[FF/AO3 NOTE]: I reallyrecommend reading this one on SpaceBattles, Sufficient Velocity, or Questionable Questing. The increased formatting options really let me do some fun things with the textand makes it WAY more readable. Published under the name PrognosticHannya
I spy a single figure leaving the houses set aside for the Horpe delegation, carrying a burning torch, trying to be discrete.
Truthfully, they're actually quite subtle. It's a rather foggy night, and if I couldn't enhance my senses with the Force, the flickering torchlight would have been lost among the mist, even so close to me. Even unenhanced I can see in the darkness almost as well as the daylight, a gift from my mother's Lengii heritage, and so this figure posed no challenges
Well, I couldn't really sleep anyways. Adventure time!
Carefully, I jostle Erryn awake, and together we set off after the mysterious figure leaving camp.
"…Ser Yten?!"
"Aha, well, you see…"
I cock an eyebrow.
"…ah, well, suppose it's no use now."
He lowers his torch. "I was trying to… erm, explore the Kingspyre, since it's been abandoned for centuries."
I cock an eyebrow.
"I… was hopping to find some relics of my house."
Erryn raises an eyebrow. "Your house? You're related to the Hoares?"
He chuckles. "Well, yes. You didn't think the name was just a coincidence, did you?"
"I… honestly hadn't though about it, no offense meant."
He snorts. "None taken, it's only natural. You wouldn't see me prying into just where in Essos your mother comes from, after all."
Yten grimaces a minute after the subtle jab has left his mouth, obviously not intending to slight us.
Erryn rolls his eyes, giving my hand a squeeze. "Our grandfather was a traveling sellsword from Leng, for the record."
I always love how much more expressive he is away from crowds, among those he knows and trusts.
Well, trusts to one degree or another. Yten's never been anything but his jolly self to my brother, but that doesn't mean he hasn't said anything behind his back.
"Ah… yes. My apologies."
I snort. "No problem. It's not nearly the worst thing we've heard about Mother, and you didn't mean to slight her."
"If I may ask… where is Leng, exactly? I've never heard of such a land."
I give Erryn a brief nod, ceding the lead in the conversation.
"Well, it's east, far east. Perhaps further east than anything besides Asshai and Yi Ti."
Yten raises his eyebrows then. For the more unread lords and knights of Westeros (i.e. most of them), such places were so far away as to be a myth, no different than the hidden ocean halls of Elenei's father.
"It's where I get my eyes from, as well as my height" I say, "the maesters say the Lengii are the tallest people in the world, even their women are over six feet."
"I… I can't even imagine that."
He pauses for a minute, and then laughs. "Wait, Lady Ash… does that mean you're small compared to your mother's people?"
Erryn and Yten both chuckle as I scowl.
"Hah! Imagine that! 'Ashara the Dwarf', that's what they'd call you!"
He and my brother break into giggles again at that.
"It's not that funny."
"I assure you, sister, it absolutely is."
"So…" I say after a long silence, "speaking of family, you say yours is distantly related to Black Harren?"
"Indeed" says Ser Yten with a jolly laugh, "I know, I know, we don't exactly seem like the Ironborn type, but the founder of our house was actually one of Harren's bastard grandsons!"
"Harren Hoare had bastards?" Erryn asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of some unexplored secret history.
Yten grimaces. "Master Erryn, do you really think Harren Hoare would be a man to not exercise his right of the First Night?"
"…oh."
He gives a rueful chuckle. "Yes, he had quite a lot of them, I believe. There are most likely a good dozen knightly houses in the Riverlands that can trace their ancestry back to him one way or another."
Erryn hums. "Who was he then, this ancestor of yours?"
"Ah" Ser Yten says, an eager smile on his face, "you're asking me to tell you the noble history of my house then?"
I roll my eyes with a chuckle. Gods save me from self-important nobles.
"Well," he says, "to truly understand the story of House Voare, you can't start just with out founder! No, this goes all the way back to Harren himself."
Despite myself, I perk up. Erryn isn't the only Blackmoth who loves ancient, hidden lore.
"It all starts with our founder's grandmother, Elissa, the most beautiful washerwoman in Harrenhal."
I have to withhold a snort as his voice takes on a rhythm. Boy, I wonder if he's told this story before?
"She had long, golden hair and nut-brown eyes, so large it's said that a man could lose himself in them. She was a pure maiden, honest and true, and had so attracted the fancy of all the men in the village around Harrenhal. Buy you see, Harren was a cruel man, heart truly as black as they claim, and could not broke to see such a pure thing remain in his castle untainted."
"And so he took her" Ser Yten says, voice twisting into dramatic tone of dread, "and sired upon her a son, who she named Aegon. For three months after Elissa was taken, Harren himself met his end, and so she decided to honor the man who had given her vengeance against her rapist."
I raise an eyebrow. Interesting. I look over to find Erryn entranced with the tale, and have to suppress a chuckle.
"Young Aegon Rivers was a noble lad, eager to prove himself more than a bastard born of despoilment. He grey up broad and strong, his father's Ironborn blood giving him a broad stature, and soon was taken in by a local hedge knight as his squire."
"Like his namesake, Aegon was said to be a true prodigy with the blade, and was soon knighted, leaving Harrenhal Town once his dear mother had passed. He traveled for years, Aegon did, adventuring from the Wall to the Red Mountains, until one day he ended up in the service of Lord Leo Horpe."
"Lord Horpe was a pious and clever man, but not one suited to martial combat, and so hired Aegon and his men-at-arms. Aegon wasn't planning to stay long, for he was an adventurer at heart, but he soon found his heart captured by a maid named Ellyn, Lady Horpe's personal dressing-maid and the most beautiful woman in all the Horpelands."
I roll my eyes. Of course she was. Just once I want to see someone claim the mother of their house was named "Alys the Average" or some such, and not the Maiden herself given flesh.
"Aegon was smitten, and she was smitten in turn, and he'd soon married her. Soon after that he'd gotten her with child, who he decided to name 'Aenys' in honor of his namesake's own son. But horror!"
I give a fond chuckle as Erryn gasps. He really does love bard's tales far too much.
"For the eve before his son was to be born, noble Aegon was struck down, taking a bandit's blade meant for Lord Horpe himself!"
"Ellyn was devastated, but the Lord Horpe, ever the noble and just man, decided to reward his brave savior with ennoblement, giving a knightly title and lands to his yet-unborn son."
"And so, our house was founded, with young Aenys of a yet-unnamed house proving himself just as able and skilled a knight as his father, and was soon knighted by the son of Lord Leo. And so Aenys no-name became and became Ser Aenys Voare, choosing his house's name in memory of his father's noble heritage, however distasteful the specific ancestor it came by."
"And since that day House Voare has stood strong, passing the knightly title from Aenys to his son Aeroma, and from him to his son Stommick, to his son Ryverce, to his son Euron, and on and on throughout the generations, each generation proving even more noble and just than the last."
He finishes his tale with a little bow, and I have to chuckle as Erryn gives a little cheer. It seems that if 'knight' doesn't work out, Ser Yten could probably make good coin as a mummer.
I chuckle. Actually, knowing his father Ser Hongrey, that's just about as likely to happen as me settling down and becoming a baby-birthing lady-wife.
A good man, Hongrey Voare, known as "Honorgrey" for his loyalty, but a bit to intent on the more martial aspects of his knighthood. I swear, if Lady Teystin wasn't such an able administrator, his whole fief would have likely fallen into disrepair while he charged at bandits.
We reach one of the innumerable entrances to Harrenhal shortly after that, and Erryn gives me a hug as Yten and I set off, staying to keep watch.
I gape as I come upon it, for the first time truly understanding its size. Harrenhal is less a "castle" and more a twisted mountain made of dark stone, warped and melted like wax held up to the sun by some uncaring god.
Actually, for all Harren could defeat him, Aegon might as well have been a god.
Does that make Harren a devil?
Appropriate, I suppose.
Month 2, 194 AC
HH obsessed w/ bloodshed, repeatedly mocks rivals 4 conern w/ "women and children". Possible hyp.-focus on 7tons, sgnf-cant w/r/t DG faith?
Blood mag. connection, rep. mentions "sacrif. to DG" as 4m of mag.
Wr-Wood conn.? Unlikely, OG are not only gods w/ sacr. blood mag.
Will Xplore further blood mag. DG connection, poss. OG infl w/r/t use of sacr. in rituals.
SN: title idea 4 event. book, "Notes on the Journ. of HH"?
Normally, the prospect of entering a high lord's keep unnoticed would be a daunting one, especially one as famously impregnable as Harrenhal.
However, Harrenhal's size actually works against it in this case, and it's proven virtually impossible to fully patrol the city-sized lump of rock.
Month 5, 194 AC
HH loathedthe Seastone Throne (SeaTh), near-obsessive. Blamed it for early death of fath. HalH and g-fath. HarH.
Loathing of SeaTh is given as primary reason for construction of HHal. Excessive size stated to be for the purposes of quieting dissent among traditionalist DG worshippers. Imo he is rationalizing for own ego: possible penis size insecurity? Large Mountain = Large Genitals.
HH noted that SeaTh was made of oilyblack stone! (emph. mine) Will follow up later.
The strange feeling persists throughout the keep, only growing stronger as we dive deeper. The walls seem to take on some sort of slippery, bloody sheen, one that repels all dust based on the multi-century buildup I see on everything else within the rooms we explore.
Month 5, 194 AC
OBS definitely has Yeen connection, Asshai connection. Possibly "inverse" of HT base's dry black stone. OBS corrupt form of DBS? I'll need to follow up on this…
SN: shorthand irrit. to read, will lessen use of abbrv. Wasted time reading saved time writing, don't waste dragons to save coppers, Dani.
Month 7, 194 AC
HH claims HarH was a sorcerer, capable of great feats of blood magic via sacrifice to the drowned god. This is unattested anywhere else in the historical record, but would make sense based on the historical importance of HarH. Possible conn. btwn historical importance and "nexus" status?
Month 7, 194 AC
HH also claimed that his g-fath. taught him blood mag., but this claim is much more susp. Doesn't seem to understand the diffs in various lines of blood w/r/t their sacrif. power. Had much contempt fr "Essosi charlitans" who claim that "King's Blood" has some special prop.
Perhaps bc during his rulership, there was no one within the signif. enough to present a noticeable diff. in effect w/r/t sacrif. mag.
Interesting! Implies a heretofore unattested contact btwn HH and var. sorcerers from Essos, most likely RPs or other mages in the R'hllorist tradition, given the use of the term 'King's Blood'. Should follow up.
Poss. R'h-ist blood magic used in const. of powerfulartifact Iron Crown, but unlikely. IC blood magic feels unintentional, same as HHal. But must investigate all poss. avenues.
For such a large structure, the insides are surprisingly compact. Harrenhal may be the size of a mountain, the halls of Harrenhal, from which the castle takes its name, are a maze of thin, twisting catacombs, seemingly designed to swallow up any unwelcome intruders.
It's as if a giant's heart was cast down into stone, and some enterprising builder carved rooms into its veins. I think I could walk here for years without twice passing the same door.
Month 2, 195 AC
Now having obsvd. mag. phenom. SE and TW, + my own HT, I can say with confidence that the mag. presence of Harrenhal resembles a natural disaster much more than any planned spellwork.
Yten shudders as he swipes a bit of dust off the walls.
"The stones are mortared with the blood of countless innocents. Men, women, children… they are why this grand place has stood the test of time."
I can feel them, the screaming ghosts of thousands, tens of thousands, tortured to death above these bricks. Their blood seeping into mortar.
Month 5, 195 AC
TOME FOUND!
Book of DG tradition prophetic blood mag., completely unique & unattest.!
Will explore greatly at length, further notes later!
Fantastic 15th birthday gift!
Suddenly, as if responding to my thoughts, I feel a chill wind sweep through the air-locked corridor.
"Fuck" Yten says as his torch sputters out, throwing the hallway into darkness.
"Here" I say absentmindedly, crouching down and re-lighting the wick with a snap of my fingers.
Month 9, 195 AC
DG blood mag. is more… intensethan I was expecting. Even sacr. of fine warhorse offered only minimal visions.
Perhaps larger sacr. needed? Will test w/ multiple horses.
We both freeze.
"Is that-…"
I tense.
Slowly, he turns away, purposefully gazing down the hall and away from where I've performed the minor cantrip.
Month 10, 195 AC
Nothing works! Even mult. expensive sacrifs. have proven useless. I must stop testing, father is getting suspicious as to my expenditures.
Unfortunately, DG seership seems like a dead end w/o larger sacrifices
Perhaps if I us
"Let's… let's keep going" he says, holding the now re-lit torch in front of him with more than a little wonder. "That was… that was a very strange trick of the light, to make it seem as if my torch had gone out."
I just nod, tension slowly bleeding from my muscles. "Yes, quite strange indeed. Let's not talk about it anymore."
Month 3, 196 AC
Dorne issue has exploded to war! DB has decl. himself king. New dance imminent?
REMEMBER HOW LAST DANCE ENDED FOR HHAL!
I mustdiscover nature of DG seership, there is no choice. I will nothave my House become the Strongs.
I have seen us replaced in what meager visions I have, nine times over, mocked and belittled as madmen and fools, all dead.
I may only be seven and ten, but I will notlet that happen. I will steer my house through these turbulent currents of fortune, no matter whatit takes.
Men are already dying left and right, after all… why is this any different than sending out levies to be ground to pulp? I'm saving lives, if anything.
"Agreed. So…"
"Hiding places?"
He jumps on the change of topic like a starving dog on meat, and despite myself, I have to suppress a smirk. Good old Yten.
Month 7, 196 ACSuccess! After months of effort, I've done it! Unfort. it took the sacrifice of three men, but they were criminals taken from jail cells, to assuage my already strained conscience.
I have seen the movements of the enemy, the loyalist forces, and have fed the information to my father. He's used it to great effect, winning numerous victories for DB in the Riverlands.
"So" he says, "How likely is, do you think, that any of the Lords here have explored all of Harrenhal?"
I chuckle. "I don't think you, you'd need a damn army to do it, this place is basically a mountain made by men. Maybe Danielle Lothston of Larys Strong would have the desire to, but I can't see either of them being the sharing type."
"I agree" he says with a nod, "which is why my family will owe you a great debt, Ashara. Not in two-hundred years has anyone found relics of our inglorious ancestor, but after a single night… you're somehow taking us directly to one."
I shrug. "Ask me no questions, my friend, and I'll tell you no lies. Perhaps I'm just absurdly lucky."
He laughs at that.
Month 10, 196 AC
Saw vis. of great batt. dstr.-ing house, successfully averted. Convinced fath. to side w/ loyalist forces, betray DB at RgF.
DB dead, heirs dead, BS & other heirs loc. unkn.
A few minutes later we've made some progress, my night vision serving me well in navigating the cramped, dark halls.
Hells, if I didn't know better, I'd say the "curse" of Harrenhal was just too many Lords tripping and breaking their heads open after trying to use the privy at night.
Month 1, 222 AC
I am now old, and I have laughed at my old foolishness. How eager, how rushed and hurried, how stupid. I have gazed into the depths, and they have gazed back. Magic always has a price, it truly is the sword without a hilt.
The Force has grown almost stifling now, pressing down on me like some great weight. If I focus, I can almost hear a thousand voices whispering, shouting, screaming so faintly they can barely be understood.
I wonder, was Danielle Lothston even mad? Or did one day she simply listen too long to the whispers of a a thousand maddened ghosts?
I wonder, was this the doom of the whisperer, the wife of Clarence Crabb? Was it that in prying knowledge from the lips of foes her husband felled, she gained more knowledge than she asked?
Ser Yten is blind to such things, of course, but even he can feel the malice that clings to the air, and he shivers as our torch sputters and flickers.
Whispers, insidious, telling me of how to gain the greatest power, forbidden treasure… but no, I must be strong.
I take it from his hand, feeding magic into it to strengthen its light: I would not chance ghosts to not seize upon us in the darkness.
I can tell we're getting closer to something important when the air cools further, a chill snap coming despite it being a warm night.
I know that that is the path of madness, the path of haunting, the path that led to doom of Valyria, to the darkness of the Dawn.
Yten comes to a stop next to a small alcove. "Is this…"
"It is" I say, nodding.
I reach out a hand, but he stops me, seemingly entranced. "No… I am Harren's blood… it must be me."
I have seen these things, these portents in the stars, what truly is the price of arrogance, of knowledge too great for me to know. They say in Yi Ti it was their king who brought the Night… and I am but a lady.
Sometimes I can see it, the echoes of that ancient tragedy, staining my portents.
I stand back, watching as he pulls out a brick in the corridor, seemingly inconspicuous except for how it shines in the Force.
I am a fool though, for I could not swear off this forbidden gold entire. I have peered into the wilds but once… and seen the turning of the world.
As it drops to the floor, revealing a hidden nook, I gasp.
The nexuses the kingdoms turn around, the breakers of that great commanding wheel of time. Harwyn Hoare, Mighty Aegon, Young Ben Justman, and even I believe the young Black Dragon: these men have twirled the thread of fate around their fingers .
Inside is a journal of parchment, looking at least a century old… and a rusted iron crown, forged in the style of the circling chains of House Hoare.
I⠀have⠀seen⠀it.
I⠀have⠀seen⠀it
I⠀have⠀seen⠀it
I⠀⠀ave⠀seen⠀it
I⠀⠀ave⠀s⠀en⠀it
I⠀⠀⠀ave⠀s⠀en⠀t
I⠀⠀⠀⠀ve⠀⠀s⠀en⠀⠀t
I⠀⠀⠀⠀v⠀⠀⠀s⠀en⠀⠀t
I⠀⠀⠀⠀v⠀⠀⠀s⠀n⠀⠀t
I⠀⠀⠀⠀v⠀⠀⠀s⠀n⠀⠀
I⠀⠀⠀⠀v⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀n⠀⠀
I⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀n⠀⠀
I
Yten gasps.
And so I glimpsed into the deep:
These things have been, and will so ever be
Thrice they've come,
and thrice once more,
They'll come when dust is all that's left of me
The lowest will become most high
A bloody sword a knight will seek.
By ash a house of golden light will die,
and in the pyre dragons wail and shriek.
AN: And behold! The very first native magic of the story, Danielle Lothston's prophecy! Make sure to really look it over, because it is absolutely coming up again.
The prophecy applies to six different period of times, past, present, and future.
1. The Great Empire of the Dawn and the Long Night
2. The Dance of the Dragons
3. The Blackfyre Rebellions
4. The Reign of Aegon V, Jaehaerys II, and Aerys II
5. Past, present, and future events in the life of Ashara Blackmoth, some spoilers.
6. Lives of Ash's children, spoilers abound!
Since it's not technically canon, I'll give you this hint for free. One of the most common woods for use in medieval arrows is ash-wood.
Yes, this entire chapter and house backstory happened just because way back when I was doing the earliest worldbuilding I offhandedly used "Voare" as one of my House names as a joke. A month later, and I've built up an entire backstory around it, turned Ser Yten into much more than a one-off character, and spent hours trying to make a prophecy that not only applies to six different time periods but also rhymes in poetic meter.
Btw, it's canon that the Lengii are incredibly tall, thin, dark-skinned, and golden-eyed, and can see in the dark almost as well as the daylight. I'm not giving her OP night-vision powers out of nowhere. I originally had Ash as Sarnori with golden eyes, but someone pointed out that my description of Sarnori people was already canonically the Lengii.
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