ned resisted the urge to point out that Jon was the only one less likely than Sansa to cause trouble as he was well aware the repercussions would be harsher because of his station. The only time the boy ever gets into any sort of trouble is when little Arya drags him there willingly or not.
Instead of voicing his opinion he merely nodded at his wife, "It is decided then, we shall leave in two days." Cat stood after giving him a brief kiss on the lips.
"I shall go and check on the girls, they should be in their lessons but with Arya it is best to be sure." That was certainly the truth, the little girl was a stark contrast to her older sister.
Ned followed her to the door where they separated, Ned heading for the practice yard where he was sure to find Jon, Robb and Theon. A short walk later and he found the three of them. The heir of the Iron Islands, Theon Greyjoy was a lean, handsome youth of six and ten. He had a bow in his hand, quite the common sight, and was littering the many targets with arrows.
At one and ten, Robb had grown significantly of late now less than a head shorter than their older ward. He had a strong build for his age but his increased height caused him some balance issues while fighting. His auburn hair stuck to his head from sweat as he stood within the yard wearing protective gear and holding a blunted practice blade. His blue eyes were focused on Jon across from him.
Finally, there was Jon who was of an age with Ned's trueborn son. He looked a Stark more than anyone else in the family. He stood only an inch shorter than Robb. He was lean and quick, something that showed in his developing swordplay. His dark brown hair fell to just above his shoulders and the beginnings of a beard that all young men tried to grow was beginning on his face. His eyes were so dark they bordered on black, and held the same level of concentration as the boy across from him.
Ned's youngest son, Bran, sat nearby staring in fascination as the two older boys started hacking at one another with Rodrik's guidance. The Lord of Winterfell merely stood and watched for a long moment as the boys practiced.
As he observed something became apparent to Ned, Robb was good and certainly had some talent for the art but Jon outfought him. His movements were cleaner, his strikes more precise and as things continued it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened.
The steady sound of blunted blades smacking into one another rang out through the yard for another minute before the dull thud of someone being thrown hard onto their back broke it. Jon stood over Robb with his blade at the auburn haired youth's neck. Ned noticed that Jon didn't smile, the boy rarely did after all; always bearing the burden of his bastard name. Instead, Jon just looked down with a slight glint of happiness in his dark eyes and offered his hand to the heir of Winterfell. Robb took it quickly and stood with a huff.
Robb's slightly deepening voice carried over the expanse of the yard as Ned quickly approached the boys, "Every time today you have bested me." The frustration was obvious in not only his voice but his demeanor as well.
Jon merely shrugged, "You gave me an opening on your left side, you need to keep it protected." He was merely trying to offer his own observations on the situation and help his brother.
Theon's arrogant voice cut through the air, "The bastard thinks he knows best with the sword now." Jon scowled at the older boy but didn't rise to the jibe.
Rodrik cut them off before anything else could be said, "Jon is right Greyjoy," He turned to Robb, "You need to be aware of your whole body when fighting otherwise your opponent will take advantage."
"Quite right Ser Rodrik," Ned spoke as he drew closer, ruffling Bran's hair as he passed him. Everyone turned to him with murmured 'my Lord's' and 'father's'. He gave them all a warm look before looking focusing on Jon, "You did well but when you saw your advantage you left yourself open to a counterattack. Should Robb have recovered before you finished the fight, you would have been the one on your back." Jon nodded curtly, clearly taking Ned's words to heart.
Ned turned from Jon to look at all three boys, "Each of you shall pack for a trip to the Wall two days from now." Their eyes widened in surprise and Jon's lit up with a small glint of joy. I doubt he will be quite so enthusiastic once he sees what it is really like. "We shall remain there for a month at most."
"Shall we be visiting this new city Uncle Benjen told us about?" Robb asked with a hint of excitement.
Ned shook his head slowly, "You won't, though I might. I would like to meet the man Benjen seems to hold in high esteem." Even Theon looked slightly displeased with the news though it was probably because the young man lamented the lost opportunity of putting his seed in some wildling woman.
Rodrik looked to the boys, "Enough practice in the yards for today boys, Maester Luwin will want to give you your lessons." Jon and Robb groaned while Theon rolled his eyes. Jon and Robb quickly removed the practice padding and placed the blunted blades on the stand while Theon hung up his bow. Ned turned and headed toward the Maester's turret where he could write a letter to the Lord Commander.
Walking through one of the Red Keep's many secret passages Varys, the Spider and most revered spymaster in the realm, mulled over some of the recent information his little birds provided him along with the letter received from the Night's Watch. The eunuch was an intelligent man. If he wasn't he would have died years ago after being thrown to the streets penniless after his manhood was cut off for the sake of blood magic. The event had given the man a deep seeded hatred for all things magical. And now there is an entire city being built around magic just like Old Valyria. But a different sort of magic from what I hear, unlike the fire and blood atop which the greatest civilization was built.
None of his informants lived within First Forge or Newport but he was able to gather quite a bit of information from those in Braavos about the Norfolk. Varys' most pressing concern regarding this Harry Potter was how he would affect the game. He has tens of thousands of fierce fighters at his command if Ser Alliser is to be believed, at least as many as the North and Dornish. Illyrio ought to know of this new turn of events as well if he doesn't already. No doubt their influence in Braavos is affecting his trade.
Varys pushed open a wall on his right and stepped out very near the small council chambers. Now to find out how the King will react to this new information.
He was the last of the council to enter, save the King, who needed to be dragged here yet again at Jon Arryn's insistence. Stannis had only recently arrived back in the capital. After his daughter's miraculous recovery from greyscale, he stayed at Dragonstone for nearly a year. Varys' little birds told him that the lord was having a much easier time finding other houses willing to discuss a betrothal after the event. The events surrounding Shireen Baratheon's recovery seemed mysterious to the Spider, as while skilled healers could stop the spread of the disease, the victim would usually show signs and his information indicated she was entirely healed.
The eunuch respected Stannis. He was certainly a just man, and did his duty at all times. But there is nothing half so terrifying in this world as a truly just man. The man sitting beside Stannis was a stark contrast. Littlefinger understands the game better than most and few could have risen so high so quickly.
At that moment the door burst open revealing the ever more corpulent form of Robert Baratheon. Behind him stood Ser Barristan in his white enameled armor with Robert's squire next to him holding a jug of wine. Robert took a heavy breath, "Right then, let's begin." He quickly found his way to the head of the table and sat.
Jon Arryn's calm, strong voice started things off as per usual, "We have news from beyond the Wall."
"Has that not been settled," Robert turned fierce blue eyes on Grandmaester Pyecelle, "Did you not say your order would handle this situation? Why am I hearing of this yet again?"
Pyecelle coughed to clear his throat before speaking in his gravelly voice, "I have received multiple letters from Archmaester Norren assuring me that Maester Gareth is making progress toward seeing the situation resolved." Though even Pycelle doubted the truth of that claim after the man had been in the Far North for so long.
"Your assurances ring hollow." Varys spoke plainly, "According to Ser Alliser Thorne, their number has recently doubled and they have built a second city. My own little birds tell me that their trips to Braavos become ever more frequent and the Sealord himself has had talks with their leader."
This caught Jon's attention, "Has he made any sort of agreement with the Iron Bank?" The Hand had good reason to be concerned considering the realms ever growing debts to both the Bank and Tywin Lannister.
"No," Varys answered with conviction, "his discussions took place with the Sealord alone. The Iron Bank had nothing to do with it." Jon breathed a slight sigh of relief. If the Iron Bank was supporting this new city and they had developed some sort of alliance, they could quickly pose a huge threat should the crown's debts be called in.
Robert ran a hand through his thick beard, "Any news on this matter from Ned?"
Jon shook his head once, "Just as before there has been no news, or even a passing comment, from the North regarding this new city. Ned seems content to merely let things progress as they have unless they take any form of aggressive action."
The Hand turned toward Varys, "Do we know the sort of goods they produce?"
"From what I know of their dealings in Braavos, they produce a large amount of grains, vegetables, fish and recently even fruits. They have created a form of alcoholic beverage called vodka which has become increasingly popular with the Braavosi and started to draw interest from others. As the name of their city indicates, they also appear to be quite the skilled weapons crafters, and possibly most importantly they have sold a considerable number of diamonds in the Free City."
"We could offer a hand of friendship," Jon began, "They are clearly well provisioned and the realm might benefit from an association with them."
"They should be part of the realm," Robert said suddenly, "why should we offer a hand of friendship to them when we might simply bring them into the fold by other means?"
"And what other means do you propose Robert?" Asked Stannis gruffly, "Surely you aren't proposing, again, that we should go to war with these people?"
"And why not?" Robert leant further forward.
"Wars cost money," Jon snapped irritably, "money which the crown doesn't have; we are already millions of dragons in debt as it is, we ought not make it worse with an unneeded war."
"Would not the reward outweigh the risk," Robert reasoned, "this city produces diamonds and likely has great stores gold as well if they have been trading as much as Varys claims. All of it is wealth that could be taxed if they were made a part of the realm."
"It is folly Robert," Stannis retorted vehemently, obviously ambivalent about the proposal; though none knew it was because of Stannis' personal encounter with the wizard. "You would be hard pressed to convince any of the noble families to follow you so far north. The Dornish remain outside the fold because of what transpired during your Rebellion and the Iron Islands remain under control only because their heir sits in Winterfell as a captive."
Robert waved his hand dismissively, "So they won't join me. That still leaves the Crownlands, Stormlands, Riverlands, Westerlands, Vale, North and Reach. Even should they only send half their men we would have more than twice their supposed strength." Robert chuckled happily, "Three months of marching and a war half as long as the Greyjoy Rebellion and we would have a new city providing both wealth and goods for the realm." Varys looked at the King skeptically. He very much doubted Robert's real purposes were anything more than a desire for battle and bloodshed, something the realm certainly didn't need. But the realm doesn't need some magical practitioner having influence either.
"That still doesn't explain how you intend to convince those lords who would actually follow you to go north," Renly interjected for the first time.
"They shall go because I am King and command them to do such," Robert responded belligerently, "I need no other reason."
"That is where you are wrong Robert." Jon's voice brought him up short, "Men followed you during your Rebellion because they believed in your cause. They followed you during the Greyjoy Rebellion because they were nothing more than raiders out for their own gain. But this… you wish to go to war against a people that have done nothing to harm the realm just because you want to bring them under your control." Just as Varys, Jon was clearly skeptical of his former ward's motivations.
Robert glared at Jon unhappily, "As you say Jon, but should there be even a hint of hostility from these Norfolk, I will call the banners!" The Lord Hand stared at the King a long moment before nodding stiffly. Varys doubted the King would actually need any sort of provocation to call the banners should things continue as they were.
Robert then turned his attention to Pyecelle, "I want a letter sent to Winterfell asking Lord Stark what he plans to do about the situation. I don't understand why Ned would do absolutely nothing." The Grandmaester nodded but stayed still, "Now!" Robert yelled. The maester beat a hasty retreat from the room as his old legs could manage.
Robert stood from his chair, the others around him following suit, "I shall let this matter rest for the time being," the tall man said imperiously, "but I am far from satisfied."
With that he left the room with his Kingsguard and squire at his heels, the room emptied shortly after until only Varys and Littlefinger remained. The bald man looked to the Master of Coin, "Tell me Lord Baelish, what is your opinion on this matter?"
The shrewd man shrugged a small smirk gracing his features, "It presents an opportunity, and it might save the realm from some of Robert's excesses should he go to war."
Varys frowned, "Trading the King's proclivity for wine and women for war will only hurt the realm."
Littlefinger turned to walk away but spared one last parting comment, "Possibly, but as I said it shall provide opportunity." Varys watched him go, knowing full well the man was likely the most dangerous person in the entire realm.
Oberyn scrutinized Harry with his blue eyes before suddenly bursting out laughing, "Truly Harry, I thought you had more respect for me than that. You cannot truly expect me to believe the Others have awoken somewhere in the Land of Always Winter for the first time in eight millennia." Harry's green eyes just continued to bore into the Prince of Dorne until he finally realized that this wasn't a joke and the smile upon his lips died. He's serious, deadly serious so far as I can tell.
Harry gestured to the former black brother at his side who was there because of his personal experience with the subject they were discussing, "Mance found himself stranded within the Land of Always Winter for a time and encountered one of the White Walkers himself Oberyn." He paused and leaned back slightly in his chair, "Of all people I would expect you to understand that the strangest of things can happen. You, who have seen more of the world in the past five years than most do in their entire lives, ought to realize that impossible things aren't always quite so impossible."
"Yes," Oberyn said slowly, "but this is far beyond anything I have encountered in my time traveling. Demons long thought dead do not often return to the world. It is comparable to the Doom receding and Old Valyria becoming the power of the east again, dragons and all."
"And yet it has happened," commented Mance, "and I doubt they are idle in the cold and dark places of the world."
Oberyn sat in quiet contemplation, "What do you expect of me in this? Dorne is thousands of miles away, our fighting men unaccustomed to such environments."
"And should the Others come to Dorne," Harry started, "what will you do then? When all the world has been buried in the ice and snow? Where will you turn when all your possible allies stand as an army of dead at your gates? If they are lucky your daughters will freeze to death and be burned before they can become the undead thrall."
"Surely you don't fear them?" Oberyn asked bewildered, "I have seen the things you are capable of and I can imagine no force that could counter it."
"Of course I fear them," Harry responded candidly, "I am only one man and can only be so many places at once. I have had only six years to prepare for a group of powerful necromancers capable of manipulating the very weather of the world around them." Harry gestured to his sword resting against the wall, "I have gone to great lengths to reproduce the metal that could harm them. And despite the fact I am impressed with my people and hope deeply they can weather any storm, I would be foolish not to seek out further assistance if it is available to me."
"But you are a man who believes in fair trade Harry." He leaned forward to look Harry square in the eye, "Can the Dornish expect the Norfolk to come to their aid when we fight our enemies." This is why the Prince of Dorne had come, to discern the nature of this new people, how they might affect things in the South, whether or not they could be of use. And instead I have come to enjoy their company and respect their leader. Where before I hoped to exploit a naïve people, now I honestly hope for strong ties between our people.
"I would remind you that according to history, the White Walkers are the enemies of all living things," Harry frowned slightly, "but I understand your meaning. You wish for an alliance." The Red Viper nodded his dark- haired head once. "I can promise only myself. The men and women of this place follow me but I cannot promise them to some southern conflict that has yet to happen."
Oberyn gave a small smile, "You alone is worth hundreds, my friend. Perhaps should you come to Dorne and attempt to heal my brother of his ailment, you alone would be enough to convince him to form an alliance." You are the King-Beyond-the-Wall, Harry Potter, in deed if not in name. Should you come south, thousands would follow in your wake for the love they bare you.
Harry smiled widely, "It would not be the first southern noble I healed of some illness," Oberyn raised a single black eyebrow in question.
"I'm sure even being away from the Seven Kingdoms you heard that Stannis Baratheon's daughter contracted greyscale?" Oberyn nodded, though not a fan of the Baratheon's thanks to Robert he had no ill will toward the young girl, "And you heard it was healed then?"
Oberyn's eyes widen in comprehension, "It was you then." Harry bowed his head in acknowledgement, "Yet neither Stannis nor any of his household told of your involvement in her amazing recovery. It seems quite strange, wouldn't you agree?"
Harry shrugged, "I would but stranger things have certainly happened." Oberyn understood quite clearly that the wizard in front of him had somehow ensured the Lord of Dragonstone wouldn't reveal his involvement. I wonder if he will do much the same to me?
"And do all who meet you suffer this strange occurrence?" Oberyn pressed congenially, though he truly didn't want anyone altering his thoughts or memories.
Harry shook his head, "I would think you already know the answer to that question quite well. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for our mutual friend." This caused Oberyn to breathe a mental sigh of relief. He must not have trusted Stannis to keep silent, or he simply didn't want someone so close to Robert providing the Usurper with information.
"I would think you want to write up something formal?" Oberyn returned them back to the original subject.
"Yes, should you decide to accept my offer, I will have Maester Gareth write something up."
"It shall not be solely my decision," Oberyn paused, "I shall be leaving here with Ellaria and Nymeria within the next week. From here I shall sail for Dorne and Sunspear to see my brother. The journey will take a month at the least. I would ask that you meet me there so that you might discuss this in more detail with Doran."
"Very well," Harry said almost immediately, "I shall provide you with one of my mirrors so that you might tell me when you are to arrive." He stood from the table at which they sat, "Now, I have other things I must attend to," Harry smiled wryly, "I am sure you can find some way to entertain yourself as usual Prince Oberyn." They shared a laugh as Harry exited his home where the meeting took place with Mance just behind him.
(POV SHIFT)
"He isn't what most Free Folk imagine when they think of southerners," Spoke up Rayder as they made their way through the streets of First Forge.
"No he's not. That is much of the reason he and his family have been welcomed here since their arrival." Harry chuckled, "The man is boisterous and slightly conceited but also intelligent and fierce. He earned our respect when he accepted our way of life without complaint. There are Free Folk who haven't been as understanding and people here who haven't abided my word as well."
Harry turned to look Mance full on, "Do you know where I can find the leader of the Thenns?" Over the two weeks since the Battle of First Forge, Harry scouted much of the Far North east of the Frostfangs through Tyll's eyes. He had found their widely spread villages but didn't know where he might find their leader.
"Styr the Magnar resides in their largest village. You plan to meet with him as I recommended?" Mance questioned carefully.
"I do, though I am considering sending an emissary to speak with him first so that we might meet at a place where I'm not at a disadvantage." Mance snorted at that, clearly not believing Harry could actually be at a disadvantage given his abilities. "Even I can be caught unawares Mance. You claim they are willing to speak with me, but caution is still a necessity." Mance's motivations went a long way to help earn Harry's trust, but there was still certain wariness between them; just as there was a certain wariness between the new and old Norfolk.
There had been some tension and even a brawl which quite fortunately only ended with a few broken bones since the unification. Harry addressed the issue quickly and that same night there were more fights than usual in the yards. Fisticuffs were the rule, more than a little of the tension was broken and any wounded pride was healed over drinks after the fights. Things were far from perfect as of yet but they were certainly getting better.
The new Norfolk if not yet fully at ease, had taken up jobs in the cities. Many were working as stone masons to help house their fellows. Many more were now working the farms and the mine, while just a few chose to work the forge. They now had more people to man their many ships. As promised by Mance, Ygritte had proven to be the single most skilled archer he had ever met and of the new arrivals many were archers. The simple fact was things were progressing the best that he could hope.
Mance's voice pulled him from his thoughts, "I would be willing to seek out the Magnar for you."
Harry brought his attention back to the matter at hand after a moment. The man is cunning beyond anyone else I have met among the Free folk, I don't know if it would be wise to send him alone to begin discussions. "You would go alone?"
"It wouldn't be the first time I approached them," Mance shrugged, "This time I won't be trying to convince them to come against a man they respect but to simply speak with him."
"Obviously you speak the Old Tongue then?" Mance nodded. Harry didn't respond for a good minute before giving his reply, "I don't want you going alone," Harry resisted the urge to wince at how that came out, "I know there are some among the other new arrivals who speak the Old Tongue but I believe Dalla would be well suited to the task." He knew Val's sister could speak the Old Tongue and was also one of the most pragmatic of the Norfolk. The only person I would trust more to have such discussions is Val but she would be reluctant to go.
Mance accepted the company easily, "When would you like us to depart?"
"Tomorrow," Harry replied, "so long as Dalla agrees to go. I will provide you with transportation to Thenn. But seeing as I don't know where exactly you will find the Magnar, I may leave you many miles from your destination."
"I shall be sure to pack necessary provisions then." With that Mance walked away from Harry. Hopefully we will soon have an agreement with the Thenns, which will leave only Varamyr to deal with.
Harry sought out Val and Dalla. They were in the greenhouses with ten others, picking strawberries; well, Dalla was picking strawberries while Val bounced Trystan and Emer on her knees nearby. He caught only the tail end of their conversation.
"I swear you spend more time in the fields and greenhouses than anyone else in all of First Forge… by far." Val half stated, half reprimanded.
"That is because everyone who works the fields looks to me for what to do and how to handle things." Dalla countered.
"Something I am truly appreciative of," Harry interjected, causing both women to look to him. Val gave him a wide smile as he stepped over to her and gave her a kiss. He then tickled each of his children earning happy giggle from each and murmured "da's" that made him smile. Their first words had been 'mum', or something close to it, which Val took great pleasure in rubbing in. They quickly followed by learning 'da'
At more than a year old both the twins had started talking, and walking; something that if left unattended could be trouble considering their magic. More than once they had been found in an entirely different part of the room than they had been left. Both Val and Harry were particularly happy about the charms on them in those instances.
"Have you been good for your mother today?" Harry asked the giggling pair.
Val and Dalla both laughed before Dalla answered his question, "They have been fantastic," he could sense a 'but' coming, "but they did levitate and hurl a strawberry at the back of Eryk's head at one point because he was making faces at them." Harry tried to keep a straight face but he just couldn't help the laugh that burst from his lips.
Val shook her head, "It was quite funny." She looked at Harry more seriously, "How did your conversation with Oberyn go?"
"Very well, I shall travel to Dorne to meet with Doran Martell once Oberyn returns there and tells him of the situation."
"But I doubt you came here simply to tell me how things went." She looked him in the eye, "What is it you need?"
Harry feigned injury, "Can I not simply seek out my beautiful wife and my adorable children?" he gave her a cheeky smile which earned him a light slap on the arm.
"You can and have many a time, but you are busy, very busy of late and I imagine you are here for a reason… so out with it." She all but demanded.
Harry sighed, "Pushy woman," That earned him yet another slap, this one slightly harder, "Alright, I am fact here to discuss something… with Dalla."
This drew the other blond woman's attention immediately, "What did you wish to discuss?"
"I have decided to send an emissary to the Magnar of Thenn and Mance volunteered," She looked at him quizzically, "I have no problem sending him but I would prefer he didn't go alone. I know you, I trust you, and you can speak the Old Tongue."
"You want me to accompany the former crow to meet with the Thenns?" She asked curtly. Much like Val, she was never the sort to beat around the bush.
"That is exactly what I am asking, yes." He made sure to emphasize this wasn't expected of her, "If you refuse, I shall simply need to find someone else suitable to the task."
Dalla turned away and picked about a dozen more strawberries before answering, "I shall go, but only because you are asking." Harry smiled happily at her.
"Brilliant, I don't know how far you will be from the Magnar when I create your portkey. Mance is already preparing provisions for the journey. You shall leave tomorrow."
Dalla nodded, "I will inform the others that I shall be away for a time. They should manage well enough without me for a few days." She stopped, "What do you wish us to tell the Magnar?"
"I wish to meet with him and discuss certain things."
"Here?"
"No, if I'm not willing to go to Thenn then I can't expect him to come here."
"Do you know where you wish to meet him then, or when?" Dalla pressed.
Harry didn't have an immediate answer but Val certainly did, "Meet at the Fist, it is neutral territory and as far west of here as it is south of Thenn. Allow Styr to decide the time as a gesture of good will."
"That seems as good a place as any," Dalla commented and Harry just smiled.
"I completely agree. I will of course give you a mirror to inform me of his answer or so you can contact us should you run into any trouble." She nodded. He moved to give her a brief hug, "Thank you, I do appreciate this." Harry disengaged and went to give Val another kiss before her voice stopped him.
"Ah, I meant to tell you. While you were with Oberyn, Marin came looking for you. She seemed so anxious. She even took a boat from Newport at dawn to come find you." Harry was working on the portal between the two cities. He had already built the archways but a hundred different runes to need to be carved into the surface to ensure they would be stable for travel. They needed to be perfect and the first set of arches was scrapped when there was the tiniest of mistakes.
"I will find her then." He was hoping she would have some news regarding the task he had left her. I have very few potions remaining and need to find substitute ingredients sooner rather than later.
He found her reading in the Hall. Marin was a lithe girl, with light brown hair and grey eyes. She was short, much shorter than most of the Free Folk women. She was one of the Norfolk most thankful for Harry's presence. She was not the sort who enjoyed hunting, or fighting. But thanks to him, she found a passion in books that never would have been possible before.
As he approached she looked up from the book up in her hand and immediately stood. She reached down to a stack of parchment on the table and held it in front of her, "Harry I went through the list you gave me." She thrust the parchment toward him, "I managed to put together my own list of possible herbs and other ingredients that meet the descriptions you provided. I was able to come up with something for nearly everything you described with only one or two exceptions." She kneaded her lip between her teeth, a nervous habit of hers, "There are also some herbs and animal parts that have other properties that you don't have listed, so that might cause you some issue."
Harry leafed through the papers and was genuinely astonished by the detail Marin had provided. He smiled widely at the girl, "This is fantastic." She looked relieved and blushed slightly at the compliment, "I need to ask you just one more favor," she nodded quickly, "please take this list to Yorik and tell him to acquire as many of the things on this list as he possibly can when next he goes to trade." She took it from him and with a quick goodbye, did as he asked.
As Harry exited the Hall after her a few minutes later, Torwynd approached him, "Harry, we have nearly depleted the store of obsidian."
Harry sighed. Just another thing that needs to be dealt with. He rubbed his temples as he responded, "Find Dagon, inform him of the situation, and tell him I want him to journey to Dragonstone as soon as possible. It appears it is time for our first honest bit of trading with the Seven Kingdoms." Torwynd made to leave but Harry stopped him, "Be sure to tell him he ought to take some of the vodka, I imagine they would be most interested in that." Torwynd nodded. Hopefully if Stannis isn't there he informed his castellan and wife of our possible arrival.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully as Harry did everything he could around the two cities. When finally he arrived back at his home after dark, Val was waiting for him with a meal already cooked. Venison, from a deer she hunted herself after leaving the twins with Gilly, cooked with a bit of thyme with roasted potatoes and vegetables. Harry barely even spoke as he dug into the meal before him. He hadn't taken the time to eat since morning and savored every bite. Val just shook her head with a small smile upon her face.
When he finished he smiled at her widely, "Delicious, thank you."
"Glad you enjoyed it green eyes. You are a far better cook than I am but I figured you might be a bit too tired to do it tonight." He leaned in to give her a kiss.
"It is very much appreciated," He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, "but I am afraid the day isn't quite over yet?"
Val furrowed her brow in confusion, "What else could you possibly have to do?"
"I have a late night journey I wish to take," When she just continued to look at him expectantly he relented, "I am going to visit Bloodraven again."
Val pulled her head back slightly in shock, "Why?"
"Much has happened since I visited the greenseer, I think it is time I did so again." Val nodded albeit reluctantly. He hugged her tightly, "I won't be long, no need to worry." He turned on the spot and found himself looking once more at the largest weirwood he had ever seen.
He walked quickly to the base of the tree and made his way into Bloodraven's cave. As he walked closer to the heart of the place he felt the eyes of the Children on him, and once or twice he caught a glimpse of them. He heard a sort of singing emanating from the walls, likely from the Children themselves. It is quite beautiful. Harry had to wonder about the Children, they had their own sort of magic yet they seemed to do nothing with it.
A short time later, Harry found Bloodraven just where he had left him what felt like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since last I was here. Brynden River's one red eye locked on Harry as he drew closer, his raspy voice cutting through the song still going on around them, "Traveler, I wondered when I might see you again."
"I've been quite busy." Harry responded softly.
"So I have seen," Bloodraven replied, "You handled the rat in a way I never suspected."
"Yet you warned me of him?" Harry questioned.
"I did because he would always come, but that doesn't mean I knew how you would handle his arrival or even if you would survive the encounter." He paused, "I expected it to end in bloodshed; whether it would be your life or his, I did not know."
"I met the wise rat as well," Harry said lightly.
"You did and the snakes came just as I expected… but nothing is clear anymore." Bloodraven admitted slowly.
"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.
"When I told you of the wise rat and the snakes, it was with the understanding you would avoid any harm." He scrutinized Harry, "But you and others have done things I never witnessed through the trees, taken turns I never could have expected."
"What has been done by others?" He pressed.
"Telling you would do nothing in this case, the simple fact is you are preparing for the real enemy to the very best of your ability… I should allow you to handle everything else in your own way, in your own time." Harry didn't understand the seer's reluctance when before he willingly provided his warnings.
"And your claim about the stag being the death of the wolf and all that followed, do you still foresee that event?" Harry asked with a hint of anger in his voice.
Bloodraven didn't speak for a long time his one good eye turning away from Harry, "You are like a rock crashing into a pond. The ripples you have caused might have long reaching affects but if you must know; the future I saw is still one of the many that might occur. Though… there is another road that might be taken; one where my warning would still apply but to a very different set of events" His red eye snapped back to Harry's green, "But as I said, the important thing is you are preparing for the Others."
Harry realized he wasn't going to get an answer any better than that, "And what do you foresee regarding the Others?"
"Blood and death, on both sides; when I turn my eye to the Cold Ones far away and what they might bring that much is always the same, but that is always the case when one looks to war." Harry didn't need to be told war would include blood and death. He'd lived through enough fighting in his life to know that simple truth.
"You will give me nothing more than that." He stated with a calm he only barely retained. Given his reluctance to this point Harry couldn't imagine the greenseer would explain further.
"You might succeed and you might die, but either way you will fight. What else do you need to know?" It seemed quite simple when presented in that manner.
Harry shook his head but didn't press any further on the issue, "I have a more practical question for you," Bloodraven waited for him to continue, "Why do the Children remain here?"
"This is their place, their magic protects from the cold and death." Bloodraven looked around where the song still reverberated from the walls, "But most of all they protect me, as they will protect the one who comes after me."
"The one who comes after you?" Harry asked curiously.
"There will be another who sits where I sit, sees what I see."
"Do you know who this person is?"
"I do, I watched his birth and I shall watch him grow. Someday, he will come to me here and that is all you need know. But you were asking about the Children?"
"Should they wish it, they may venture to First Forge. I would welcome the opportunity to speak with them in more depth and even work with them."
The small form of Leaf came into view near Bloodraven, "You are unique Traveler, you accept us and respect us… not all men would feel the same. It takes only one to see what few of us remain gone from this world. Even if we wish to see it safe from the Others, we would not risk venturing into the world of men even with your guarantee we would be safe." Her tone told Harry it would be foolish to argue with her, "But should you wish to speak with us, you know where to find us."
Harry nodded and before she could disappear back into the darkness he spoke, "That singing, what was it?"
Leaf turned to look at him, "That is the True Tongue, in which we sing the songs of the earth. No man can speak it," she noticed the flicker of challenge in his eye, "not even you Harry Potter."
Harry sighed, "It was beautiful," she smiled with her slightly sharpened teeth, "and I will likely take you up on your offer." Leaf nodded and walked away leaving the greenseer and the wizard alone.
"I will admit, I hoped for more from you but I suppose knowing too much about the future would only drive me barmy." Bloodraven didn't react to his colloquialism. "I shall take my leave Lord Brynden, until we meet again."
"So long traveler," was his simple farewell. Harry exited the tree and apperated home. Weary from the long day, he laid down beside an already asleep Val. A small niggling of disappointment still sat at the back of his mind. Better this way, prophecy has never gotten me anything but trouble in the past.
AN: For those who voted on the poll and don't know, the HP/ASoIaF won and has been started. You can find it on my profile if you're interested.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks for reading.